#min yoongi fanfic
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Love & Lullabies | Part 4
â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongiâs lifeâafternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. Youâre just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didnât want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life youâve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isnât the only one whoâs clumsy.)
â ËËË Alternatively: Itâs 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weightâan 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god youâre there to help him.)
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoonâs bestie
â ËËË Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) Thatâs it.
â ËËË Chapter warnings: slow ass burn because the series will be extended indefinitelyyyy yall wanted this đ
, so much kissing, sexting, star wars reference, THIS YOONGI, cliffhanger hehe
â ËËË Word count: 6.7k
â ËËË Posting date: December 14, 2024
â ËËË A/N: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ đ
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Â Masterlist
You glance at the clock again and chew your bottom lip, heart ricocheting against your ribcage. When you sent Yoongi the text, you knew it was overdue. You were finally in a good placeâand he was part of what was good.
Youâve known Yoongi for years, but itâs only in the past few months that youâve really gotten to know him. At this point, youâve spent hours with him in every context imaginable, from tantruming Haneul to Miss Rachel dance sessions, from boring afternoons to big milestones. But this feels⌠different.
Heâs coming to your place. You havenât seen him in weeks, not since you kissed in the rain, and he showed up in the hallway, not since everything fell apart and started to piece itself back together again.
Youâd started in your pajamasâjust a soft cotton set with peaches on themâbut after one glance in the mirror, you decided against it. Too casual. Now youâre in a cream-colored cardigan with a camisole underneath and matching joggers. You dabbed on a little lip tint, brushed out your hair, spritzed on a tiny bit of perfume. Now, you honestly look like you tried and while you donât want to be too obvious, you remember he has been the one trying for months. It wouldnât hurt if you showed him a little effort. And at least now you know you look cute.
The doorbell startles you, and you jolt forward causing a dull pain in your neck, which has been bothering you for days. You roll your shoulders back, in hopes to shake some of the tension away. You wipe your palms on your joggers and rush to the door, catching a quick glance at your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look⌠fine. You hope.
When you pull the door open, there he is.
Yoongi.
Yoongi stands in your doorway, wearing a gray hoodie, jeans that sit just right on his hips, and New Balance slidesâslidesâdespite the winter chill. His hair, slightly longer now, still looks as soft as when you ran your fingers throuâ
âHey,â he says, stalling your thoughts. His dark eyes meet yours, something in his expression making you a bit self-conscious. But boy did you miss him.
âHi,â you manage, your voice smaller than you intended. You clear your throat and gesture at his feet. âSlides? In this weather?â
Yoongi glances down, his lips curving into a faint smirk. âI was in a rush.â
âCome in,â you say, motioning for him to enter. âWhen I texted you, I didnât say it had to be tonight.â
âIt had to be,â he says quietly. âFor me.â
Your cheeks flush, and you quickly change the subject. âDo you want something to drink? Water? Tea? Iced americano?â
He smiles, seemingly glad that you recall his favorite. âIced americano sounds good,�� he says, settling onto the couch.
You head to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice and coffee. When you return, you hand it to him, watching as he fumbles with the straw a bit. You forgot just how cute he is.
You sip your drink, glancing at him over the rim before deciding to fill the quiet. âSo⌠first day at the daycare,â you start casually. âIt went well.â
Yoongi leans back, his shoulders loosening just a little. âYeah? Tell me about it.â
âIt was⌠honestly, it was so great,â you say, the words tumbling out as you set your drink on the table. âThe kids are adorable, and the space is beautiful. Everythingâs so well set up.â You pause, the memory of the morning making your chest feel warm. âI forgot how much I missed doing that, you know? Like, preparing activities, seeing their little faces light up when they learn something new⌠it justâit feels good.â
Yoongiâs lips tug into the faintest smile, his gaze steady on you. âYou look happy talking about it.â
You nod, almost to yourself. âI am. I feel⌠lucky, I guess. That I get to do this again.â
His eyes soften in that way that makes your stomach flutter. âIâm proud of you,â he says simply, his tone steady and sincere.
The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is blink at him. âReally?â
âOf course,â he says simply, leaning back against the couch. âItâs not easy starting over. But you did it.â
âThanks, Yoongi. I really appreciate that.â You pause, then add, âIâm proud of me too.â
He smiles at that, the kind thatâs so subtle youâd miss it if you werenât looking.
You grin back, the memory of the morning still fresh. âWell, we also had a capybara mascot.â
Yoongi coughs. âOh? A mascot? Thatâs⌠interesting.â
âYeah,â you nod, narrowing your eyes at him. âIt seemed really into me. Kept shaking its ass in front of the kids, though, which⌠you know, questionable.â
âShaking its ass?â Yoongi repeats, lips twitching.
âWeird, right?â you protest, though you canât help but grin. âThe thing was strangely enthusiastic.â
Yoongi shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. âSounds like a fun mascot.âÂ
But then, heâs not done, like heâs empathizing with the man in the suit. âAnd of course he would be enthusiastic, itâs your opening day. I mean they probably briefed him to be supportive of you and whatnot. And to be that energetic despite the tormenting heat of that costume, heâs seriously doing the lordâs workâŚâ
Huh.
You blink at him, before you decide to test the theory out.
âHaneul kept calling it Appa,â you say with a straight face. âI told him thereâs no way his appa is in a capybara suit.â
Yoongi chokes on his drink, coughing again.
âAre you okay?â you ask, patting his back.
âFine,â he croaks, his voice raspier than usual. âJust⌠went down wrong.â
You eye him suspiciously but let it slide, suppressing a smile thatâs threatening to slant your lips.Â
Heâs definitely the man in the suit. Youâll get him to admit it one day.
But for now, you brace yourself for the talk you wanted to have.
You set your phone down carefully, the action feeling weighted, like itâs tethered to the words youâre about to say. Your fingers twist nervously in the hem of your cardigan, and you glance at Yoongi, hesitating for a moment before speaking. âYoongi⌠umm, I wanted to say Iâm sorry.â
He looks up at you sharply, his brows furrowed in confusion. âFor what?â
âFor shutting you out,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallow hard, the vulnerability in your chest blooming uncomfortably. âI was in such a bad place mentally. I hated myself, I was dealing with so much unresolved shit that I hadnât even begun to work through.â
Yoongi doesnât respond right away. Quiet eyes, just watching you, letting you process your emotions. So you continue.
âJust as you depended on me to care for Han, I started depending on you too. I wasnât happy with my life, but when I was in your place, I felt detached from my misery. Felt wanted and needed which made me feel good. But then⌠when Sung Kyung showed up, it was like everything I was already struggling with just got amplified. I thought I was protecting myself, but instead, I just⌠pushed you away.â
He leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and the way he looks at youâtender and unguardedâmakes your heart ache. His eyes are dark and steady, the kind that seem to see straight through you, but not in a way that feels invasive or harsh.Â
âI felt very insecure and abandoned from so many things in my past. I have been working on it though, and I feel like Iâm in a better place now.â
The faintest trace of a smile ghosts across his lips as he finally speaks. âI get it,â he says, his voice low and steady. âIâm glad youâre better. Iâve been there too. Feeling like you have to be strong for others when inside youâre struggling.â He gnaws at his lip. âIf Iâm gonna be real, I thought you pushed me away because you wanted out. Honestly, if I were you, Iâd dip too.â
âOh YoongiâŚâ you start, but he shakes his head, so you let him carry on.
âItâs okay, I know my life is⌠complicated. Everything that happened in the last two months, hell, in the last year, threw me off, too. Like I just lost control of my life. Shit kept piling on and I didnât know how to deal. But at the end of the day, all I wanted was to do right by Haneul, to make sure he was loved and safe. That was my focus.â
âYouâre an amazing dad,â you say with sincerity. âAnd youâve been an amazing friend to me, too. Even when I didnât deserve it. You didnât give up on me.â
His eyes soften further, and he shakes his head, brushing your gratitude away like itâs unnecessary. âYou donât have to thank me for that,â he says, his voice almost gentle.
âAt first, I didnât think youâd want to talk to me,â you admit quietly, glancing down at your hands. âI thought maybe you moved on. Or⌠that youâd rather I wasnât in your life anymore.â
Yoongi leans back slightly, his posture relaxing as he tilts his head to study you. âPeep the countless messages on Kakao thatâs left hangingâŚâ
âI know, and Iâm sorry for that. I read every single one. And there were many times that I thought about replying, but I needed to sort myself out. Iâm a mess and I didnât want to drag you down, or add into whateverâs on your plate. You did say your life is complicated.â
âYeah, but I was just worried about you, becauseâŚâ his eyes drop to his drink, pauses, then he shakes his head with a chuckle. His gaze meets yours again, his expression firm. âJust promise me something.â
You blink, your hands stilling in your lap. âWhat?â
âPromise me you wonât do that again,â he says, his voice carrying just the faintest edge of vulnerability. âDonât shut me out, no matter whatâs going on.â
You nod before you can even think. âI promise.â
His lips curve into a faint smile, and the sight of it tugs at something deep inside you. Itâs such a small thingâa slight upturn of his mouth, the crinkle at the corners of his eyesâbut it feels monumental. Like the bridge youâve both been too scared to cross is finally, tentatively, being rebuilt.
For a moment, neither of you moves. You think about the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, the way his voice wraps around your name like itâs something precious. And so you think, maybe, just maybe, this could still be something.
Yoongiâs voice cuts through your thoughts. âHeyâwhat happened to your shoulder?â he asks suddenly, breaking the moment.
You blink, caught off guard by the shift. âWhat?â
âYour shoulder,â he repeats, nodding toward it. âYouâve been rolling it a little since I got here. Is it bothering you?â
âOh, I didnât realize,â you say, feeling a little self-conscious. âItâs nothing, really. Just a strain from running, I think. Iâve been pushing myself a bit harder lately, trying to, you know, get my life together and shit.â
Yoongi frowns, his brows knitting together. âRunningâs good, but you canât overdo it. A shoulder strainâs no joke. If you donât take care of it, itâll just get worse.â
You smile faintly, appreciating the concern in his voice. âOkay, Dr. Min,â you tease lightly. âAny recommendations?â
He huffs a quiet laugh but doesnât let it go. âI mean it. You have to be careful. My shoulder was busted for years, you know. I have a few tricks,â He pauses, glancing at your cardigan. âCan IâŚ? I can take a look if you want. Only if youâre okay with it.â
You gulp. Loud. The neighbors probably heard it. And for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. His expression is earnest, his hand already halfway lifted in a gesture of permission.
âUh, sure,â you say, your voice quieter than intended. âThatâd be⌠yeah, okay.â You shift in your seat, angling your shoulder for better access.
He waits for your nod before gently tugging at the edge of your cardigan. âMay I?â
Your pulse quickens as you shrug it off your shoulder, leaving the strap of your camisole exposed. The cool air brushes your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of Yoongiâs hands as they settle lightly on your shoulder.
His fingers press gently at first, testing the tension in your muscles before applying more pressure. You inhale sharply as he works through a particularly tight knot, your body instinctively leaning into his touch.
âHere,â he murmurs, his tone soft but focused. âThis is where itâs worst, right?â
You nod, unable to form coherent words as his hands move with ease, kneading the aches away. Each press of his fingers sends a mixture of relief and something else coursing through you, straight down towards your core.
âYouâre really⌠good at this,â you manage to say, your voice a little breathless. Brain starting to turn into mush.
He chuckles lightly, the sound vibrating against your back. âYears of experience. Needed surgery to get my shoulder sorted out. Thatâs why Iâm serious about this stuff. You need to be careful with it.â
His words linger in the air, and you find yourself focusing not just on the pleasure of his touch but on the deep timbre of his voice, and the way heâs always looking out for you even in the smallest ways.
âThank you,â you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze. His hands still for a moment.
âOf course,â he says softly, licking his lips as you find his eyes going to yours.
Oh my god. You want to kiss him. Shit, you really do. You wonder if you should turn fully to face him.Â
But then his hands slip away, leaving your skin feeling colder.
You adjust your cardigan, clearing your throat as you sit back, your mind spinning. The intimacy of the momentâof his hands on you, the quiet concern in his voiceâhas left your heart like itâs going into cardiac arrest. If he fancies himself as Dr. Min he better fix this.
âOkay?â he asks.
âYeah,â you say, smiling faintly. âBetter. Thanks, Yoongi.â
âAnytime,â he replies, with a small, almost shy smile.
He leans forward slightly, eyes searching yours, and you find yourself doing the same, your heart pounding in your chest.
For a second, you think he might kiss youâor maybe youâre the one who wants to close the distance.Â
But then he stands.
âItâs pretty late, I should go,â he says softly, though his voice carries a hint of reluctance.
âYeah,â you say, standing with him. Your legs feel unsteady as you walk him to the door.
As he steps out, you hesitate for a moment. âThanks for coming over, at short notice.â
âNah, I wanted to,â he says, pink dusting his cheeks before he admits. âIs it weird if I say Iâve been waiting for it?â
Before you chicken out, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. âThank you for waiting, Yoongi.â
He blinks, startled, then heâs rubbing his wrinkled nose with his index finger. âGoodnight.â
âDrive safeâŚâ
You close the door and lean your back against it, pressing your hands to your cheeks as if thatâll somehow contain the giddy energy bubbling up inside you. Itâs stupid, really, how much a simple night with Yoongiâhis laugh, his voice, that damn massageâhas you grinning like an idiot.
But you canât help it.
For the first time in a long time, you feel like your heart is beating again, a rhythm that feels almost foreign after the weeks of emptiness youâd carried around.
So, itâs been a week since Yoongi came over.Â
Each morning at the daycare, Haneulâs nanny walks through the door with her usual warm smile, holding Haneulâs tiny hand as he toddles in. Itâs what youâve grown used to, so youâre not expecting anything different. But sometimes, when the door swings open, you hope that maybe this time, itâll be Yoongi instead.
It never is.
You shake off the feeling quickly each time. Heâs busy, of course. He has his music, his idol schedules. It makes sense that heâd leave the daycare routine to someone else.
But still.
The thought lingers, one you donât want to examine too closely. Instead, you focus on the small joys: Haneulâs excited âSarang!â when he sees you, his delighted giggles during circle time, the way he clutches Bora 2.0 during nap time.
And at night, when youâre settling into bed, your phone buzzes. Thatâs when Yoongi comes to youânot in person, but through his name on your screen.
Yoongi: Howâs your shoulder? Dr. Min is still monitoring your progress. You: Much better, thanks. Might even survive the crossfit sesh Joonâs dragging me into. Yoongi: I just texted Namjoon. Youâre off the hook. You: What? Yoongi: Canât do crossfit with a bad shoulder. Doctorâs orders. You: Fine You: You know youâre not a real doctor right? Yoongi: đ
Then another night:
Yoongi: Haneul wouldnât stop saying sarang this, sarang that today. Like a little broken record. You: 𼺠My heart canât handle this. Yoongi: I know.
And then the casual starts to shift:
Yoongi: Did I tell you Haneul fell asleep on my lap during my zoom meeting today? I couldnt move for like an hour and my arm died. You: No, but that sounds adorable. He probably misses u. Yoongi: Yeah. Shld probably cherish this while heâs still not embarrassed by me You: Definitely cherish but why would he be embarrassed by you? Youâre such a good dad. Yoongi: Iâm trying. But honestly? Sometimes itâs hard. I think about how much Iâm giving him and I wonder if itâs enough
You pause at that text, staring at the screen for a long time.
Yoongi doesnât open up often. When he does, it feels like heâs peeling back a layer, letting you see something raw, something vulnerable.
You: I think every parent feels like that sometimes. But from what I see, Han is such a happy kid. Youâre raising him well and heâs so lucky to have you. Yoongi: I needed that. Thank you.
And then, late one night, the tone shifts entirely.
Yoongi: What are you doing right now? You: Bed. About to sleep. U? Yoongi: Same. Thinking about that night. You: Which night? Yoongi: When I came over. And you almost kissed me. đ
Oh, shit. Is he drunk?! You sit up, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Mind thinking nonsense, like if this is about to be a booty call, what panties are you changing into?
You: đBe for real. You were definitely leaning in more. Yoongi: Maybe. Yoongi: Would it have been so bad tho?
Your cheeks burn as you stare at the screen, unsure if your heart is racing because of his words or because of the way they make you feel. You start laughing in disbelief, and soon you're screaming into your pillow. What the hell?!
When you finally compose yourself, you decide you want to ask him if heâs being serious. But before you can even start to type, another message comes through.
Yoongi: Stop overthinking it, beautiful. Good night. đ
Itâs late afternoon, and the daycare is winding down. Kids are being picked up by the HYBE employee parents or the designated guardians. Thereâs only one kid left, and he just happens to be your favorite.
âSarang!â Haneulâs little voice calls, his gummy smile wide as he wraps his tiny arms around your legs.
âHi, baby!â you say warmly, scooping him up into your arms. His chubby cheeks press against yours as he nuzzles into your neck, and your heart melts a little. âWonder where Nanny Mel isâŚâ
Before you can fully bask in the moment, you hear another familiar voice.
âReady to go, Haneul?â
Yoongi steps into the daycare, looking effortlessly casual (and annoyingly sexy) in his usual hoodie and slides. His hair is swept back today, and you have to mentally shake yourself out of staring, not just of how he looked, but because this is the first time he has ever picked up Haneul from your daycare.
The tiny tot, however, has other plans.
âNo!â he says firmly, clutching onto you tighter.
Yoongi arches a brow, amused. âNo? Itâs time to go home, buddy.â
Haneul shakes his head, burying his face in your shoulder. âPlay more!â
You stifle a laugh, patting Haneulâs back gently. âHeâs been having a good day,â you explain, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at Yoongiâs soft expression as he watches the two of you.
âWell, I can see that,â Yoongi says, his lips twitching in a small smile. He steps closer, holding out his hands. âCome on, Han. Letâs not bother Teacher Y/N anymore, okay?â
But Haneul just whines and clings to you like a little koala, refusing to budge.
Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his soft hair. And you would probably have swooned if you didnât have other pressing matters. âAish, this kidâŚâ Yoongi sighs.
You shift Haneul in your arms, trying to coax him down. âSarang, your appaâs here to take you home. Youâll see me tomorrow, okay?â
But Haneul just shakes his head again, this time tightening his little fists around your sweater. âNoooo!â
Yoongi crosses his arms. âYou know, I thought Iâd gained a bit more brownie points in the past months, but clearly, youâre still his favorite person.â
âAw, donât say that,â you tease, bouncing Haneul gently in your arms. âHe loves you.â
âYeah, but he adores you,â Yoongi counters, his eyes crinkling in a soft smile that makes your heart do a little somersault.
Finally, after a few more minutes of coaxing and promises that youâll play together tomorrow, Haneul reluctantly lets go, sliding into Yoongiâs waiting arms.
As Yoongi adjusts Haneul on his hip, he glances at you, his expression softer than usual. âThanks for putting up with him.â
âItâs not putting up with him,â you reply easily, ruffling Haneulâs hair. âHeâs a sweetheart. Youâre doing a good job, Yoongi.â
Yoongi pauses, his eyes meeting yours for a long moment. âThanks,â he says quietly, his voice tinged with something you canât quite place. âThat⌠means a lot.â
Before you can respond, Haneul suddenly tugs on Yoongiâs hoodie, his little face scrunching up as he says in broken, hopeful words, âSarang⌠come⌠home?â
Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart feels like it might burst.
Yoongi blinks at his son, his expression softening, before a mischievous glint sparks in his eyes. He looks up at you, lips curling into that smirk. âI know, buddy. Iâd take her home too if I could.â
Stfu?
The comment leaves you completely shook. Is he joking? Is he serious?Â
As you try to process his words, Yoongi just winks at you, adjusting Haneul on his hip as he heads out the door.
Youâre left standing there, stunned, as he calls back over his shoulder, voice smooth like butter, âSee you tomorrow, sarang.â And with a bite of his lip, heâs gone. Taking the rest of your sanity with him.
The lights are dimmed, the daycare is quiet, and the faint smell of crayons and hand sanitizer lingers in the air as you finish locking up for the night. Itâs been a long day, but instead of feeling tired, youâre restless. Yoongiâs words plague your mind. From the time he brought up the almost kiss over Kakao and that quip he dropped when he picked up Han the other day.
Now youâre sitting in a bus stop near HYBE, gripping your phone tightly, staring at Namjoonâs contact. Youâve already typed and deleted three texts. Why is this so hard? Finally, you force yourself to type something and hit send before you can overthink it again.
You: Are you with Yoongi right now?
A reply pings back almost immediately.
Namjoon: Nope, but why? đÂ
You groan. Of course, Namjoon would latch onto that. You can practically hear his teasing tone in your head.
Before you can second-guess yourself again, you press the call button. He picks up after two rings, and before he can get a word in, you rush to say, âDonât. Justâdonât say anything stupid, Joon.â
âYo?? Me? Stupid? Never,â Namjoon says, his voice dripping with mock innocence. âBut fine, whatâs up?â
You hesitate, fiddling with the strap of your bag. âI need your help.â
Thereâs a beat of silence before Namjoon responds, his voice laced with amusement. âOkay, what kind?â
âNot the kind where you get to tease me endlessly,â you say, narrowing your eyes even though he canât see you. âJust⌠can you get me to Yoongiâs studio?â
Namjoon is silent for a moment, and you almost think the call has dropped, but then he laughs. Hard. The kind of laugh that makes you want to hang up and never speak to him again.
âJoon!â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry!â he wheezes, barely catching his breath. âMy baby's all grown up. Iâm so proud of you.â
âStoppp,â you mutter, your face heating up. âI just⌠there's something I need to say to him.â
âUh-huh,â he drawls, clearly unconvinced. âAnd this âsomethingâ couldnât wait until, I donât know, Monday?â
âNamjoon!â
âAlright, alright,â he says, the teasing note in his voice softening. âIâll text you the access code to his floor. Yoongiâs probably in there working himself into the ground anyway. Heâll be happy to see you.â
You breathe a sigh of relief. âOkayâŚThanks..â
âUse protection,â he says, his grin practically audible. âHis kidâs still a baby.âÂ
âGOODBYE, Joon.â You hang up to the sound of his laughter. Such an ass.
Fifteen minutes later, youâre standing in front of Genius Lab, Yoongiâs private sanctuary. The dimly lit hallway is eerily quiet, the only sound coming from the hum of a vending machine down the hall. Your eyes fall on the cat flipping you off on the doormat, bold letters reading: GO AWAY.
Yeah, okay. Maybe you should.
So you stand there, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. What are you doing? Whatâs the plan here?
You didnât think this through. Not really. It feels recklessâlike the day you went to his apartment and found Sung Kyung there with Haneul. You swallow hard, trying to push the memory away. You canât think about that now.
Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock. Once. Twice.
Nothing.
You start to think maybe you should leave. Maybe this was a shitty idea. Maybe you should turn around andâ
The door swings open.
Yoongi stands there, his expression caught somewhere between surprised and exhausted. His hair is slightly mussed, probably from running his hands through it, and heâs wearing a black hoodie with the sleeves of one arm pushed up to his elbows. His eyes widen when he sees you.
âTeacher Sarang,â he says slowly, like he canât quite believe youâre standing in front of him.
âHi,â you manage, gnawing on your bottom lip.
For a moment, neither of you moves.Â
Yoongi glances past you, his brows furrowing slightly. âWhat are you doing here? Itâs late.â
âI know,â you say quickly, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. âIâ I just⌠I wanted to talk. If youâre not busy.â
He blinks, his eyes scanning your face like heâs searching for something. Then he steps aside, holding the door open wider. âNo, yeah, come in.â
You take a tentative step inside, the familiar scent of coffee and faint traces of cologne washing over you. The studio is dimly lit, the soft glow of monitors reflecting off sleek black walls. Itâs minimalist but warm, the kind of space youâd expect from someone like him. Thereâs a quiet energy to it, one that feels a little intimidating.
Yoongi closes the door behind you, leaning against it. âSo,â he says, his tone careful but not unkind. âWhatâs on your mind?â
âHonestly,â you take a deep breath, staring at your socks before you lift your eyes to meet his gaze. âYou.âÂ
âOhâŚâ His brows shoot up in surprise, but the smirk that tugs at his lips betrays him. He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest.
âOh?â you parrot as realization dawns on you. The look on his face? Like he has planned this all along. Like all the things heâs been saying and doing is part of an elaborate Jedi mind trick he played on you. And now youâre hereâright where he wants you.
A quiet laugh escapes his lips as he lets you stew in your own nerves. He doesnât moveâjust stands there, waiting, like he knows exactly what youâll do next.
You take a step forward, then another, closing the distance until youâre toe-to-toe with him. The smirk growing on his face is both sexy and infuriating as shit. But okay, you remind yourself, heâs been the one waiting on you, chasing you⌠Itâs time to put your big girl pants on.
âI wasnât planning this,â you admit, letting your bag drop to the floor. âYour doormatâs rude by the way. But⌠Been thinking about what you texted. If it would have been so bad⌠if weâŚâ
âYouâve been thinking about that?â He tilts his head to the side like heâs trying to follow your train of thought. He licks his lips, maybe subconsciously, but your eyes are drawn to it like a magnet.
âNot just that. Donât act all innocent. Youâve been planting all these little seeds in my head lowkey for weeks, Min Yoongi.â
His gummy grin widens. âNo idea what youâre talking about.â
âSuspicious as fuckâŚâ You huff, your fingers reaching for the drawstrings of his hoodie. You tug on them playfully, your gaze flicking up to meet his. âAnd saying that shit in front of your own kid?â
âDamn,â He full-on chuckles, shoulders bobbing as he looks up to avoid your accusatory gaze.Â
After a while, he looks down. âAnd you came all the way here just to call me out?â He challenges, voice dropping dangerously lower. âOr are you finally gonna do something about it?â
Your pulse quickens as the distance between you shrinks, his presence so close it feels like itâs wrapping around you. You swallow hard. The thread holding your resolve together snaps.
And then it happens.
You close the space between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss thatâs every bit as desperate as youâve imagined it would be. Thereâs no hesitation with him, like he knows you are going to pounce and he is ready to be devoured. This mfâ
Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his arms wrap around your waist, steadying you against him. The way your lips move is fierce, breathless, like neither of you has the patience to take it slow. His tongue swipes against yours, curling in just the perfect way to turn your legs into jelly. Then, his grip tightens to spin you around andâshitâyour back hits the door.
Hot and heavy, he breathes your name against the crook of your neck sending electric currents down to your fingertips. Youâre easily coming undone with every graze of his soft lips, his wet tongue as it licks a stripe of skin from your neck towards the shell of your ear and the haze of lust is pulling you under slowly but surely.
But youâre not content to stay there. You push him forward, your lips locked again with his as you guide him toward the couch.
He follows easily. When the back of his knees hit the couch, he sits heavily, pulling you down with him so youâre straddling his lap.
You open your eyes and you find him locked on you, dark and all-consuming. But then something else catches your eye from your periphery, like thereâs another pair of orbs vying for your attention.
âGAHH! The fuck is that?!â you push yourself to a standing position, pointing towardsâŚ
The head of the capybara mascot.
Yoongi immediately turns crimson, his ears burning as he runs a hand through his hair.
âKnew it,â you say, staring at him in amusement.Â
âFuck.â He groans, slumping back against the couch as he covers his face with his hands. âThis is literally the worst way you could have found out.â
âWhy the hell didnât you just tell me?!â
âBecause I didnât know if you wanted me there,â he mutters, peeking at you through his fingers. âI just⌠I wanted to support you. And obviously I wanted to see Han off on his first day so the costume wasââ He pauses, clearly regretting his life choices. âSeemed like a good idea.â
Then it hits youâthe exaggerated enthusiasm, the ass-shaking, the way Haneul kept calling the mascot Appa. You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.
Yoongi groans again. âThis is so embarrassing.â
You climb onto his lap, straddling him without thinking, and gently cup his puffy cheeks between your palms. âNo, no, itâs cute.â
âYouâre never going to let this shit go, are you?â
âNot a chance.âÂ
The laughter fizzles out, replaced by a quieter kind of warmth as you shift closer. His fingers tighten slightly on your hips, grounding you in a way that feels steady and sure.
âI wanted to be there for you,â he says softly, his voice low and sincere. âI didnât know how to do it without⌠pushing too much.â
Your heart swells at his words, and you turn to face him, your gaze meeting his. âYou didnât have to do all that, Yoongi,â you say, your voice just as soft. âBut it means a lot that you did.â
His lips quirk into a small, almost shy smile.Â
âThank you,â you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. When he lets out a quiet sigh, you get bolder, letting your lips trail down to the corner of his jaw and then just barely grazing his neck.
Yoongiâs breath hitches, hands twitching slightly where they rest on your back. âY/NâŚâ
You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. âI like this look on you,â you tease, your thumb brushing over the faint pink blooming on his cheeks. âMy shy little baby boyâŚâ
He narrows his eyes on you, hands settling more firmly on your waist. âDonât push it,â he warns, but thereâs no heat to his words, only fondness.
Suddenly, a knock sounds on his door.
âYoongi-hyungâŚâ the voice calls out. âYou still alive in there?â
âFuck off, Hobi. Iâm busy.â
âThereâs an extra pair of shoes out here. And I thiiiink Iâve seen it at the daycare.â
You meet Yoongiâs eyes and heâs barely suppressing a grin. He shrugs, as if to say, itâs up to you if you wanna soft launch this thing.
Eh, why not?
âHello, Jeonghyeonâs appa,â you call out, confirming his suspicion.
You hear giggles and then a rap on the door. âWow yâall really not gonna let me in, huh?â
âGOODBYE Hobi.â You and Yoongi say in unison, and then you burst out laughing.
âBye, lovebirds.â
âDid he need you for anything?â
âYeah, actually,â Yoongi sighs, scratching the back of his neck. âBeen working on a track thatâs due tonight. Actually itâs been due and this is my last extension.â
âOh,â you pout.
âDonât pout, pretty girl.âÂ
âI guess youâre gonna have to kick me out now.â
âNot because I want to. You're welcome to stay, but you might have better things to do.â
âS fine. Iâll goâŚâ you stand up, planning to collect your bag where you dropped it when Yoongi pulls you back down by your belt loops, your full weight settling on him. He doesnât seem to mind as he cages your body against his strong arms, leaning you both back so his chin can rest on your shoulder, the one without the strain.
âI am so happy you came,â he mumbles against the fabric of your top.
âI havenât. But you better make me. Soon.â
His chest shakes against your back, âYouâre horrible.â
You stay wrapped in his arms for a while, neither of you saying much, the silence warm and comfortable. But eventually, the moment comes when you know itâs time to leave. With a reluctant sigh, you sling your bag over your shoulder and turn to goâonly to find Yoongi already on you, his lips capturing yours once more.
âYoongiâmmmphâŚâ you giggle, pushing him away lightly. âYou're never gonna get work done.â
âLet me take you to dinner tomorrow.â
âOkay.â
He catches your wrist, pulling you back for one last kissâthis one softer, slowerâbefore pushing the door open for you.
âText me when you get home,â he says and you nod.
You leave the studio with your heart in overdrive, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin. By the time youâre in the elevator, youâre grinning like crazy, excitement bubbling in your chest.
Saturday canât come fast enough.
That nightâ
You: Are u still in the studio? Yoongi: Yeah :( You: Good luck with your track. Iâm going to bed. Gnyt. Yoongi: But i miss you.âŚâŚâŚ.. You: lol You: What do you want? Yoongi: What can you offer? đ
You sit up on your bed, pulse kicking up again, the way it usually does when Yoongi is involved. Is he really asking forâŚ?Â
Fuck okay youâll bite.Â
You let the strap of your thin cami fall on your shoulders, angle your phone camera so itâs aimed at your cleavage.Â
You compose the money shot: one hand softly grasps one of your breasts making it almost spill out of your top. Your other nipple, taut and perky, its outline faintly visible against the fabric. Just the perfect visual to tease and still leave a bit of mystery.
You get a few shots and send what you think is the best one.Â
You: [image attached] Yoongi: fuck Yoongi: baby youâre so sexy You: Iâm baby now? What happened to Teacher Sarang Yoongi: idk she definitely not the one sending nudes You: stfu Yoongi: Go away im busy now You: GOODBYE yoongi Yoongi: pick you up at 7? You: If you make it worth my while Yoongi: [image attached]
Oh youâre dead. Itâs a shot of his very pink knuckles, his very veiny hands grasping his very hard cock against his dark grey sweats.
You: shit You: yes you may pick me up at 7
Your head is spinning when you cozy up under your blanket and bury your head in your pillows.
Not knowing that come morning your head will be spinning for an entirely different reason.
Dispatch Breaking News:Â SUGA of BTS and Actress Lee Sung Kyung In A Relationship Congratulations to the couple.
Part 4.5 >
A/N: Ahhhhhhh 𼲠I was initially gonna end it in the part where Yoongi opens the door to his studio and you say Hi.Â
But decided last minute to throw yâall a bone(r) and extend the scene a bit, in the spirit of Christmas. But that also meant getting to that awful last bit⌠another dun dun dun
Hope you all liked it still! See you at the comments. As per usual, tell me what you liked, hated, etc etc. Shout at me or whatever!
I always appreciate your feedback. And if you are able to, reblogs are also amazing. :)
Thanks for reading you lovely, beautiful human xo
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End of the World (m) | myg
â Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? â Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) â Genres/AUs: apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut with a very small sprinkle of comedy. â Tropes: strangers to lovers + forced proximity & only one bed (because I love that shit) â Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) â Word count: 21.3k 𫣠â Warnings + triggers: nuclear war (bombings), fire, death (people are dying so and some minor side characters die), blood and wounds (also features a lot), period blood, ptsd behavior and reactions, hunger (no access to food), anxiety attacks, hyperventilation, guns and knifes, shooting, self defense, m*rder in self defense, exposure to radiation. Minor character deaths. The ending is open and bittersweet. The story is just really grim and angsty and sad (but also comforting) ���� â Warnings (explicit: smut): oral (f and m receiving), nipple play/sucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, dirty talk, pleasing kink, protected sex (it might be the end of the world, but fret not Yoongiâs got condoms!), clit play, cockwarming, kissing, a small scene of public sex (they are outside on a hill, np people around). â Authorâs note(1): So I have mixed feelings about it and the smut got less detailed than what I usually write (because Iâm getting a bit tired of smut honestly, so sorry if it sucks), and Iâm scared of what youâll think of itâ but here it is! I felt a lot of pressure with it, so I had my husband beta-ing it đ Which gave us a lot of laughs! I hope you enjoy it â â Read on AO3? [link]
[navi]: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue
A deep, ominous rumbling reverberates through the silence, a sinister caress against your ears.Â
Eyes shut tight, your breaths are slow and steady, an island of peace in a sea of unrest. But the tranquility shatters as the rumbling intensifies, transforming into a relentless quake that grips your bed. You jolt awake, eyes opening just in time to be seared by a blinding white flash, burning into your vision with a harsh, unforgiving light.
Your ears ring with an unforgiving high pitched sound that makes it feel like your ears are bleeding.
You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut once more, but the world doesnât let you escape.Â
A cacophony of rumbling, shaking, and distant, panicked screams erupts around you.Â
When you dare to open your eyes again, your bedroom has transformed into a nightmarish landscapeâ no longer a safe, enclosed space, but exposed to the elements. The dark sky looms overhead, thick with acrid smoke. Everything is engulfed in an oppressive, inky gloom that seems so dark, dark, dark.
You curl into yourself on the bed, eyes wide as you take in the scene around you. Itâs like a nightmarish tableau image from a dystopian survival movie: the once serene sky is now obliterated, suffocated by a churning ocean of thick, acrid smoke. Flames roar hungrily around you, casting an eerie, flickering light on the chaos. The air is thick with the sound of terrified screams and the relentless boom of destruction. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your heart pounding furiously, as if it might burst from your chest at any moment.
The rumbling returns, more ominous this time, and you look up to see a fighter jet slicing through the smoke-choked sky. It releases a payload, and your heart clenches in dread. A deafening explosion follows as the bomb strikes, setting your ears ablaze again, and obliterating buildings and scarring the landscape. The screams of the people around you become a haunting symphony of terror. It feels like youâre trapped in an unending nightmare, each second more horrifying than the last.
You pinch yourself hardâso hard it breaks the skin, and a thin trail of blood trickles down. But the pain barely registers. You squeeze your eyes shut, then open them again, desperate to end the nightmare before you. This has to be a trick of the mind, an illusion, right?Â
But the horrifying reality remains unchanged, pressing in on you from all sides.
No. Itâs not a trick of the mind.Â
The stark, horrifying reality sets in as your throat tightens and your body thrums with fear. This is real. This is happeningâto you, to your friendsâfuck. Your roommates.Â
Panic seizes you as you leap off the bed, the house now a fragmented ruin, its sections strewn outside in the chaos. Heart pounding, you scramble through the wreckage, desperately searching for your friends amid the devastation.
Please, let them be okayâyou canât face this alone.Â
Youâre not prepared for this.Â
You canât do this.Â
When the government warned about preparing for a potential war or a nuclear disaster, you thought it was a grim joke. You never believed it would actually happenânever believed it would happen to you. But now, the cold, harsh reality is crashing down around you, and the fear is suffocating.
Tears blur your vision, making it hard to see. The acrid air burns your lungs, and each breath is a struggle. The ringing in your head makes you dizzy. You cough violently, but you press on, driven by a desperate need to find your two roommates. You have to make sure theyâre okay, no matter the cost.
A sound of coughing reaches your ears, and a wave of relief washes over you. You spot some of Hanaâs belongings scattered on the ground, charred at the edges. The acrid smell of burnt fabric stings your nose. There, sprawled halfway on her bed, is Hanaâcoughing, crying, her eyes barely open, a picture of despair amid the wreckage.
âHana?â you croak, your voice sounding strangled and unfamiliar, as if someone else is speaking. The dissonance sends your heart pounding even harder in your chest, the fear and urgency nearly overwhelming you.
She coughs again, crimson droplets falling from her lips, staining the ground beneath her. The sight of her blood on the ground sends a wave of dread through you. Rushing to her side, you assess her quickly; her complexion is pallid, drained of life. Each shallow breath she takes seems an agonizing struggle, as if the very act of breathing is draining her strength.
She struggles to speak, but you gently shake your head, tears streaming down your face. Deep down you know she wonât survive this. Your throat tightens painfully, a lump forming as you grasp the harsh reality. Sheâs not just a friend; sheâs your best friend. Your hands tremble as you reach out, brushing away her tears, feeling the warmth of her blood on your fingertips. You donât care about the stains. All you want is to offer her comfort, to reassure her even as your own doubts and tears blur your vision.Â
How could any of this ever be okay?
How is this your reality?
She leans into your trembling hand, her eyelids fluttering closed as she takes her final breath. A wave of anguish washes over your face, and you collapse beside her, your forehead touching hers. The weight of grief presses down on you, a suffocating blend of fear, helplessness, and nausea.
The distant screams jolt you back to the present, your chest tight with anguish for your best friend. With a heavy heart, you tear yourself away, knowing thereâs another roommate who needs your helpâYuri.
Tears sting your eyes as you navigate cautiously through the debris. Your gaze fixates on a pair of shoesâwhether they belong to you or Hana doesnât matter now. Snatching them up, you slide them onto your bare, blistered feet, grateful for any protection from the searing ground and jagged remnants of the house strewn about.
You locate Yuri swiftly amidst the chaos; her bewildered expression a fleeting moment of relief. Your heart leaps at the sight of her alive. Ignoring the acrid smoke that burns your lungs, you pull her into a tight embrace with both of you coughing violently in the toxic air.
âWhat happened?â Yuriâs voice rasps through fits of coughing. Her wide eyes reflecting fear and confusion, her pallid face etched with disbelief.
âI donât know,â you cry out desperately, clinging to Yuri as if your life depends on it, unwilling to let go for fear she might vanish into the chaos. Your grip tightens, desperate to shield her from the crumbling world around you.
Then, in the distance, alarms pierce the air with a relentless wail. A chill races down your spine, and as you meet Yuriâs gaze, an unspoken understanding passes between youâthis is no accident. War has come.
You never thought this day would come, always dismissing warnings from politicians as distant, improbable threats. But now, as reality crashes down around you, you realize you should have listened. You should have prepared for the worst, braced for the impossible. Panic grips you as you face the stark truth: thereâs no escaping it now. What the hell are you supposed to do?
The distant drone of planes echoes through the sky once more, and a chill of dread courses through your trembling body. You never imagined youâd fear the sound of airplanes, but in these shifting times, everything has become a harbinger of uncertainty.
The cityscape around you lies in ruins with buildings shattered and strewn like broken toys. The urgency grips you as you realize the only option left: escape the city.Â
Now.
âYuri, we need to move,â you declare urgently, your eyes wide with dreadâfor the uncertain future, for your very survival. You curse under your breath, trying to quell the rising panic threatening to consume you.
Yuriâs eyes remain wide, almost vacant, as if she struggles to comprehend the shattered reality that surrounds you bothâa new world, unfathomable and bleak.
You snap Yuri out of her stupor, dragging her along as you navigate through the shattered bathroom. The toilet lies in ruins on the ground, shards of the shower surround you like jagged teeth. Despite the chaos, you spot the first aid kit amidst the debris, knowing it will be crucial in this harsh new reality.
Yuriâs voice trembles as she blurts out, âWe need to take those pills. In the pouch. I got them just in case. Theyâre potassium iodide pills and will protect your thyroid if thereâs radioactive iodine in the bomb.â You hesitate for a moment, then nod in grim understanding. Snatching the pouch from its battered position, you fumble with it until you locate the pills. Each of you swallows one with a gulp, the bitter taste clinging to your tongue like a grim reminder of the world outside. With a heavy sigh, you tuck the pouch back into the depleted first aid kit.
âWe need to find bags and gather anything useful,â you mutter. Your mind races in overdrive as you calculate what essentials are necessary for survival in this new reality.
Amidst the cacophony of screams and the encroaching flames, you and Yuri spring into action, scouring the wreckage for backpacks. They will be easier to carry when every ounce counts. Your hands shake as you rummage through the debris, grabbing water bottles, clothing, and anything else salvageable. Panic sets in, your heart pounding, realizing you need food too, right?
You trudge toward the kitchen, but itâs a wastelandâshattered glass, twisted metal, and the acrid smell of burnt remnants fill the air. Nothing remains salvageable, not even a scrap of food.
Panic surges through you.Â
No food?Â
How will you survive?Â
The reality hits hard: youâll need to scavenge for food while fleeing the city. The wreckage around you is overwhelming, casting doubt on finding anything edible. How long can a person endure without food? The question gnaws at your mind, amplifying your fear and uncertainty.
Deflated, you sigh, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. Survival seems impossible, but you force a hopeful smile as you reunite with Yuri, masking your despair. The world around you is shrouded in darkness and gloom, every step a reminder of the bleakness ahead.
Screams echo all around you, a relentless assault on your senses. You try to block them out, but itâs impossibleâthe anguished cries of the wounded, the desperate calls for loved ones, the raw agony and fear permeate the air.Â
Itâs unbearable; a living nightmare.
You ache to grieve for your friend, but thereâs no time to stand still, no time to mourn whatâs lost. With a heavy heart, you force yourself not to look back at Hanaâs lifeless form. Grabbing Yuriâs hand, you push ahead, driven by a single, desperate resolve: to escape this hellish city. And fast.
Your body shivers despite the fires warming the air slightly. Itâs still cold in the middle of September. You glance down at yourself, taking in your attireâa satin nightgown, its lacy seams stained with blood. But you canât afford to care, nor do you have time to change. Your sole focus is to escape this hellscape, to put as much distance as possible between you and the burning city before worrying about anything else.
You pull Yuri away from the remnants of your house, each step deliberate as you navigate the treacherous debris. The ground is a minefield of twisted metal and shattered glass, and you canât afford an injury.Â
Your heart races and your body shivers uncontrollably, but you force yourself to push forward. The streets are a nightmarish landscape of charred bodies, gutted buildings, and smoldering wreckage. The air is thick with the sounds of anguished cries and desperate shouts. Shattered windows, jagged glass, and twisted metal litter your path as flames roar high into the darkened sky.
You canât fathom how quickly everything spiraled into chaos. In mere seconds, then minutes, the world you knew disintegrated into a living nightmare.Â
Your legs feel like lead, your mind foggy and exhausted. The cold, smoke-laden air clings to your lungs, but you force yourself to press on. Yuriâs hand in yours is the only anchor in this hellish new reality, a faint source of calm amid the chaos.
Thankfully, you live on the outskirts of the city.Â
Normally, youâd discern it was nighttime just by looking at the sky, but now, the sky is pitch black and choked with smoke. You avert your gaze from the devastated city and look toward what seems like a serene, calm direction. Is it an illusion, a cruel trick of your mind?Â
Desperation tugs at you, urging you toward this perceived sanctuary, a beacon of safety amidst the chaos.
Yuri coughs harshly behind you, and you spin around, dread tightening your chest as she spits up blood. You try to reassure yourself, though deep down, you know itâs futile.
âI donât want to die,â Yuri pants between coughs, her voice strained with fear. You grip her hand tighter, desperate to offer reassurance in a world where safety is a fleeting illusion.
âYouâre not going to die,â you assert, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, a feeble attempt to dispel the pervasive fear. âWeâll find a safe place, find some food, and make it throughâ everything will be fine.â You try to infuse conviction into your voice, but the hollowness echoes back at you, revealing the truth you dare not acknowledge.
But maybe if you keep telling yourself that everything is fine enough times, reality will bend to your desperate wishes?
Youâve been walking for what feels like an eternity, your sense of time warped by the perpetual darkness above. Thereâs no sky to gauge the hour anymoreâ gone as the stars that once were.
Your feet ache, battered and throbbing with exhaustion, begging for respite. The need for rest weighs heavily on you, but the cityâs relentless grip refuses to release you. The daunting truth forces a weary sigh from your lips.
Yuri trembles, tears mingling with the grime on her cheeks, and you canât shake the thought that she might be falling ill. Dread gnaws at youâwhat if itâs something fatal?
Your legs refuse to carry you any further, and staying exposed on the desolate road is a dangerous gamble. Youâve sensed shadows trailing your every moveâwhat do they seek? Your clothes, the rations you donât have, your very survival kit? You dare not linger to discover their intentions, yet exhaustion demands a pause. You must rest, even as paranoia grips your weary mind, hoping for a brief refuge to steady your faltering steps.
Adrenaline surges, urging you to hasten your steps, desperate to lose the shadowy figures trailing behind. The cityscape thins as you approach its outskirts. The dwindling buildings offer fewer places to conceal yourselves. Despite the fewer options, youâre determined to evade capture. With a sharp turn, you pull a breathless Yuri around the corner, heart pounding in sync with the echoing footsteps behind you.
You slip into a ravaged boutique, its shattered door gaping wide for easy entry. The dim interior reveals racks of torn clothing and broken mannequins strewn across the floor. You guide Yuri deeper inside, settling her on the dusty tiles. Her pallid face stands out starkly in the oppressive darkness, a chilling reminder of the perilous world outside. The thought of losing another friend tonight claws at your gut, urging you to find safety and respite in this decaying sanctuary.
âHow are you holding up?â you inquire, your voice tinged with apprehension. Despite your fear of the response, you must know.
She trembles, her voice quivering. âIâm not doing well,â she admits. Her eyes wide with unspoken dread. âI donât think Iâll make it.â
âOf course you will,â you choke out, your voice cracking with emotion, unable to confront the specter of death. The memory of Hanaâs bloodied face flashes vividly in your mind, tears tracing the path down your grimy cheeks. Why must this nightmare persist?
âYouâre a lousy liar, you know?â she quips weakly, a grim chuckle escaping her lips as she coughs up blood, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand. She studies the red stains on her palm with resignation, exhaling heavily.
You furrow your brow. Deep down, you know your attempts at optimism are feeble at best. In your friend group, youâve always been the pragmatic realist, but now, youâll play the role of hopeful optimist if it means coaxing a smile from Yuriâs pale face. You bite back any further words, aware that Yuri can read you like a book, predictable as always.
You slump onto the frigid tile floor of the store, grateful for a brief respite from the relentless march. The cold seeps through your clothes, a bitter reminder of the world outside, but your weary feet finally find a momentâs reprieve.
Youâre uncertain how much time Yuri has left, but youâre determined to muster every ounce of strength to lead both of you to safety, far from the chaosâthis inferno of a city, this relentless war that has begun.
How long will this last?
The shuffle of broken glass on the tile sends a shiver down your spine, sharpening your senses. Someone approaches, and youâre defenseless. Panic grips youâthis is bad. Very bad.
Footsteps echo ominously, a chilling reminder of imminent danger. Yuriâs gaze meets yours, wide with fear and tears threatening to spill. The certainty settles inâthis is how you die.
A looming silhouette emergesâa figure cloaked in darkness; their presence ominous and foreboding. Dread creeps up your spine as you realize the danger before you.
You scramble backward, but the shelves halt your retreat, trapping you in a corner with no escape. Panic surges as time slips awayâyour feet ache, and Yuriâs condition weighs heavily. The man advances, his silence more menacing than any threat, his cold, unyielding gaze fixed upon you.
Uncertain of the strangerâs intentionsâmurder or something worse? Your heart races, adrenaline surges through your veins as he moves closer. In a split-second decision, survival instincts take over. You lunge, sinking your teeth into his arm, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Like a desperate animal, you bite down harder, unrelenting until he screams in agony and collapses to the ground, clutching his injured limb.
âYou fucking bitch!â he spits, struggling to rise despite the pain.
You hiss through clenched teeth, rising to your feet, closing the distance to charge at him, a wild glint in your eyes. âTry me again, and Iâll bite your fucking dick off.â The threat hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by the burning cityscape beyond. Your blood simmers with adrenaline, a primal urge overshadowing your usual self-control. Youâre not yourself anymore, but one thing is clear; youâre more than willing to follow through.
He flinches, a flicker of fear crossing his face, and satisfaction courses through you. Your grin widens as he scrambles backward toward the shattered entrance, then finally turns and bolts, disappearing into the smoke-laden darkness.
You exhale sharply, unaware youâd been holding your breath. Returning to Yuri, still hunched over on the floor, clutching her stomach, you kneel beside her, heart pounding in dread as you examine her stomach.
Carefully prying her hand away, the sticky warmth confirms your fearâ blood, seeping from her abdomen. Swiftly lifting her nightshirt, you reveal a small yet troubling wound. Fumbling through your backpack, your hands find the first aid kit amidst the chaos, extracting antiseptic to cleanse the injury. With trembling hands, you cover it with gauze and secure it with tape, knowing itâs a temporary fixâ but this will have to do for now.
âI think debris hit me when the first bomb struck,â she explains, her breath ragged and filled with pain.
âItâs okay. Itâs not that bad,â you manage to say, forcing a smile that fails to reach your eyes. Who were you kidding anyway?
You settle beside her, allowing her head to rest on your shoulder. âLetâs rest. You sleep, and Iâll keep watch,â you murmur, scanning the shadows with wary eyes.
Her head nestles against your shoulder and neck. âBut you need rest too,â she whispers. Her voice is barely audible over the distant sounds of chaos echoing through the shattered cityscape.
âIâll sleep later. Donât worry about it; just go to sleep,â you command, the edge in your voice betraying the fear and exhaustion gnawing at you. You didnât mean to sound so stern, but the cold reality of the situation weighs heavily on your shoulders. You wish someone could offer you the same reassuranceâ tell you this is all just a bad dream. Soon youâll wake up and everything will be as it was.
Or for someone to tell you this is all just a movie, and youâre just an actress playing your part in some bizarre doomsday flick. But deep down, you know youâre no actress, this is no movieâ sadly, this is real life, and youâre just a twenty-nine-year-old woman with a dead-end job.
Guess you donât have that job at the cafĂŠ anymore. Thereâs probably no cafĂŠ left standing. The place likely went up in flames like much else in the city.
You listen to Yuriâs breathing, its slow cadence a brief respite from the cacophony outsideâplanes droning, people fleeing, and the distant echoes of screams. In just a few hours, these sounds have become the new normal, yet each one still sends a shiver down your spine.
You keep vigil through the restless hours as you had assured Yuri. Time blurs in the suffocating darkness, making it impossible to discern whether itâs night or day. Hours seem to stretch like endless tendrils of despair. With dawn or dusk lost to the smoke-filled horizon, you gently rouse Yuri, steeling yourself to resume your desperate quest for safety.
Yuriâs voice, usually vibrant and full of life, now emerges as a subdued whisper. âSo it wasnât just a nightmareâŚâ Her words hang heavy in the air, laced with the grim realization that this dystopian nightmare has become your bleak reality.
âIâm afraid so,â you admit, your voice echoing in the desolate store. âWe have to keep moving. Get out of the city.â Your limbs ache with every movement, a constant reminder of the nightâs horrors. Yawning, you rise and gently pull Yuri to her feet. Before venturing out, you take a sip of water from your dwindling supply, feeling hunger gnaw at your stomach. Food is a distant luxury now, replaced by the urgency of survival.
Stepping out of the store, you survey the aftermath; where once vibrant flames danced, now only smoldering ruins remain. The landscape is awash in gray and ash falling like snow, towering skyscrapers reduced to skeletal frames or gaping maws of destruction. Smoke billows thick and acrid, clawing at your throat with every breath, forcing a cough to escape. This city, once teeming with life, now lies desolate and unrecognizableâa shattered testament to a world irreparably changed. This was your home, but now itâs a forsaken wasteland, a haunting reminder of the relentless march of destruction closing in around you.
If you manage to escape this city, this will probably never be your home again.
Pressing onward, you drag a weary, ghostly-pale Yuri in tow. Each step feels like a battle against the weight of the world collapsing around you, but you refuse to relent. The streets stretch out before you, barren and haunting, a maze of debris and ominous shadows. You move cautiously, every sound magnified in the eerie silence of the ruined cityscape, knowing that survival hinges on reaching safety, no matter how small the steps.
You walk and walk. The road stretches endlessly into the horizon, an unrelenting path of despair. Gradually, the landscape shifts from the shattered remnants of the city to the bleak desolation of nature, though nothing remains green. Everything is gray and charred, the outskirts bombed into an unrecognizable wasteland. Each step is a journey through the aftermath of destruction, a grim testament to the world that once was.
Body heavy and feet blistered, you can barely drag yourself forward, and Yuri is faring even worse. You decide to stop, the weight of exhaustion forcing your hand. The world around you is silent save for the distant echoes of disaster. You find a small, secluded spot to relieve yourself, then reach into your backpacks for the precious water bottles. The liquid is a lifeline in this scorched, desolate landscape.
âI think Iâm dying,â Yuri pants as she collapses onto a stone, her face ghostly pale, lips tinged with blue, eyes glassy and distant. The sight sends a cold lump forming in your throat, a suffocating denial choking you because you canât accept this as reality. It has to be just a stupid fucking nightmare.
You glance at your arm where you pinched yourself yesterday. The tiny scar is a mocking reminder of your futile hope. You barely register the pain; all you want is for this nightmare to end, for the world to return to a semblance of normalcy.
âYouâre not dying,â you insist, voice trembling as you crouch down to meet her gaze. But her eyes are distant, unfocused, as if sheâs already slipping away. A tear escapes down your cheek, cutting through the grime of this hellish reality.
âStop lying, bitch,â she hisses, her voice a fragile blend of defiance and despair. She rolls her eyes in mock anger, the gesture marred by the blood she spits up, staining the ground like a cruel reminder of reality.
âI canât walk anymore, and my stomach hurts so bad,â she pants, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face as she clutches her wound. Blood seeps through her shirt, a grim testament to her worsening state. You glance up at the sky, a bleak, gray expanse that offers no solace. Clenching your fist, you rage silently at the faceless enemies responsible for this devastation. Itâs not just your friends; itâs the entire city, maybe the whole country. Fear gnaws at you as you realize you have no idea of the worldâs state. Is it just your country? The entire world? You curse yourself for not packing a radio to stay informed.
Youâre wondering if there would be any information on your phone, but you donât want to use it, because you donât have anything to charge it with. You want to save it for extreme emergencies.Â
âWeâre finally out of the city,â you say, trying to infuse your voice with hope. âMaybe we can make it to another house down the road that can help us.â The words feel hollow, and you both know the truth: Yuri isnât going to make it that far. Her labored breathing and the pallor of her skin betray the grim reality.
She coughs up more blood, almost choking. âWe both know the next house is in the next city, over a hundred kilometers away,â she rasps, each word a painful reminder of the hopelessness stretching before you.
You lower your gaze to the grimy, ash-covered road. Sheâs right, of course. Itâs likely far more than a few hundred kilometers, and the trek ahead promises to be an endless, harrowing journey through desolation.
Ashes swirl in the air like snow, a haunting reminder of your ravaged city. For a fleeting moment, you glance back, taking in the sight of crumbling buildings, smoldering remnants, and the acrid stench of smoke that clings to your senses. The scene turns your stomach, and you double over beside Yuri, bile rising in your throat, the bitter taste lingering like a grim testament to the cityâs devastation.
âIâm freezing⌠Will you stay with me? Wrap your arms around me?â she pleads, her voice trembling with cold and fear, tears welling in her eyes, mirrored in yours. You nod silently, your heart heavy with the weight of whatâs to come. She collapses onto the ground, and you join her, enveloping her frail, shivering form in your arms, seeking warmth amidst the chilling winds that whisper of desolation and despair.
âPromise me youâll do everything you can to get to safety, okay?â she stutters, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with yours. Your heart breaks because you donât want this reality. You canât bear to lose another friend, but youâre helpless. Youâre no doctor, and Yuriâs injuries are beyond your ability to heal. Itâs a cruel truth that gnaws at your soul. Anger surges through you, directed at whoever orchestrated this devastation upon your friends, your city, your homeland. This world has become a cold and merciless place.
Youâve always been an ugly crier, and this is no different, but neither of you cares as tears stream uncontrollably down your faces. âIâll try my best,â you manage to choke out, the words catching in your throat amidst the despair.
âWhen Iâm goneâŚ,â she begins, and a chill runs through your body at her words, âwill you drag my body over to those bushes?â Her voice is strained, barely above a whisper, as if even speaking about her own death is too much to bear.
Even though your voice is hoarse, your wailing echoes through the desolate landscape, a mournful cry that seems to merge with the howling wind. You nod silently, tears streaming down your face, blurring the bleak surroundings into a haunting blur of despair and loss.
âThank you,â she whispers, her voice barely audible as she lays her head down on your shoulder. Her breaths are faint and fleeting, each one a fragile thread in the unraveling tapestry of her life. You hold your breath, feeling the weight of each passing moment as her heartbeat dwindles, a painful echo of the world falling silent around you.
Your fists clench involuntarily, a futile attempt to grasp the reality unfolding before you: sitting beside your dying friend in this bleak, shattered world. This isnât how life was supposed to beâwitnessing the unraveling of everything you hold dear. You never signed up for this torment, this heart-wrenching despair that consumes you.Â
Why?Â
The question lingers like a haunting echo in the desolation.
Yuriâs breathing slows to a crawl, each breath a strained whisper of life. You turn your gaze to her face, her eyelids fluttering faintlyâsheâs clinging to existence. The agony etched on her features is unbearable, and a chilling realization settles in: maybe death is a mercy in this ravaged world. Her suffering is too much to endure, and part of you wishes she could escape it. Itâs a cruel acceptance, knowing that letting go might be the kindest act left, even though you really donât want her to go.
The silence closes in like a shroud, burnt leaves swirling in the air, whipped by the relentless wind. Itâs eerie, the smoke and ash embracing everything. Your hand seeks Yuriâs, fingers tracing to her wrists, and there, you check for her pulseâabsent, lost amidst the desolation.
You scream and cry, heedless of any who might hear amidst the desolate landscape. This world, so callous and unforgiving, engulfs you. Tears cascade down like a torrent, emotions unchecked. You gasp for air in the acrid, ashen atmosphere, your body trembling uncontrollably.
Sheâs gone. Another friend, lost to this merciless world.
You sit there, by the side of the road, time slipping through your fingers like sand in a storm. Hours pass, maybe more, the world reduced to desolation around you. A lone figure passed by earlier, casting a glance your way, but the urgency of survival drove him on, leaving you and your dead friend to the merciless elements. The cityâs ruins loom in the distance behind you, a reminder of the chaos that has consumed everything.
You know you must move, but before you leave, thereâs a promise to fulfill for Yuri.
You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there.Â
Itâs your only chance.
You walk and walkâdays blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earthâs violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you canât even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, youâd have long since fallen.
You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far youâve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.
Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat is parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and youâve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon youâve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.
Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step.Â
Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; youâre still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat.Â
No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.
Youâve lost track of timeâis it still September?Â
The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you canât afford. You feel like youâre unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.
The roses have withered, frost seeping into your bones. The birds no longer sing at dawn, and the grass by the roadside shrivels to brown. In the encroaching darkness, the cries of the forsaken echoâabandoned by fate and by man.
When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. Youâre nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it isâa lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced youâve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.
The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by bombs, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you canât escape.
You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.
âWho are you?â a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.
Slowly, your eyes flutter open, your eyelids feeling like lead, gritty with exhaustion. Your vision swims, a blur of muted colors and shadowy shapes. You blink, trying to bring the world into focus. Through the haze, you make out a figure sitting on a chair not far from you. Panic grips your chest.Â
Fuck.Â
Where are you?
Your pulse quickens, and you jolt into a sitting position with a startled gasp, blinking as your vision finally clears; you find yourself in a bed, surrounded by bandages and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Youâre in someoneâs houseâa manâs house, and he's seated across from you, watching intently.
He sports long, unkempt black hair that curls at the ends, paired with a ragged shirt jacket, torn jeans, and a plain black tee. His knees jitter nervously, as if he canât find solace or calm in this chaotic world.
He sits clutching the rifle that had greeted your face before you blacked out. A cold shiver courses through you, fear gripping your heart at the thought of imminent danger. But if he intended to harm you, wouldnât he have done it already?
He clears his throat, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade, harsh and demanding. His eyebrow arches in suspicion as he growls, âWho are you?â
His steely demeanor makes your throat tighten, but you swallow your fear and force out the words. âIâm Y/N. I live in the city. Well⌠I lived there, beforeâŚâ Your voice trails off as the weight of your new reality presses down on you. Nervously, you bite your lip, eyes darting around the room. Youâre in a bedroomâking-size bed, you assume. High open shelves are stocked with toilet paper, dry food, canned goods, plastic water bottles, multiple first aid kits, and warm blankets. The sight of these supplies leaves you gaping. âAre you a prepper?â you ask, disbelief tinged with a sliver of hope.
He scoffs, a bitter edge to his voice, clearly unimpressed by your assumption. âIâm not a prepper,â he snaps, eyes narrowing as he tightens his grip on the rifle. âNow, tell me what youâre doing here, unless you want me to shoot you.â
You gulp, your throat dry and tightâ the cold steel of his rifle isnât just for show. His steely eyes tell you heâs a man who will follow through on his threats. You need to speak quickly, clearly. âIâm fleeing from the city,â you sputter in a rush, words tumbling over each other. âMy home is destroyed. I havenât eaten in god knows how long, Iâm thirsty, and I just want a place to rest and stay away from the war.â Your breath catches, lightheaded from the effort.
His eyebrows arch in surprise, the hard edge in his voice softening to a wary curiosity. âHave you been walking since the first bomb hit?â he asks, the malice momentarily replaced by a flicker of genuine intrigue.
You nod, exhaustion settling deep in your bones despite your unconscious respite. Time feels warped and meaningless. âHow long have I been out?â you ask, the reality of your situation hitting harder as you notice youâre still in your tattered nightgown, a haunting reminder that it couldnât have been long.
âOnly an hour,â he replies, his voice a rough whisper. âI cleaned some of your scrapes and wounds.â He gestures to your arms and legs, now meticulously bandaged, the clean white stark against your dirt-streaked skin. The care feels almost alien in this ravaged world.
âThank you,â you manage, offering a small, weary smile. The words feel foreign on your tongue. Despite the rifle and his guarded demeanor, you feel a sliver of tension ease in this fragile sanctuary.
âSo you havenât eaten anything in three weeks?â he suddenly shouts, disbelief cutting through his gruff exterior. His eyes scan you from head to toe, and you feel exposed, vulnerable under his intense scrutiny, making you squirm.
âThree weeks? That canât be right... Maybe a week,â you mutter, your voice small as you fidget with the duvet covering your legs. You glance down at the bloodstained sheets, wondering why he placed you in the bed with your filthy clothes. But then again, in this shattered world, stained sheets are the least of your worries.
âItâs been almost three weeks since the bombings started,â he says, placing the rifle beside his chair. âIâm Yoongi, by the way. Sorry about pointing my rifle at youâitâs just...thereâve been people trying to raid my supplies.â He scratches his head, a nervous gesture that contrasts with the cold, hard edge of survival in his voice.
A sudden knock on the door startles both of you. You shiver on the bed, wide-eyed and afraid. Yoongiâs expression hardens as he swiftly picks up his rifle, eyes narrowing with suspicion. âFriends of yours?â he asks, his voice low and tense.
Your eyes dart down to your trembling hands as a tear escapes, tracing a path down your grime-streaked face. âNo,â you whisper, voice cracking, âDonât have any more of those left.â
He notices the sadness in your eyes but remains silent, rising to his feet and heading toward the front door. You follow, a compulsion driven by a mix of fear and curiosity. As you move from the bedroom through a narrow hallway, you glimpse an open living room and kitchen space before reaching the door. Yoongi raises his rifle, mirroring the moment you first encountered him.Â
Before he can react, the door bursts open, slamming into him and causing him to stumble back. A wild-eyed man, covered in dirt and smeared with blood, lunges inside. His crazed gaze locks onto you as he charges forward, a feral desperation in his movements.
âGive me food or Iâll kill you!â he shouts, launching himself at your exhausted body. You hit the floor with a heavy thud, groaning in pain, but adrenaline kicks in, sharpening your senses. As you claw at his skin, the man, wild-eyed and desperate, seems beyond reason, driven by hunger and survivalâmuch like yourself.Â
But you need to get him off you.Â
Your heart pounds in your chest as you use your legs to kick him in the groin. He hisses in pain, and you seize the moment, tumbling him over. His back hits the floor with a sickening thud. You straddle him, screaming and hissing, your hands instinctively finding his throat. You press down, your vision narrowing to the singular focus of survival, fueled by desperation and fear in a world gone mad.
He fights you for control, his nails digging into your sides, tearing your nightgown. In a violent twist, heâs on top of you again, pinning you to the floor. You struggle against his weight, every muscle screaming, the cold, hard surface pressing into your spine. The room spins around you, and the desperation in his eyes mirrors your own.
But then, heâs yanked off you, dragged by his hair, Yoongiâs grip unyielding. The intruderâs wild eyes meet yours for a fleeting moment before Yoongi raises his rifle. A deafening bang is sent through the room, and the manâs body crumples. Blood splatters everywhere, painting the floor in a macabre pattern. The scent of gunpowder mixes with the iron tang of blood, and the room falls into an eerie silence, save for the ringing in your ears.
You scream, the sound raw and primal, echoing in the suffocating silence. Your heart hammers against your ribs, each beat threatening to choke you. Nausea churns in your gut as the reality of what just happened slams into you. Who the fuck is this guy? He just killed a man! Disbelief crashes over you, and fear grips your chest like a vise. The room spins, your breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps as you teeter on the edge of hyperventilation, panic surging through your veins like ice.
You gasp for air, eyes wide with terror, as Yoongi throws the rifle to the floor. The strangerâs body lies motionless in a spreading pool of blood, a stark reminder of the brutality that surrounds you. Shivering uncontrollably, you try to crawl away from Yoongi and the corpse, each movement a struggle against your own paralyzing fear. Tears blur your vision as you sob, feeling like youâve just traded one nightmare for another, the weight of this dystopian hell pressing down on you from all sides.
Yoongi approaches you cautiously, his voice low and soothing. âRelax, everything is okay,â he reassures, his hands extended in a calming gesture, fingers splayed to show he means no harm. Despite his gentle demeanor, you retreat further, wary and unsure if his kindness is a facade. The air is thick with tension, echoing the uncertainty of this dystopian world where trust is a luxury long lost.
âOkay? You just shot a man!â Your frantic scream echoes off the walls, each word laced with fear and disbelief as you feel the cold concrete pressing against your back. Panic rises, clawing at your throat. Thereâs nowhere left to go; youâre trapped, cornered in this unforgiving world.
âYeah, he was going to kill us and steal my food.â his voice steady, as if justifying his actions were routine in this harsh reality.
You stare at him in disbelief, your gasping intensifying. âSo that means he deserves to die?â The accusation hangs heavy in the air, tears streaming down your cheeks in rapid succession. Dizziness swirls through you, fingers tingling with adrenaline and fear.
âRelax,â he says again, his voice soothing yet unsettling as he moves closer.
You refuse to ease up. You want him gone, and you want this goddamn nightmare to end. You yearn for normalcy, for everything to revert to how it was before. You donât belong here with this Yoongi, a stranger turned killer. How the hell are you going to escape this mess?
âIâm not going to hurt you,â he says, his voice steady yet tinged with an edge of authority. âIf I wanted you dead, youâd be gone by now.â
His reassurances fall flat against the pounding of your heart. You struggle to process his words; your mind feels clouded, suffocated. Each breath is a battle, your chest constricting with a pain so intense, it threatens to overwhelm you.
âPlease, calm down. Youâre having a panic attack and you have to breathe calmly,â he urges, crouching before you. Your eyes widen with fear, anticipating harm from this stranger. Yet, as his warm hand gently rests on your shoulder, its reassuring weight steadies your erratic breaths. Tears still streaming, you gasp for air, but gradually, your breathing steadies, the tension in your chest easing with each controlled inhale.
âThatâs good. Listen, Iâm not gonna hurt you,â he assures, his gaze piercing into yours to convey sincerity. You nod hesitantly. Despite the fact that heâs taken a life, his actions in tending to your wounds suggest he harbors no ill intent toward you. Surely, he wouldnât go through all that trouble if his intentions were sinister, would he?
âI canât believe you killed a man, just like thatâŚâ you mutter in disbelief, your voice tinged with horror.Â
âWould you rather he killed us?â he asks bluntly, a shrug punctuating his matter-of-fact tone.
âNo,â you reply, the certainty in your voice belying the tumult of emotions inside you.
âLook. It was either him or us. Iâd rather live. This is just how life is now, I guess,â he says solemnly, rising to his feet and striding past the lifeless body toward the kitchen. He returns with biscuits and a water bottle. âHere, eat some crackers and drink some water. You have to start slow if you havenât eaten in weeks,â he advises gently, handing you the items. Your fingers brush against his as you take them.
âYou can take a shower; itâs in the bedroom. While you do that, Iâll get rid of the body.â
You nod, fingers trembling as you pry open the crackers and take a hesitant bite. They taste dry and unfamiliar, like theyâve been preserved for years. Your stomach churns in protest, unaccustomed to solid food after weeks of deprivation. Sipping water, you set both items down beside you.Â
âThank you,â you manage to whisper, offering him a small, grateful smile, relief flooding through you as your heart finally settles into a steady rhythm.
âNo problem. You can grab some of my clothes in the bathroom. That poor nightgown isnât doing much to cover you,â he says with a slight chuckle. You glance down and realize half of your right breast is exposed, your hands instinctively flying to shield it from view.
Youâre embarrassed, cheeks burning, and you scramble up from the floor, not saying a word because the humiliation is overwhelming. Your breast has been exposed all this time, likely since the scuffle with the man, and Yoongi didnât mention it until now? You rush back to the bedroom, pushing away thoughts of Yoongi seeing you half-naked and what he might do with the body in his living room.
In the bedroom, you easily locate the in-suite bathroom at the end; it boasts a large bathtub, a sleek shower, a toilet, and a spacious sink, all in matte black with subtle white accents, strikingly minimalistic. Approaching the bathtub, you turn on the water, feeling its warmth soothe your battered hand. Itâs a strange sensation, one you havenât felt in what seems like an eternity, and a rush of anticipation flutters in your chest at the prospect of a proper shower. As the tub fills, you shed your clothes, discarding the nightgown into the garbageâitâs beyond salvaging. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, what meets your eyes is a stranger, not the person you once were but a mere shell. Your skin is streaked with grime, your face swollen, especially beneath your eyes, and your hair wild and unruly.
Finally, the tub fills to the brim, and you shut off the stream, testing the temperature with your handâitâs perfect, pleasantly hot, promising a thorough cleanse. Eagerly, you step into the water, noting the array of shower bottles within reach. You grab one, twisting off the cap to release a refreshing minty scent that envelops you. The shampoo and conditioner bear the same invigorating fragrance. Yoongi must have a thing for mint, you think to yourself with a faint smile, grateful for this small comfort after enduring the trials of the past three weeks.Â
The notion that so much time has passed feels surreal, almost impossible to grasp.
You let the warm water envelop and soothe your weary body, a brief respite from the horrors that haunt youâbefore the bombings, before this relentless war. The shower gel lathers as you wash away the grime, shampooing your hair with a sense of renewal. For a fleeting moment, the sensation of cleansing almost allows you to forget the devastation that brought you here.Â
But guilt grips you tightly, a suffocating embrace. You feel the weight of being alive when your friends are gone, their lives snuffed out mercilessly. The simple joy of a bath, forever denied to them, brings tears to your eyes, mingling with the water surrounding you.Â
You canât stand to stay in the tub any longer, despite not feeling physically clean. Quiet sobs escape your lips as you stand, chest tight with sorrow for what has been taken from you, and for what you can never reclaim.
Hastily, you snatch a gray towel, wrapping it around your shivering frame as tears trace silent paths down your cheeks in the mirrorâs reflection. The ache for your lost friends deepens with each droplet that falls. Drying off with hurried strokes, the plush towel offers some comfort against your skin. You manage to towel-dry your hair as best as you can, seeking normalcy in the routine.
Then, a glimmer catches your eyeâa toothbrush. The realization hits hard: you havenât brushed your teeth in three weeks. Your gaze darts around the bathroom, finding only one brush. Is it gross to use someone elseâs? Disgusting, maybe? You search the cabinets in vain for a spare, but finding none, you convince yourself itâs okay. Youâll sanitize it thoroughly, make it right. With meticulous care, you rinse the toothbrush under the stream, scrubbing it clean before applying toothpaste.Â
The brush feels foreign in your mouth, yet it scrubs away the layers of neglect, refreshing your senses in a way you hadnât realized you craved.
When you finish, you step out into the bedroom, scanning Yoongiâs dresser for any clothing that might fit. Not expecting to find undergarments, you ponder going without or resorting to his if necessary. Pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants, you cover your legs before grabbing a black t-shirt and slipping it over your head. Spotting a pair of cozy socks nearby, you hastily put them on and make your way into the living room, the unfamiliar garments a stark reminder of the upheaval your life has become.
You step into the living room, confronted by an unsettling contrast of cleanliness and calm amidst the recent violence. Itâs as if the room has been meticulously scrubbed of any trace of the fatal encounter that unfolded mere moments ago. You canât help but question whether Yoongi is unnervingly efficient at erasing the aftermath of death or if youâve lost track of time while in the bath, leaving you to wonder what else might have transpired in your absence.
You spot a door tucked away in the dimly lit living room, its handle cold to the touch. Slowly, you push it open, and a shiver snakes down your spine at the grim sight that greets you. âAre those... bodies?â you choke out, a mix of revulsion and horror tightening your throat as you gaze upon the macabre pile in the corner of the yard. Yoongi turns around, his expression unreadable, having added the latest stranger to what appears to be a makeshift graveyard of those heâs encountered before you.
âYeah?â he shrugs nonchalantly, as if itâs inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
âHow many people have you killed?â you demand, hands on your hips, trying to steady your nerves.
He pauses, the silence stretching between you, each moment heightening the weight of his answer. âFive,â he finally admits, his voice carrying the weight of each life taken in this unforgiving world.
âFive?! Thatâs a lotâ five too many,â you spit out in disbelief, the weight of his confession sinking into your bones. You canât stand to dwell on it any longer. Death surrounds you like a shroud, and youâve seen enough to last a lifetime. Turning away, you hear Yoongiâs footsteps approach from behind, each step a reminder of the grim reality you now face.
âLike I told you before, it was me or them. I was only defending myself and my home,â he shrugs nonchalantly, pushing the door open as you follow him into the living room. He settles onto the couch, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the pristine room that belies the violence it has witnessed.
âDid you have a nice shower? You smell nice,â he smiles warmly, pulling a blanket over his legs.
You gape at himâhow can he be so calm? He just killed a man, and now he acts like itâs no big deal, no remorse, no hint of the violence that just transpired.
âI smell like you, and yes, your tub is very nice. Your clothes too. Thank you,â you reply, sitting down on the couch, keeping a deliberate distance between you. After what youâve witnessed, it feels safer that way.
âYou really held your own back there, with the guy. It was kinda hot,â he says, his tone as casual as discussing the weather or deciding what to eat.
Your mouth hangs open. Is this guy serious?Â
âSomethingâs seriously wrong with you if you find that hot. Please donât tell me youâre aroused or something. Iâm not touching you or helping you with your bonerâI barely know you,â you say, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest.
He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that reverberates through the room, a stark contrast to the desolation outside. You gaze at him, stunned by the unexpected display of humor.Â
âIâm not aroused and if I did have a boner, I could take care of it myself, donât you worry. I just respect women who can fend for themselves,â he says with a smile, settling deeper into the worn cushions of the couch.
âWell, I know self-defense. My dad drilled it into me as a kid and teenager. Have you seen how messed up the world is? Even before this war or whatever it is, men were always preying on women or men, lurking in shadows, stalking, abducting themâdoing who knows what. I had to learn to protect myself,â you explain, watching him nod in understanding, his eyes reflecting a grim acknowledgment of the worldâs harsh realities.
âThatâs good. Oh, I forgot to mention, I left your backpack next to the couchâby the way, you look good in my clothes,â he grins, rising from the couch and moving over to the kitchen.
âWant some dinner? Iâve got leftovers we can reheat,â he mumbles from the kitchen. You nod silently, your mind elsewhere as you walk over to your backpack. You hardly remember what kind of stuff you grabbed from homeâhopefully clothes, maybe some underwear would be nice. Digging through it, you find only two pairs of leggings, three shirts, and a bra. Well, it seems like unlucky is just your color.
Doesnât matter, you can go without panties. It might be a problem when your period comes, but thatâs a worry for another day.
You hear a beep from the kitchen and join Yoongi there. Whatever heâs reheated is ready, and you take a seat at the round table positioned between the kitchen and the living room. Yoongi retrieves cold water from the fridge.
âSo, youâre not a prepper, but youâve stockpiled enough to survive indefinitely. Why?â you inquire between cautious bites, mindful of not agitating your stomach.
âDidnât you listen to the government? They told us to prepare for anything, just in case. And I prefer to be ready. Call me a prepper if you want,â he shrugs, spearing his food with his fork.
âI noticed all your shampoo in the bathroom. What else have you stocked up on?â you ask, genuinely curious. You hadnât prepared for any of this, refusing to believe something like a war could happen in your country.
âIâve got spare clothes, solar-powered batteries, extra fuel for the truck, a backup generator for power outages, and even a well in the backyard in case the water supply is cut,â he lists with a chuckle. But your eyes widen almost to the point of popping out of their sockets; youâve never encountered anyone so thoroughly prepared.
âWhatâs your deal then? You live out here by yourself in the middle of nowhere?â you choke out as you take a sip of your water.
âYeah, I donât like people,â he says with another shrug, and you almost spit out your water. Oh god, heâs probably one of those eccentric types.
âLet me rephrase that; I just prefer my own company,â he explains, his voice steady but with a hint of guardedness.
âWell, what am I doing here then?â you chuckle with a smile, though you feel some insecurities seep into your blood.
âYou wouldnât last another day out there. And itâs not that I donât enjoy company. Maybe we can help each other out, stay alive together?â he shrugs again, and you begin to wonder if he can do anything else but shrug.
âLike make life more bearable together?â you ask, and he nods.
âYeah. Just keep each other company. It is pretty lonely out here,â he sighs, carrying his plate back to the sink to clean and put in the dishwasher.
âWe can do that,â you say, yawning and stretching your body, feeling the tiredness wash over you. You wish for a good nightâs sleep, something you havenât had in weeks.
âSleepy?â he chuckles, flashing a pearly set of teeth and pink gums.
âYeah. Honestly, I havenât had proper sleep since the bombings,â you yawn again as Yoongi takes your plate and cleans it too.
âThen maybe we should go to bed?â he suggests, clearing the table.
âYeah, if you can just show me to the guest room, that would be nice,â you yawn again, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down.
Yoongi burst into laughter again, his voice echoing through the desolate walls. âGuest room? Y/N, thereâs only one bedroom. Youâre bunking with me unless you prefer the icy embrace of the couch.â
Your eyes widen, reluctance shadowing your thoughts as the idea of sleeping in the cold chills you. Yet, the notion of sharing a bed with him unsettles you; he remains a stranger, and despite his seemingly gentle demeanor, your instincts keep you on edge. You sigh, resigned to the exhaustion that weighs heavily on you. âSharing a bed will have to do,â you mutter, your voice tinged with apprehension and weariness.
You both walk together to his bedroom, the air thick with a strange tension that makes your heart pound erratically in your chest. Itâs not the first time youâve shared a bed with a man without any sexual connotation, yet thereâs an odd intimacy in this moment that unsettles you. You forego any further preparation, having already showered and brushed your teeth â though you remember something.Â
âI used your toothbrush earlier, I hope thatâs okay,â you mention tentatively, eyeing the bed, its sheets faintly stained with your blood. They definitely need changing. âDo you have clean sheets?â you ask, turning towards the bathroom where Yoongi directs you to the cabinet with fresh linens and mentions he has a spare toothbrush.
You strip the stained sheets off and swiftly tuck in fresh ones, craving the comfort of a proper sleep. The thought of lying in clean bedding is a rare luxury now. Thereâs just one duvet, though, and you wonder if sharing it will be a challenge. Shedding the sweatpants, you opt for the black shirt, its length offering modesty. As you settle into the bed, pulling the covers snugly up to your chin, you relish the cocoon of warmth, a brief respite from the harsh reality outside.
Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, his chest bare and marked by scars on his shoulder, wearing plain black boxers. You gulp involuntarily. Damn it, you shouldnât be ogling him like that, but your cheeks burn nonetheless.
He slides into bed beside you but maintains a respectful distance under the covers, leaving a gap that allows a chilling draft to sneak beneath the duvet, making you shiver involuntarily.
âCold?â he asks, his voice devoid of the usual teasing tone that has marked the day. Instead, it carries a hint of genuine concern, almost comforting.
âYeah, but I donât want to be a burden,â you sigh, shifting to feel the warmth against your front, trying to ignore the chill creeping up your back.
âWe can huddle closer for warmth,â he suggests, and you ponder it briefly, realizing it might help you sleep better anyway.
âOkay,â you agree, and moments later, Yoongi edges nearer, his chest pressing against your back. Instantly, his warmth envelops you, quelling the shivers that had plagued you.
You drift into sleep soon after. Yoongi maintains his distance, his chest against your back serving as a reassuring anchor, his hands remaining still as he promised. Finally, the respite from constant danger allows you to embrace a much-needed slumber.
Youâre drenched in sweat, heart pounding against your chest, breaths coming fast and shallow as you gasp, âDonât leave me, Yuri! Please, Hana, donât go. Please donât die!â You twist and turn, tears streaming down your face, overwhelmed by fear and sorrow. Your eyes refuse to open, exhaustion and dizziness enveloping you, yet vivid images flash before your mindâs eye, forcing a scream from your throat.
A pair of strong hands grips your arms, shaking you gently, and you register a voice calling out urgently, âY/N, wake up. Itâs just a nightmare. Youâre safe.âÂ
Oh, itâs Yoongi.Â
Right, youâre in Yoongiâs bed.
A stranger you met only hours ago.Â
Despite his reassurances, your body refuses to comply, shaking uncontrollably as the remnants of the nightmare cling to your senses.
âCan I hold you? Maybe itâll help calm you down,â he suggests softly. Even though you canât muster the strength to open your eyes, his voice anchors you.Â
âPlease,â you sob, and he turns you gently, your back against his chest, enveloping you in his arms. His soothing shushes echo, reminiscent of comforting a restless childâsurprisingly effective.Â
Gradually, your racing heart steadies, the tremors subside, and your breathing finds a steady rhythm.
You open your eyes to darkness enveloping the room. âI watched my friends die. Their faces haunt me almost every night,â you sob, burying yourself deeper into his embrace. Forget the fact that heâs practically a stranger; his comforting presence and the safety of his arms offer solace youâve longed for. After endless days of running, hyper-aware and on edge, it feels strangely liberating to allow yourself this moment of vulnerability. Youâre still strong, but right now, in his arms, itâs okay to seek refuge.
You feel his hand on your head, gently stroking your hair. âItâs okay. It will get better with time,â he reassures you.
Sniffling, you surrender to exhaustion, finding solace in his arms once more. Despite your initial reservations and the dayâs unsettling events, you feel an unexpected sense of safety with him. Weariness overtakes your caution, and you drift into a deep sleep, cradled by Yoongiâs reassuring presence throughout the night.
When you wake, a sticky, uncomfortable wetness between your thighs jolts you into full consciousness. You sit up and glance at Yoongi, still asleep beside you, his long hair tousled and face serene, lips slightly parted with steady breaths. Dread fills your gut as you peel back the covers. The sight of blood staining the white sheets freezes your breath, a scream clawing its way out of your throat, piercing the quiet of the room.
Yoongi bolts upright, momentarily disoriented, his eyes darting around the room for danger. His gaze falls on the crimson-stained sheets and your trembling form. Panic flashes across his face as he instinctively reaches for you.Â
âAre you hurt?â he asks, his voice low and raspy with sleep, cutting through the air like a blade.
You force yourself to calm down, the panic subsiding as you realize the source of the blood. âNo, itâs just my period,â you pant, trying to steady your breath and racing heart. It hits you with a mix of relief and embarrassmentâover a month since your last one, but the sight of the stained sheets fills you with shame.
Yoongiâs tension eases, his shoulders relaxing. âOh,â he says, understanding dawning in his eyes. Thereâs no danger, just the harsh reality of life. He gives you a comforting look, a rare softness in his hardened gaze.
âIâm sorry,â you ramble, sliding off the bed, mortified by the mess. âI didnât wear underwear because my panties were ruined, and I didnât want to trouble you for your boxers. I donât even have pads or tampons.â Your words tumble out in a rush, the embarrassment amplifying every second.
Yoongi sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. âRelax, itâs okay,â he says, his voice steady and reassuring. âYou can take some of my boxers. Iâm not stocked up on pads or tampons, but you can just use cloth that we wash.âÂ
If you werenât in a slight panic, maybe youâd notice how good he looks with bed hair and his bare torso, but instead, you rush out to the bathroom, still blushing from the unexpected intimacy and the rawness of the situation.
Yoongi joins you, a pair of his boxers in hand, as you futilely try to dry yourself with toilet paper. Itâs no use.
âYou should take a bath and wash off the blood,â he says, placing the boxers on the countertop. âIâll take care of the bed.â
You nod, desperate to rid yourself of the blood, and without a second thought, you grab the edges of the black t-shirt you borrowed and pull it over your head, not caring that Yoongi is still there, probably watching you. His presence feels oddly comforting in this grim reality.Â
âNice ass,â he smirks as you step into the shower. You canât believe he finds you attractive in this stateâblood running down your thighs. How can you really look appealing like that?Â
Heâs either weird or into some strange shit.
You donât reply, just shut the curtain fast, turning the showerhead on and letting the warm water caress your skin. The blood washes away, swirling down the drain as you clean yourself thoroughly. Damn, you really hate your period. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and dry off. You spot some ripped cloth Yoongi left for you to use as makeshift pads.Â
Yoongi is incredibly kind, you realize, and it brings a rare smile to your lips. You dress with the makeshift pads stuck in his boxers and then walk out, covering your breasts, not wanting to wear the shirt you slept in. The warmth of the shower lingers, but the cold reality of the dystopian world waits just outside the bathroom door.
In the bedroom, Yoongi has replaced the bloodstained sheets with black ones, blending seamlessly with the oppressive gloom outside. As he turns to meet your gaze, you canât help but blush, standing there before him semi-naked.Â
âDo you have a shirt I can borrow again?â you ask, your voice shaky with unsaid emotion and a confusing undercurrent of attraction.
He nods and rummages through his dresser, pulling out another black tee. You canât help but wonder if black clothing is the only thing he owns, as if heâs trying to match the bleakness of the world.
âThank you. Iâll just find my bra in my backpack,â you quip, the words sounding hollow as you step out next to the bed and search through your belongings.
âYou donât have to wear one, you know. Youâre free to do whatever. If youâre more comfortable without one, itâs okay,â Yoongi says, his voice gentle yet firm. His words halt your movements. Heâs right. You donât really want to wear a bra; youâd only wear it because itâs the âproperâ thing to do. But he doesnât seem to care about such trivialities, and comfort sounds far more appealing in this bleak reality.Â
You stop searching for the item and simply pull on the shirt heâs given you, the fabric soft against your skin.Â
As Yoongi gets ready with a shower and fresh clothes, you wander into the kitchen, your stomach growling. The dull ache in your abdomen also reminds you of your period, and you curse under your breath. Pain meds would be nice, but you have no idea where Yoongi keeps them. The thought of asking him feels like a small admission of vulnerability, something youâre not entirely comfortable with yet. But the pain is relentless, and in this world, thereâs no room for stubborn pride.
Yoongi emerges from the bedroom, catching sight of you clutching your stomach. âDo you need painkillers?â he asks, his tone a mix of concern and practicality. He gestures to a cabinet. You nod, biting your lower lip as you move to find the pills, swallowing them with some water.
In the kitchen, you both work in a synchronized silence, preparing a simple meal. The quiet between you isnât awkward; itâs a welcome respite from the chaos outside. As you eat, the distant sound of bombs punctuates the air, a grim reminder of the world beyond these walls.
Afterwards, you settle on the couch, the weight of the day pressing down on you. Yoongi sits beside you, the proximity offering a strange comfort. The silence stretches, filled with the unspoken understanding that, for now, survival is enough. The faint echoes of destruction fade into the background as you allow yourself a rare moment of peace, nestled in the fleeting safety of Yoongiâs makeshift sanctuary.
âDo you think weâre safe here?â you ask, turning to face Yoongi abruptly.
âFor now, I think so,â he replies calmly, his gaze fixed on the flickering light from a nearby candle. The distant cacophony of destruction outside barely registers with him.
âYou have a radio, right? Have you heard whatâs going on?â Your curiosity is tinged with desperation. Three weeks of aimless wandering have left you clueless about the extent of the chaosâwhether itâs confined to your city, your country, or if fleeing abroad could offer safety.
âYeah, I do. It started with our country and the neighboring countries that were bombed, but now itâs escalated into a full-blown nuclear world war,â Yoongi answers, his voice tinged with resignation. âThey say this might be the end of the world as we know it.â
Your throat tightens.Â
The end of the world.Â
Fuck.Â
Itâs a phrase that carries weight beyond comprehension. You fall silent, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Yoongi notices your unease and his hand gently encircles yours, a silent gesture of reassurance amidst the chaos engulfing the world outside.
âI understand youâre scared, and itâs okay. Iâm scared too,â Yoongiâs voice cuts through the dimness, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of something indiscernible. His honesty offers a rare comfort amidst the uncertainty that permeates every corner of your existence. âBut thereâs not much we can do about it, except try to stay alive. Frankly, Iâm happy youâre here. At least we have each other in this shitty world.â
His sincerity touches you in a way that words struggle to express. Despite the looming dread, his presence brings a semblance of solace. âI guess youâre right,â you muse softly, a fleeting smile gracing your lips. The mere thought of not facing this bleak reality alone lifts your spirits more than youâd expected. âIâm also happy to not be alone anymore.â
âCome here,â he invites, arms open, a silent gesture that beckons you to his side. Initially hesitant, you meet his gaze with a questioning stare before relenting, offering a gentle smile as you scoot closer. His arms envelop you, pulling you into a comforting embrace as you rest your head against his shoulder.
In this moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, you allow yourself the luxury of comfort. It doesnât diminish your strength or resilience; itâs simply a reprieve, a respite from the relentless struggle for survival. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, its reassuring cadence grounding you amidst your racing thoughts, reminding you that in this fractured world, even fleeting moments of solace are worth cherishing.
Youâve been grumpy for daysâblame it on your period, though Yoongi has tirelessly tried to ease both your pain and your sullen mood. Heâs taught you the art of baking sourdough bread, introduced you to new games, and even guided you through painting sessions, all while the world around you crumbles bit by bit. Each night, he holds you close, his warmth soothing both your body and your restless thoughts. If you denied feeling a spark between you, youâd be lying. Itâs an unspoken tension that has simmered since you first met, and youâre certain he feels it too, though neither of you acknowledges it or acts upon it.
The reason for your inaction eludes youâis it fear of rejection, uncertainty about what this attraction truly means amidst the chaos, or simply the desperate need for companionship in a desolate world? You wrestle with these thoughts, wondering if your feelings are genuine or born out of circumstance. Perhaps thatâs why youâve held back, because deep down, you want to desire him for who he is, not just because heâs the only person around, and certainly not solely out of physical need.
You realize youâre nearing the end of your period because since yesterday, every little thing Yoongi does seems incredibly arousing. Folding laundry becomes a sensual act as you watch the muscles in his arms move, his focused demeanor igniting a fire within you. Even mundane actions like drinking water capture your attention, the movement of his throat and the bob of his Adamâs apple now irresistible to you. Itâs clear youâve got it bad, and you feel like youâre slowly losing your sanity.
Yet amidst this chaotic world, youâve come to a profound realization: itâs not merely Yoongiâs availability that attracts you, but the essence of who he is.
âDo you want to get drunk?â he asks abruptly, pulling your attention away from your swirling thoughts after dinner. Both of you sit motionless, avoiding the cleanup that beckons. You blink at him, incredulous, but the idea holds a strange allure. The prospect of drowning the worldâs chaos in alcohol for a fleeting moment seems oddly appealing.
âYeah. What do you have?â you inquire, leaning forward across the table, eager to hear his answer.
âOnly the hard stuff,â he replies with a smile, rising to clear both your plates.
You nearly choke on his words, a momentary blur conjured by your horny mind. The double meaning triggers a rush of both embarrassment and arousal, betraying your thoughts once again.
You assist in tidying up, your heart pounding inexplicably loud in your ears. Thereâs a nervous energy tingling through you, a strange excitement, as you settle onto the couch. Yoongi locates two mugs and heads to a well-stocked cabinet filled with an array of hard liquors. The sight leaves you momentarily impressed â the man is prepared for anything.
Returning with a bottle of whiskey, he notices your slight frown, likely recalling your distaste for its taste. Yet, any strong spirit would elicit a similar reaction from you. He sets down the bottle, retreats to the kitchen for ice, then returns to pour the amber liquid into your mugs.
âThank you,â you quip, raising the mug to your lips and taking a cautious sip, grimacing at the harsh taste, eliciting a chuckle from Yoongi. He sips his whisky casually, as if itâs a ritual heâs performed countless times before â which, given his ease, might very well be the case. The amber liquid seems to suit him, and you strive to mimic his nonchalance, the flavor gradually becoming more palatable with each swallow. Eventually, a subtle warmth spreads through your body, a faint buzz that hints at relaxation in this tumultuous world.
He pours more whiskey into your mugs, and you drink, feeling the world blur around you, but Yoongi remains sharply focused in your gaze. His laughter cuts through the haze, accompanied by glimpses of his pearly white teeth and endearing pink gums, as he shares stories of his friends and their reckless escapades.
âThen Jungkook would leave the poor girl hanging,â he chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that brings a smile to your face and colors your cheeks.Â
âBut thatâs so bad,â you manage to reply between sips. Despite being thoroughly drunk by now, you relish Yoongiâs company and the friendship you now share. His presence makes the chaotic world feel momentarily lighter. Youâre grateful heâs as intoxicated as you are, though you suspect he handles his liquor with more finesse.
Your eyelids flutter, cheeks warm as your gaze lingers on Yoongi, captivated by his sweetness and kindness amidst the dystopian chaos.
âWhat?â he chuckles softly, catching your prolonged stare.
âYour lips look really softâŚâ The words slip out, your filter completely gone, the confession hanging between you like an unspoken truth.
âKiss me and find out,â he challenges, a glint of mischief in his eyes. His gaze, deep and compelling, draws you closer until your noses almost touch. With eyes closed, you lean in, meeting his lips in a gentle press. The warmth of his skin against yours, the taste of whiskey on his breath, sparks an unexpected thrill. Your hands find his, fingers intertwining, and a soft moan escapes your lips, lost in the softness and warmth of his kiss.
Your mind swirls, a dizzying mix of alcohol and the intoxicating scent of Yoongi enveloping you. You feel intoxicated by his presence, as if heâs a drug you never want to quit. Kissing him feels like an escape from the harsh reality of the world outside, a brief reprieve where everything is right.
But as you reluctantly pull back for a breath, both of you panting, his eyes are filled with desire and a knowing smirk. Without hesitation, he leans in again, kissing you fiercely. His urgency overwhelms you as he presses you down onto the couch, your hand instinctively gripping his neck, desire pooling in your stomach. You ache for him, craving more than just his touch.
He pulls away with a grunt, his voice rough with desire. âI really want to fuck you. But I want to do it sober.â
You groan softly, the heat of the moment tempered by the clarity of his words. Alcohol fuels your desire now, but you yearn for a clear-headed connection. You nod in agreement, and he pulls you up from the couch, his touch firm and purposeful.
âDoesnât mean we canât enjoy each other in bed in other ways,â he adds suggestively, leading you toward his bedroom. You follow eagerly, a wide smile spreading across your face, anticipation tingling in your veins.
In the bed, little else happens beyond kissing, the alcohol still clouding your senses. You manage to undress each other and slip under the covers; your bodies drawn together by an irresistible pull, seeking solace and warmth. More kisses follow, each one infused with a sense of fleeting bliss and exhaustion. Eventually, Yoongi spoons you as he always does, enveloping you in a cocoon of affection that feels more profound than anything youâve experienced before. Itâs a fleeting moment of respite amidst the chaos of the world crumbling outside.
When you wake, the throbbing pain in your head pulls you back to reality. You groan softly, slowly coming to, feeling Yoongi shifting beside you. His arms are still wrapped around you, in a comforting embrace.
His voice, thick with sleep, breaks the morning silence. âMorning. Do you have a headache too?âÂ
You chuckle softly, nodding as you nuzzle your back into him, his warm, nearly bare bodyâsave for his boxersâshielding his erection. âYeah,â you groan, feeling the fatigue lingering, yet also acutely aware of Yoongiâs touch, his fingertips gently tracing over your bare skin.
âWant to take a shower together? Might help with the headache,â he suggests, his voice still husky with sleep. You nod, both of you slipping out of bed and padding into the bathroom together.
There, you shed your minimal clothingâa shirt of Yoongiâs for you, his boxers for him. Itâs the first time youâre both seeing each other naked, a realization that hangs heavy in the air. For a moment, you simply gaze at each other, skin tingling with anticipation and desire, yet neither of you utter a word. You silently drink in each otherâs presence, wondering if he finds you as appealing as you find him. The way he licks his lips with hunger suggests he does. You study his body: soft yet lean, pale skin a testament to a life spent indoors, away from the harsh realities of this broken world.
His dick appears soft, yet it pulses with undeniable arousal, sending warmth through your skin and stirring a primal desire between your legs. His appearance is captivating, his dark brown pubic hair adding to his allure, compelling you to join him in the shower.
He turns on the water, and as it sprays over both of you, a shared chuckle breaks the tension. âDo you want me to wash you?â he asks, his voice low and thick with need. You nod, craving the touch of his hands on your body.
Yoongi finds some minty soap, lathering it in his hands before placing them on your skin. Instantly, you relax, feeling like putty in his strong hands. His touch is soft yet firm as he moves from your neck down your back, to your ass, and then along your thighs and legs. His hands travel back up to your neck, then, standing behind you, they move to your front. He slowly caresses your breasts, teasing your nipples into stiff peaks, and continues down your stomach, past your crotch, and along the front of your legs. The intimacy and the warmth of his touch make you feel more alive than you have in a long time.
Shivers cascade down your spine, heat flaring not from the water, but from Yoongiâs touch. Your breathing quickens with each passing moment, his low and raspy grunts filling your ears.
Your knees grow weak, and a blissful moan of his name escapes your lips as your head falls back to rest against his collarbone. âDo you like it, babe?â he murmurs, his voice a deep, seductive rumble that sends electric tingles down your spine and a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
Your body quivers, and you bite your lower lip in a futile attempt to contain your desire. Finally, you relent, panting, âYes.â
His pet name for you sends your mind spinning with thoughts of him, intensifying your longing. You gather your courage and turn to face him, your eyes hooded with desire. He licks his lips teasingly, his gaze sweeping over your soapy, naked form with clear appreciation. His hands continue their journey, gliding over your skin, teasing and igniting every nerve.Â
âI want to wash you too,â you pant with a chuckle, grabbing the soap and lathering it in your hands. You place your fingers on his warm, sturdy chest, gliding over his pectorals and teasing his nipples, drawing a soft, whiny chuckle from him. Your hands travel down his stomach, deliberately bypassing his half erect cock, moving instead to his legs and down to his feet. Then, you make your way back up, sliding your hands over his back, down his shoulder blades, to his firm, round bum, which you squeeze with playful delight, before caressing down his thighs.Â
Youâre now sitting, face to face with his erection, and you canât help but stare. To you, cocks have always just been cocks, but his looks almost like a work of art. It grows longer with arousal, and you stutter at the thought that he isnât even fully hard yet. He already looks so long and girthy, and you canât wait to feel him inside you.
You glance up at him, his eyes dark as obsidian, his mouth slightly agape as he watches you. Your hands move to his dick, now free of soap. He releases a needy groan as you wrap your fingers around him, beginning to stroke gently.
He keens at your touch, his back pressing against the shower wall, panting as the warm water sprays over you both. The only sounds are his grunts and the rhythmic patter of water, so you keep going, pleasuring him with your hand, feeling the intoxicating power of his reaction to you.
âFucking hell, seeing you like that on your knees⌠youâre making me weak,â he pants, his black hair plastered to his head, his face flushed with a deep blush.
You smile, relishing the effect you have on him, and it spurs you to stroke him faster. In a surprising move, you wrap your mouth around his cock. He grunts in pleasure, relishing the sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him.
You breathe through your nose, setting a slow, deliberate pace. His hands find purchase in your wet hair, fingers gripping as his body trembles with each movement of your lips and tongue.
He pants and grunts your name, the sound echoing in the steamy shower, until he gently pulls you off. âItâs really good. But I donât want to come yet.â His voice is ragged, filled with both desire and restraint.
You rise to your feet with a smile, capturing his lips in a deep, fervent kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. Your hands snake around his frame, pressing your body tightly against his. His cock presses against you, igniting a wildfire of need within you. Pulling back, you gaze into his eyes, the intensity of your desire mirrored in his dark, lust-filled gaze.
âLet me finish washing you up, and then we can continue this in bed,â he suggests with a teasing smile. You nod, shivering as his hands glide over your body, washing away the soap with gentle, deliberate touches.
Just as youâre about to step out of the shower, he grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks. âI havenât washed your hair yet,â he murmurs, his voice low and intimate.
Your stomach does a somersault, a horde of butterflies threatening to escape. No one has ever done this for you. No one. He steals your breath away with how soft and caring he is, while he still maintains his roughness.Â
You walk back to him, and heâs already ready with shampoo in his hand, lathering the liquid on your scalp. You moan in delight at its minty scent filling your nose, feeling and loving the drag of his fingers on your scalp, giving you a thorough clean. Then he washes the soap away and does the same with the conditioner focusing on the ends of your hair. When heâs done, you turn around, wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him.Â
Itâs wild to think that at first you were put off by his strong behaviorâthough he did point a rifle at your head, and killed a man in front of youâbut this, this is truly something special you could never have imagined. Never had you thought youâd fall for this rugged, rough, but also very sweet and soft man.
You donât say anything, but gesture for him to let you wash his hair too. You find the shampoo and gently give him a scalp massage, pulling moans of your name from his lips. You squirt a bit of conditioner into your hands and lather the ends of his hair. He closes his eyes while you work, and, damn, he looks so handsome, so serene like this.
You give him a chaste kiss. âIâm done.â
He chuckles, and you each do a final rinse, making sure no soapy residue is left. Then you both step out of the shower and grab towels to dry off. Playfulness bubbles between you, even though youâre both aroused, the tension almost tangible in the steamy bathroom.
âDo you have a condom? Iâm not on the pill anymore, and I didnât make it to my appointment to get an IUD inserted,â you ask, already debating whether you want to risk it. With no birth control, you run the risk of getting pregnant, and you donât really want that, but you also really want to fuck him.
âI have condoms,â he says, opening a cabinet and pulling out a large box.
âHoly shit, 500 condoms! What are you going to do with those?â you ask, flabbergasted and laughing at the absurdity. Youâve never seen a man with so many condoms. You wonder if he has a lot of sex or what his deal is. Did he plan this?
âBefore you ask, because I can already see those wheels inside your brain spinning, it was a good deal, and it was a long time ago, but theyâre not expired yet,â he chuckles, the sound low and deep, shrugging slightly as he scratches his still wet hair.
You laugh, taking the box from his hands and walking naked into his bedroom. The absurdity of the situation doesnât dampen your desire; if anything, it heightens it, making the moment feel even more surreal and intense. The world outside might be falling apart, but in this room, you both find a strange and intoxicating solace.
âDo you fuck a lot of women, Yoongi?â you ask teasingly, holding the box in your grasp.
âI havenât had sex in over a year, so no,â he chuckles, though his tone darkens slightly.
âSo what are you going to do with all these then?â you ask, grabbing a foil packet and watching as a few more tumble out.
âHopefully fuck you many times,â he teases with a grunt, standing before you at the edge of the bed. âWould you like that? Fuck like rabbits until the world falls apart?â
Your heart races at his words, the raw intensity of his desire matching your own.Â
For a moment, you had completely forgotten the state of the world, but with him, it hardly matters. âFuck yeah. Take me on the bed, then fuck me in the shower, the kitchen, the couch, the floorâI donât care, just get inside me,â you rasp, sitting down on the bed.
He pushes you down, and you giggle as he hovers over you. You shimmy further up the bed, and now heâs eye level with your exposed pussy. He licks his lips teasingly, his gaze dark and hungry. âCan I taste you?â he asks, his voice a sultry whisper.
You giggle, spreading your legs wider to make space for him. âYes, please,â you breathe, your voice catching. You donât care how needy you sound; the anticipation electrifies your skin, your body already trembling with desire.
One of his hands grips your thigh, and you let out an airy moan as he squeezes, drawing closer. âYou look so pretty,â he murmurs, his voice a sultry promise. âCanât wait to taste you.â
The world outside fades away, replaced by the intensity of his gaze and the heat of his breath on your skin. As he leans in, your senses ignite, every nerve ending alight with a mixture of need and surrender.
He takes a moment to savor your pulsating pussy, still damp from the shower, small water droplets glistening on your skin. With both hands, he gently parts your folds, groaning at the sight of your exposed hole. With eager anticipation, he dives down, his lips latching directly onto your sensitive clit, making you grab the sheets in pure ecstasy. His tongue traces a path to oblivion, and for that moment, youâre consumed by him, and him alone.
His tongue is a perfect blend of warmth, softness, and roughness, unforgiving in the way it laps and sucks at your clit, sure to bring you maximum pleasure in a short amount of time. Itâs insane how skilled he is with his mouth, and you arch into his expert touch, your fingers tangling in his long black locks instead of the sheets. The world outside is forgotten, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of his tongue and the undeniable connection between you.
âYoongi... itâs so good,â you moan, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. âFingers, please.â
You can feel him smirk against your folds, his mouth never leaving your clit as a finger teases your entrance. Slowly, he slides the first digit inside you, and you let out a needy moan, relishing the small stretch as he works you open.
âLike this?â he asks, momentarily pulling away to flash you a teasing grin, fully aware of the power he holds over you and how much heâs affecting you with his skilled tongue and probing finger. The anticipation and his relentless teasing send waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and craving more.
You bite your lip and nod, your body trembling as he begins to finger you with increasing vigor. It doesnât take long before he adds a second finger, the slight stretch sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your fingers clench in his hair, your legs closing around his head as you edge closer to your orgasm.
âIâm gonna come,â you pant, tugging at his hair, the desperation in your voice driving him to suck harder on your clit and thrust his fingers faster. The intense rhythm of his movements sends you spiraling, each stroke and flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge.
Sucking noises fill the room, amplifying your sense of being utterly consumed by bliss. Your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears as you gasp and moan his name, the sound raw and desperate. The coil inside you finally snaps, and you clench around his fingers, your release surging through you like a tidal wave.
âYoongiâŚ,â you moan, your body vibrating with intense pleasure, tingles cascading over your skin. Your clit throbs with oversensitivity under the relentless ministrations of his tongue. He pulls away, smirking at you with lips glistening with your essence, the early morning sun filtering through the curtains and catching on the wet sheen.
In your bliss, you barely register that itâs the first time youâve seen sunlight in weeks. The world outside may be changing, but in this moment, nothing else matters but Yoongi and the ecstasy heâs brought you.
"You taste so good. Are you ready for my cock, babe?" he smirks, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, savoring your essence.
âYes, please, fuck me now. I want you and your dick,â you pant, your voice laced with need. Youâve been waiting for this moment for days, finally free from your period. Not that it would have stopped you, but youâve stained the poor guyâs sheets enough already.
Yoongi moves closer, tearing open the foil packet and pulling out a condom. He puts it on with practiced ease, then pushes your legs further apart, kneeling in front of you. He spits on his cock, teasing it with his hand, and the sight sends a shiver down your spine. Heâs finally going to enter you, filling you completely, and the anticipation is almost unbearable.
âReady?â he asks, his voice low and filled with desire. You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation.
âYouâre so beautiful, do you know that?â he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. One of his hands squeezes your thigh, and you feel the head of his cock teasing your waiting entrance.
No one has ever called you beautiful before, and youâre momentarily speechless. Instead, you give him a shy smile, your face heating with a blush.
Slowly, he begins to enter you, and you moan at the delicious stretch as he pushes in deeper. Yoongi grunts, âShit. Youâre so tight!â The comment makes you chuckle, inadvertently tightening your walls around him.
âFuck. Donât do that yet. Iâm seriously gonna come any minute if you clench like that.â You stop laughing, trying to steady yourself, focusing on relaxing your inner muscles to give him space.
Finally, he bottoms out, fully sheathed inside you. âDamn. Youâre really squeezing my dick. Iâd forgotten what this feels like,â he gasps, his voice filled with pleasure and awe.
âHopefully itâs good?â you ask breathlessly, your arms reaching to hold your thighs and press them down to your stomach, giving him even deeper access.
âFuck, yeah. Itâs amazing. Youâre amazing,â he groans, smiling as he begins to pull out only to thrust back inside you, eliciting a moan of pure pleasure from your lips.
âYou too, Yoongi, youâre amazing,â you murmur, biting your lip, reveling in the sensation of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your pussy with each powerful movement.
He leans down, your legs falling to the side, and captures your lips in a heated kiss while continuing to thrust into you. Your tongues dance together, and you taste yourself on his lips. He groans into your mouth, the sound driving your lust higher, and you teasingly bite his lip.Â
He kisses you again, then pulls away to trail kisses down your throat, over your collarbones. The intimacy of the moment strikes you, making you realize how deeply connected you feel with him. Youâre consumed by this, by whatever it is that you and Yoongi have right now, and it feels overwhelmingly perfect.
His lips trace a path down to your breasts, latching onto a nipple and teasing it stiff with expert flicks of his tongue. He sucks hard while his other hand finds your other nipple, rolling and tugging it between his fingers. You writhe beneath him, moaning uncontrollably as waves of pleasure surge through you. Your hands lie flat beside you, completely surrendered to his touch.
âFuckâYoongi! Do you⌠do you want me to ride you?â you gasp, your voice choked with pleasure.
âYou want to?â he asks, his mouth leaving your breast to meet your gaze, eyes dark with desire.
âYes, otherwise I wouldnât ask,â you chuckle breathlessly, pushing him away gently. He gives you his hand, helping you up from the bed. He lies down, his cock hard and glistening with your juices, ready for you. You crawl over to him and straddle him with vigor, your stomach burning with lust. Grabbing his cock, you guide it to your entrance and then slowly sink down, letting him fill you completely.Â
âAh, fuck. Itâs so good!â you moan, your body shuddering with pleasure as you begin to ride him, each movement bringing you closer to ecstasy.
When you look down, his eyes shine with awe and raw arousal, his hands gripping your hips as you begin to set a steady pace.Â
âFuck, you look so good like this,â he rasps, your name escaping his lips in a passionate grunt.
âI always look good,â you chuckle, feeling bold and safe in his arms, reveling in the rare self-praise.
âShit. Confidence looks sexy on you,â he moans, his hands sliding from your hips up to your breasts, fondling them with a firm, appreciative touch.
You smile back, your thighs working overtime to bounce on him, hands braced against his chest. You lean down to kiss him, pulling away just enough to whisper, âYoongi, Iâm close again. Are you close too?â
He grunts, his cock twitching inside you, a clear sign of his impending release. âYeah, Iâm close. Iâm surprised Iâve lasted this long.â
âWill you please touch my clit?â you ask, your eyes hooded with lust. His fingers land on your clit, working circles, sending electric pulses through your still-sensitive nerves.Â
âShit,â you moan, followed by his name, as your body clenches and you release fluid around his cock, stopping your movements and panting for air.
âYou did so good. Let me take over now, âkay?â he asks, biting his lip. You nod, feeling blissfully tired. His hands travel back to your hips, gripping you firmly as he begins to thrust up into you. His pace is fast and hard, hitting your already sensitive g-spot, making you cry out in both pain and pleasure, your walls fluttering around him.
âFuck,â is all he says as he comes into the condom, filling it with his warm release. You scream his name and shake, slumping down onto his chest.
âAre you okay?â he asks, gently nudging your cheek, feeling the tears there and brushing them away.
Out of breath, you manage to say, âYeah. I think I came again.â
He chuckles, stroking your hair as he hugs you close. You linger in the moment, savoring the intimacyâhim still inside you, albeit softening. Itâs blissful. The safety he provides, his minty scent, the warmth of his embrace. You feel cherished and secure in his arms, wishing you could stay like this forever.
âDamn. I feel so tired now, but at least I donât have a headache anymore,â you chuckle, your head resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart gradually syncing with yours.
âMe too,â he laughs, the sound resonating through his chest, filling you with warmth.
âMaybe we should just stay like this until you get hard again, and we can go for another round,â you suggest, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his warm skin.
âYouâd like that, huh?â he teases, his hands threading through your hair.
âYeah,â you affirm, feeling overwhelmed by his presence yet craving more of it.
Safe to say, you remain nestled together, igniting another round and many more throughout the day. Youâre amazed at Yoongiâs stamina, though he did mention something about his balls aching, so as night falls, you settle into a comfortable embrace in bed.Â
In the days that follow, you fuck on every imaginable surface, putting those 500 condoms to good use.
One day, the sun that had graced your windows for weeks disappears, replaced by an eerie gray sky again. The familiar sound of something flying in the air makes you shiver and crouch down in fear.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â Yoongi asks, his face etched with concern. The fear in your eyes tells him somethingâs terribly wrong.
âBombs,â you mutter. As the words leave your lips, the first explosion shatters the ground nearby. You scream, terror coursing through you. Not this again. You thought youâd grown used to it, the bombings having become sporadic and distant. But now, theyâre hitting too close to home.
Yoongi rushes to the window and peers outside, his expression tense. âItâs close. We canât stay here. We need to leave,â he says, urgency lacing his voice.
Your eyes widen in fear and panic. âWhat do you mean? Leave?â
âYeah. Itâs not safe to stay here anymore. We can take the truck, try and stay alive. Itâs better than staying here and dying,â he says, already moving about, pulling out pre-packed bags.
âYou have âto goâ bags ready?â you ask, staring at him in disbelief.
âYeah. I didnât think Iâd have time to pack anything in a rush,â he explains, four bags already laying at your feet. âThereâs food, water, clothes, and a medical kit,â he says, then walks up to you, looking you in the eyes. âItâs going to be alright, okay? Youâre safe with me.â
You gulp and nod, the sound of another explosion reverberates through the walls, shaking the ground beneath you, fear propelling you into action. Grabbing two of the bags, you follow Yoongi outside to the truck.
The world outside looks bleak. Thick clouds of smoke and ash cover the horizon, turning everything gray. Trees are falling, and in the distance, buildings blaze with fire. The scene mirrors the devastation of your hometownâbombed, ruined, and left you with nowhere to go. Now, you wonder, where will you go?
Your ears ring, and your head spins. Your breaths come quick and shallow as the acrid smell of fire, death, and destruction fills the air. Youâre tired of it, longing for the world you once knew. But that world is gone, replaced by this new reality of chaos.Â
You follow him to the truck, glancing at Yoongi. Despite everything, you find solace in his presence. This new life may be filled with death and destruction, but with Yoongi by your side, you know you have a fighting chance.
âHurry. We need to grab more supplies from the shed,â Yoongi urges, pulling you along after youâve tossed the bags into the truck.
Inside the shed, Yoongi opens a large box, revealing an arsenal of firearms stashed from top to bottom. Your mouth falls open in disbelief. âYou have more than just one rifle?â
He chuckles, the sound tense against the backdrop of imminent danger. His movements are swift and precise. âYeah. Like you guessed, I was prepared for this.â
You gulp, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Youâve never met anyone like Yoongiâsomeone so prepared for the worst, for the end of the world. Someone ready to fight for his life, and now, for yours too.Â
He hands you something, and when you look down, you realize itâs a knife, sheathed in worn leather. âWhy are you giving me this?â
âTo defend yourself. You said you could handle yourself, so use this,â he replies, his shoulders shrugging as he stuffs a variety of guns into a backpack, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as if itâs just another day in the office.
âYeahâ with my bare hands. Iâve never used a knife before, let alone a gun,â you stammer, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. The world has become so twisted that now you need to carry a weapon just to stay alive.
âI donât care. Iâll do my best to protect you, but if something happens, you need to be able to protect yourself,â he says, his voice firm but his eyes soft. He hands you a leather harness, and you look at him with wide, questioning eyes.
âPut this on, so you can holster a gun and the knife,â he says, motioning for you to turn around as he helps you secure the leather harness.
âYou make it sound like itâs zombies out there,â you gulp, the gravity of the situation hitting you hard. Everything is escalating again, and you know you need to leaveâfast.
âBabe, it might as well be zombies. Itâs either them or us.â
You freeze for a momentâthose words, âthem or usâ send a chill down your spine. Even though it makes you feel sick, you know heâs right. If you want to survive, you might have to make some very uncomfortable decisions. You clench your hands, fastening the leather harness around your shoulder, then holster the knife and the small gun Yoongi has given you. You pray you never have to use it, but if it comes down to it, you know it will always be you and Yoongi before anyone else.
Yoongi hurriedly grabs more supplies from the box, stuffing them into his backpack and securing them to the belt he now wears. You notice an additional knife, a smaller multi-tool, flashlights, batteries, and finally, he hauls canisters of fuel into the truckâs bed.
âCome on, letâs get going,â he urges, darting around the vehicle. You yank open the passenger door, heart pounding, and jump in. Yoongi climbs in, turns the key in the ignition, and the truck roars to life.
As Yoongi reverses out of the driveway, a low-flying plane thunders overhead. You glance out the window just in time to see a bomb drop. The next moment, your ears ring painfully as your home for the past months disintegrates in a fiery explosion. Plywood, drywall, banisters, and concrete fly through the air, and you scream, tears streaming down your face.
Yoongi remains unfazed, his focus unbroken as he speeds down the main road, leaving the obliterated remains of the house behind.
From the window, you watch in horror as the house disintegrates, consumed by smoldering flames. The structure collapses, reduced to rubble in seconds. Gulping, you feel your body tense and your mind race, barely processing the close call.
âTry to take deep breaths,â Yoongi advises, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. You hadnât even noticed you were on the verge of hyperventilating. Placing a trembling hand on your chest, you focus on its rise and fallâproof that youâre still alive. Everything will be fine once you escape this nightmare, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine. But no amount of positive thinking can mask the grim and harsh reality. Tears blur your vision as you cry, the enormity of your new world crashing down around you.
âHey, itâs okay,â Yoongi says, his hand landing on yours, grounding you. It always does. Youâve only known Yoongi for a few monthsâmaybe half a yearâbut time has become a strange, elastic concept since the bombings started. Despite the short duration, youâve grown dependent on him, on the safety he provides. The thought of losing him, like you lost your friends, terrifies you.
âI just hope we make it out,â you choke out between sobs, your fists clenching and unclenching. You know you need to calm down; fear wonât help you now. But the prickling sensation of dread crawling under your skin feels all too real, a constant reminder of the uncertain future and the precariousness of your life.
His grip tightens, offering a small but significant comfort. âWe will,â he assures you, his voice steady despite the chaos. âI promise.â
The landscape outside the truck is almost unrecognizable. The once lush green trees and bushes are now gone, replaced by gray ashes and fire. Everything is barren, dying.Â
Bombs continue to drop around you, each explosion sending a shiver down your spine. A lump forms in your throat, but youâre thankful for the truckâs metal shell that muffles the sounds of chaos. You donât have to hear the people dying, unlike back in the city where the screams still haunt your nightmares.
The road is bumpy, marred by craters and debris, a cruel reminder of the unrelenting reality of your new life. Each jolt and rattle of the truck underscores the harshness of this world, a stark contrast to the life you once knew.
âIf anybody comes up to us, shoot first and ask questions later. Got it?â Yoongiâs voice is stern, his grip on the steering wheel like a vice. You gulp and turn your head towards him. âWhat?â you ask in disbelief. You donât want to shoot anyone. Your hand finds the gun holstered in your harness. You really donât want to.
âYou donât know what people want. They might want to kill you. Just shoot them in the leg so they canât walk,â he explains, his focus sharp on navigating the wreckage of the desolate road. The once-bustling streets are eerily empty, a haunting silence hanging in the air.
You think about his words for a moment, trying to rationalize. Shooting someone in the leg isnât as bad as killing them, right? Itâs a compromise you can live with, or so you hope.
âI really hate this,â you groan, your tears subsiding. Your heart still races, but you force yourself to focus on Yoongi, his voice, and the urgency of getting the hell out of this town. The reality of your situation presses down on you, heavy and suffocating, but you know you have to keep moving forward.
âWhere are we going?â you ask, changing the subject. You donât want to think about killing someone, or shooting them. Better think about something else.
âOne of my friendsâ places, maybe we can stay there,â Yoongi says, his voice thick with emotion. You can tell heâs worried about his friendâwondering if theyâre okay or not.
âJungkook. Remember I told you about him?â he asks, a fleeting smile crossing his lips. Itâs a melancholy smile, tinged with fear and uncertainty.
You nod, gripping the door handle as the terrain grows rougher. The world outside the window is unrecognizable, a desolate wasteland of gray ash and smoldering fires. The once lush and vibrant landscape is now barren, dying, the remnants of civilization crumbling away.
Time blurs as you drive, the hours indistinguishable from one another. Eventually, you spot the outlines of houses on the horizon, but they are no longer standing. Theyâre crumbled and reduced to rubble, much like Yoongiâs home. The sight tightens your throat with dread, an eerie premonition of what might await you at Jungkookâs place. Your heart breaks for Yoongi, for the fragile hope he clings to in this devastated world.
Yoongi stops the car in front of the destroyed house and jumps out of the truck. His face is unreadable, but you catch glimpses of sadness and anger as he clenches his fists and frowns, taking in the wreckage.
You get out too and join him, your throat and heart tightening at the sight. You scan the ruins for any sign of his friend but find no one. Youâre unsure if thatâs a good thing or not. âMaybe he made it out?â you suggest, your voice meek and filled with sadness as memories of losing your own friends flood back, and tears well up in your eyes.
âMaybe,â Yoongi responds blankly. You reach out and grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his, offering the support and comfort heâs given you so many times before.
âItâs going to be okay,â you reassure him, slowly beginning to believe your own words. With Yoongi by your side, you feel like you might actually have a fighting chance in this godforsaken world.
âThank you,â he whispers, leaning into you. The ashy air caresses your cheek as you both turn back to the truck.Â
You get in and drive off, the road ahead uncertain, but the bond between you stronger than ever. Youâre in search of a place to stay, a place to escape this relentless dystopia, and for the first time, you feel a glimmer of hope.
It feels like youâve been driving forever, the sky a perpetual twilight, offering no clue to the hour. You push through, finally finding a piece of nature that remains green, untouched by the devastation. Yoongi stops the car and begins unloading the bags, including some you hadnât noticed before.
âYouâve got a tent too?â you ask in disbelief. By now, you shouldnât be surprised by his preparedness, but each new revelation still catches you off guard.
âYeah. We can also sleep in the truck though,â he replies, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.
âThe tent is fine. But do you think we can keep warm?â you wonder aloud, unsure of how cold the night might get. You canât even recall what month it isâApril, May? The days and weeks blur together in this endless struggle.
âYeah, weâll just huddle together,â he assures you. His confidence is comforting, and you believe him. He sets up the tent with practiced ease, pulling out a thin mattress. After a small meal, exhaustion overtakes both of you, and you head into the tent. Yoongi wraps his arms around you, his body warmth making you feel safe and secure.
Despite your weariness, you struggle to fall asleep, feeling restless. Sensing this, Yoongi soothes you with his hands, leading to you making love, feeling the spark between you, so vital in this broken world, helps you finally drift off to sleep, your bodies intertwined, finding solace and unity in each other amidst the chaos.
In the morning, you think, the air is thick with smoke, small rays of sunlight filtering through the dense clouds above. You stretch and yawn, watching as Yoongi builds a fire, the two of you eating a small meal to regain some energy. The warmth of the fire and his presence beside you offer a fleeting comfort in the bleakness of the world. As you kiss, savoring each otherâs company, the air feels warmer than you expected, a small reprieve in the otherwise harsh landscape.
As you sit there, a sense of unease washes over you. The hairs on your arms stand on end, and you lift your head from Yoongiâs shoulder, scanning the area for any signs of danger. The rustling in the nearby bushes makes your heart race, but you see nothing.
âWhatâs wrong?â Yoongi asks, pulling you tighter against him.
âI just feel like weâre being watchedâŚ,â you whisper, your voice barely audible, as if afraid the very air might betray you.
âMaybe we shouldnât have made the fire,â he replies, his voice tense. âIt gives away our position.â He drags his feet through the dirt, smothering the fire with soil and stones.
âJust to be safe, I think we should move,â he suggests, standing up and pulling you with him. His grip on your hand is firm, reassuring.
You nod, the weight of the situation sinking in. Better to be cautious than caught off guard. The world around you is hostile, every shadow a potential threat. Together, you gather your things and move on, seeking safety in an uncertain future.
Then you get back on the road. Youâve traveled so far out that you have no idea where you are, but you hope youâve left behind whatever presence you felt before. You turn to Yoongi, smiling at him, feeling a glimmer of safety and happiness despite the bleakness of your life. Heâs your light, keeping you hopeful in this desolate world.
Suddenly, a harsh sound pierces the air, followed by a deafening explosion. The earth shatters next to the truck, sending it spiraling into the air. You scream, clutching onto anything you can, as the vehicle flips and lands on its roof. Your seatbelt catches you, holding you in place as the world turns upside down. The ringing in your ears is unbearable, distorting your voice as you try to speak. âYoongiâare you okay?â you manage to choke out.
He grunts, âIâm okay. What about you?â
âIâm fine,â you pant, feeling the blood rush to your head. The urgency to escape floods your senses.Â
Yoongi frees himself from his seatbelt and falls to the ground with a thud, groaning in pain. Despite the agony, he pushes through, helping you free yourself and dragging you out of the wreckage. Both of you are alive, miraculously. The injuries seem minimalâYoongiâs knuckles are bleeding, but thatâs about it. You look around at the desolate landscape, the truck lying on its roof, shattered glass everywhere, and you realize just how close you came to losing everything. But as long as youâre together, you have a fighting chance in this godforsaken world.
âFucking hell, my head is spinning,â Yoongi grunts, wincing in pain.
You suggest grabbing the bags from the wrecked truck, finding some painkillers for both of you, and treating his bruises. He nods, his eyes scanning the desolate surroundings. âWe should ditch the truck and move on by foot,â he says, standing up and looking toward a large hill on the horizon. âMaybe we can make it up there?â
âGood idea,â you agree. You grab the bags, your weapons, and, hand in hand, you begin navigating the rough terrain. The landscape is a mix of green patches and dying vegetation, the minimal sunlight choking out what little life remains. Without photosynthesis, you wonder how anything will survive.
You walk until exhaustion sets in, reminding you of the long trek you made before meeting Yoongi. Weary, you decide to make camp, forgoing a fire pit this time. Setting up the tent, you collapse into sleep, the days and nights blending together under the perpetual gray sky.
One morning, after what feels like endless walking, you attempt to scale the hill. It looms vast and imposing, perhaps more of a mountain than a hill. As you drag your tired bodies up the elevated trail, Yoongi breaks the silence. âDo you also feel like weâre being followed?â
You nod, a shiver running down your spine. Youâve felt the presence since yesterday, a constant shadow lurking at the edges of your perception. But what can you do until it reveals itself?
âKeep your hand close to your gun and knife, okay?â Yoongi instructs, his voice tense. He remains on guard, eyes darting around as you continue your climb. You donât have the energy to chase shadows, especially when survival depends on reaching the top of this mountain hill. The weight of the unknown presses down on you, every step a reminder of the perilous world you now inhabit.
The air grows thinner and colder as you ascend, prompting you to make camp again. You eat and attempt to sleep, though youâre always alert, wary of whatever or whoever is following you. Despite the tension, you manage a light sleep.Â
In the morning, you stretch your body and gently kiss Yoongi awake, then strap on your leather harness and weapons. As you step out of the tent to grab something to eat, your blood runs cold. A man is rummaging through your supplies, his eyes wild with hunger. He turns, and your gaze locks with his.Â
Panic grips you.
Yoongi emerges from the tent, instantly assessing the situation. His hand flies to the gun in his jeans pocket, drawing it with practiced speed as he steps beside you. The man looks between you and Yoongi, unafraid. Heâs a mess, dirtied by war and bombs, eyes red and feral. For a fleeting second, you wonder if heâs even human.
âTouch her and die,â Yoongi warns, his voice cold and venomous.Â
The man charges at you, and for a moment, you freeze, memories of a similar encounter at Yoongiâs house flooding your mind. But this time, your instincts kick in. Your hand finds the gun, you draw it, and aim at the strangerâs leg. Heart pounding, you clench your teeth, close your eyes, and pull the trigger.Â
A scream rips through the air.
Yoongi is at your side in an instant, taking the gun from your trembling hands. The stranger falls to the ground, clutching his thigh as blood oozes from the wound. You pant furiouslyâyou did that. You hurt someone. The realization makes you feel sick.
âYou just defended yourself. Itâs okay,â Yoongi reassures, patting soothing circles on your back.Â
You nod, trying to believe him. You didnât kill the stranger; you defended yourself. Itâs a grim comfort in this bleak reality, but itâs something.
âWhat should we do about him?â you ask, still panting, your body tingling with the aftershocks of adrenaline.
âJust leave him,â Yoongi replies with a shrug, quickly gathering your things and dismantling the camp. The strangerâs screams of pain echo through the air, but Yoongi shows no mercy, just cold pragmatism. Youâre grateful he doesnât kill the man outright, though you know he will likely die anyway.
You move on, leaving the wounded stranger behind to fend for himself. Deciding against climbing all the way up the mountain to avoid the bitter cold, you continue your journey. Time becomes a blur of setting up and breaking camp, bombs still scattering the ground around you, but you keep pushing forward, driven by the hope of escaping this nightmare.
Eventually, you find a small hill overlooking the sea. The view is hauntingly beautifulâa stark contrast to the desolation around you. âDo you think we could swim to safety?â you ask, staring at the sparkling blue water, a surreal contrast to the barren landscape.
Yoongi chuckles darkly. âI think weâd die of exhaustion and drown before making it to another country or island.â
âWeâre probably gonna die of radiation anyway now,â you spit, setting your bags down on the ashy ground. The sea, still blue and inviting, feels like a cruel joke.
âYeah, we might feel some radiation effects in a few years, if weâre alive by then,â Yoongi says, putting his bags down too.
You both sit in silence, the weight of your predicament settling in. The world as you knew it is gone, replaced by a harsh, unrelenting reality. But for now, you have each other, and that fragile connection gives you the strength to carry on.
For a moment, you just stare at each other, surrounded by a world that has fallen apart, crumbled into something unrecognizable, gray, and dead. But heâs alive, and so are you. Youâve made it this far, and it makes your heart pound. Your lips crash into hisâhungry for his touch, for the feeling of being alive, for safety.
The kiss ignites into a frenzy of lustful touches as you strip, indifferent to the fact that youâre outsideâthereâs no one else around anyway. You kiss him deeply, touching him like itâs the last time. The world is ending, and your desperation fuels your desire. You grip his hard cock, your mouth finding him, sucking, kissing, pleasing until he stops you with a growl, saying he wants to be inside you. You want that too. Laying down on the ground, you welcome him into your warm walls like youâve done many times before. He knows how to please you, his touches and kisses driving you wild.Â
You want this moment to last forever, but youâre acutely aware of the uncertainty of your future. You donât know if youâll be alive tomorrow, next week, or next month or even in a year. But you know Yoongi, and he grounds you.Â
With him, itâs okay if the world is endingâas long as you have him.
Bombs continue to fall in the distance, and tears escape your eyes, a bittersweet reminder of your probable fate. But at least you have Yoongi by your side. Your breaths mingle, your hands lace together, and he kisses your neck, making love to you like itâs the last time.Â
Time on this earth feels borrowed. You lose yourself in his touch, in his kisses, feeling breathless and alive despite the encroaching darkness.
â Authorâs note(2): hi! Since I posted the teaser Iâve been really stressed, lol. Because I felt so pressured by your expectations, so I really hope that this has turned out well 𼚠I love that so many people are interested in the story, so I just hope I did it justice! Please let me know? Again, this is based on my very real fears, but mingled with fiction. I tried my best to make an open ending, so youâre free to interpret it as you please (this is very intentional because of something I might explain later, lol). Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed it. I had my husband beta-ing it, and he fixed at lot of my poor gramma, got flustered by the smut and said it was too descriptive, and it said this wasnât as detailed as I usually write smut 𤣠Anyway, he said he wanted more âsurvivalâ with oc and Yoongiâ and I completely agree. But I donât have any more words, and Iâm honestly afraid to make it too much into âThe Last of Usâ or something else I watched (seeing as Iâm not really familiar with writing apocalyptic stories, lol). But I hope it was still okay, at least đĽš
What did you think?? đ
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Set Me Free || myg
min yoongi x female reader
Summary:Â Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count:Â 14,377 Genre:Â friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings:Â death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching
Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.
Itâs cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesnât bother Yoongi, necessarily. Itâs been a while since heâs been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.
Itâs strange being back here. Heâd once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years heâs been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where heâd spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.
The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since heâd walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since heâd walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days.Â
But whoâs counting?
Thereâs a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. Heâs spent daysâno, weeksâplaying out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, heâll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, heâs terrified.Â
What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you donât answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?
He takes a deep breath and knocks.
It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.
You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesnât know what to say. In many ways, you havenât changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tiredâand Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustionâand you were slouching, but now, youâre standing ramrod straight, and thereâs a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.
âHey.â He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. âI uh⌠I heard about your parents,â he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. âIâm sorry you have to go through it.â
âBrave of you to show up.â You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knowsâhe senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to youâthat itâs an act. âYou know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.â
âI know.â
Thereâs a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.
âWhy are you here, Yoongi?â
âIâŚâÂ
I want to apologize.Â
Iâm so sorry.
I miss you.
It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice somethingâanythingâto come out of his mouth. âI wanted you to have this.â
He holds out his hands, and in an instant, heâs holding a box. Itâs full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.
âA 10-year-old shoebox?â You do nothing to mask your surprise.Â
âLetters,â he corrects. âYou donât have to read them but⌠I wanted you to have them.â He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. âThank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I⌠guess Iâll go.â
Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, heâs gone. Disappeared into the night.
You sigh and shut the door, the box heâd given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You donât have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you arenât sure that youâll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parentsâ funeral.
Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.
You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you werenât alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.
The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You werenât even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that youâd hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldnât, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.
âWould you slow down?â You could hear the frustration in Yoongiâs voice as he followed you. You ignored him. âGoddamnit,â he breathed, picking up his pace. âWill you at least listen to me?â
Quite frankly, you didnât care what he had to say in that moment.
âIt wouldnât be a permanent thing,â he continued. âI just⌠I donât know. I need to do this.â
You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. âWhat the fuck are you talking about? Youâre not being oppressed, Yoongi. No oneâs stopping you from going out and exploring the world.â
âMaybe this way of life isnât for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who theyâre supposed to be with and how theyâre supposed to live.â
His words stung, and until then, you werenât quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationshipsâyour parents were, sure, and Yoongiâs parentsâbut plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.
Until a few months before, youâd been content with that. There was no doubt youâd been best friends from the jump. Youâd been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, heâd kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadnât thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And nowâŚ
Now he wanted you gone.Â
âYou want to be free that badly?â By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. âFine.â
âWh-â
Thereâs a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and youâd rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wildâyouâd both so wanted it to be your friend. âIf you love something, set it free,â your mother had said, âSometimes itâs the kindest option.â
Kinder for whom?
The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldnât remember the last time youâd been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering.Â
Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongiâs eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.
âWhat the fuck?â Yoongiâs eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. âWhat the fuck?â
âYouâre free.â And this time, you couldnât hide your sadness behind your anger.Â
He didnât follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you werenât sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.
There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He mustâve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up.Â
Letters, heâd said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that theyâre on the floor, they arenât in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after heâd left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesnât. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongiâs letter brings is sadness. Grief.
Youâd spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadnât died, but when he left, youâd lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, youâd grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasnât the same.
Glancing through his letter, it seems you werenât the only one struggling. You arenât sure if thatâs a comfort or not.
Itâs been almost a year since the night marketâone year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didnât it? I really thought you would understand.
Iâve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I canât wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?
At the end of the day, I guess we didnât understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesnât reveal everything. But⌠that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didnât exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us⌠Maybe thatâs selfish, too.
Why couldnât you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldnât hate me, and maybe then Iâd stop hating myself too.
Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasnât half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you?Â
Would you still be there if I had?
You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadnât been back to it since the year heâd kissed you. Itâs silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongiâs letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldnât change anything, but thereâs a part of you that wonât listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadnât kissed youâif you hadnât kissed him backâhe wouldnât have left.Â
The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you werenât familiar with, theyâd enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you werenât sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic.Â
You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiarsâbooks on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.
Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasnât cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.
âWant to go sit?â you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables theyâd set up under one of the sparkling trees.Â
His eyes widened. âNo, thatâs okay. Youâre looking.â
âIâm done. Letâs go sit.â
âI-â He deflated a little and didnât argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables.Â
You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongiâs arm pressed against your own.
âYou okay?â you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.
Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasnât to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didnât talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence youâd ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.
But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that heâd rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too.Â
He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. Youâd always thought that Yoongiâs eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned inâor maybe you did, you werenât sureâ as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldnât quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled.Â
That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, youâd never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like youâd been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didnât, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.
You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as theyâd been before youâd kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.
Seeing him again was hard. Youâre willing to admit that. Youâd spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesnât let you forget the betrayal.
You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didnât have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that youâd officially call it a crowd. Theyâre all minglingâyouâd bought beer and wine, and if you didnât know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your motherâbright pink, fiery orange, deep yellowâand when you were a child, youâd loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors.Â
The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witchesâespecially those who were romantically involved with their familiarsâwear them as jewelry. They donât really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you arenât really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).
As a child, you hadnât been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. Theyâd been almost as devastated as you when youâd crushed your bond gem.
Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. Youâd stayed home from school that dayâsick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, youâd ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-
âSheâs not here.â Your motherâs voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.
âPlease.â It was Yoongi, youâd recognize his baritone from miles away.
Quietly, youâd slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.
âI donât think thatâs a good idea right now,â he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the doorâs sight.
A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, âYoongi?â You couldnât hear his responseâhe must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, âIt can be scary, and youâre both still young. Give it time.â
The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.
A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your motherâs coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, youâre distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parentsâ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.
He doesnât move, just sits there patiently. Watching. Heâs there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you donât particularly want; heâs there when people start trickling out. And heâs there when youâre the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park.Â
Itâs quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part youâve been dreading. Because you donât want to keep the damn thingâyou could if you wanted to, but thereâs also tradition to think about. But itâs also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if theyâd felt like this when your grandparents had died.Â
At least theyâd had each other during it.
You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the otherâŚ
âIf youâre going to be here, the least you could do is be here,â you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.
Thankfully, he doesnât ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until heâs standing beside you. Itâs weird, having him this close again. Youâd been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, youâre exhausted, yet alert.Â
His hair is longerâas a teen, heâd kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. Heâs filled out and put on some muscle, and though heâs still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet itâs the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.
You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parentsâ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.
At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism.Â
For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousandsâmaybe hundreds of thousandsâof witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.
Itâs strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.
âLet me buy you a coffee,â Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.
Yoongi isnât sure why you say yes, but soon enough, youâre walking into the Green Bean just behind him. Heâs uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until youâre in line at the cafe.
âWhat are they staring at?â he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.
âYouâve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?â
Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But itâs not just him theyâre watching. He doesnât miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?
You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongiâs not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he canât bring himself to drag his gaze away. Itâs like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.
The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. Itâs warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.
âWhat happened to them?â he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. âYour parents, I mean. I⌠didnât hear how theyâŚâ
You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. âI always kind of thought it would be dad whoâd go first.â Your voice is barely above a whisper. âHe was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year andâŚâ You shrug. âOne of the neighbors found them.â
âIâm so sorry.â You wave him off. âNo. Honestly. They were nice.â
âThanks.â
He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. âYou arenât living here anymore?â Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like heâs surprised? He supposes that heâs always just kind of pictured you still⌠here, in town.
âIâm over in Ashland,â you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. âI work at the library at the university.â
âYeah?â He raises his eyebrows. âHowâs that?â
You shrug. âMostly good. Itâs a job. The libraryâs usually pretty quiet, soâŚâ
âThatâs really cool.â
Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. Itâs a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the countryâs top medical universities. Heâs proud of you, he realizes. Youâd always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, heâd planned on going with you. And then, of course, heâd ruined it. It stings a little to know that youâd gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadnât meant that much in the grand scheme of things.
But then your eyes meet, and heâs confronted by the anxiety and sadness youâre feeling, and he knows heâs just being stupid. Again.
âSo, uhâŚâ He feels a wave of nerves wash over himâthey arenât his own. You tap your half-empty mug. âWhat have you been up to?â
If heâs honest, Yoongi wasnât expecting you to ask about him. Heâs shocked enough that youâd even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. âI was traveling,â he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you donât react. âBut now Iâm up north in Ulmae. Iâve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.â
âYeah?â
âYeah, uhâŚâ He chuckles, a little nervous. âTheyâve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.â
Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. âThey let you play?â
âItâs only like an hour a night-â
âNo, shut up. Thatâs amazing!â You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it.Â
Heâs disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. Itâs starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. Itâs not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him.Â
Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk pastâpeople he recognizes but couldnât possibly nameâsome are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like heâs doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.
You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. âI⌠probably shouldnât even ask,â you start warily. âBut do you want to come back for a drink?â
The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. Thereâs a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but itâs clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 yearsâ worth of more of them.Â
Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasnât changed.
You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle âclink.â The shoebox heâd given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? Thereâs no way for him to really know.Â
Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. Thereâs something different about how youâre sitting, something in your aura that he didnât notice in the cafe. Maybe youâd been saving it for private, but he can sense that youâre reining your emotions in.Â
But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. âIâm going to need you to explain these.â The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.
The first is dated only a few years after heâd left.
Iâve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that thereâs still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like thereâs a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. Youâre everywhere and nowhere, andâŚ
I would like to see you again. Someday.Â
How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope itâs treated you kindly. Itâs what you deserve.
The other is from the day he turned 25.
A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didnât understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free⌠but it never was about being free from you. I canât even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for youâŚ
I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didnât want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasnât you I was trying to be free from.
I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bondâI only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universeâŚ
I realize now that I could haveâshould haveâcommunicated it all better. If only so that I wouldnât have lost you. So that it wouldnât have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldnât have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.
Iâm sorry. I feel like itâs useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.
Wherever you are, I hope youâll understand. Take care until I see you again.
I hope I see you again.
Yoongi sighs. The lettersâall of them, not just these twoâtended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. Heâd been an idiot when he leftâhe was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit itâand it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.
For a moment, itâs quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, heâs quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. âWhy are you here, Yoongi?â
âI-â
âBecause if the roles were reversed, I donât know that Iâd have the balls to come back. On one hand, Iâm impressed. On the otherâŚâ You trail off and shrug.
Heâs quiet, not sure how to respond. Heâs got lots of thoughts, lots of feelingsâof course he doesâbut right now, youâre a wall, and heâs not sure how to read the situation. Heâs not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.
You laugh, but thereâs no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky youâve nearly finished. âIâm running on like two hoursâ sleep,â you admit. âBut fuck, Yoongi, I⌠I was so convinced that Iâd never see you again. I wasnât sure I wanted to.â Then, softer. âIâm still not sure.â
âWhy?â Itâs out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.
It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. âWhat do you mean, âwhyâ?â You practically spit the question at him. âYou⌠you⌠Do you know what itâs like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?â
âI never said-â
âYou wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.â You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. âAnd then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-â from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, â-and you just⌠What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?â
âI donât know!â He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. âI donât know,â he repeats. âI just⌠I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, andâŚâ He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. âAnd then I was on a train.â
You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. Youâve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the yearsâwhat would you do if he came back?âbut somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, heâd never told you that he missed you.
Youâd never considered that he would miss you.
But you should say something, right? Itâs weird that youâre sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think youâre angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.
âHow long are you here for?â
Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. Youâve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.
He sighs. ââTill tomorrow.â
You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. Heâs back in your life for two days, and then heâs gone again. Thatâs not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And thatâs⌠you arenât sure how to feel.Â
Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. Heâs barely touched it. âMaybeâŚâ he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. âMaybe I should go?â
Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But thereâs a more logical part of you thatâs overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. Heâs offering to go, which means that heâs either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.
You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.
The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but sheâd also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and heâd said heâd bring his trucks to play in the sand.Â
But he wasnât there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.
âRemember what I said,â mama said softly. âKick your legs.â
You werenât quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward.Â
A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didnât quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mamaâs rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.
A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.
âI brought all my trucks!â he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. âYou can be the green one. Here.â He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.
You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright greenâthe same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongiâs mom usually boughtâand it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didnât take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.
Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldnât be blue.Â
One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.
âOh,â she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. âYou two have found your gem.â
âWhaâs that mean?â Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom.Â
She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. âYou know how I have this from your dad? Itâs like that.â
âBut-â
âYour friendship is special,â she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. âIt means youâve gotta look out for each other now.â
For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. âOkay!â He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. âCan I have it?â
âItâs not yours anymore,â his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. âItâs a gift.â
You looked to your mama and she nodded. âTake care of it,â she told you. âYou only get one.â
Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick.Â
It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadnât been to school in days. Your teachers hadnât even asked, theyâd just started giving you packetsâhomework and printouts of their lessons and extra materialsâso he wouldnât fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room.Â
You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politenessâyou were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldnât mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear heâd had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty.Â
But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. âYouâre going to get sick, too,â he protested weakly.Â
You waved him off. âEveryoneâs sick.â You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. âMs. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, youâll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what sheâs talking about.â He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. âHereâs the novel for Brownâs class. She said sheâd talk to you about making up the paper when youâre back.â
It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classesâ worth of homework and assignments, but youâd put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didnât really matter.Â
âWill you stay?â he asked when you were done. âHelp me with some of this?â
âWhat happened to not wanting me to get sick?â you teased.
âI mean, you donât have to. If you want to go home, thatâs fine, too. I just-â He coughed, burying his face in his blankets.Â
âYou staying for dinner, hon?â Yoongiâs mom called from the bottom of the stairs.
âYes please!â you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets youâd brought for Yoongi. âWanna take a stab at math?â
Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get⌠weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. Youâd tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet âjust thinking about some things.â After that, heâd be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.
Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didnât really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see.Â
âIâŚâ He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. âI need to tell you something.â
âOkay?â You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.
âIâŚâ he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. âIâve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think⌠fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.â
âYou can just say it,â you told him. âItâs just me.â
He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like âthatâs the problem,â but after a moment, he continued. âI need to be free of all of this.â
âWhat?â
âHavenât you ever thought that maybe the universe doesnât know what itâs talking about? That maybe youâd be happier if you chose things for yourself?â He frowned. âThereâs rules for gifts. Weâre only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-â
â-and we get told who weâre to bond to.â
He recoiled at your words. âThatâs not-â
âBut itâs true, right?â Your gaze fell from him to your hands. âItâs just one more thing you donât get to control.â
Yoongi sighed. âI just⌠want to be able to choose for myself.â
Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing youâd expected. You didnât particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didnât want you. You hadnât yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but youâd never guessed that heâd do such a sudden about-face.Â
âRight,â you said softly.
âJust⌠think about it?â he asked, dark eyes pleading.Â
You didnât like where this was going, didnât like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.
Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadnât changed his mind. If anything, heâd gotten more insistent.Â
âI want to find myself,â heâd told you once. âI need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.â
âI just need to get away,â heâd said one day while you were doing homework together. âStart fresh somewhere new.â
And then, on the way home from school one day, heâd said, âI need to be free of it all.âÂ
And youâd snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldnât help it.
âFuck off,â youâd told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, heâd had trouble keeping up with you.
âWould you slow down?â You could hear the frustration in Yoongiâs voice as he followed you. You ignored him. âGoddamnit,â he breathed, picking up his pace. âWill you at least listen to me?â
Heâd pushed. And eventually, youâd given in. Because despite everything, youâd loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And nowâŚ
Now youâre sitting alone at the train station at ass oâclock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already youâre inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that theyâre staring. At this point, youâre used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar.Â
You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you.Â
Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.
Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the trainâs luggage car.
Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.
You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.
Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. Heâs wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and heâs wearing his glasses. Heâs clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.
âHey,â he says cautiously, approaching you.
âHey.â You wave slightlyâawkwardly.
âWhat are you doing here?â His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasnât said much of anything to anyone this morning.
You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next trainâhis, you presumeâisnât due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.
âI didnât like how we left things,â you admit. âI⌠I wasn't sure if you were serious.â
âSerious?â His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. âI did miss youâI do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.â
âWere you right?â
He chuckles. âNot exactly.â
You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something thatâs been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.
âItâs been good seeing you again,â you say, and even though you mean it, you canât bring yourself to look at him. âI⌠think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. Itâs good to see that youâre⌠not that.â
âI am sorry,â he whispers. âThat was the worst thing I have ever done, and I justâŚâ
âI get it.â
âWhat?â
âI think I kind of always did, but⌠it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-â
âYou were the last thing I wanted to get away from.â Maybe itâs the waver in his voice, maybe itâs the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. âI was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.â
âI thought maybe Iâd done something,â you admit quietly. âI thought that maybe after the night market-â
âNo! Oh my god, no,â he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. âYouâre my best friend! I lo-â
âTrain 49âthe Northern Limitedâwill be arriving on the platform in five minutes,â the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the buildingâs intercom. âIâll take you over to the platform when youâre ready.â
Yoongi groans.
âHere.â You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. âPut your number in.â
For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You donât even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.
You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe heâs just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.
âIâll text you,â he promises.
You nod, almost mechanically. You werenât expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.
âI- Can we-â You sigh, take a deep breath. âCan I have a hug?â
He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.
Itâs shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. Heâs warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isnât leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.
âText me,â you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.
âI will. I promise.â
And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform.Â
You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when heâd left the first time. You should be feeling optimisticâfor the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe thereâs hope. For you, for your friendship, for⌠whatever comes next. But itâs hard to feel any sort of positive when heâs on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.
As youâre walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that youâre flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. Itâs nerves and itâs excitement and maybe, itâs also a little bit of hope.
Yoongi đ: thanks again for not turning me into a bug
âIâve been thinking,â Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see himâthereâs a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.
âDangerous,â you joke.
âRude.â He nuzzles down further into his pillow. âIâd like to come visit,â he admits softly.
For a moment, your mind goes blank. Thereâs a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. Heâd kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. Youâd text throughout the weekâlittle messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogsâand then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. Youâd spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you.Â
The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, youâd watched him cook dinner, heâd played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, heâd called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldnât fall asleep on the train.
âWhat do you mean?â You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.
He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. âI miss you,â he mumbles, and you almost donât catch it, itâs so muffled by his arm and your phoneâs speaker.
You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. âI guess you could come.â
âI donât have to if you donât want me to.â
âHey now. Itâs against the rules to take something like that back.â
He laughs. âWhat rules?â
âYou know. The rules.â You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. âDonât tell me youâve forgotten the rules?â He grunts. âBeing away for so long has rotted your brain, Iâm afraid.â
âSo rude.â His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. âNo, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?â
You frown. Youâd been trying to forget about next weekend. âNormally Iâd go home for the new year,â you say softly.
âWhy donât,â he begins, stifling a yawn. Youâre a little surprised heâs made it this long without seeming tired. Itâs almost 3am. âWhy donât I come hang out? We can do new yearâs stuff together.â
âYouâre sure?â
âOf course.â
âWhat about work?â
He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. âI make the schedule. Theyâll deal with it.â
âYoongi.â
He continues on, ignoring you. âI can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldnât get there until late, is that okay?â
You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, youâve been talking to him in one way or another, but itâs different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.
The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than youâd expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so youâre mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the Universityâs faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for.Â
In the small handful of weeks since youâd seen him last, youâd replayed things in your mind. But mostly, youâve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You arenât fooling yourself. You havenât forgotten. But thereâs a part of youâa large part, if youâre honest with yourselfâthat hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.
After an eternity, itâs Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that itâs dark outâyouâve never seen it this dead. Itâs late, the station is getting ready to close, but thereâs one last train that has yet to come in. Thereâs another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who theyâre waiting to pick up, but itâs fleeting.Â
The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.
He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.
âHey,â he says softly.
âHey. How was the train?â
He groans. âLong.â
You hum. Heâd worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But heâs here. Heâs not a face on a screen, heâs in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. Itâs strange. Youâd been without him for nearly 13 years. Itâs only been a few short weeks since youâd seen him last, but youâre giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, heâs here. With you.
You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongiâs sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands heâd been obsessed with in high school, but you donât turn it up. Youâre fairly certain that heâs fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that heâs facing the window.
Itâs a damn miracle that thereâs an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who donât know how to parallel parkâwho refuse to do itâbut youâd taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think youâre going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.
Your apartment isnât large, but itâs bigger than most for what you pay for it. Youâre on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.
He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. Youâve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.
âYouâre probably exhausted,â you say. âIâll let you get settled.â
Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. ââm not tired.â Ever defiant. But you can tell heâs lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, heâs up much later than thisâyou know, because sometimes, he calls youâbut between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you donât blame him for being a little sleepy.
âI put some towels out in the bathroom,â you tell him, gesturing down the hall. âItâs the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.â
âThanks.â
And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.
An hour later, you find that you canât sleep. Not that youâve even tried. You arenât even sure why youâre so wired. But youâre sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. Youâve had friends stay over before. But this⌠you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, youâre justâŚ
You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.
âYou have the softest towels in the world,â he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels youâd set out for him.Â
âWould you believe I got them on clearance?â
âIâll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.â
âI charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.â
At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.
âSo⌠whatâs the plan for tomorrow?â
âI havenât really thought about it.â He shoots you a look that says he doesnât believe you, and you relent. âWell,â you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, âThereâs this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,â you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. âBut it doesnât start until late.â He hums. âWas there something you wanted to do?âÂ
âNo, just-â He stifles a yawn. âCurious.â He leans back against the headboard, settling in.
Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. Itâs comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers.Â
And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesnât respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.
For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as youâre about to kick the blanket off, you pause.Â
Weâre adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesnât have to mean anything. Youâre mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space.Â
At least, you think you are.Â
But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, youâre suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. Heâd always been handsome, and now that youâre both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable.Â
Oh no.Â
You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that youâve shoved out of the way. Yoongiâs beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime heâd been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. Youâre three episodes in, and you donât have the heart to tell him that you donât really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, heâll be gone again.Â
His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that itâs more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesnât stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knewâthe one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). Heâs quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger.Â
Youâre a little jealous of it, to be honest.Â
Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. âDo you remember,â he begins, settling back in against the couch, âwhen we were 16 and we went camping?â You hum an affirmative. âWe spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.â
You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that youâd had to spend the whole time with Yoongiâs parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers youâd ever had. âWhat made you think of that?â
He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. âI dunno. But Iâve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler thenâŚâÂ
You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed.Â
âYou know,â Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, âwhen you said âparkâ, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.â
âI think technically it is.â You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.
âWe drove for an hour!â
You shrug. âBig city.â
He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He canât tell if youâre being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether itâs part of the city or not, it doesnât really matter. Thereâs a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. Itâs busyâpeople mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing.Â
He adjusts his coatâitâs cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snowâand when heâs ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. Itâs astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand.Â
So we donât get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, heâs not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isnât expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like heâs holding a candle a little too close to the flame.
The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isnât really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, thereâs a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But thereâs also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongiâs age and olderâprofessors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.
Itâs subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. Itâs the people who stand so close together theyâre almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each otherâs personal spaces.
You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response.Â
Thereâs a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. Heâs a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic tableâs bench. The other oneâa womanâremains seated, eyeing Yoongi.
For a hot minute, itâs weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. Itâs not even the side-eye that the womanâs shooting him. The man is handsomeâYoongiâs not blindâand you are friendly with him. But thereâs a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongiâs arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.
Youâre still holding his hand.
Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while sheâs doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwanâs partner, and Yoongi doesnât see a gem anywhere. He almostâalmostâstarts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.
You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. âWhat do they have good?â
âThe pierogi guy from last year is back-â
Jihwan interrupts Alice. âToo much butter.â
Itâs not even what he says. Itâs how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you canât be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy.Â
âApparently, heâs got a new flavor this year,â Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. âBut the taco guy is also back-â
âIs the popcorn guy back?â you ask. laughing. âBecause I kind of want a front-row seat to that.â Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. âPierogi guyâs daughter was engaged to taco guyâs daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-â
â-It was amazing,â Alice adds.
âIt was ridiculous,â Jihwan mumbles.
You push him. âIt was a little like having our own little telenovela here.â
Cautiously, Yoongi asks, âWhy were they fighting?â
âNo one knows.â You shrug. âBut it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.â
Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what youâre talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadnât cared much one way or the otherâall businesses change their logos at some point, right?âand he always suspected that you didnât either, but youâd both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and heâs pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons youâd made somewhere in their house.
You finally let go of Yoongiâs hand when youâre standing in line at the taco truck, and heâs painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You donât go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. Youâre scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. Itâs gotten darker since youâve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below donât help to make the night sky visible.Â
You pay for his tacosââI get an employee discount,â you say, brandishing your university id like itâs a black cardâand Yoongi doesnât think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone.Â
âWhereâd-â Heâs not even asked the question, but youâre already shrugging.
âAliceâs probably off calling her fiance,â you say it like youâre back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, âand who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.â
âHe seemsâŚâ
You sigh. âYeah.â
âHowâd you meet him?â
A pang of�� something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. âHe and I are the only two on campus without gems.â
Oh.Â
Well.
That makes sense.
âSo theyâŚâ
You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. âYeah, they know.â
Which explains Aliceâs side-eye earlier. The weird emotion heâd gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings.Â
He hums, not really sure what to say. Whatâs there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.
âNo wonder they didnât kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.â He takes another bite of his taco. âThis is the best al pastor Iâve ever had.â
âHis chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.â
âMore special thanâŚ?â He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isnât really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.
You laugh, and something inside of him warms.
He hasnât even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. Sheâs looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. Thereâs an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sortâthe city isnât far enough north for it to be naturalâbut he canât tell whoâs doing it.
A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. Youâre there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, itâs almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, youâre beautiful.Â
âCome on,â you say softly. âLetâs get a good spot closer to the lookout.â
He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. Itâs tight, and you grab his hand so you donât get separated. Normally, Yoongi isnât a huge fan of crowds like this. Youâre a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand closeâclose enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.
The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildingsâ lights begin to flicker out.
âTheyâve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,â you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. âItâs kind of a big deal.â
With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations heâd learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. Youâd loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadnât looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him.Â
He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with âoohâs and âaahâs. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They arenât constant, only a few show up every minute, but itâs beautiful to watch.Â
Thereâs a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense somethingâheâs never really been sure what his emotions feel like for youâbecause you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.
Yoongi isnât really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe thatâs just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that heâs the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. Itâs quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden.Â
He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like heâs made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculationsâwhat he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you donât react.
But then you whisper, âWhyâd you stop?â and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring.Â
His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. Heâd only kissed you that one time, but somehow, heâd missed it, missed you.Â
When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chestâthough whether thatâs fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyoneâs guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, heâs pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.
For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then itâs like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.
12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. Heâd spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadnât left. If, after heâd kissed you at the night market, heâd been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. Heâd been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.
Now, heâd give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms.Â
okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)
#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#bts x reader#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#suga fic#suga fanfic#bts fanfic#bts fic#min yoongi fic#min yoongi fanfic#myg x reader#bts soulmate au#bts supernatural au#set me free
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Whirlwind | MYG
âĄpairing: min yoongi x reader
âĄwc: 3.1k
âĄgenre: smut, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol AU
⥠warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, oral sex (f receiving)
âĄsummary: with a hurricane coming your way towards your state, your roommate provides a safe haven to the man youâve despised for as long as you can remember.
MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)
The grocery store was bustling with people getting ready to prepare for the hurricane that was set to land in your state by the end of the week. You always knew once hurricane season started you needed to get supplies to keep you stocked, but since youâre plagued with the disease of procrastination you have no choice but to do last minute shopping. At least you had the company of Park Jimin to help you with your grocery run.
Park Jimin has been a close friend of yours since high school and have stayed roommates even after your college years. He has been the biggest support system for you throughout the years and you have been the same for him.
Once you were done checking out at the store you made your way to the car to pack all your groceries away. There was already a steady drizzle of rain falling down from the sky and you sighed already imagining the flooding that was bound to come with the storm. Jimin decided to take over the role of driving back home. You thanked him and quietly slid into the passenger seat. Jimin had refrained from any conversation throughout this trip and it made you a little concerned for him. He is never one to shy away from conversation or saying what he thinks so this behavior leads you to believe that something is wrong.
âHey Chim, is everything alright?â You glanced his way to see if his expression will give anything away, but his face didnât even twitch.
âYeah Iâm good bub, I just have some stuff on my mind. Donât mind me.â He sent you a small smile to try and placate your worries.
âOkay well you know Iâll always be here to listen whenever youâre ready.â You gave him a small squeeze to his shoulder and dropped the topic the rest of the drive home. The soft hum of the radio filled up the silence of the car ride.
Once at home the groceries were unpacked and put into their respective places in the fridge and pantry and Jimin stored the cases of water bottles in the garage. Without glancing your way he called your name softly to get your attention once he was back in the kitchen. You peered at him waiting to hear what he was going to ask.
âCan we talk once Iâm out of the shower?â You nodded and retreated to your room to give him the space he needed to do.
Your mind started to sift through memories of the past weeks to see if it could give you any kind of hint as to what this conversation could be about. Is he going to move out? Did you do something to upset him and didnât realize? The cogs were turning and anxiety was starting to make you feel a little queasy. The time that Jimin took to shower and change felt like it was stretching on for too long. You were about to get up and check on him when you heard tow soft knocks against your door before he opened it to let himself in.
He was changed into an oversized sleep shirt and sweatpants and his bare cheeks were slightly flushed from the hot shower. You patted the middle of the bed for him to sit down and get comfortable.
âWhatâs going on Jimin? Are you sure everything is okay?â He was wringing his fingers together
And his eyes shifted around the room as he was preparing himself to speak. âWith the hurricane coming up, is it okay if a friend comes and stays with us until it passes? His town is directly in the path of the storm and his area is prone to flooding.â You stared at him with widened eyes and nodded without hesitation. Why was he so nervous about this? This wasnât nearly as bad as all the scenarios that you came up with in your mind.
âOf course thatâs okay Chim! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Donât scare me like though again I thought you were dying or going to move out!â You stretched to give him a hug and he rubbed your back gently. With that being the end of the discussion he bid you goodnight with a tight lipped smile that you gave no mind to and he took himself back into his bedroom.
Okay -scratch that- there is one friend of Jiminâs that is not a friend of yours. That person is the one and only Min Yoongi. He has been a thorn in your side since Jimin has entered your life. He has never done anything that was genuinely that awful to you but itâs the way he speaks and carries himself with such an arrogant attitude that aggravates you.
When you saw him walk through the threshold of your front door with his duffel bag you instantly felt your blood start to bubble from the boiling rage you had in your body. The glare you sent Jimin was deadly and you motioned him to follow you into your room so you can tear him a new one talk.
âPark Jimin I donât know if you suddenly have amnesia for the past 10 years, but I donât know where you got the idea that Min Yoongi is allowed into our home! If I had known it was him that you were offering a place to stay I wouldâve just let the hurricane take him away.â You were livid. Jimin took your hands in his to stop the gesticulating you were doing. With the way your hands were moving wildly he was afraid you would hit him.
â I didnât tell you because of that reason Y/N. I know you donât like him, but this is only temporary. I told him to be on his best behavior, but if he really acts out Iâll send him to a hotel nearby if the weather isnât too bad.â You let out an exasperated sigh, but had nothing else to add to the conversation that would make it productive. You stomped back out into the living room and refused to acknowledge Yoongiâs presence. Maybe if you just ignore that heâs in your home you can keep your sanity intact.
âHey princess, can you sit somewhere else? This is gonna be my bed for the next couple of days.â You gritted your teeth hearing that god awful nickname Yoongi called you. He always said it in such a condescending tone that would get under your skin in the perfect way. âIn case you forgot Yoongi,â his name rolled off your tongue with a sharp bite. âThis is my home that you are a guest in. You donât get to boss me around on what I can and cannot do in my home and my couch.â You continued scrolling on your phone hoping he would get the hint to leave you alone. Needless to say you were wrong. Instead he decided to plop himself down on the couch without a care that jostled your body. You glared at him and he met your gaze with a stupid fucking smirk. On top of this he started to unpack his duffel bag noisily, tugging on the zipper with a strong force. You got up from the couch with a huff and locked yourself in your room with a slam of your door. This was going to be a strenuous couple of days.
The next day you woke up and found Jimin and Yoongi working outside to put shutters around the windows. This blowing wind was starting to pick up but the humidity was still high in the air. You stepped outside and greeted Jimin while he was busy holding the ladder to keep Yoongi stabilized. You retreated to get two cups of cold water to give the boys and when you came back outside Yoongi was wiping the sweat off his face with the front of his t-shirt. The way the fabric rode up to expose his pale skin and toned back had you staring without even realizing. Jimin was suddenly clearing his throat and when your eyes landed on his face he was staring at you with a raised eyebrow. You looked back at the cups and handed them both to Jimin and headed back inside without a word.
When they finished the project of the shutters the sliding door opened and when you walked in Min Yoongiâs shirt was off. You stared at his abs that were just as toned as his back. When the hell did he get so fit? Even his biceps were much bigger than you ever remember them. Why do you even remember the size of his biceps?
âYou seem to have a staring problem princess, keep that up and I might do something about it.â His low voice took you out of your daze and you scoffed at his comment. âYou come anywhere near me Min and Iâll punch you into next week. Watch yourself.â You slid your eyes back on the Netflix show that had lost your interest minutes ago. He just snickered and walked into Jiminâs room to take a shower.
Once the door was locked Jimin stood in front of the TV blocking your view with his hand on his hips. âWhatâs up with the sudden ogling you have for Yoongs? You wanna fuck him or something?â This made you burst out in sarcastic laughter. âGet real Jimin. I wouldnât even touch him with a 10 foot pole.â you rolled your eyes at the thought of even getting touched by Yoongi. âWhatever you say, but your actions are contradicting the bullshit that youâre trying to convince me with.â And with that Jimin stalked off into to kitchen for a quick snack.
Later in the evening the thunderstorm was booming with thunder and you could see peeks of lightning through the shutters. The combination of these conditions with the howling wind has led the power to go out. Jimin searched for the lantern in the garage to bring back some light into the home. You were left with Yoongi in the living room and no words were said between the two of you. It's for the best. Yoongi felt like breaking the silence first.
âYou know, I never understood why you canât stand me princess. I donât think Iâve done anything to wrong you.â He studied his nails as he talked. âFirst issue already is that dumbass nickname that you wonât stop calling me even though I told you endless times that I hate it.â âAw, but I think it suits you and your stuck up behavior.â He sneered and this made you meet his eyes with a fiery glare. âGo fuck yourself Min. Youâre one to talk about other peopleâs behaviors when you walk around like an arrogant ass. You have some fucking nerve.â The tension in the room was rising to levels that made it feel stuffy. Why the hell is it taking Jimin so long to find the lantern? âYou think you know everything about me princess, but you donât even know how wrong you are!â His voice was rising as he got up from the couch and he was now towering above your seated figure. âWell if Iâm so wrong why donât you prove it to me that youâre not some self-important prick.â
As soon as those words came out of your mouth his lips were colliding with your own and his fingers grasped your chin to keep you in place. You kissed back with the same amount of fervor and gripped the front of his sweatshirt. As soon as you let out a whimper of desperation, you heard the garage door open notifying you both of Jiminâs returning presence. Yoongi pulled away at light speed and took his seat back on the couch to keep the distance between you two. âWhat did I miss?â Jimin looked between the two of you with confusion spread on his face. You ignored his curiosity and retreated into your room before he could detect the flush spread across your face.
Since the power was lost the house became hotter as the night progressed and the sweatshirt you had was discarded for a cropped tank top and nothing more than panties for the bottoms. Your handheld fan lost power an hour ago since you decided to have it on full blast instead of trying to conserve the power to have it last longer. The sheen of sweat was building up on your skin and you went to the garage to get yourself a bottle of water to help cool down.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you opened the door and saw Yoongiâs figure in the garage too. âChrist, you scared the hell out of me!â You clutched your hand over your heart trying to calm your heart rate. Youâre too frazzled to realize that youâre standing in front of Min Yoongi in just your panties and that heâs shirtless and only boxers. He smirked and slowly approached you. You pedaled backwards until your back hit the wall and was cornered by him. His eyes roamed over your body and smirked. âYou know you drive my crazy princess?â You turned your face to the side to avoid eye contact, but his breath fanned your neck in the right way to make your heart race. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â You murmured through pouted lips.
He took a small step back with his arms crossed over his chest. âReally? Because the way you were whimpering for me hours ago just from a kiss says otherwise.â You flushed at his words and you were again cornered by him. He slit his leg between yours and his thigh was just ghosting the already damp spot you have in your panties.âWell I can give you a little reminder and more to jog your memory.â He raised his thigh and planted his hands on your waist to keep you place. The sudden sensation has you gasping and rutting your hips to get more friction.
âLook at you, youâre like a bitch in heat rutting against my thigh. Youâre so desperate for me already and I havenât even done a thing princess. I canât wait to fuck your shitty attitude out of you.â His words were starting to anger you. âShut the fuck up!â You were too busy chasing your high to even want to give him the time of day to his taunting. To this, he swiftly removed his thigh and went back to standing straight. You were distressed and looked at him with wide eyes. What is wrong with him? âYoongi what the fuck?â He wrapped his long, slender fingers around the column of your throat. âYou think you deserve to fucking cum? With the way youâve talked to me all these years I could edge you all fucking week. Donât tempt me.â You shivered at his words. His fingers slithered in between your legs and pushed your panties to the side to tease your clit. You released a breathy moan and threw your head on his shoulder. âTell me no right now and Iâll stop right now sweetheart. We wonât even have to talk about it ever again.â You shook your head against his shoulder. âI need words, that isnât enough.â âI want you to fuck me Yoongi. Now stop talking and do something.â The desperation was so evident in your words and thatâs all he needed to hear.
His dexterous fingers got to work and slipped into your sloppy cunt. The way his fingers pumped into you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. âF-fuck Yoon right there!â Your thighs were shaking and your pussy fluttered the closer you were to your orgasm. At the last second you were about to cum Yoongi slipped out his fingers and slapped your pussy. You were panting now with how worked up you were.
âTake the panties off. Now.â You obliged with his words and his dark eyes made you even wetter if that was even possible because you are the most soaked youâve ever been before. Nobody has ever made you feel as good as Yoongi is right now. Once your panties were off he dropped to his knees and stuffed his head between your legs. You propped up one of your feet on his thigh and he grabbed the back of your thighs to bring you closer. His lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking on it. Your moans were rising in volume and in pitch. His tongue dipping into your hole and licking your cunt made you feral. You gripped on to his hair and that sensation had him moaning against your core. That was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a strangled moan as you came all over his mouth. âFuck, you taste so fucking good on my tongue.â
You didnât even get a chance to regain your bearings before Yoongi's lips were on yours. The taste of him mixed with you had you groaning. His cock was straining against his boxers and he was rutting against your thigh and he nibbled on your lip and kissed you fervently. âNow youâre the bitch in heat on my thigh.â You chuckled, but Yoongi wasnât in the mood for jokes at the moment. He stripped off his boxers and the sight of his thick cock had you drooling. He tapped the back of your thigh twice and instructed you to jump up. You followed his instructions and his hands gripped your thighs as he pressed you against the wall. He angled his cock against your entrance and bottomed out in one go. This had you screaming out in pleasure and your nails dragged against his back.
He fucked into you mercilessly and reveled in the sounds you made. Knowing he was making you feel this good and scream out inflated his ego beyond the atmosphere. âTell me youâre only fucking mine.â He growled into your ear. You were so fucked out you could barely process his words. âTell. Me. Princess.â He punctuated each word with a deep thrust that had you seeing stars. âF-fuck Iâm only y-yours Yoongi! Only yours!â He grinned hearing this. The coil in your stomach snapped and brought you to your second orgasm of the night. âWho wouldâve thought the bitch with the most to say would be creaming all over my fucking cock.â Yoongi was groaning through his words and his thrusts were starting to get sloppy. After a few more strokes he pumped your pussy full of his cum.
You both were out of breath and panting and you winced when his softening cock slipped out of you. You both suddenly jumped at the sudden knock against the garage door. Jimins voice rang through the other side. âIâm glad youâve been able to reconcile, but you two are fucking loud!â You heard his footsteps fade away and you and Yoongi snickered at each other. Maybe Min Yoongi isnât as bad after all.
#thebtswritersclub#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts x reader#min yoongi#min yoongi smut#whirlwind au#suga x reader#suga x you#suga x y/n#suga fanfic#bts suga#suga
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A Single Daffodil || 6
Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 6.4K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: some angst, but this is a fluffy chapter so not much to say
Author's Note: hi everyone, i hope you're all well! sorry it took so long to get this out, i was really going through it and didn't have a lot of motivation to write, but this is finished now!! it's a lot shorter than i wanted it to be, but i decided it didn't matter and wanted to post anyway, so i hope you guys enjoy it despite the length (or lack thereof). thank you guys again so much for being so patient and understanding, you all are so amazing and i couldn't ask for better readers. i hope you enjoy the newest installment!
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Walking through the lobby of Yoongiâs apartment in what was essentially a morning after look left you with a new sense of embarrassment you hadnât felt before. You pointedly avoided eye contact with the security guard as you beelined to the elevator, hoping he couldnât make out the outline of a crumpled dress and lingerie in the bag hanging from your fingertips. The elevator takes what feels like an eternity to open its doors and once it does, you quickly ducked inside, repeatedly hitting the close button so no one else can enter.Â
Once you reached Yoongiâs apartment door, you breathed deeply, trying to calm your nerves before entering. You punched in the passcode, hearing the lock click and slowly turned the handle to crack open the door, seeing if you could catch a peek of Yoongi in the living room. Luck seemed to be on your side as the couch was empty, and you darted past the door, speed walking to the stairs to get changed. Making it to your room felt like winning a marathon as you shut the door behind you and chucked your plastic bag at the floor. You didnât know what you wouldâve done had you run into Yoongi dressed in nothing but Jaehyunâs shirt, missing even undergarments.Â
While you showered and dressed yourself in comfier clothing, making a mental note to wash and return Jaehyunâs shirt as soon as you could, you contemplated how you should approach your conversation with Yoongi. You hadnât talked to him since Friday night when youâd caught him on top of Jimin. You ran multiple scenarios of how a conversation with him would go as you entered the shower, wondering how he would react to you saying that you had feelings for him.Â
Wait, is that what you were going to do? Confess to him? You werenât sure about that. You knew you wanted to be honest with him but not that honest. ButâŚif you asked him to remain exclusive or said that him seeing people other than you bothered you, wouldnât he be able to put the pieces together from that? You sighed, letting the warm water trickle down your face, pushing your hair back against your scalp, at least not confessing would save you an iota of embarrassment.Â
You finished showering rather quickly, a bit too quickly for your own taste, you wanted to delay this inevitable conversation as long as possible. Picking your clothes was simple enough, aiming for a comfy outfit with a simple sweatshirt and leggings, noting the chilled air in the house.Â
Finally, you were ready. Physically, at least.Â
Emotionally? You wanted to crawl under your bed. But that wasnât an option, or so you told yourself, as you combed your hair and stared yourself down in the mirror.
You could do this. How hard could it be?Â
A glimmer of gold caught your eye on your desk and made you hesitate, seeing your ring sitting patiently on the flat surface. You reached for it, reasoning that if you wanted to commit to Yoongi, you should be wearing it. The cool feeling of the metal sliding onto your finger was grounding, something you needed for the conversation you were about to have.Â
Reaching for your door handle, you worried your lip over the fact that you still had no idea what you wanted to say. Should you wait until youâd formulated a plan? Or until you felt properly ready? No, youâd never talk to him at that rate.Â
As you opened the door, you stumbled back in shock, seeing Yoongi already standing there, looking disheveled and exhausted. He seemed equally surprised that youâd opened the door, showing in his slightly open mouth and wide eyes. You noticed the dark circles sinking in under his bloodshot eyes and messy bangs adorning his forehead, his lips were chapped and parted. Was he alright? But thatâs not what was important right now.
âYoongi-ssi,â you stuttered, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, âWhat are you doing here?â
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through already messy hair, before looking at you directly, âI wanted to talk to you. About Friday,â he paused, âAbout everything.â
Great.
âOh, okay, I actually wanted to talk to you too. Why donât you come in,â it felt awkward gesturing for him to enter your room but he looked like he was about to fall over any second and you didnât want to risk him getting a head injury. Guiding him to your bed, you watched him sit before pulling your desk chair up so you could face him.Â
âWould you like to start,â you asked, trying to meet his downcast gaze.
âNo, no, I want to hear what you have to say first,â he said quietly.Â
âOkay, well, firstly, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted on Friday,â you started, holding up your hand when you saw Yoongi begin to protest, âIâm not apologizing for being upset, Iâm apologizing for taking it out on you. In our agreement, you were allowed to pursue other people and I shouldnât have reacted that way, at least, not externally. You didnât really do anything wrong. But, to clear the air, I want to explain why I reacted the way I did.â
This was going well so far, or at least, thatâs what you were telling yourself. Yoongi seemed surprised but only nodded for you to continue, so you did.Â
âTo be completely honest, Iâm not really okay with us having an open relationship, I donât like the idea of you with other people or me going out with other people, it feels,â you weighed your words carefully, âIt feels disrespectful, at least, thatâs how I see it. But, I shouldâve made that clear when it was first brought up, so thatâs on me.â
Yoongi shook his head, but you continued on, feeling like you were unable to stop talking now that youâd started, âHonestly, this entire relationship has felt kind of one-sided. I donât like how you get upset at random things or draw a line between us so harshly. I understand that this wasn't ideal for you, Iâm not asking you to fall in love with me, but I do want us to work together.â
âI want us to try and at least be friends to start, I think we started off too hostile,â you continued, feeling like you were building to a crescendo.
âTo be totally transparent,â you took a deep breath, was this really what you wanted to do? There could be devastating consequences, but you felt in your bones that you wanted to be completely honest with him. You satiated your nerves by reminding yourself that you had your own apartment to go back to should Yoongiâs reaction be extremely negative.
âEven before we got married,â another deep breath, you could do this. This wasnât such a big deal, you didnât even have very deep feelings for him, they felt superficial. So with that logic, you told yourself, a rejection wouldnât be the end of the world.Â
âIâve had a sort of crush on you,â there was no turning back from here. You had told yourself you werenât planning on confessing, yet here you were, baring your soul. Your eyes were turned downward, afraid of seeing Yoongiâs reaction, the only thing you heard being a surprised exhale at your statement. Your fingers entangled with one another in a nervous tic as you slowly lifted your gaze to meet Yoongiâs.Â
His eyebrows were knitted together, in what expression, you werenât sure. His eyes held an emotion you couldnât read. His mouth was pursed in a sentiment you couldnât decipher. Why was he so difficult to read? Why couldnât you tell what he was thinking? It only made you more nervous. You had tried to quell your fears by telling yourself that your feelings were too shallow to warrant being so upset at a rejection, but you knew that it would still be devastating to you. When did your heart ever listen to logic?
As you sat in a silence that felt like it lasted minutes on end, Yoongi finally opened his mouth.Â
âI didnât know,â he stated, you still couldnât read his expression. Was that all he had to say? You could feel your heart sinking into your stomach and your eyes begin to well with tears.Â
âYeah, well, I didnât exactly want to announce it,â you retorted, feeling exposed and upset. You had confessed something of this caliber and that was all he could say in response? It was angering and you could feel the control you had over your expression slipping from your grasp. You turned away from Yoongi, attempting to steel your outward appearance, not wanting to let him see how much he affected you.Â
A hand caught your arm that was reaching up to run a hand through your hair, making you face Yoongi once more. His eyebrows were more scrunched together than before, making him look upset, but you couldnât be sure.Â
âY/N, Iâm sorry, I want to say more, itâs just a lot to process,â he said, biting at the chapped bits of his lip, making your eyes catch on the movement. You quickly averted your gaze back to his own, waiting for him to speak.Â
He released your arm, leaning back in his position on your bed, letting out a sigh, âIâve been thinking about a lot of stuff the past few days, and I want to apologize, for a lot. It was shitty of me to try to sleep with someone else, it was shitty of me to do a lot of things. You didnât deserve any of it. I shouldâve tried to get to know you better before we got married instead of imposing stupid rules, I shouldâve been nicer to you during the whole process, and I shouldnât have been so back and forth with how I acted towards you. Thereâs a lot I wish I had done differently, and I want to apologize for all of it.â
His words left you silent, mouth slightly parted in shock, not having expected such a genuine apology from his lips.Â
He took your silence as a sign to continue, âIâve probably been really frustrating to deal with, with how Iâve been handling this, but I want to make things clear, I definitely feel something for you too.â
Your ears felt like they were ringing, was this really happening? You hadnât even prepared yourself for this type of outcome, you werenât sure how to react.Â
âIt took me some time to actually come to terms with that because I didnât understand what I was feeling, but I can confidently say that I like you too. I want to make this work, I want to do this together, with you,â Yoongi finished, running a hand through his messy hair before looking at you once more.Â
You werenât sure of what to say exactly, your palms were growing sweaty and your mind felt blank. But you couldnât leave Yoongi hanging, you had to say something, anything.Â
âWe shouldnât try to start a relationship,â you blurted out, surprising Yoongi and yourself. But it was true to how you felt, with how things had progressed so far, you absolutely did not feel ready to jump into a relationship with Yoongi. The power imbalance felt too great, despite him just confirming that he had feelings for you too, you knew he could ask anything of you and youâd oblige. That wasnât a healthy foundation.Â
In addition to that, you didnât feel like you knew him well enough. You liked to be friends with people for a little bit before starting to date them, it allowed to get to know them without the pressure of a relationship, and usually only aided in your feelings towards them. Right now, you knew what you felt for Yoongi was too shallow to start a relationship that you would enjoy.Â
And the most important, you wanted to make sure you had an out. If a relationship between you and Yoongi didnât work out, you couldnât just stop seeing each other, youâd still be married. Youâd still have obligations to each other. You wanted to make sure that you and Yoongi could function as friends first, roommates at the least, before you jumped into a relationship that had the potential to end badly. If you knew that youâd be able to have a fall back plan with him, youâd feel much more comfortable going into this. It was a bad habit of yours, though, looking for a way out of situations before they had even come to fruition. You had tried to shake it, you really had, especially at the advice of your college counselor back when you actually got therapy, but it had creeped its way back into your routine.Â
Yoongiâs eyebrows furrowed, âWhy?âÂ
Biting your lip, you made sure to take an even breath, âWith how everything has been so far, I feel like itâd be better to start as friends. It feels too fast to jump straight into a relationship.â
Yoongi nodded slowly, âOkay, that makes sense. How about a compromise?â
Your attention quickly drew to his face, your eyebrows scrunching together in confusion and intrigue, âWhat do you mean?â
âLet me take you out on dates every now and then, we can go slowly so youâre comfortable,â he stated, sharp eyes carefully gauging your reaction.Â
You could feel your mouth open slightly in shock at his proposition, but your mind raced to consider the options, would you be able to handle dates with him? Would you even survive?
A new thought entered your mind, slightly unwelcome, but the fact remained that you didnât have to restrain yourself anymore. You didnât have to be concerned with whether you would survive dates with Yoongi anymore, because Yoongi liked you. It was mutual. There were no consequences to worry about, no reason to catch yourself, to monitor your feelings.
Because he liked you.Â
You silently nodded, still processing the entire situation, barely registering Yoongiâs returning nod.Â
âOkay,â he stated, a little breathlessly, âI should really go shower, so Iâm gonna do that.â He stood quickly, nodding at you, before rushing out your door. You werenât quite so far gone that you didnât notice his burning red ears, making you smile softly.Â
Hearing the door shut gently, you leaned back in your chair, exhaling loudly.
None of this felt real.Â
Did that really just happen?
You had spent so long pondering the possibilities and endless realities of Yoongi rejecting you, being disgusted, upset, or divorcing you that you didnât know what to do in the situation where he felt the same. Your mind was spinning and you felt yourself rise from your seat only to fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.Â
It felt like a dream, almost.
But the slight chill in the air, the feeling of the comforter beneath your fingertips, the distant sound of the shower running proved to you that it was real. A smile grew on your face as you sat in your thoughts, wasnât this the best case scenario? And it was truly happening.
Turning your head to the side, you glanced at the clock sitting on your bedside table. It was only around noon at this point, plenty of time left in the day. Noting the time made your stomach growl, berating your choice to have not eaten until now. You sat up, deciding to cook, leaving your room to head to the kitchen.Â
Cooking was a hit or miss for you, it really depended on what mood you were in, if you felt like cooking. You were in a great mood today, though, and it showed in your enthusiasm at wondering what you should make for lunch. Something light and easy, shareable. Because you wanted to share it with Yoongi.Â
You settled on kimbap, finding the necessary vegetables in the fridge and starting to chop them. When you were happy, you made spam kimbap, so thatâs what you made. A small little hum started up in you, influenced by the music flowing through your headphones, inciting a sway in your step and a tap in your foot. You hadnât been this content in a while, but it felt achingly familiar, a fond tug in your heart. You almost didnât know what to do with yourself without the lingering sadness or restriction on your feelings toward Yoongi.Â
You werenât sure if it had truly set in yet, the reality of the situation, but while it hadnât, you were going to enjoy the honeymoon phase of just having confessed to each other.Â
Flipping the spam on the stove, you quietly sang along to your song, using your chopsticks as a makeshift microphone in your muted movements. The last time you were able to relax like this, you recalled, was before you moved out of your apartment, after getting off a call with Hoseok and Joohee. The call had been a regular check in between the three of you and had left you in an exceedingly good mood and aggressively singing in your kitchen while making dinner. Your movements slowed and voice died as you thought about the past few months and how you had rarely had a moment of true content.Â
Your thoughts were constantly plagued by Yoongi and later, his actions toward you and what they could mean. You felt a wave of emotional exhaustion hit you now that your brain wasnât in overdrive trying to regulate your feelings and decipher Yoongiâs.Â
A glance down at the spam told you it was done and you quickly moved it to another plate. Turning around to retrieve the veggies, you were met with Yoongi standing silently at the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the pillar, making you stumble back.
âOh, Yoongi-ssi, you surprised me,â you breathed, pressing a hand to your chest before reaching for the veggies to lightly stir fry.Â
âMy bad, I shouldâve said something. What are you making,â he asked, walking over to you.Â
âJust spam kimbap,â you said shortly, keeping your eyes trained on the pan in front of you. You werenât used to him being this casual with you.Â
âY/N,â he called, drawing your attention to his form now leaning against the counter, âShouldnât we be more casual with each other? You still call me Yoongi-ssi.â
âOh,â you stuttered, âI suppose so.â This was maybe too much too fast.Â
âHow about it, Y/N-ah,â he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.
âUm, sure, Yoongi,â you said, trying to turn your gaze back to your vegetables, how did he switch up his attitude so easily?
You heard him chuckle quietly before you transferred your veggies to another plate.
âIs there any way I can help,â you heard him and you had to stop yourself from automatically rejecting his offer. You could change your attitude too, it couldnât be that hard. Hopefully.
âSure, would you mind taking the rice out of the cooker and into a bowl on the counter,â you asked, to which he quickly obliged.Â
This all felt a little too domestic, you werenât ready for this level of familiarity. It was a difficult transition, to say the least. You were used to maintaining apathy toward Yoongi, at least, externally. Your bodyâs natural instinct now was to turn away from him and mind your expression, it was tough to turn that off.Â
âWhy donât we both roll, itâll get done faster that way,â Yoongi suggested, innocently looking at you from the other side of the counter, unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you. Why couldnât you just relax around him?
âSure,â you stuttered, making your way to the table so you could sit and roll. Yoongi sat down next to you, not a care in the world it seemed, and began expertly portioning ingredients and rolling the kimbap.Â
You looked on in half-awe at his skill, your own hands slowing in their motions. Yoongi paused before looking at you, eyebrow raised.
âOh, sorry,â you said, feeling heat flood your face, âI didnât expect you to be so good at this.â
Yoongi only chuckled slightly before resuming his task, âYeah, Jin hyung and I used to make these during the holidays, Jeongguk too once he was old enough.â
The fondness in Yoongiâs voice made you smile, âThat sounds really nice. I can imagine Seokjin oppa being pretty strict in the kitchen.â
Yoongi laughed, a sound that was warm and pleasant to your ears, âYeah, I always thought heâd grow up to be a chef.â
You nodded, you thought so too, having witnessed the way he forced the kitchen staff at their home to let him join in the cooking and play expeditor whenever you visited Joohee.Â
You and Yoongi worked in a comfortable silence, entering a smooth rhythm of making the kimbap, ending with being delegated to slicing the rolls that Yoongi formed. Once you were both finished, you dug in, savoring the comforting flavor of the spam and stir fried vegetables.Â
Yoongi sighed into his meal, eyes closed, âItâs been so long since Iâve had kimbap, especially homemade.â
Your eyes traced down his side profile, noting his rounded out cheeks from food and contented smile, âYeah, itâs nice every once in a while.â
Yoongi opened his eyes, looking at you, âYeah, it is.â
You felt embarrassed as your cheeks warmed from his eyes on you, but you tried to maintain composure. It was clear, you decided, that his effect on you had only increased since your conversation.Â
It would be difficult to remain just friends, but it felt a little easier now that you knew you werenât alone in your feelings.
âWhat?â
âAre you serious?â
Joohee and Hoseokâs voices blended together as they shouted over each other on the video call. You giggled, shaking your head, âI still canât believe it either.â
âThatâs great, though, right,â Joohee asked, spooning another mouthful of noodles into her mouth, muffling her voice, âThis is what you wanted right?â
The million dollar question. It was, wasnât it? You felt content, and you were confident in that feeling for the first time in a while.
âYeah,â you smiled, âIt is. Iâm happy that weâre starting as friends.â
âY/N-ie,â Hoseok said softly, âYou look so happy. Iâm happy for you.â
âThank you,â you smiled, squeezing the Pokemon plushie in your arms, âIt feels really nice.â
Joohee sighed, âDamn, youâre making me feel really single.â
Both you and Hoseok laughed, making Joohee choke slightly on her ramyeon. Even while you were telling your friends, it still didnât feel real. Your head felt foggy almost, like you were in a dream, but youâd pinched yourself multiple times since this morning to confirm your consciousness.Â
âSo why did you decide to just be friends? Wasnât being together for real the whole point,â Joohee said after swallowing her noodles.Â
You paused before answering, unsure of quite how to phrase it. To say you thought it through extensively before youâd proposed only friendship to Yoongi would be a lie, it came out of you before you could stop it. It was something you knew you needed to do, to make sure this was going to last, relationship or not. You hadnât thought it out beforehand mainly because you hadnât considered this outcome a possibility.
âI needed an anchor, I guess. I needed to know that this could work even if we didnât get together, because weâre still married. And, I wonât deny it, I wanted to take it slow. I guess my feelings for Yoongi have been really shallow and I want them to be a bit more before we jump into a relationship,â you said, âI donât know. Maybe that was the wrong move.â
âIt absolutely wasnât,â Hoseok said, sending you an encouraging smile through the screen. You could see the moving boxes piling up behind him now that heâd finally found an apartment he liked and was close to his future studio.
Joohee nodded in agreement, âYeah, itâs better to start off as friends and work your way up. This relationship is already so unconventional, itâs good that you guys will be starting in a more grounded way.â
You smiled, the feeling of your friends backing up your decision made you feel more confident.Â
âAre you feeling ready to go back to work tomorrow?â
Your smile slowly faded, thinking about the pile of work awaiting you after two weeks of absence.Â
âYeah, Iâm excited to have something to do,â you started, fiddling with the pen at your desk, âBut our main project got delayed by the devs again, looks like some performance issues after beta testing. We still have to move ahead so weâre in the late promotional phase now, looking at some influencer endorsements. I was thinking of asking Jeongguk, actually.â
Joohee grinned, âYeah, that rascal will totally say yes. Heâs smitten with you!â
You felt heat take over your face as you stared incredulously at Joohee, âWhat do you mean?â
âHe just really likes you! I donât think he has a lot of gamer friends, at least that he knows in person, so I think heâs just really excited to have you as a friend,â she explained, pushing her bowl to the side.Â
âHe told me he likes older women,â Hoseok said bluntly, making you choke on your sip of water.Â
âWhat,â Joohee exclaimed, bringing her face much closer to the camera, âWhen did you talk to him?â
âWe talked a bit at the wedding, he heard me mention the dance studio so we exchanged contacts because he was interested,â Hoseok detailed, âI mentioned offhand that it was hard to find a date in Seoul and he asked what my type was. Then he just said that he liked older women when I asked him the same.â
You stifled a laugh while Joohee didnât hold hers back, making Hoseok join in too.
âLooks like Yoongi has some competition,â Joohee giggled.
âAs if! Iâm not into younger guys,â you wrinkled your nose.
âExcept for that one hookup in our fourth year,â Hoseok interjected, âWasnât he a first year?â
You groaned, covering your face, âI didnât know! He looked a lot older, and I thought we agreed not to mention that anymore!â
Hoseok and Joohee continued laughing, and even though it was at your expense, you couldnât help but join in. The weekend had certainly been eventful, but closing your Sunday afternoon with the comfort of your friends left you feeling quite pleased.Â
After ending the class with Hoseok and Joohee, you scrolled on your phone for a bit, catching up on unread messages and emails.Â
Jiminâs apologetic message stood out to you and you finally typed out a reply, quelling his concerns and promising that he had done nothing wrong. You hadnât mentioned the incident to Hoseok in case Jimin felt uncomfortable with it, so you were confident that the two of you could move past this easily. You also didnât want things to get awkward between him and Hoseok right before they started up the studio.
A soft knock on your door drew your attention and had you get up from your relaxed position on your bed, opening the door up to Yoongiâs form.
âHey, I just wanted to see if you had any plans for dinner,â Yoongi said, biting his lip and knitting together his eyebrows. If you didnât know any better, he almost looked nervous.Â
âNo, I donât, did you have something in mind,â you asked, inviting him inside your room.Â
âOh, well, thereâs a nice restaurant that I like to go to for some good comfort food, if youâre good with that,â he said, fingers playing with the thread on his black pullover, distracting your gaze.Â
âYeah, that sounds good,â you smiled, âIâll be ready in a few minutes.â
âOkay, great,â he said, a tad too loudly, before relaxing in his posture, âGreat. Iâll meet you downstairs when youâre ready. You can dress casually, by the way.â
âWill do,â you smiled, why did he feel so awkward? Maybe he wasnât as good at this as you had thought earlier in the kitchen.Â
He quickly left, nodding a short goodbye before entering his room and shutting the door. You did the same, turning toward your closet entrance, pondering what to wear. Casual, right?
Your finger dragged along the hanging clothing in the closet, brushing the different fabrics. You picked out a soft cotton t-shirt that you got from a work event and some jeans, settling on the simple look with a comfy oversized jacket.Â
Giving yourself a once-over, you deemed yourself presentable. You werenât sure if Yoongi was already ready and waiting downstairs, so you left and made your way down there.
Yoongi was waiting in much the same outfit as he was in before, but switched out his sweatpants for some dark, straight legged jeans and put on a black snapback. He looked far more casual than youâd ever seen and it was a welcome sight.Â
He smiled softly at you before tilting his head, âReady to go?â
You nodded, slipping on your shoes by the door and walking out into the main hallway. Yoongi and you were silent on the elevator ride down to the garage. It felt a little awkward, but it was a different type of awkward than before. Where before you both didnât know what to say to each other, now it felt more like you didnât know how to say what you wanted to. You werenât sure if that was better.
When you got down to the garage, Yoongi led you to a sleek black sedan, opening the passenger side door for you. You sent him a slightly confused smile as you got in and he clarified, âThis is my personal car. I donât use it that much daily because parking can be a hassle at the office, but itâll be fine where weâre going.âÂ
âOh, okay,â you responded, this mystery destination had started to feel a little bit ominous. As he walked around the car to the other door, you clicked in your seatbelt, wondering where exactly you were going. Yoongi slid into the driver seat, seamlessly starting up the car and clicking in his seatbelt. You saw him turn towards you, hand outstretched for a moment, before glancing down and retracting his hand.
He cleared his throat before switching gear and pulling out from his parking spot. Yoongiâs driving was smooth and relaxing, making you melt into the leather seats and stare out the window at the sun beginning to set. Yoongi had started up some soft jazz on his speakers making you further enjoy the quiet ambiance of the evening drive.Â
After a little while, Yoongi pulled into a small parking lot, next to an empty grassy lawn near the Han river. Shutting off the engine, he quickly exited, speed walking around the car to open your door for you barely after youâd finished unbuckling. His dedication to chivalry made you chuckle softly, thanking him with a nod as you got out of the car.Â
While you were distracted by the sight of city lights reflecting on the Han river in mesmerizing shimmers in time with the water current, Yoongi gently led you to an outdoor eating area with some plastic covers keeping out insects and smoke rising from the kitchen near the back. Delicious smells of cooking meat and seasoned vegetables filled your nostrils and you inhaled gratefully.Â
Yoongi led you inside, nodding at the older woman by the counter and guided you to a two seater table in the corner. The older women quickly brought you drinks and side dishes, affectionately ruffling Yoongiâs hair before he prattled on an order of meats and veggies, letting you do the same after him.Â
While you waited for your food to arrive, you took a moment to observe your surroundings further. It wasnât what you were expecting, when Yoongi said he wanted to take you to dinner, but it was certainly welcome. The loud chatter and laughter from other tables fed into a cheerful environment and the gentle smoke from meat cooking made your stomach growl.Â
Yoongi seemed to be quite familiar with the staff as well, leading you to question him, âDo you come here often?â
He smiled, shrugging his shoulders, âNot as often as Iâd like to anymore. In college, though, Iâd come here all the time with Namjoon and Jin hyung. The ahjumma there has been running this shop for over twenty years, I think, and she knows me fairly well by now.â
The thought of a college aged Yoongi sitting at these tables with his friends and enjoying charred pork on top of a bed of perilla leaves, laughing at something Seokjin said, made you smile.Â
âAre you okay with coming here? Instead of a classier restaurant,â Yoongi asked, though he didnât seem to be afraid of your answer.Â
You shook your head anyway, âOf course I am, Iâve been craving some barbeque actually. Joohee, Hoseok, Mina and I used to go to these all the time in college too, but those were much closer to campus. The view is nicer here,â you finished, looking out onto the river through the almost see through plastic sheets.
âMina,â Yoongi questioned, looking at you.
âOh,â you stuttered, inwardly cursing yourself for letting that slip, âShe was my ex, back in college.â
Yoongi nodded, not seeming too taken aback, âMakes sense. Those kinds of meals always made those college exams worth it.â
âDefinitely,â you laughed.
The older woman approached your table balancing multiple trays and expertly set the food down in front of you. You didnât have to cook your own meat here, so you and Yoongi immediately dug in and began wrapping the meat and vegetables in lettuce and cabbage.Â
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while you ate, too preoccupied with the food to really focus on conversation. As you both eventually slowed your eating, Yoongi began asking you basic questions, wondering about your work, friends, and hobbies. You happily answered him, returning the favor by diving into his own interests and life. It felt natural, like two people just hanging out and getting to know each other.Â
You found that this was the most relaxed youâd felt in Yoongiâs presence so far, and it was definitely something you could get used to. Watching his cheeks puff up when he ate, his eyes close as he savored the flavor, and his smile as you answered his questions made you feel warm and lucid.Â
You soon finished up and Yoongi stood to go pay, even though youâd offered.
âYou can get it next time,â heâd said, smiling down at you. That made your cheeks flush and you had to look away from his gaze.Â
The drive back to the apartment was calm and serene, the scenery of the river blowing by through the window. Your arm rested on the surface between the two front seats and you flinched slightly when you felt Yoongiâs elbow touch yours. His eyes remained forward but you spotted the red tinge to his ears, betraying his indifferent exterior.Â
It was cute, you decided, chuckling quietly. You left your arm in its position, pressed against Yoongiâs.Â
It was nice.Â
Yoongi collapsed onto his bed, breathless. Had this weekend even been real? The rollercoaster of emotions heâd experienced had left him reeling, from unimaginable guilt and self hatred to elation that you harbored feelings for him to a calm and quiet first date with you.Â
He flipped over in bed, sighing into his pillow. It felt unbelievable what had happened in the past two weeks since heâd gotten married. Heâd been so headstrong in protecting himself and drawing harsh boundaries, dealing with the confusion of growing affection for you from when your families had dined together all those months ago to now.Â
As he donned his clothes for bed, he recalled your earlier proposition. To start as friends, he mused. It didnât seem like a bad idea. Yoongi was well aware of the wrongs heâd committed against you and he was determined to make up for them.Â
He wanted to take the opportunity to show you that he was a good person, despite how you two had started off.Â
It wouldnât hurt, either, that itâd give Yoongi the chance to get to know you better, something he was desperate for. He thought back to your dinner by the river, the way your skin glowed in the soft yellow lighting, tendrils of smoke framing your face, and the flush of your cheeks due to the warm atmosphere.Â
Youâd looked ethereal.Â
Heâd thoroughly enjoyed your conversation, reveling in being able to learn so much about you. You were slowly opening up and it was exciting, heâd been craving getting to see more sides to your usually stoic nature.Â
Earlier that day, after your climactic conversation, heâd spotted you in the kitchen after his shower. You were humming along to a song heâd assumed was playing in your headphones, your hips were swinging gently, and your foot was tapping along to the beat. Heâd stood there for a while, admiring your form loose and relaxed in front of the stove.Â
Heâd never seen you like that before, but he decided right there it was a sight he wanted to come back to every day.
It would a lie to say Yoongi wasnât nervous about how quickly his feelings for you were developing. He had felt them building up during the wedding preparations, especially so during the rehearsal dinner and ceremony itself. But the way he was becoming overcome with fondness and affection for you was maybe a bit concerning.Â
Another reason why your decision to start as friends was probably the right one. Yoongi wanted to savor every moment of falling for you, and you falling for him. He wanted to catch your eye from across the room and make you smile, he wanted to bring redness to your cheeks and make your eyes dart away, he wanted to feel his heart race when you smiled at him, cuddle with you on the couch during a movie, and feel your palm against his as you walked the streets of Seoul.Â
As Yoongi fell asleep that night, he dreamed of a sweet and slow romance between you two and of daffodil petals in your hair.Â
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#yoongi#yoongi fic#bts yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts fic recs#yoongi x you#bangtan#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan x reader#bangtan fic#bts fic#bts smut#bts#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts x reader#bts x you#min yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#myg#myg angst#asingledaffodil
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GANGSTA | myg - 004
summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.
pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader
warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.
word count: 3.5K
authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. yâall best give me all the love since yâall wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if youâre new and wanted to be tagged iâm sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.
âNow, are you sure youâre okay? I can personally file a report for you.â Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didnât understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldnât be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.
You didnât go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didnât escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.
Luckily for you though, the old manâs guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. âIâm fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.â You assure him one last time. âAlright then. Iâll see you tomorrow.â
âSee you tomorrow.â You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Minaâs car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. âHey. Thanks for picking me up so early.â You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. âNo problem⌠But why am I picking you up so early? AndâŚâ she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. âWhy is your shirt ripped?â
You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. âI had to deliver at the Devilâs playground again, and got attacked.â You kept it short and sweet. Minaâs eyes widened in shock. âWhat?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!â
You shake your head. âIt wasnât him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved meâŚâ you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. âHe saved you?â You nod slowly in response. âMy god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?â
Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. âNo, he didnât ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.â You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. âPlease donât tell me youâre buddy buddy with that thug now?â
You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. âOf course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. Iâd never befriend him,â You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you werenât swayed by his heroic charm. âAnyway, enough about me and my shitty day, itâs too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?â You change the subject. Minaâs face drops at the mention of her boyfriendâs name. âYeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now weâre not on speaking terms,â She sighs. âI think maybe I should break up with himâŚâ
You frown. âThere she goes being the most dramatic againâŚâ
âMina, donât be so damn hasty all the time.â You try to reason with the blonde. âIâm not!â She defended herself. âIâm just tired, y/n. Iâm tired of trying to figure him out. Iâd rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.â
Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. âI donât know, Mina⌠I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, Iâd try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.â
Mina pouts, but she doesnât continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldnât just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. âYou know⌠Iâm jealous of your relationship with Kookie.â She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. âHuh?â
âIâm jealous,â she repeats. âOf you and Jungkook.â
You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. âWhy?â
Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. âYou two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We donât have the history you and Jungkook have.â
You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. âHistory isnât everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be matureâ or you at least.â Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. âWhat do you mean by âor you at leastâ?â
âI mean that sometimes youâre immature. You tend to freak out when things donât go your way and storm off like a child.â Mina snarls. âIâm not immature.â She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. âThanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.â
âOf course. Iâm mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.â She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. âBye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.â You pushed open the car door, climbing out.
âYeah, you and me both.â She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?
You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. âKookie?â
The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that itâs you, he smiles as well. âWell shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess thatâs a fail.â He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. âItâs not a fail. Iâm so happy to see you.â Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadnât seen him in weeks.
Jungkookâs tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. âIâm happy to see you too, angel. Whatâre you doing home so early though? I thought you werenât off till 8:00?â
You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadnât told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didnât want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. âI got attacked today.â You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadnât clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.
âBy who?!â He shouts. âIf it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to godââ
You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. âLetâs talk about this inside, okay?â The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. âI really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.
You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.
You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. âSo? Was it Yoongiâs doing?â
How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isnât the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didnât want that.
So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.
âI had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.â Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. âYou had a delivery at the devilâs playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?â
âI was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasnât letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.â The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. âI should go down there and kick that old manâs ass,â He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.
âDid they hurt you?â His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. âNo. Iâm fine,â You assure him. âThe only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.â You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. âDid they just let you go? Howâd you get free?â He pressed on.
âUmmâŚâ you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.
âSo Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?â
âThey got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?â
Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. âIâm glad youâre okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasnât there.â He frowns, leering down at your hands. âJungkook, youâre not gonna be able to be there for everything, and thatâs okay. Youâre here now, when I need you the most.â
Jungkook looks up at you. âAnd Iâll stay here.â
âPlease remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.â Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. âThe Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.â Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. âYeah, well next time Iâm picking the movie. Your selection sucks.â
You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. âTake that back.â You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. âOkay, okay. Iâm sorry⌠that youâre ass at picking movies.â You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunetteâs waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. âOkay, Iâm sorry! Iâm sorry!â You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. âI knew youâd see it my way.â
âHard not to when Iâm being attacked by a pillow.â He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkookâs hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. âYouâre so beautiful, you know that?â Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.
You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didnât hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real badâ and you did. Jungkookâs hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.
You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. âFuck, Y/nâŚâ he muttered in between kisses. âWe have to stop before I canât stop.â
âThen donât stop, I want this.â You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. âFuck, I canât.â He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you canât help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didnât get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.
Itâs silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. âY/nâŚâ
âSave it,â You cut him short. âYou donât want to have sex with me, I get it.â Jungkook shakes his head. âThatâs not true. I do.â He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. âSo then whatâs the problem? Iâm always practically giving signals that Iâm ready and youâre holding back. You have never done that with any girl youâve dated before me.â
âYouâre not any girl Iâve dated before you.â
âRight, Iâm y/n, the girl thatâs been your best friend for years and the truth is thatâs probably all you see me as.â Jungkook says nothing, he doesnât even bother to argue because thatâs just something he hates doing with you. âI uh⌠I should go.â
âThen go.â You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You donât look his way, you just continue to stare forward. âYouâre not any girl Iâve dated before you.â He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.
Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkookâs bouquet of flowers sat.
âWell well well, look who made a full recovery today.â You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. âY/n, itâs good to see you too.â He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. âI have a bone to pick with you once youâre done here.â You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.
âY/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?â Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. âItâs a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?â You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadnât even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.
âWell, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?â He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. âIâm fine, Mr. Kim.â You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.
âHey, um, thereâs someone out there at table three thatâs requesting for you to take their order.â He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. âRequesting me? Could it be Jungkook?â You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didnât see why he couldnât have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didnât argue with the gesture.
âOkayâŚ?â You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you donât see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you donât know. Thatâs why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. âWhatâre you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?â You snap at Yoongi.
âNice to see you too,â the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. âYesterday is the reason Iâm here in person, sweetheart. Wouldnât want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.â He smirked. âYou remember my boy Joon, donât you?â
âWonder Woman, itâs good to see you again.â You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didnât have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. âSo are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?â
âDepends⌠are you on the menu?â He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongiâs other two minions snicker and youâve decided youâve had enough of this pig fest. âOkay, goodbye.â You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. âIâm just joking around, sweetheart. Iâm here to ask you something.â You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. âAsk me what?â
âWell, Iâm having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.â You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. âWhat on earth would make you think Iâd dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think Iâd go to your shifty ass warehouse?â
âWell, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.â You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. âI knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I shouldâve expected that from someone like you.â You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.
âPrincess,â He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesnât fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundariesâfor once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. âItâs not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.â
âIs that so? Because it truly didnât seem like it just a second ago.â You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a âtskâ sound before continuing on. âSweetheart, if thatâs all I wanted from you then I wouldâve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,â His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.
âListen⌠sometimes I have these kickbacks, and theyâre a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.â His voice is soft, so soft that you didnât think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. âI donât think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.â
âSo donât. Iâll pick you up.â
You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didnât know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet⌠here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongiâs eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the ravenâs eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?
âHey, can we get the check please?â A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongiâs. You had almost forgotten you were at work. âLook, I have to get back to work. Iâll⌠Iâll let you know.â You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.
âI look forward to hearing from you, princess.â
Taglist
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#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fanfic#bts min yoongi#min yoongi x you#min yoongi smut#suga min yoongi#yoongi min#yoongi x y/n#bts yoongi#suga x you#yoongi smut#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#min suga#bts suga#suga x y/n#suga fanfic#suga x reader#suga smut#suga fic#agust d x reader#agust d#agustd#mafia yoongi#mafia bts#bts x reader#bts x female reader#bts smut
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~ the boyfriend pictures series
boyfriend pictures
#min yoongi#min yoonki#yoongi min#min yoongi fanfic#bts yoongi#yoongi#yoongi moodboard#yoongi aesthetic#yoongi au#yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi x oc#yoongi scenarios#yoongi drabble#yoongi fanfic#yoongi headers#yoongi headcanons#yoongi lockscreens#yoongi icons#yoongiedit#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#bangtan aesthetic#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x oc#suga#suga bts
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blame the government
One Shot - Min Yoongi
Pairings: GovernmentWorker!Yoongi x Reader
Summary: Â "suck a d!ck and choke on it!â you told that annoying Min Yoongi guy. But why are you the one on your knees now?
Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! Minors do not interact.
Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Swearing, Oral
Au/Genre: Small town au, Smut
Word Count: 4.3K
đ a/n: inspired by when i was processing some papers a few days ago and everything was just pure hassle ughâŚanyway, this is just smut.. umm.. im ovulating lol sorry not sorry
đ Masterlist / AskMe!
Youâve always known youâre a city girl at heart, despite being born and raised on a small island. Although you look forward to visiting your parents at least once a year, youâve never seen yourself settling into the slow, quiet life of your hometown.
The island looks like a postcard come to lifeâpristine waterfalls, lush mountains, and white sand beaches, itâs the perfect vacation destination. Everyone knows everyone.
And while you love the sense of community that comes with it, youâre not a fan of how everyone seems to know everyoneâs business.
People tend to be nosy about everyone's life. You let Jake walk you home in the morning, and by lunch, everyone thinks youâre dating. By supper, youâre pregnant.
Life in the city has been everything y ou needâa good-paying corporate job that lets you work remotely, a cozy apartment nestled among great cafes, and a small but tight-knit circle of friends.
Despite the crowds, the city offers you something the island never could: anonymity and the freedom to just exist. Here, people are too busy minding their own lives to pry into yours, and that space feels more liberating than the island's open skies, ironically.
Itâs a nice place to visit, but never a place to stay.
So when your parents called one day asking you to come home and take care of their small gift shop while your dad recovered from an illness, you hesitated. First, youâd miss the coffee shops around your apartment because, letâs face it, they donât have those on the island. Second, you had no idea how long youâd be gone, unsure of how long it would take for your dad to fully recover and get back on his feet.
But you love your parents and would do anything for them.
So, you packed your bags, hoping a month would be enoughâafter all, thatâs all you packed for. You handed your apartment keys (duplicates) to your friends so they could check in for emergencies, then hugged them goodbye. You promised to stay in touch through video calls and regular updates, but deep down, you knew it wouldnât be easy. Between different work schedules and the islandâs crappy reception, staying connected was bound to be a challenge.
The moment you arrived on the island, you took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. You always did thisâit was one thing you genuinely missed about the place. Your mom picked you up from the airport and hugged you tightly.
In a regretful tone, she said, âIâm so glad youâre here. Iâm sorry you had to come, honey. Your dadâs condition is getting worse by the day, and I just canât keep running the shop on my ownââ
âMom, itâs fine,â you cut her off gently. âIâm glad Iâm here, and Iâm sorry about Dad. Heâll be okay. Everythingâs going to be okay, alright?â
She had been so apologetic about the situation, knowing how much you disliked staying too long.
The first few weeks were a whirlwind. Your mom showed you the ropes, and while youâd helped out in the pastâmanning the cashier or receiving ordersâit was an entirely different challenge to actually run the gift shop. Thankfully, Namjoon, your childhood friend, your parentsâ âunofficial son", and also your co-manager, had been helping you a lot. Working with someone close to both you and your parents made everything feel a little more bearable.
Managing the shop was exhausting, but when you were told youâd need to process some paperwork at the town hall, you realized things were about to get even harder.
After a grueling one-hour drive, you arrived at the town hall, immediately noticing the long queue at the Business Licensing Office. It took a frustrating 40 minutes before your number was finally called. Approaching the front desk, you explained the reason for your visit and handed over your documents.
The staff scanned them and, after a moment, informed you that your documents were no longer valid and that you would need to restart the entire process from step one.
You told her, "This doesnât make sense.â
She glanced at it before replying, "Itâs a new rule from the mayorâs office. Iâm sorry."
A beat.
You couldnât believe this. This was ridiculous. You werenât one to make a scene, but it wasnât unreasonable to ask for a manager when there was a legitimate issue, right?
Before you knew it, you firmly said, âIâd like to speak to your manager. Or your head. Or whoever is in charge of this department. Right now.â
The poor girl eyes widened with anxiety. âThis is the process, maâam. Iâm sorry.â
âI understand,â you said, holding your ground. âBut I still need to speak to someone in charge.â
She left and went to the door behind her. After a few minutes, she got back and told you to follow her inside the room.
When you step into the room, you see a man with a dark hair behind a massive desk, his attention absorbed by a mountain of paperwork. The sound of your footsteps barely registers as he flicks his gaze up briefly, then returns to writing, his face impassive.
"Please, sit down. I'm Min Yoongi, the head of this office. How can I help you?" His tone is firm but detached, like he's got somewhere else to be, like you're an interruption heâs forced to deal with.
You take a breath, steeling yourself, and sit across from him. "I understand you have a new process in place, but this doesnât makes sense and its making everyoneâs lives difficult," you say, voice steady but the frustration you've been carrying slipping into your words.
He doesnât even look up. "Could you elaborate on which part of the new process is making everyoneâs lives difficult?" His voice is flat, uninterested, as he continues to scribble.
You clench your jaw. "Your staff told me I need to go back to step one. When was this new process implemented, and why wasnât anyone informed sooner?â
âThis new rule is from the Mayor's office,â he replies, still focused on his paperwork, his tone detached. âIf you have a problem with it, you can take it upstairs.â
His words hit you like a slap in the face. "No," you snap, leaning forward. "You are the head of this office, right? Then you take it upstairs." Your voice cracks with barely contained anger.
His eyes flick to you for a split second, then back to his papers. "Iâm just following orders from above."
"Just blindly following orders? Even when theyâre nonsense?" Youâre seething, barely keeping it together. "Do you swallow whatever they feed you without question? No backbone at all?" Words spilling out before you can stop them.
This time, you have his attention. He sets his pen down, finally looking at you. His gaze is sharp, amused, as though heâs studying you.
"I'm sorry, I didnât catch your name," he says, his voice almost calm, like heâs trying to reset the tension in the room.
"YN," you cut him off, not in the mood for pleasantries. Youâre done with the small talk. "Letâs cut to the chase."
YN," he repeats slowly, almost savoring your name. "As I mentioned earlier, this new rule originates from the Mayor's office. It has been enforced by higher authorities, and unfortunately, it's beyond our control."
"But does it make sense to you?" You almost hiss the words. You are so frustrated you feel the heat in your ears. "If it does, then Iâll walk out of here and do whatever bullshit youâre telling me, but I need to know if it makes sense to you."
His gaze doesnât waver, but something flickers in his eyes. "It doesnât," he admits, his voice low. "But what I think doesnât matter. My hands are tied here. There's nothing we can do. Trust me, we tried."
"So, you know itâs nonsense, but you still follow? And you call yourself the head of this department?" You feel acid in your throat. Your words burn.
"I am," he says, his voice suddenly colder. "Until the end of the week. After that, someone else will take over. You can come back next week and maybe get a different answer."
The indifference in his voice is like a slap. You stare at him, your mind spinning. Is this a joke? The sheer incompetence in this place is maddening.
You feel the anger rise. Before you can stop yourself, the words burst out.
"You know what?" You glance at the nameplate on his table facing you. "Min Yoongi? Suck a dick!"
You stand up, your pulse racing, and storm toward the door. But before you step out, you turn back, rage flooding your chest, and you spit the final words. "And choke on it."
You donât wait for a response. You slam the door behind you, the sound echoing down the hallway, your heart still pounding, your hands trembling with the anger.
Min Yoongi is a sensible man. Always the voice of reason, with a clear head on his shoulders. Heâs able to see every side of the story and offer solid advice when it counts.
And that's exactly why he's laughing nowâlike a damn madmanâbecause his staff is still standing there with her mouth hanging open after you stormed out. And here he is, laughing.
It was almost as if a whirlwind had just swept through his office. He cocked his head, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He was caught between admiration for your boldness and disbelief at your audacity.
But to be fair, he couldâve been nicer when he was talking to you. He couldâve put on a more customer service-y tone, you know? But honestly, he was just done. Done with repeating the same damn thing over and over this week.
When he was first told about the new process, he went to the mayor and laid it outâhow ridiculous it was, how they needed to delay it, give people time to adjust. Just like you said.
But if there's one thing working in government taught him, itâs this: You canât stop a system built on corruption and incompetence. You can delay it, maybe make it more palatable for people, but you can never truly change it.
And thatâs what he did. He tried to delay it, but the changes were final, along with many other decisions in the town hall. Thatâs why he resigned, and this week is his last.
Because honestly, they can all suck a dick and choke on it.
You went home that night and told Namjoon about everything that went down. He was wide-eyed the entire time, laughing at your boldness.
He offered to take care of the paperwork for you, especially since he knew almost everyone in town. You thankfully accepted, but you'd have to manage the shop alone while he handled it.
After a stressful week, you decided to go with Namjoon to a beach party to unwind. It was a cozy little bar with soft lighting and a bonfire. The moment you stepped in, you felt your stress melt away, the sound of music, laughter, and chatter filling the air. It had been so long since you allowed yourself to just relax.
As you talked to Namjoon and his friends, you caught sight of someone across the room. Was that⌠The guy from the town hall? What was his nameâMin Yoongi?
He was sitting at a table in the corner, surrounded by friends, his eyes locked on you with a smirk that made you want to wipe it right off his face. He was wearing an oversized short-sleeve shirt with a tropical leaf print, paired with a black undershirt and accessorized with silver necklaces and bracelets. Ok??? Why he kinda look⌠hot??
Nah, you shook your head. It was just that you hadnât been with anyone in a while, plus you were ovulating. You quickly pushed the thought away.
He remained looking at you as he drank from his highball glass. You squinted your eyes at him in mockery, then rolled them.
Childish? Yeah, but you didnât think youâd ever be friends with him. Freaking rude!
But Yoongiâs gaze didnât leave you. He watched you talk to others, sipping on his drink. His mind went back to that moment in his office. That filthy mouth.
Thereâs a town fair this weekend, so you decide to close the shop and finally experience it. Youâve never had the chance before, and you're excited.
You head to the town with Namjoon and wander through the bazaar, checking out every stand. The town is alive with excitement and vibrant colors, and you can't help but feel joy.
You wore a short white sundress, feeling the warm breeze against your skin. Youâd bought flowers from one of the stands, excited to give them to your dad, and as you strolled with Namjoon, ice cream in hand, you couldnât help but feel the energy of the fair all around you.
Then, you spotted him.
Again.
It's a small town, after all.
Min Yoongi. Casual in a black tee, jeans, and a damn man bun. His hair tied up like that made you feel warmer than you should. He was strolling with his friends, laughing and flashing that gummy smile, looking effortlessly cool and youthful. But then, his eyes met yours. The smile shifted, twisting into a lopsided, cocky grin.
He gave you a once over and you shot him the same look and rolled your eyes.
Heâs annoying.
Heâs hot.
Yep, you are definitely ovulating.
The night came, and after giving your dad the flowers and setting aside the things you bought from the bazaar in the corner of your room, you head back to the fair with Namjoon to enjoy the festivities.
The town fair was already beautiful in the daylight, but when night fell, it transformed into something even more breathtaking. Lights twinkled like stars and the decorations danced with colors. It felt as if youâd stepped into a fairy tale.
You couldnât help but admire the effort everyone put in to make this happen.
Namjoon had gone off to grab more drinks for you, but he still hadnât come back. He was probably swept away or cornered somewhereâbro couldnât help himself when given the chance to yap. Left alone in the corner, you absentmindedly sipped from your red cup, lost in the festive buzz around you.
Then, you heard a voice. âI like this look on you.â
Youâd recognize that voice anywhere. That deep, almost raspy voice, slow drawl, lazily dragging out each word. Like someone whoâs drunk, but somehow his words are clear.
Ugh. Min Yoongi.
So you turned, eyebrows raised. âWhat look?â
âMouth shut.â He said, settling beside you, sipping his red cup, eyes scanning around.
You rolled your eyes. âWhat do you want?â
âSeems like your tall friend left you.â
âMind your business.â
âI am.â His gaze lingered on you, scanning your face.
You narrowed your eyes. âFor someone who didnât have much to say last time, you sure talk a lot tonight.â
He raised an eyebrow. âFor someone with a lot of filth to say, youâre pretty stingy with words tonight.â
You sigh as you face him. "You know, I kinda like that look on you, too."
He smirks, that lopsided, cocky grin spreading across his face, like he already knows what you're trying to say. "What look?"
You lean in, your voice low but dripping with mockery. "Mouth shut."
You couldnât keep your mouth shut. You tried to cover it, but good lord, you just couldnât. Because Min Yoongi is devastatingly good with his tongue.
After the heated back-and-forth in the open field, a quiet, simmering tension lingered between you two. Then, everything blurred. The next thing you knew, he was striding toward his car, parked far from the light, hidden in the shadows. Without a second thought, you followed him. Every step was deliberate, charged with intent.
Now, his face is buried between your thighs, your legs draped over his shoulders as you both occupy the cramped space of the backseat. You donât know how you ended here. All you know is that your dress barely clings to you, bunched up around your stomach, leaving your chest exposed, nipples hard and sensitive from all his sucking.
Your panties dangle desperately from one foot as Yoongi devours you with all his might.
 His tongue is relentless, lapping at your folds like a man on a mission, his grip on your hips so tight youâre certain itâll leave bruises. Heâs so incredibleâso fucking incredibleâthat your mind spins. Sure, youâve been eaten out before, but this? This is justâ
âOh my g-god!â Your fist tangle in his dark, silky hair as you grind against his mouth, desperate for more. He chuckles, the vibration against your core sending a shiver down your spine.
âSo fucking sweet,â he murmurs, his breath warm against your slick skin before flattening his tongue over your clit. The pressure makes you buck your hips and moan, your attempt to control your sound failing miserably.
âF-fuck, Yoongiâholy shit,â you gasp, as he slides his middle finger inside you, curling perfectly upward, his lips never leaving your clit as he sucks and licks with maddening precision.
He starts slow, teasing, and your legs tremble with overstimulation.
âYeah? That feel good, huh?â he rasps, his hooded eyes locked onto yours.
You canât form a coherent response, his name spilling from your lips between moans and profanities.
When he adds a second finger, it has your head tilting back, a loud moan escaping as he pumps into you steadily, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. Each curl, each flick, drives you closer to the edge, and youâre completely at his mercy.
âOhh god, fuuuckâIâmmmngh close,â you mewl, your legs trembling as your fingers tighten in his hair.
He doesnât stop, doesnât even falter, just lets out a low, satisfied laugh as he licks up the slick dripping from your center. His fingers pump into you faster now, each thrust hitting that spot, and the knot in your core coils tighter and tighter.
âGonna come for me?â he asks, voice husky and teasing.
You nod frantically, your breath hitching, unable to force the words past your lips.
âI asked you a question,â he growls, and gave you a sharp slap to your cunt.
âY-yes! Fuck, please!â you cry, your voice breaking. This motherfucker. But holy shitâthe sting makes you gasp, and before you can process the sensation, his tongue is back on your clit, relentless and unforgiving.
And then it happens. His fingers pump faster, deeper, curling just right, and with one last flick of his tongue, you shatter. You come hard, your body arching off the seat, thighs trembling uncontrollably as your climax takes over your body.
You havenât fully gathered your thoughts when his lips crash back onto yours, and suddenly, youâre tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss is deep and messy and before you know it, heâs pulling you up to straddle him.
Thatâs when you realizeâheâs still fully clothed. The contrasting sensation of his rough jeans against your bare thighs, while youâre so exposed and undone, is making you want more.
His tongue leaves your mouth to trail along your jaw, hot and wet, before settling on the sensitive spot of your neck. He sucks and licks, his hands palming your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, and you arch into his touch. Soft moans escape you as the heat pools more and more between your legs.
Your shaky hands reach for his belt, undoing it as he bucks his hips up to help you strip him. The moment his pants are out of the way and your wet, sensitive folds brush against his hardness, you instinctively grind along his length. The low hiss that escapes him is almost feral.
âFuck,â he groans, his voice strained. âYouâre gonna make me come like this.â
His head falls back, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw clenches. His grip tightens on your waist, guiding your movements. You can feel every inch of his hardness pressing against your soaked core, and itâs almost too much. The heat, the frictionâitâs unbearable. You grind against him with ease, your slick making each movement effortless, drawing shaky breaths from his chest.
The air is thick with the sound of your panting breaths and the faint creak of the car seat beneath you. Yoongi shifts just enough to reach for something, his movements deliberate. Then, thereâs a pause, followed by a low, frustrated groan.
âFuck,â he mutters. âI ran out of condoms, babe.â
Your body hums with heat, desire drowning out all reason. The words are out before you think.
âThen I want you to fuck my throat.â
His lips twitch into a crooked smirk, that infuriating cockiness flashing across his face as he sinks back into the seat, âYeah? Thought youâd never ask.â
Without hesitation, you slide off the him and onto the floor between his legs. The space is cramped, your knees pressing against the unforgiving surface, but none of it matters. You need him. He adjusts, settling deeper into the seat, giving you more room as he stares down at you.
âFuck,â he groans, his voice dropping an octave, his dark eyes following your every move. âLook at you. Knew youâd look so good on your knees.â
You donât respond. Instead, you reach for him, wrapping your fingers around his cockâthick, heavy, and already leaking. Pre-cum glistens at the tip, catching the faint glow from a distant streetlight outside the window. So big, so pretty, and you canât help but admire it before giving it a slow, deliberate pump.
âHoly shit,â he breathes, head falling back for just a moment before his hooded gaze snaps to you again. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers tangling through the strands��not pushingâyet.
You flick your tongue against the head, tasting the salt of him, and his hips twitch in response. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, letting him stretch your lips as you hollow your cheeks. A shaky curse falls from his mouth, his grip tightening slightly as you take him deeper.
âThatâs it,â he hisses, voice rough and dripping with disbelief. âKnew that mouth would feel fucking perfect.â
You hum around him, sending vibrations down his length, and a strangled groan rips from his throat. His hips jerk forward instinctively, and you glance up at him through your lashes, teasing as you pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around the tip.
âDonâtââ he chokes out, jaw clenching tight. ââfucking tease me right now.â
Your smirk is fleeting, because youâre already sinking back down, taking him deeper. You relax your throat, breathing through your nose as he fills your mouth inch by inch until he hits the back. His control finally snaps.
âGoddamn it,â he grits out, his voice strained. His hips roll forward, slow at first, as his hand holds your head steady. You let him take control, let him use you the way he needs. His movements grow harder, faster, fucking into your mouth until tears prick at the corners of your eyes and spit pools at the sides of your lips.
âYou like this, huh?â he growls, eyes locked on you as your nails dig into his thighs for balance. âFucking your face, letting me use that pretty little mouth?â
The words make your core throb, heat pooling between your legs. You gagged when he thrusts deeper, pushing your head down and holding you there. Tears streak your cheeks, your throat stretching as he groans, his voice rough and unrestrained.
âLook at you,â he murmurs, gaze dark and primal. âSo pretty for me. Choking around my cock like a filthy little slut.â
His words make you moan around him, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through his body. His grip tightens, his hips stuttering as his breathing grows ragged and uneven.
âBabyâshitâIâm gonnaââ
With one final thrust, he slams you down onto him, his cock pulsing as he spills into your throat. A guttural groan rips from his chest, his body trembling, shuddering through his release. You take everything he gives you, swallowing every drop as he holds you there, panting hard.
When he finally lets go, you pull back, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Your lips are swollen, your cheeks streaked with tears, and you look up at him with a smug little smirk.
Yoongi leans back against the seat, his chest still heaving as he catches his breath. A dark, breathless chuckle escapes him, and his fingers find their way to your face, gently wiping away your tears and fixing your messy hair lazily.
ââSuck a dick and choke on it,â huh?â he murmurs, that cocky grin plastered across his face.
You roll your eyes, but you let him pull you up. He helps you to your knees, his hands surprisingly gentle as he tucks himself back into his pants and you adjust your clothes. You both make a hasty effort to smooth your hair, stealing quick glances out the window to make sure no one saw.
Once youâre both settled, Yoongi leans in, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "Iâve got condoms at home, you wanna see?â he mutters, eyes glinting with mischief.
Exhausted, you roll your eyes again and flash him a playful grin.
You check your phone, and you see three messages from Namjoon.
Joonie: Wru? I got cornered by some friends Joonie: Yo! Cant find u! Joonie: Jimin saw u go with Yoongi to his car??? Are u guys fucking???
You almost choke on your own saliva when you read the third one.
Shit. This Min Yoongi guy is definitely going to be trouble.
#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bangtan#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x oc#min yoongi#yoongi imagine#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#bts fanfic#bts x you#min yoongi x reader#bts fanfiction#min yoongi fanfic#bts stories#bts fics#bts x reader#bts smut#bts fic#suga#yoongi fics#yoongi au#bts fic recs#yoongi oneshot#bts yoongi imagine#bts yoongi x reader#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi
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Obsidian | Series Masterlist | (myg)
âž Summary: You've never been able to forget a face. Neither has Min Yoongi. And you both remember the face of the man who ruined your lives.
âž Series Word Count:Â TBD
âž Genre:Â Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut
âž Rating:Â 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.Â
âž Series Warnings:Â Graphic depictions of violence and death, graphic depictions of blood and dismemberment, violent crimes, criminal enterprises, anarchist themes, semi-intense world building, sexually explicit content, explicit language, morally grey characters, themes of revenge and angst. This series is about people who are criminals and taking down a criminal empire that does not benefit them. They are not always good people. Dead dove do not eat.
âž A/N:Â Welcome to the new and improved Obsidian series. I have started the re-write of the original version of this and while those chapters are still posted and exist, once this story starts in full, I will remove those chapters so that this is the only existence of the story.
âž A/N 2: The sudden resurgence of this fic finally being re-written is inspired by the wonderful, beautiful, adorable Fish sticker gifted to me by @kithtaehyung. I hope you all love Fish as much as we do when you finally meet him in this story.
âž Disclaimer:Â All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Main Masterlist âžÂ Ask âž Tag List Requests âž Original Story âž
C H A P T E R S
PREFACE | RED
ONE: COMING JANUARY 1
#yoongi smut#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi fanfic#suga fanfic#suga bts#yoongi series#suga smut#bts fanfic#bts smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#min yoongi smut#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#mafia yoongi
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surprise | myg
this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.
âpairing: rapper!yoongi x reader
ârating: +18
âgenre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff
âwarnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DONâT trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw
âwords: 7.6k
a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple đ I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badlyđ so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!
A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldnât. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.
Back then everything was so new to him, he couldnât remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didnât know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldnât keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter.Â
It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side.Â
With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldnât get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact.Â
You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaosâthe people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasnât something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. Youâd have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.
Yoongi liked the city tooâhe enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didnât mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited youâsomeone who hated bugs and couldnât stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.
You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldnât say no.
It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him.Â
It was easy not to complain when Yoongiâs plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked.Â
Did you mention that it was still winter?
Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain.Â
You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongiâs warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed.Â
âYoongi, Iâm cold.â You whined.
âCâmon, itâs going to wear offâ He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt.Â
You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldnât see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to youâused to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himselfâbut it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasnât the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too.Â
âWhat if I catch a cold?â You mumbled over his shirt.Â
Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didnât even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? âItâs not that cold.â He said, not willing to give up.Â
You raised your head to look at him, frowning âSays the person whoâs still fully clothed.â
He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasnât going to back down.
âHappy now?â
âNo, itâs freezing out there!â You kept complaining âWhy do we have to do it without clothes? I donât mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.âÂ
You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent.Â
Yoongi scoffed, amused. âAnd I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.â He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. âCâmon, baby. I wonât see you for weeks, let me make love to you.â
You tried not to roll your eyes. âYou had been using that excuse the whole trip.â And youâve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you.Â
âBut isnât it true?â He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. âIâm gonna miss you.âÂ
You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didnât want to say no.Â
You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. âWe are gonna make such a mess.â You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.
âIâll take care of it, I promise.â He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didnât exactly know how he was going to âtake care of itâ, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.
As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongiâs job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didnât need him, you wanted him. He wasnât an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?
Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this.Â
Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didnât kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to âpull outâ that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldnât shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldnât forget how pale Yoongiâs face turned when you told him about it.Â
And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy testâonly this time, it was positive.Â
The one on your hand wasnât the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldnât be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasnât something normal or a simple mistake.Â
You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldnât be a good idea.
Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too. She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didnât even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didnât use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didnât want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit.Â
Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.)Â
The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.
Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasnât easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didnât look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you werenât far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldnât call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you werenât in the middle of a mental breakdown.Â
Your act wasnât convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.
You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help.Â
âYou are what?â Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.
There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. âJungkookâŚâ You said through gritted teeth.Â
âIâm serious.â He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. âI crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?â
âIâm serious, too!â You whined âIâm not kidding, I donât know what to do.â
He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body. âAre you sure?â He murmured. âAre you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-â
âJungkook, Iâm sure.â You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. âMy period is late and I took three tests, all positive.âÂ
He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didnât faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.
âWhat are we gonna do?â He said under his breath.
âWhat am I gonna do?â You corrected him, sitting next to him âYou are supposed to help me.âÂ
Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. âHow?â
âGod, I shouldnât have called you.â You rolled your eyes.Â
âNo, I mean, what do you want to do?â He said. âDid you tell Yoongi?â
âOf course not.â You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back.Â
âDo you want to⌠tell him?â He continued to ask.Â
You sniffed âI mean, I donât know how.â You pouted âIâm seeing him in two weeks, I donât know if I can wait that long.âÂ
He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkookâs life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. âHow did this happen?â He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him.Â
âIs it necessary for me to explain it?â You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder.Â
âDid you not use condoms?â He scolded you like he was your mother.Â
You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. âWe donât⌠use condoms.â You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. âIâm on the pill, I donât know what happened.â
On second thought, that wasnât something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. âCan you not call your doctor?â He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.
You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you werenât sure if your doctor could do anything about it.
âEven if I call her and tell her what's going on, itâs not like I can get a refund.â You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.
He raised an eyebrow. âWellâŚâ he began, dragging the word out. âIn some way, you could get a refund.â You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. âI mean only if you want to!â
You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasnât like the thought didnât cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldnât see yourself getting rid of the babyâor whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didnât want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?
You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. âThatâs the problem.â You murmured âI donât know if I want a refund.âÂ
Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words.Â
"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke.Â
A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. âI donât knowâŚâ Was the only thing you could say.Â
âBut do you know if Yoongi wanted⌠kids?â He said as if that was a forbidden word. âI mean, do you want them?â
It wasnât like you didnât know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his motherâs behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.
âWeâve talked about itâŚâ You admitted. âBut weâve never planned it, let alone now that heâs on tour.âÂ
Jungkook hummed, still thinking.Â
âBut you both agreed to have kids at some point.â He affirmed, and you just nodded.Â
It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation.Â
âFuck, donât cry.â Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. âCâmon, itâs okay, youâre okay. Nothing badâs gonna happen.â His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. âYou donât need to have it all figured out right now. Letâs go step by step, okay?â
You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. âOkay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.â He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic.Â
âHeâs going to ask why.â You said, your voice hoarse âWhat am I going to tell him?â
He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution.Â
âLetâs not tell him.â He proposed.
âWhat do you mean letâs not tell him?â
âIâm leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.â He kept going âSay that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.âÂ
Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldnât get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier.Â
You couldnât believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didnât know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.
âJungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. Itâs impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.â
âItâs not impossible, Iâm gonna help you.â He insisted âIf he texts you, you say youâre at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say youâre busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.â
âIt is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?â You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly.Â
âYou say it stopped working or something! Câmon, I thought you were smarter than me.â
You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldnât come up with another idea if his life depended on it.Â
âJungkook, if he suspects anythingâŚâ You raised a finger, digging it on his chest.Â
âHe wonât suspect a thing,â He affirmed confidently. âWhen have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, youâll have already decided to name your baby after me.â
You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasnât going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasnât the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it. Â
Jungkook's plan wasnât the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didnât have time to question why you couldnât wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldnât wait two more weeks to see you either.Â
Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadnât seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place.Â
âYou canât keep spending time away from me.â He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. âIâll keep you in my pocket if itâs necessary.âÂ
You sighed, knowing that you couldnât keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, youâll let it slide.Â
You didnât know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldnât even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasnât helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.
Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongiâs hand. He knew that you havenât said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right.Â
A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldnât keep declining glasses of wine forever, you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you werenât in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.
You werenât trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes.Â
âAre you sure you donât want to come?â He asked once again.
âYeah, I just need one night.â You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts.Â
âBut are you okay?â He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.
âOf course, why wouldnât I be?â The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldnât ignore it.Â
âI donât know⌠You look like you want me to stay.â
There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldnât say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didnât have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close.Â
âWhat makes you think that?â You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.
âMmm⌠The Disney movie kinda gives you away.â
You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. âI donât want to ruin your fun⌠You should go, I mean it.â
He scoffed âYou wonât, thereâs going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.â
âTheyâll miss youâŚâ
âYouâll miss me, too.â
âBut do you want to stay, though?â You asked him a whisper.Â
âOf course I want to⌠But you have to let me choose the movie.â He warned, automatically making you giggle.
Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldnât see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry.Â
When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didnât even know you could feel. It was certain that youâve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it.Â
Youâd stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings youâd tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.
A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place.Â
âAre you crying?â Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldnât say. âHey, hey, whatâs wrong?â He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.
âNothing,â You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. âIâm just⌠emotional, I donât know.â Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.
Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice.Â
He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off.Â
âHey, look at me.â He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. âI know somethingâs up, Iâm not a dummy.âÂ
You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?
âWhat do you know?â Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong.Â
He frowned at your tone. âWell, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost donât eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like youâre going to leave anytime soon, you look⌠sad? I donât know, baby, you tell me.â
You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didnât realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.
Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words.Â
âIs it because of Lily?â He said, making you dart your eyes at him. âYou donât like her being here?Â
You couldnât blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongiâs label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didnât faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous.Â
âYoongi, are you kidding me?â
âNo, Iâm not.â He defended himself. âThe last time I saw you we were fine, but now youâre here crying and I donât have a clue what I did wrong.â
Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadnât done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess youâd just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.
You sighed, defeated. âYou didnât do anything wrong.â You said âAnd itâs not about Lily, I couldnât care less about that⌠Itâs just that- ⌠YoongiâŚâ
âBabyâŚâ He said in the same tone as you, âWhat is it?â
As Yoongiâs gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. âYoongi, my period is late.â You confessed, observing Yoongiâs eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. âItâs been a week now, I donât know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a testâ
 âA test?â he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.
âA pregnancy test, Yoongi.â You said, trying not to roll your eyes. âI took three damn tests.â
âAnd what-... what happened?â He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.
The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.
âI mean, guess what happened,â you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.
Yoongi didnât know anything about pregnancy testsâheâd never needed to. Heâd always been careful, using protection with every girl heâd been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasnât familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.
Yoongiâs hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?
You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. âNo, no, no,â He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. âHey, thereâs no reason to cry,â He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. âCâmon, look at me.â His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.
âI donât know how it happened.â You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.
âThat doesnât matter now, why didnât you tell me?â He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like heâd just seen a ghost.
âI arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didnât know what to say. I still donât,â you admitted, your words barely a whisper.
âBaby, you donât have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.â He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.
âI know, but⌠we havenât planned for this,â you murmured, glancing down. âIt just⌠came out of nowhere.â
âWell, it didnât exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,â he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.
âBut it wasnât supposed to happen,â you whined, your voice muffled against him. âI didnât expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. Iâm stressed, Iâm lost, I donât know what to do⌠and I miss my mom.â The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didnât even notice the soft laugh he let slip.
âYou miss your mom?â he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.
âYes!â you cried, voice cracking. âI feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.â
He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. âBabyâŚâ he began, his tone soothing.
âYoongiâŚâ you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.
âYouâre right, we didnât plan this. But weâve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, Iâll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, donât you?â He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.
As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.
âBut⌠what do you think?â you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.
He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. âI mean⌠weâre not sixteen, baby. Weâre adults, weâre about to buy a house together, and we love each other.â
âWell, those are just facts,â you replied, searching his face. âWhat I mean is⌠do you want this, now?â
It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with youâas if that hadnât been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldnât help but feel excited at the same time.Â
âI've always wanted it, are you serious?â He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. âAnd I only want it with you, havenât I made it clear enough?â
Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational youâd been. There wasnât a world where Yoongi didnât want this, and there certainly wasnât a world where you didnât want it either.
âI want it, too,â you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.
âThen why are you crying, huh?â he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.
âBecause...â you said, struggling to catch your breath. âMaybe you didnât think it was the right time... Youâre on tour right now.â
He frowned, his expression softening with concern. âI wonât be on tour forever...â
âI know, but... weâre not married. What would your parents think?â
He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. âYouâre not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?â
âHow could I not?â you said, raising your eyebrows. âWhat if they force us to marry? God, I donât want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!â
He laughed even harder, shaking his head. âOh my god, baby, no oneâs forcing us to do anything!â He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. âIf we ever get married, it wonât be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.â He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. âBesides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy theyâll be once they know. Married or not.â
âYoongi, it canât be that simple.âÂ
âBut it is.â
You sighed, feeling like all the mess youâd made was for nothingâand thank God it was. Youâd been so caught up in your own despair that you hadnât realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried?Â
âYouâre right, it is.â You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him.Â
Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. âYou donât have to worry, baby, not with me.â
âI know.â You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. âBut I am-⌠I���m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.â
âOf course it does, it is.â He said âIâm terrified, too, but weâre together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.â
You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. âI guess you're right,â you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. âI just... needed to hear you say it.â
Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. âI love you, baby, donât you know that?â
You brushed your nose against his, nodding. âI love you, too, bubba.â
âCâmon, baby, stop crying.â He said, making you laugh.Â
#fic: so it goes#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#bts x reader#bts smut#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x oc#yoongi fic recs#yoongi imagine#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#bts masterpost#bts fic rec#yoongi bts#bts one shot
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HIIII GIRLY. I saw your drabble game anddd how about
"How could we ever just be friends" + yoongi djskskjs
just friends:
pairing: yoongi x gn! reader
genre: fluff || mild hurt with a lot of comfort || non-idol au
summary: maybe you were never just friends
word count: 1.2k
tags/ warnings: feelings, fluff, the smallest hint of hurt, theyâre actually just really in love and the m/c is slightly oblivious but yoon is a big old sweetheart
notes: OMG HEY!!!!! you didnât ask for a specific au so i did indulge slightly and made it fluffy and soft, hope you like it :D
drabble masterlist || all my other works
.ă . ⢠â . ° .⢠°:. *â ° . â.
There had always been something utterly unique about Yoongiâs existence in your eyes. He had been the first, and only person whose life had meant anything to you.
Youâd spent most of your life aimlessly wandering, taking each day as it came and only hoped it would get better the more you trudged through. Fingers letting go of the ropes of friendships youâd made and lostâpeople you didnât pay any mind to now that they werenât in your life.
You didnât miss them. Never thought of them unless they were right in front of you, if they never made themselves known.
But Yoongi had been different.
It didnât take his physical presence for you to wonder how he was doing. He didnât need to message first for you to ask how his day was. Dreams filled with another reality, what the two of you would be doing the next time you met, how sweet your name sounded from his lips. Or that sweet smile he would give you every time you stumbled over your words, too caught up in his eyes your brain malfunctions and you forget how to speak.
Thoughts consumed by him, feelings wrapping around the idea of his existence, soul dancing around his in this weird push and pull, not quite just friends but not really anything more.
Special, precious, perfect, Yoongi.
In all your years alive youâd never had a crush until that first moment you met. Never once thought of another human being in any other way that wasnât platonic. It felt as though part of your world had started to crumble to moment, youâd acknowledged how you truly felt about him, stuck in this endless dilemma. Because who were you meant to tell him about your feelings when he was your closest friend? What if he asked who it was? He knew you rarely went out, and you sure as hell would have told him if youâd gone on any dates. So, youâd been stewing in your own feelings for as long as you can remember, too scared to utter a word about what was really happening between the two of you.
Because, sure his touches lingered, warm skin pressed against one another until the heat has travelled to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him, too scared heâd see how flustered you were. And sure there was the nicknames, though that was something heâd started early on, and you had doubts he fell in love just as quickly as you did.
Sometimes it felt like he only smiled at you, and yet you could only assume it was because you were his best friend, a safety net for him as much as he was one for you.
But not once had he made it obvious he liked you any more than a friend. A fact youâd slowly decided you could live with.
Just like yourself, it wasnât very often Yoongi went on dates, you donât think heâs been on one in the time youâd been friends. Which makes this whole dilemma slightly easier to swallow, because at this moment in time you were probably the most important person in his life.
You got to live out your secret little fantasy, and he got a low maintenance friendship. The perfect exchange.
And truly you believed it would be like this forever, until that little dream in the forefront of your mind was shattered by someone else coming into his life, and the two of you slowly drifting apart.
That was until tonight.
It wasnât often you drank, never indulged in the fine whiskeys Yoongi would bring over to your place, stashed away in the cupboard when he wanted a little something before bed. However, Yoongi had come over with a cocktail making kit, saying heâd done some research because he knew how much you liked sweeter drinks.
And maybe youâd had a few too many, eagerly asking him to make you different drinks from the little book he had, excited as you watched him mix everything together. Utterly amazed by how good everything he made tasted.
You canât remember what youâd said, words tumbling out your mouth quicker than you could swallow them back down. The small, sane part of your brain slowly catching up to what was happening as you watch Yoongiâs face morph into something slightly more surprised.
âHow could we ever just be friends?â he shakes his head, scooting closer to you on the couch.
âBecause you donât like mââ
He holds a finger up to your lips, quick to silence you.
âDonât finish thatâ
A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, âbut Yoongiââ
He takes hold of your hands, thumb running over delicate skin as he looks at your face.
âNoâ he shakes his head, âlisten to me for a moment, yeah?â
Heâs calm, voice tender and smooth.
You nod.
âYouâre not forcing me into anythingâ he starts, âI thought I was being too pushy with youâ
You swallow.
âHuh?â your eyes widen slightly, âBut I could have sworn you didnât like me more than a best friendâ
The low rumble of a laugh vibrates from his chest, âBest friends donât look at each other the way I look at you. They donât hold your hand on days out, or wish they could kiss you when you make that sweet little face when you first wake up in the morningâ
âWhy didnât you tell me?â you murmur, âI really thoughtââ
âAnd why didnât you tell me, hmm?â he smiles, âfeelings are weird.â
You nod, outburst having helped you sober up slightly.
âWhat now?â your legs bounce a little, so far out of your comfort zone.
âWhatever you wantâ he reassures.
âIâm scaredâ it spills past your lips before you can think about it.
He tilts his head slightly in question, âAbout what? Commitment?â Â
You shake your head, frantic âI justâI donât know what to do Iâve never dated a person beforeâ
He gives you a gentle smile, âJust be you. Just like you are now, thatâs all I wantâ
âBut what if I want a kiss?â you inch a little closer to him.
âThen Iâll give you a kissâ
âWhat if I wanted a kiss when we go out to dinner with your friends?â
He laughs, âDoesnât matter when or where, Iâll always be willing to give you a kiss if thatâs what you pleaseâ
You chew on your bottom lip.
âIâve never actually kissed anyone beforeâ you say, shoulders losing their tension, because now this felt normal. Like how it always was with Yoongi, where you didnât need to have secrets or be scared about what he thought. Because for all the time youâd known him, he had always been by your side, and you hope it will stay like that for the rest of time.
âThen Iâll teach youâ he hums, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, âTry not to worry your pretty little head too much, I know what youâre likeâ
âButââ you worry.
âNopeâ he laughs, âWeâll work through this together like we do everything else, Iâm always here for you, you know that right?â
Your eyes flicker between his for a moment, words settling into your soul as you nod.
âAnd Iâll always be here for you too, just so you knowâ the corners of your lips curl up into a smile.
#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts#yoongi#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi fic#min yoongi imagine#bts non idol au#bts drabble
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Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5
â ËËË Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
â ËËË Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongiâs lifeâafternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. Youâre just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didnât want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life youâve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isnât the only one whoâs clumsy.)
â ËËË Alternatively: Itâs 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weightâan 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god youâre there to help him.)
â ËËË Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoonâs bestie
â ËËË Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) Thatâs it.
â ËËË Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), letâs fix that boner you left him with, and letâs soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue⌠itâs written in here somewhere
â ËËË Word count: 1.5k
â ËËË Posting date: December 15, 2024
â ËËË A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, thatâs probably why, lol. Lucky for yâall I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. đ Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ đ
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Â Masterlist
âFuck meâŚâ Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.
His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screenâmaxed out in its brightness settingsâis projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled displayâof which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.
He is so horny he might just die if he doesnât get off in the next five minutes.Â
Itâs your fault. Of course, it is.
God youâre so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.
He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closerâŚcloserâŚÂ and thatâs it.
Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)
He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 âcause itâd be hella annoying if he canât get hard because his studio is an igloo.
Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.
A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and heâs off to the fuckinâ races.Â
His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi.Â
Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. Theyâre a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if theyâre not hiding from him? For sure theyâre puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that heâs gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until youâre falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.
He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.
Back to the photo.
Huh. You knew what you were doingâsqueezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. Itâs diabolical. Pure torture.
Had you been here, heâs scooping out that breast, the one youâre holding out to him, so itâs hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick.Â
He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.
But heâs not there yet.
Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recallsâthe way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.
Your lipsâhe can still taste them if he focuses hard enoughâsweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.
If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. Itâs like youâve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe itâs the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch.Â
The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever.Â
Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality itâs he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.
Youâre not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesnât give a shit. He hasnât had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He canât even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because youâre so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly heâs coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck heâs still going, thereâs so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.
Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.
Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real.Â
Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.
AllKpop Scoop:
Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung
Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.
The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social mediaâeach one milking it for all it was worth.Â
Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldnât resist pairing her name with âinfamous idol Min Yoongi.â You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didnât come back.
The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.
And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasnât to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.
Thankfully, he hadnât been. Youâd be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You donât know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you donât try.
The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhereâa shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongiâs Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.
You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.
Yoongi.
You didnât hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.
âSarang,â he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Broâs really starting with the buttering up.
âWhereâs Han?â Was your first question.
âMy parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. Itâs better if heâs there for now.â
You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. âJust answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?â
âItâs a big fuckinâ lie,â he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. âNone of it is true.â
âSo itâs all bullshit?â
âYES.â he replies emphatically.
The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. âOkay.â
âOkay?â Thereâs a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasnât expecting you to let it go so easily.
âYes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.â You say, firm.
A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, âYes, maâam.â
A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo
See you in the next half! :)
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Friendcation (m) | myg | honeymoon special
You and Yoongi travel to Scandinavia for your honeymoon, well more like babymoon. You camp, fish, hike and enjoy nature as you always do, and you even go surfing!Â
â Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) â AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi. â Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff â Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) â Word count: 8.8k â Warnings (explicit): semi-public sex (in a caravan on a campsite), exhibitionism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, nudity, oral (female and male receiving), breast play (sucking, slight biting), hickeys, squirting, deepthroating, creampie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, pleasing kink â Authorâs note(1): another extra for friendcation is here! 𼳠I hope you enjoy this one too! đ â Read on AO3? [link] â¨
â previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next (soon) â
When Yoongi revealed that he had already booked your honeymoon, you envisioned a sun-soaked paradise where you could bask in the golden warmth, bathe in crystal-clear waters, and revel in the essence of summer. But instead of tropical shores, you found yourself in the rugged mountains of Norway, on the cusp of autumn, where nature whispered secrets in the crisp, cool air. Yoongi had chosen this destination, a place forever etched in his heart from a trip with friends many years ago. He longed to share its raw, breathtaking beauty with you, and as you stood there, surrounded by towering peaks and pristine wilderness, you had to admitâthe splendor was undeniable. Majestic mountains embraced the horizon, and the forest teemed with lifeâgraceful deer gliding silently among the trees, playful squirrels darting about in a dance of their own.
For nearly a week, you nestled in a quaint cottage deep within the mountains, cocooned in the serene tranquility of nature. Each day, the world seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor every moment in this hidden paradise. But now, a new adventure beckons as your journey takes you onward to Denmark, with the enchanting landscapes of Sweden to explore first. The anticipation of Swedish forests, mirrored lakes, and ancient woodlands fills you with a quiet excitement, promising more adventures and moments of serene beauty.
The weather is a delicate dance between warm sunlight and the early September chill, hinting at the approach of autumn. Your journey from Norway to Sweden unfolds by bus, and upon arrival, a picturesque walk from the bus stop to your next secluded cottage awaits. The lightness of your luggage, carefully packed with warm clothes, turns the trek into an enjoyable prelude to the days ahead. You silently thank Yoongi for the foresight to pack hiking boots, as the rugged terrain tests your endurance. But the challenge is worth it, as each evening is rewarded with the simple pleasure of curling up in Yoongiâs arms, his hands soothing your tired feet as the dayâs adventures fade into the warmth of the firelight.
In the Swedish cabin, time flows effortlessly, unburdened by the outside world. Yoongi, ever the thoughtful partner, prepares mouthwatering meals with ingredients fresh from the surrounding land, and with patient hands, he teaches you the art of fishingâa skill that had always eluded you on previous vacations. His steady guidance, coupled with whispered advice to remain silent, keeps the fish from fleeing, and you manage to catch a few, only to release them back into their watery home with a sense of reverence. Days are spent hiking the rolling hills and dense forests, each return to the cabin marked by the comforting embrace of each otherâs arms, the crackle of the fire, and the soft murmur of the wilderness outside. Time slips away like water through your fingers, and before you know it, youâre packing for the next chapter of your journey.
The bus carries you southward, where a train awaits to whisk you to Denmark. There, just outside Copenhagen, you rent a car and a charming caravan trailer, your home on wheels for the next leg of your adventure. Denmarkâs landscape, while familiar to Swedenâs, carries its own unique charmâits language more rough, its fields more open, a reminder that every place, like every person, has its own distinct personality.
Both you and Yoongi present your driverâs licenses, receive the keys, and locate your vehicles with the excitement of a new journey just beginning. Yoongi takes the wheel, his hands confidently guiding you northward to a place called Thy, a region he had spoken of with a quiet reverence. The local radio station fills the car with the lively tunes of Danish pop music, and as the road unfolds before you, a bridge rises to meet the horizon. You recline into your seat, lulled by the soothing rhythm of the road beneath you, when Yoongi mentions needing a break. He spots a rest stop, effortlessly maneuvering into a spacious parking area, and for a moment, the world outside pauses, allowing you both to take a breath and savor the journey that lies ahead.
Yoongi quickly exits, making a beeline for the restrooms, while you step out, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. The late hour casts a golden glow, the sun hanging low on the horizon, bathing the world in a warm, amber light that feels like a fleeting embrace. Around you, the scene is tranquil yet aliveâlush green trees stand as silent sentinels, large trucks and trailers rest like sleeping giants, and an array of cars glimmer under the fading daylight. Your gaze drifts to a small store nearby, and you consider the idea of grabbing a meal, but something else catches your attention. A group of young men huddles around a car with its hood propped open, their faces etched with worry, a silent image of distress. Though the intricacies of engines elude you, Yoongiâs knack for mechanics brings a knowing smile to your lips. Almost as if sensing the moment, he appears beside you, his hand finding yours with effortless grace.
You gesture toward the troubled vehicle, your voice soft yet tinged with curiosity. âDo you think we should ask if they need help?â
Yoongi clears his throat, a quiet confidence in his nod, always eager to lend a hand when cars are involved. Together, you approach the trio and their ailing car, a shared purpose drawing you forward.
âDo you need help?â Yoongi asks in English, his voice carrying a note of calm assurance. Two of the young men exchange giggles, their reason a mystery, but the one peering under the hood turns to Yoongi with relief plain in his eyes. âYeah. I donât know whatâs wrong with it.â
âIâm a mechanic. I donât mind taking a look,â Yoongi replies, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his veined forearms, a sight that sends a flutter through your chest. âBabe, can you grab me a flashlight?â he asks, his voice gentle, and youâre quick to comply, retrieving it from the rental car. As the sun sinks lower, each sliver of light becomes precious, a fleeting gift for Yoongiâs hands to work by.
With the flashlight in hand, you stand close, watching Yoongi immerse himself in the task, his focus as sharp and radiant as the golden hour surrounding you both. His expertise becomes a quiet melody in the twilight, a dance of hands and metal that feels almost sacred in its simplicity.
âIâm Jonas, by the way. Thanks for looking at the car,â the young man says, stepping away to rejoin his laughing friends, a moment of lightness amidst their concern. You watch him playfully slap one of them on the arm, the sound of laughter briefly filling the air before your attention returns to Yoongi. You adjust the flashlight, its beam following the precise movements of his hands as he examines the engine. Yoongi lets out those soft, endearing noises he makes when deeply engrossed in a task, a habit he likely doesnât even realize he has, but one that always stirs something deep within you. This moment is no different. Watching him work with such intensity sends warmth through you, a reminder of why you cherish these shared moments, even in the most unexpected places.
Grease begins to smudge his hands as he delves deeper under the hood, reattaching a loose valve and checking fluid levels with the practiced ease of someone who has spent years mastering his craft. Over time, youâve absorbed a few of his car maintenance tips, knowledge passed on in quiet moments like these. Yoongi steps back from the car, a signal for you to turn off the flashlight, and you comply as Jonas, his brows knit with lingering concern, approaches to hear Yoongiâs verdict.
âI reattached a loose valve,â Yoongi explains, his tone measured and thoughtful, âand youâre low on radiator fluid. Be cautious when you drive; the car could overheat. You should refill it as soon as possible. Do you live nearby? Itâs risky to drive far in this condition.â
The young man nods, gratitude and relief mingling in his expression. And as you stand there, bathed in the fading light, you canât help but feel a quiet satisfaction in the simple act of helping, of being there in that moment with Yoongi, where the beauty of the setting sun is matched only by the warmth of his presence beside you.
Jonas nods, a wave of relief washing over his face. âWe live closeâweâre almost home. Iâll drive carefully and contact my mechanic tomorrow,â he says, offering a grateful smile. Yet, as his friends snicker behind him, their eyes linger on you with a gaze that feels like a brush of unwelcome heat, as if youâre some forbidden temptation. âThank you so much for your help,â Jonas adds, shaking Yoongiâs hand with a vigor that speaks to his gratitude, pulling him into a spontaneous hug.
Yoongi returns the gesture with warmth, clearly pleased to have made a difference. As he walks back to you, you notice him wiping his greasy hands together in a futile attempt to clean them, a small smile playing on your lips at the sight.
You greet him with a smoldering gaze, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, a kiss that holds both affection and a touch of mischief. Are you putting on a show for the boys who ogled you earlier? Absolutely. As you pull away, you lean into his ear, your voice a whisper in English, âYou always look so damn hot when youâre working. I canât wait for you to fuck me later.â Your words are barely audible, yet you catch the sound of one of the guys choking in surprise, a wicked smile curling your lips as you take Yoongiâs hand. With a playful wave to the three gaping men, you turn and saunter back to your rental car, feeling Yoongiâs hand squeeze your ass with a low chuckle.
âYouâre such a good and dirty girl,â he murmurs, his words a spark that sends warmth pooling in your core. His praise, his touch, his very presenceâeverything about him ignites the fire within you.
Slipping back into the car, Yoongi starts the engine, the soft rumble beneath you a prelude to the journey ahead. The night deepens as you drive, the world outside dissolving into shadows and starlight, the road a ribbon of dark velvet stretching toward the unknown. Hours later, you arrive at a quiet camping ground nestled in the northern wilderness. Yoongi picks a spot at random, the exhaustion of the day evident in the slump of your bodies. He parks and turns off the car, the silence of the night settling around you like a blanket.
Yoongi sets to work preparing the caravan, a compact haven of white and beige. Inside, it holds a tiny kitchen with a sink, fridge, and portable stove, a dining area that converts into a bed, bunks that will remain untouched, and a small bathroom. As he transforms the dining space into a bed, you slip out of your clothes and into one of his shirts, the familiar scent of him comforting against your skin. Yoongi follows suit, and after brushing your teeth together, you both crawl into bed, the weight of the day melting away in the warmth of each otherâs presence.Â
He spoons you, his body pressing close, and you feel the unmistakable hardness against your ass, a thrill of desire sparking within you. Unable to resist, you grind back into him, eliciting quick, needy sounds that only fuel your own arousal. You turn to capture his lips in a kiss, your voice breathless as you whisper how much you need him.
Without a word, he turns you over, his hands deftly pulling down your panties and sliding his own underwear aside. The moment he enters you, a sigh escapes your lips, the smooth glide of him filling you completely, a perfect fit that sends waves of pleasure rippling through you. He moves with a rhythm that drives you wild, each thrust deeper, more urgent, as his hand finds your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge. The pleasure builds, coiling tight within you until it snaps, your climax washing over you in a wave of pure ecstasy. He follows soon after, his warm release filling you as he grunts against your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.
In the afterglow, he gently pulls your panties back up, his touch tender as you both settle into the bed, the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Exhaustion pulls you under, and with the comforting weight of Yoongi beside you, you drift into a deep, contented sleep, the echoes of your shared passion lingering in the quiet night.
Morning breaks with the gentle chorus of birdsong and sunlight spilling into the caravan like liquid gold. You groan softly, stretching your limbs as Yoongi stirs beside you, his warmth anchoring you to the comfort of the moment. The new day whispers promises of fresh adventures, but for now, you linger in the serenity, savoring the feel of his body close to yours.
âMorning, babe,â he murmurs, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep, his hair tousled in a way that only adds to his effortless charm.
âMorning, Yoon,â you reply, your voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, a gentle exchange of warmth before you rise to greet the day. The morning routine is simple and sweetâbrushing teeth and hair, sharing a light breakfastâeach small act grounding you in the shared rhythm of your lives.
Stepping outside, the landscape unfolds before you, vast and open, dotted with tufts of grass and stretches of sand. The air is brisk, carrying the salty tang of the sea and the constant, soothing lull of waves crashing against the distant shore. You inhale deeply, the cold, invigorating air filling your lungs as you take Yoongiâs hand, the two of you setting off to explore the campground, the natural beauty around you awakening with the first light of day. The world is still in its early stirrings, granting you a peaceful solitude, a shared quiet that feels almost sacred.
As you stroll, the calm is broken by the sight of an elderly couple walking pastânaked. You exchange a startled glance with Yoongi, his expression mirroring your own surprise. The closer you draw to the beach, the more you realize that everyone around you is unabashedly bare, the air thick with a sense of freedom that feels, to you, both strange and out of place. Overdressed and bemused, you settle down on the sandy shore, leaning into Yoongi as you take in the unexpected scene.
âWhat is this place?â you murmur, half-amused, half-bewildered by the sight of naked bodies in every direction. Yoongi chuckles, pulling out his phone to solve the mystery. Moments later, his laughter bubbles up, contagious and bright.
âItâs a nudist campsite and beach,â he explains, his eyes sparkling with amusement as realization dawns on you. Laughter spills from your lips, a shared moment of levity in the midst of this peculiar discovery. Thereâs something admirable about the courage of those around you, their ease in embracing their natural state, even if itâs not a comfort you share. With a grin, you tell Yoongi that while you can appreciate their confidence, youâd much rather prefer a different campsiteâone where the only naked body you see is his, perhaps later tonight.
The day unfolds in a series of light-hearted decisions and shared smiles. Later, you venture into the chilly embrace of the sea, donning your swimwear despite the nudist surroundings. The water is cold, biting against your skin, yet it awakens something within youâan invigorating contrast to the warmth of the morning, cleansing and bracing. Afterward, you drive into a nearby town for lunch, soaking in the lively atmosphere, the air filled with the hum of conversation and the sound of laughter. Hand in hand, you wander through quaint shops, not seeking anything in particular, but relishing the simple pleasure of being together.
The hours pass in a blend of humor and quiet adventure, each moment wrapped in the comfort of Yoongiâs presence. Together, you weave through the day, creating a tapestry of memories that feel destined to become cherished storiesâreminders of the joy found in the unexpected, and the beauty of sharing lifeâs quirks with the one you love.
You return to the campsite, hitching the caravan back to the rental car, eager to find a new havenâa place where the landscape is as private as your desires. The drive is peaceful, the miles slipping away under a sky that deepens into twilight, leading you to a secluded campground far removed from the nudist site. As night falls, you settle into the quiet embrace of nature, the only witnesses to your evening the stars that begin to shimmer above.
Under a canopy of twinkling lights, you and Yoongi sit side by side on a pair of worn stools, warm cups of tea in hand. The night is cool, the air crisp, and the silence between you is companionable, filled with the unspoken understanding that comes from years of shared moments like this. The sky stretches out endlessly above, a vast canvas of dark velvet scattered with diamonds, and you both soak in its serene beauty, letting the tranquility of the moment wrap around you like a comforting blanket.
Later, you retreat to the warmth of your caravan, its small space transformed into a world of your own. Curled up in bed, you lean in for a kiss, the softness of his lips familiar yet always thrilling. Your fingers find the waistband of his boxers, and with a deliberate slowness, you peel them away, revealing his hard cock that you always crave. Your desire for him is insatiable, a fire that never dims, only burns hotter with each passing touch.
Wearing nothing beneath your nightshirt, your slick arousal greets him as you straddle his hips, a low moan escaping your lips as you grind down, the friction intoxicating. The rough texture of his pubic hair against your sensitive skin, the solid heat of his cock against your aching pussyâevery sensation drives you wild, fueling the need that pulses through you.
Dripping with want, you wrap your hands around his thick dick, guiding him to your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him. The stretch is exquisite, your body accommodating him inch by inch until your ass meets his pelvis, the fullness making you gasp.
âFuck, youâre always so big,â you pant, the words tumbling out as pleasure ripples through you, your head falling back in ecstasy.
His groan is guttural, raw, as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. âYouâre so fucking tight,â he growls, his breath hot against your skin, his need for you as urgent as yours for him. âTaking me so good, baby,â he rasps, already breathless, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
You hum in response, setting a steady rhythm as you begin to move, your hands splayed against his chest for balance. Leaning forward, you press kisses to his collarbones, his neck, your breath hitching as you whisper into his ear, âGet me pregnant, Yoon.â
You feel him twitch inside you, a reaction as instant as it is powerful, the mere idea pushing him closer to the edge. His grip tightens, possessive, and he begins to thrust up into you, his movements seeking control as he chases that intoxicating thought. His hips snap against yours with a newfound urgency, his pace relentless as he drives deeper, harder.
He holds you still as he pounds into your warm, wet heat, each thrust tearing a scream from your throat. You try to muffle your cries, aware of the thin caravan walls and the nearby campers, but the pleasure is overwhelming, consuming, and itâs impossible to stay quiet under his relentless onslaught.
Together, you find a rhythm, a perfect synchrony that sends you both hurtling toward the edge. He hits your g-spot with precision, over and over, until the coil in your stomach tightens to the point of breaking. With a choked cry, you unravel around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as your body releases a rush of liquid heat, soaking his cock as you convulse in his arms.
Panting, you cling to him, your body shuddering as he continues to move, his pace unyielding until you collapse against his chest, utterly spent. Itâs more intimate like this, your bodies pressed close, and as you whisper filthy promises in his ear, nipping at his lobe, he comes inside you with a deep groan, filling you with his warmth as he grunts against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in lazy kisses.
You both gasp for breath, slick with sweat and the mingled scent of your lovemaking. He cleans you gently with a towel, his touch tender, before pulling you back into his arms. You drift off to sleep in his embrace, safe and sated, just as you love to.
The terrain here is gentler, the low elevations a welcome reprieve from the rugged mountains of Norway and Sweden. Your days have been spent in quiet contentment, the two of you fishing in the calm waters, the simplicity of the act bringing a sense of peace. Words arenât needed in these moments, the silence speaking volumes as you sit side by side, casting lines and sharing smiles.
One day, you take a bus into Aarhus, the city buzzing with life on a cold Friday night. The decision to take public transport is an easy oneâno need to worry about driving as you plan to indulge in the vibrant nightlife. The contrast between the quiet days spent in nature and the energy of the city is exhilarating, and you look forward to a night of laughter and exploration, knowing that whatever the evening holds, it will be another memory to cherish with Yoongi by your side.
Youâre adorned in a flowing dress that sways with every step, its fabric catching the cool breeze of mid-September. Warm boots hug your feet, grounding you as you navigate the lively streets. Yoongi walks beside you, his own boots echoing softly against the cobblestones. Heâs dressed in jeans, a fitted shirt, and a cozy jacket that accentuates his broad shoulders. Youâre wrapped in a jacket too, its warmth a welcome shield against the evening chill that settles in like a whisper from autumn itself.
The streets pulse with life, alive with throngs of peopleâmostly the young and inebriated, their laughter loud and words slurred, their steps unsteady as they weave through the neon-lit night. You and Yoongi sip your drinks, savoring the night with a quiet restraint, the alcohol a gentle warmth rather than a dizzying rush. Neon signs bathe the street in a kaleidoscope of colors, each one calling out the names of bars and clubs, their music spilling into the air, a chaotic symphony of bass and beats.
You step into one of the clubs, but the moment you cross the threshold, the music hits you like a wave, overwhelming and disorienting. The crowd presses in, bodies moving in a fevered dance, leaving no room to breathe. You cringe as strangers brush against you, the invasion of your space unsettling. Yoongiâs discomfort mirrors your own, his eyes scanning the room with a protective edge.
Then, a rasping voice invades your ear, the breath hot and unwelcome. âWell, arenât you a sweet thing,â the man sneers in English, his tone dripping with an arrogance that sends a shiver of unease down your spine. A hand suddenly grabs your ass, and you know instantlyâitâs not Yoongiâs.
Anger flares in you, sharp and hot. With a swift, decisive motion, you swat the offending hand away, spinning to face the drunken stranger. His eyes are wide and unfocused, lost in a haze of alcohol. He leans in, but before he can get any closer, Yoongi steps between you, his presence a solid barrier, gently pushing the man back. The stranger grunts, his voice slurred and angry in a language you donât understand.
Yoongi turns to you, concern etched in the lines of his face, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. You nod, signaling that youâre okay, but just as you turn to leave, a rough hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.
Yoongiâs reaction is immediate, but you step in front of him, a surge of determination coursing through you. The strangerâs grip tightens, but you seize his jaw with your free hand, your fingers digging in with a strength born of irritation. You stare into his startled eyes, your voice low and laced with venom. âI donât appreciate that,â you hiss, each word deliberate. âIâm happily married, and I donât want you touching me.â
The force in your grip makes him wince, and he releases your wrist, his bravado crumbling as regret flickers across his face. âFuck. Iâm sorry,â he mumbles, the fight leaving him.
You push him back, asserting your anger one final time before turning away, not wasting another second on him. Grabbing Yoongiâs hand, you pull him toward the exit, the need to escape the stifling club overwhelming. Outside, the cold night air fills your lungs, sharp and cleansing, each breath forming small clouds in the chilly atmosphere. The tension begins to melt away, and you savor the fresh, crisp night, grateful for the comforting presence of Yoongi at your side, his warmth a constant reassurance.
âThat was kinda hot,â he murmurs, his voice low as he presses his body against yours, the heat of him seeping into your skin. âThe way you handled yourself in there, babe.â His lips brush the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cold.
âThanks,â you reply, your voice still carrying the edge of disgust from the strangerâs touch. âBut it was disgusting. His hands on my ass.â
Yoongi hums in sympathy, his grip on your hand tightening as if to ground you both. âI donât like other people touching you like that,â he says, his voice filled with a protective anger. âIâm sorry that happened,â he says in a much softer voice, making sure youâre okay.
You chuckle softly, the sound carrying a hint of relief. âYeah. I know youâre possessive, Yoon.â
âIf weâd stayed there a moment longer, I wouldâve decked him,â he huffs, the street lamps casting a warm, golden glow on the sidewalk as you walk.
âOh, I know. But I donât want you getting arrested in another countryâor back home, for that matter,â you laugh lightly, the tension easing from your shoulders. âI had it under control. But thank you for having my back.â You lean in to kiss his cheek, the gesture soft and intimate, and just then, you arrive at the bus station.
The cold air bites at your skin, making you shiver as you wait. Relief washes over you as the bus finally arrives, its doors opening to reveal a sanctuary of warmth. You step inside, the chill of the night giving way to the cozy embrace of heated air. Settling into a seat, you lean against Yoongiâs shoulder, the comfort of his presence grounding you.
âMaybe weâre too old to drink and party,â you muse, your voice a soft murmur that mingles with the hum of the bus.
Yoongiâs laugh is like a melody, soothing and familiar, a sound that feels like home. âMaybe,â he agrees, a teasing glint in his eyes.
âYouâre an old man now,â you quip, playfully squeezing his thigh, feeling the solid muscle beneath.
âHey,â he retorts, mock indignation coloring his tone, âyouâre not much younger than me.â
Laughter bubbles up between you, the shared humor easing the tensions of the night. Itâs a moment of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind that lingers long after the sound fades.
Back at the caravan, the atmosphere shifts, the night thick with anticipation. A surge of power and desire courses through you, igniting a fire that demands to be quenched. Seizing Yoongiâs jaw with the same assertiveness youâd shown the stranger earlier, you back him against the wall. Your gaze locks onto his, a silent command that heâs all too eager to obey.
With a teasing smile, you lick his chin, tasting the salt of his skin. âI want you, Yoon,â you whisper, your voice a sultry purr that sends shivers down his spine.
His breath hitches, the sound rough and needy. His eyes, darkened with lust, never leave yours as you tighten your grip on his jaw. âI want your tongue on my clit,â you command, the words slipping from your lips like a sinful prayer.
He gulps, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he swallows hard.Â
âNow,â you add, your voice brooking no argument.
Yoongi doesnât need to be told twice. He drops to his knees with a reverence that makes your heart race, his hands sliding up your thighs to hike up your dress. The fabric pools around your waist as he tugs down your panties, his breath warm against your bare skin. You giggle in anticipation, the sound light and breathless.
He teases you first, a slow lick that sends sparks of pleasure through your body, followed by a gentle suck that makes you gasp. But then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he spins you around, your legs hitting the bed. You fall onto it with a soft thud, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. Yoongi chuckles darkly, crawling over you like a predator about to claim his prey.
He spreads your legs, the cool air brushing against your slick heat. And then heâs on you, his mouth finding your clit with a precision that makes your toes curl. His plush tongue licks and sucks, each movement sending you higher, closer to the edge. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you grind against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that looms just out of reach.
âFuck, Yoongi,â you pant, your voice a breathless plea as pleasure builds within you, sharp and relentless.
He slurps, the sound obscene and utterly delicious. When you glance down, the sight of him between your legsâhis face glistening with your arousal, his eyes alight with desireâundoes you completely. You come apart with a cry, your body trembling as the orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your grip tightens in his hair, holding him to you as he licks you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow and sensual.
When you finally signal itâs enough, he pulls back, his face shining with your essence, drops of it splattered across his cheeks and lips. He looks so fucking hot, and heâs yoursâyour husband, your love, your everything. The thought swells in your chest, your heart beating a wild rhythm of adoration.
âYouâre so hot when you squirt on my face,â he says, his voice husky with satisfaction as he sticks out his tongue to lick at the drops he can reach. The sight makes your pussy flutter with renewed arousal.
âFuck,â you moan, the need rising in you again. âI want to suck your dick so bad,â you groan, your voice laced with a desperate, aching need.
Yoongi chuckles, a low, rich sound as he stands and begins to undress completely. You watch him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body, from the strength in his shoulders to the ridges of muscle that ripple under his skin. Heâs a vision, raw and powerful, and the sight of him makes your mouth water.
With a look of pure desire, you drop to your knees before him. His hand finds your jaw, his thumb brushing across your cheek with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat in his eyes. âYou look so beautiful. Always,â he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence.
His praise sends a thrill through you, your body responding to the way he worships you with his words and his touch. Humming in appreciation, you reach out to grasp his cock, your hand soft as it glides along his length. Precum beads at the tip, slicking your palm as you stroke him.
You stick your tongue out, gathering saliva before you engulf him in the warmth of your mouth. You suck him like a piece of candy, savoring the taste of him, focusing on the sensitive frenulum and the head of his cock.
His hands land on your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he grunts in need. âFuck,â he pants, his cock twitching in your mouth as you work him over with slow, deliberate movements.
You begin to hum, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure down his length. You love watching him unravel before you, his control slipping as you bring him closer and closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, his grip tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, your mouth a hot, wet haven that he never wants to leave.
âBabe,â he warns, his voice taut with anticipation, a delicious strain that sends shivers down your spine. Heâs closer than you anticipated, but you donât relent. You want to push him over the edge, to taste his release. He tries to pull you off, his hands trembling, but you bat them away with a determined swat, drawing him closer, deeper. Without intending to, you deepthroat him, and his resistance melts into a soft moan, his legs buckling beneath the weight of his pleasure.
You steady your breath, fighting your gag reflex as you close your eyes and do it again, taking him in as deep as you can, your throat tightening around him. Your free hand moves to his balls, feeling the tension there, the tightness that signals just how close he is. A deep, primal groan escapes you as you pull off with a wet pop, only to engulf him again, your pace quickening with purpose.
You can hear it in his voice, the way he moans your name, each syllable a testament to how close he is to unraveling. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, but you donât give him that luxury. You push him closer, until, with a broken cry of your name, he spills into your mouth, the warm, salty liquid hitting your tongue in waves.
You watch his face contort in pure ecstasy, every line and shadow a portrait of his pleasure. When heâs spent, you swallow with a satisfied hum, pressing a teasing kiss to the sensitive tip of his cock, making him shudder with the aftershocks of bliss.
Panting, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, still trying to catch his breath. âYou know,â he says, his voice still thick with pleasure, âyouâre never gonna get pregnant if I come in your mouth.â
You giggle, a light, airy sound that cuts through the lingering heat between you. âMaybe not,â you concede, âbut I love this too, you know. And we should have fun while we try.â You glance down, watching as he slowly softens, your heart swelling with affection for him. Leaning up, you capture his lips in a hungry kiss, pulling him down onto the bed where you eventually drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other.
A few days later, a strange ache tugs at your stomach, a sensation thatâs unfamiliar, different from the usual pangs of your period. You brush it aside, though, too excited about the day ahead. Today, you and Yoongi are going surfing in a place known as âCold Hawaiiâ, a name that hints at both adventure and the chill that comes with it. Neither of you knows how to surf, but thatâs part of the thrill. Youâre determined to make the most of it.
You head to a surf shop called âWest Windâ, the air bristling with the energy of the ocean and the people who live for it. The shop is alive with the scent of saltwater and waxed boards, the sound of wetsuits being zipped up, and the murmur of excited voices. You rent surfboards and wetsuits, changing in nearby stalls, and then youâre off to the sea, the brisk air nipping at your cheeks, but the excitement in your veins keeps you warm.
The beach is a hive of activity, surfers riding the waves with effortless grace, their movements fluid and synchronized with the rhythm of the sea. Your instructor, a local with a laid-back demeanor, walks you through the basics: how to balance, where to place your feet. He makes it seem so simple, so intuitive, but you know itâs anything but.
When the time comes, you lie chest-down on the board, the cold water lapping at your sides as you wait for the right wave. The instructorâs voice guides you, telling you when to paddle, when to pop up. But itâs harder than it looks. Your first few attempts are clumsy, your legs wobbling as you try to stand, only to topple back into the water with a splash. You canât help but laugh, the sound bright and carefree, mingling with the roar of the waves.
Yoongi, with his natural grace, seems to get the hang of it quicker. You watch in admiration as he balances perfectly on the board, his posture steady, his movements controlled. But just as you think heâs got it, he loses his balance and tumbles into the water, disappearing beneath the surface for a moment before popping back up, his black hair plastered to his face, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.
You burst out laughing at the sight, the sound of your mirth carrying over the waves. Even the instructor joins in, chuckling at Yoongiâs comical fall. âThat was actually good,â he says encouragingly, his tone warm and supportive. âYou should both try again.â
Yoongi moves with an effortless grace, a natural on the board, and you canât help but scuff lightly, rolling your eyes as you watch him balance perfectly, riding the waves as if he were born to them. His ease draws the instructorâs attention more towards you, his voice a steady mantra in your ear, urging you to paddle, paddle, paddle as the wave swells behind you, to pop up and find your balance before the ocean has a chance to pull you under.
You give it your all, and for one brief, glorious moment, you actually manage to stand, your feet finding purchase on the slick surface of the board. But the victory is fleeting; your balance falters so quickly it feels like whiplash, and the next thing you know, youâre crashing into the water, its cold embrace hitting your face hard. Your palms scrape the sandy bottom, and you sputter, your mouth and nose filled with the sting of salty water. The instructor isnât fazed in the least, his calm demeanor a testament to his experience, and you tell yourself itâs okayâthis is so much harder than it looks.
But youâre determined, your resolve like the tide itself, unwavering and persistent. Again and again, you try, each fall more bruising than the last, the surfboard sometimes feeling like it has a vendetta against you. Yet every time youâre knocked down, you get back up, driven by the desire to conquer at least one wave. Yoongiâs big, beaming smile tells you heâs loving every minute of this, his joy infectious even as you struggle.
âJust try again,â the instructor encourages, his tone unwavering, and you do, despite the toll itâs taking on your body. Your muscles ache, sore from the relentless attempts, and a small part of you wonders how long youâve been at this. Time feels fluid out here, with the waves as your only measure.
Thankfully, the leash tethering you to the board spares you the task of chasing it down after each tumble, a small mercy in the midst of the challenge. You huff out a breath, catching Yoongiâs comforting gaze, his look of support giving you the strength to try once more.
Lying chest down on the board, you let the water cradle you, feeling the swell of a wave approaching. You paddle with renewed determination, and as the wave lifts you, you pop up, finding your balance. This time, you manage to stand, your feet steady beneath you, and the sensation is nothing short of euphoric. A giddy laugh bubbles up from your chest as you ride the wave, a wide smile splitting your face. âLook! Iâm doing it!â
And then, inevitably, you hit the water face-first. But when you surface, itâs with a laugh of pure, unbridled joy. Youâve done it. After countless attempts, after losing track of how many times youâve tried, you finally rode the wave, if only for a moment. And when you see the pride shining in Yoongiâs eyes, your heart swells with a happiness that makes every fall worth it.
Later, after drying off, you treat yourselves to ice cream, savoring the sweet, cold treat as you sit on the beach, wrapped in your warm jackets. The air is crisp, but the warmth between you is enough to keep the chill at bay. You walk hand in hand back to the caravan, the soft crunch of sand beneath your boots, noticing how many other caravans dot the campground. Itâs a bustling scene, alive with the laughter of children running and playing, their joy infectious.
As you watch them, your heart warms, and you canât help but wonder what it will be like when you have kids of your own. The thought lingers, sweet and tender, like the promise of more beautiful moments to come.
âMy feet are so sore, Yoon,â you lament, the weight of the day heavy in each step as you both drag your tired bodies back to the warmth of the caravan.
âMine too,â he admits with a playful lilt in his voice. âHow about we give each other a massage?â The suggestion, though innocent in words, carries a hint of something more, and you feel the familiar embers of desire flicker to life within you.
âYes, please,â you breathe, your words a soft cloud in the crisp night air. The thought of your hands on him, of his hands on you, sends a thrill through your weary body. You canât wait to get inside, to feel his touch, to see where this simple act of care will lead.
Once inside, you kick off your shoes with a sigh of relief, the warmth of the caravan wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You share a quick bite, the soft glow of Yoongiâs phone casting shadows across your faces as something plays in the background, though neither of you pays much attention. Itâs just a quiet moment, a pause before the real focus begins.
Settling onto the bed, you both sit up, peeling off your socks with a mix of anticipation and fatigue. The first touch of his hands on your feet makes you release a needy sound, the soreness easing under his skilled fingers. Yoongi lets out a similar groan as you knead the tension from his feet, and the shared intimacy sends a wave of warmth straight to your core.
âThis has been a wonderful honeymoon, Yoon,â you murmur, your breath a little unsteady as your fingers dig into the arch of his foot.
He hums in response, pleased and content, his eyes closing briefly before he looks at you, love shining in his gaze. âIâm so happy to hear that. You thought we were going someplace exotic, didnât you?â He chuckles, pulling his foot back for a moment, ticklish under your touch, but then quickly offers it again, craving the comfort of your hands.
âYeah, I really did,â you admit, smiling at him. âBut this has been so lovely. Thank you.â Thereâs a softness in your voice, a gratitude that comes from the heart.
âI love you,â you say, the words slipping out easily, a simple truth between you.
âI love you too,â he replies, his voice filled with warmth as he grabs your other foot. The touch of his calloused fingers on your tender skin draws a moan from your lips, your body responding instinctively to his care.
The atmosphere shifts, the once innocent massage now tinged with an undercurrent of desire. Your bodies are tired, but the need simmering between you is undeniable. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you, and the heat in your core intensifies. Letting go of his foot, you crawl toward him, your lips seeking his in a deep, hungry kiss. Your tongues meet in a dance of passion, and your hands move with urgency, tugging at his clothes, helping him shed his shirt, his warmth pressing against you.
You make quick work of his pants, and he follows suit with yours, leaving you both in nothing but your underwear. The kiss deepens, your lips trailing down his body, tasting the salt of his skin. His hands move over you, and you tremble as he pulls your panties off, the cool air brushing against your wetness, sending shivers down your spine.Â
Yoongi discards his boxers, his arousal evident, and your body quivers with the need to feel him inside you. He pulls you close, removing your bra with practiced ease, your breasts spilling free. His gaze lingers, filled with lust and love, before he leans down, his lips closing around a nipple. The warmth of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue, sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making your back arch off the bed.
âYoongi,â you pant, your voice thick with desire as he tends to your other breast, his hand teasing and pulling at your nipple, sending sparks of heat to your pussy.
Your chest heaves with each breath, your body alive under his touch, every nerve ending ignited. His mouth moves from one nipple to the other, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you tug at his hair, urging him closer, deeper.
âFuck, Yoongi!â you cry out, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as he alternates between your breasts, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. You could come just from this, and it wouldnât be the first time. Thereâs no embarrassment, just raw desire.
âIâmâ,â you moan as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, arching your back into his face as you come undone. Your back arches, your body trembling as you come undone beneath him, his name a breathless whisper on your lips as the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of bliss.
A sudden knock on the door steals the breath from your lungs, and you freeze, eyes wide with shock. The intimacy of the moment shatters like fragile glass, and Yoongi, just as startled, pulls away. Instinctively, you reach for him, not wanting the spell to break, your heart pounding like a wild drum in your chest.
But Yoongi, ever the calm in your storm, quickly grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. The distance between you feels like a chasm as he opens the door, while you remain on the bed, flushed and breathless, your chest heaving, still glistening with the remnants of his kiss.
âHi,â comes the low murmur of a manâs voice, intruding into your world as Yoongi runs a hand through his tousled hair, trying to steady his breath.
âIâm sorry to disturb you,â the man continues, his tone polite yet firm, âbut could you keep it down? My kids are trying to sleep, and itâs getting a bit loud.â
Each word lands like a stone, sinking into the pit of your stomach as mortification blooms within you. The realization that your passion had spilled beyond the walls of your private sanctuary makes you wish the earth would swallow you whole.
âShit. Weâre so sorry,â Yoongi replies, his voice steady and apologetic as he bows slightly, the English words rolling off his tongue with ease. âWeâll be quieter. Sorry again.â With that, he closes the door, and the world narrows back down to just the two of you. For a moment, you just stare at each other, and the air feels thick with unspoken tension and embarrassment. Your breathing is still quick and you feel like you want to disappear, but Yoongiâs eyes ground you, and his soft smile lets you know itâs okay. The silence is stretching on, until Yoongi bursts out laughing, showing his perfect gums, which in turn makes you laugh too. Suddenly, you donât feel so embarrassed, the laughter making way for the absurdity of the situation to dissipate a bit, and you just giggle, the atmosphere contagious.
He crosses the short distance to the bed, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. âIâd suggest stuffing your mouth with my cock to keep you quiet,â he says, voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. You barely catch your breath as he adds, âBut if you want to get pregnant this cycle, it needs to be in your vagina.â
His words set your heart racing anew, desire pooling hot and urgent within you. You stare at him, feeling the wetness between your thighs grow, your body responding to his every word.
âYouâre ovulating, right?â he asks, his voice teasing, but thereâs a serious edge to his gaze.
You blink, the realization dawning like a slow sunrise. The ache in your stomachâit all makes sense. âI think I am, yeah,â you murmur, your voice trembling with anticipation.Â
A devilish smile spreads across his face. âWell,â he clicks his tongue, his eyes darkening with intent, âthen Iâm going to fuck you, but youâll have to be silent. There are people sleeping.â
You nod, breath hitching as the room seems to shrink around the two of you.Â
With a practiced ease, Yoongi discards the towel and returns to the bed, his presence overwhelming as he hovers over you, still hard and ready. He takes himself in hand, giving a few slow pumps before his fingers find your wetness. âYouâre so wet,â he murmurs, his voice thick with approval. âBet Iâll slide right in.â
You bite your lip, suppressing a moan, knowing heâs right.
He aligns himself with your entrance, and with a smooth, unhurried thrust, heâs inside you, filling you completely. The pleasure is instant and intense, but you remember the manâs words, biting into Yoongiâs discarded shirt to stifle your cries.
âFuck, thatâs hot,â Yoongi rasps, his voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet as he begins to move, his pace steady and deep. The sound of your bodies meeting, slick and needy, fills the small caravan, mingling with the quiet grunts and whispered breaths.
With strong hands, he grips your thighs, spreading them wide and lifting them onto his shoulders. His thrusts quicken, each one bringing you closer to the edge, his breath coming in harsh pants as he fights to keep his own volume down.
âThis pussy,â he whispers, his voice reverent as he pulls one leg down to reach between your bodies. His fingers find your clit, already swollen and sensitive, and he circles it with expert precision. âItâs mine, and itâs so gorgeous.â
Your vision blurs, your body trembling as a new wave of pleasure builds deep inside. You mumble incoherently into the shirt, but it doesnât matterâYoongi knows youâre close, can feel it in the way your walls clench around him.
He keeps his rhythm steady, his fingers teasing your clit while his cock hits that perfect spot inside you. The tension coils tighter and tighter until, with a final, whispered plea of his name, you unravel completely, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body spasms, and you push the shirt out of your mouth, gasping for air as you whisper his name, the sound broken and desperate.
âFuck, babe,â Yoongi groans, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. The way your body grips him, the way you moan his nameâitâs too much. With a low growl, he thrusts deep one last time, his cock throbbing as he spills into you, warmth flooding your walls as he pants your name.
The world narrows to the feeling of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours as he collapses on top of you, both of you breathless and sated. You donât mind the weight of him, your arms wrapping around his back as you press a tender kiss to his temple.
âI canât wait to have a baby with you,â he whispers against your skin, his voice soft and filled with love.
âI canât wait either,â you reply, your voice equally tender as you kiss him again, pouring all the love and gratitude you feel into that simple, sweet gesture.
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts@constancelayon@wobblewobble822@ktownshizzle@moonchild1Â @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow @jeonsbabygirlsworld
*I don't know why the fuck the taglist doesn't want to work anymore T_T I hope you all find it anyway!
Authorâs note(2): I really hope you liked it! I have two more extras planned for this series and theyâre coming soon! Please let me know in a comment, reblog or ask what you liked đ And please, remember itâs just fiction.
#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#yoongi smut#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#myg x you#myg x reader#myg fic#myg smut#bts fic#bts fan fic#bts fanfiction#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts smut fic#bangtan smut#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fic#bangtan x you#bangtan x reader#bangtan fluff
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Crazy over you x Min Yoongi
[HYBRID AU]
FINAL
18+
The last bite
Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.
Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.
Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.
SUMMARYă Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, whoâs about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.
Authors Note: okay thatâs a lot to unpack here!! First of all, Iâm sorry for any grammatical errors, second I hope you guys like the last bite of this story, truly I cannot thank you guys enough for waiting and being here with me in this journey!! Let me know what you all think in the comments and see you guys!! đ
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Everything felt so unreal ever since we left the clinic. I had went through all the documents already, Jin and me signed all the forms for Yoongis adoption and we had already meet before taking our leave.
I couldnât believe it even tho me and Jin were heading to my new apartment, taking the snake hybrid to my home where he would live for the rest of his life from now on. With Jin being his brother he wanted to be in charge of the entire process - and he wanted to see Yoongi finally free and in a comfortable home. I was glad Jin was there the whole time, i felt like i could lean on him if i felt nervous and i was only able to carry on with this process because of him.
We exchanged many smiles on the way, both of us shared the same fellings of excitement right now. Yoongi was in a different car behind us to accommodate him better, the white van was spacious and was safer for him to be transported to his destination.
It has been two weeks since i finished setting my knew apartment and making new adjustments to ensure it would be a comfortable environment for a hybrid Snake to live in, things i never once considered for myself i was now buying for him. I felt so nervous about the whole situation i made the decision to get a new place entirely for him, i feared my old small apartment would feel like a cage for him and immediately stared looking for a new place for us. This time he would have his own room, the apartment was simple but spacious i made very clear that a bigger place was a must when I meet with the agent.
I took some time off my work so I could be there for the first few weeks with Yoongi and help him adapt, I knew that with drastic changes he would be at his most sensitive moment for him and I was glad to have Jin by my side. He was so polite with everything, I couldnât ask for a better friend and on top of that Yoongi was his brother. I could trust him and so could Yoongi.
When we had started the adopting process, Jin finally decided to talk things out with Yoongi and come clean about being his brother. It was a lot to unpack for Yoongi and unfortunately he didnât liked the facts that much but, theyâve been trying. It wasnât going to be an easy or quick thing to fix, I canât blame Yoongi too. He has been living his whole life alone without family and now Jin appears to be his brother, both males were mature enough to know better then push a relationship they never had.
So far I knew theyâve been doing their best at being friends with each other, but they still need time.
When the car stopped in front of the building, my heart was almost coming out of my chest I felt an immense pressure the entire drive but even now it was like I was about to burst in all directions.
I shared one look with Jin before the both of us got out of the car, the van parked right behind his. I made my way around it towards the back as the staff opened the back doors to get Yoongi out.
For safety reasons he had to be on his collar but other than that he was completely free.
The weather today was nice, I felt great knowing it.
I watched as Yoongi came out of the car on his own, eyes wide open watching every little thing around him in complete awe, the sun shined over him making his scales noticeably lighter. I reached my hand out for him, his eyes immediately turning to mine as he walked towards me.
I geve him a small nervous smile, he looked me up and down before closing his hand around mine. This was the first time we were seeing each other outside the clinic, the first time he saw me as just me. Not his doctor.
I couldnât decipher what was going on in his mind in that moment, he had a neutral expression. But he kept looking at every corner of my face, maybe wondering if this was truly real. That he was here.
Jin walked right behind with us as we entered the building, no one said anything but the silence was comforting in a way.
As the elevator begin to go up Yoongi stood closer to me, hand sneaking around my waist making me turn to him to give him a smile. This time he shyly smiled back, looking down at our hands still intertwined. I have been thinking about how our lives would be from now, what we would do together and how it would feel to be so close to him everyday. At first i was nervous, it is something the two of us never experienced before and i kept thinking: this is much different then being with him as his doctor. That thought made me nervous, but now, as we stand so close to each other i donât feel nervous anymore. I donât have to be someone else with him and i can just be myself. Not long after the doors opened and we all left at the same time, a few feet away in that long corridor was my new apartment, I was excited for everything that would come after we cross that door.
Yoongi mustâve notice, because I felt his hold in my hand slightly tightened. Immediately feeling his presence putting my nervousness at ease as I looked up into his eyes, his thumb caressing over the back of my hand the whole time.
The door had a smart digital lock, it was fancy and i wasnât used with that knowing how forgetful I could be at times I made sure to have the pass code writing inside my wallet and after pressing the password in it feeling the snake hybrid eyes fallowing my every move, the door opened.
I let both Jin and Yoongi get in first standing behind to close the door, while i put my things on the small table beside the shoe rack stealing glances at the two. I watch as the brothers look around the entrance room.
The living room was the biggest part of the apartment and as soon as I entered iâm welcomed by simple but modern atmosphere of the living room, the apartment had a glass wall and we could see the entire city from the living room. I catch Jin looking around amazed as Yoongi looks around the white couch running his hands over the fabric.
- this view is incredible - Jin said, turning to face me.
- please, Jin we both know your house is much bigger than mine - i said, walking up to him.
- yeahâŚ. But i donât have this view. Is almost like a 3D movie screen.
- I know right, I fell in love with it and I knew I had to get it - I tell him - at night is even more beautiful.
- I can imagine⌠- he says - you gotta invite me sometime for dinner sometime.
- oh yeah⌠besides Yoongi could use a friend- I said, pointing out were the hybrid has been this whole time.
My eyes instantly turning back to Yoongi, he seemed to be lost in thought looking around the room and touching everything. Anything i learned about snake hybrids is their sensitivity towards certain fabrics, their dopamine levels rise up around comfortable fabrics. Yoongi looked the happiest naked in a nest of velvet covers at the clinic, i still remember the day i wore a pencil black skirt with said fabric and he couldnât stop touching it. With his words: it scratched a part of his brain he never knew. It was like giving catnip to a cat for the first time, for that reason i had to pick all the house furnitures very carefully. I canât have a overstimulated snake hybrid walking around the apartment.
- what do you think? - I ask him, walking towards him - I change some things around for you and I also did some research for your room.
He didnât answer at first, eyes shined brighter taking in every part of the room before focusing on me. He still wore the clinic uniform and it was hard to believe he was mine like that, i was eager to see him in the clothes I bought for him. I wanted for him to experience all of the world, things he was never able to before.
He was still probably processing everything that was going on in that moment, i knew for a fact that it would take some time for him to adapt fully to this new environment. He has a lot to learn.
- this all is just for us? - he softly asked, as if not believing - just us?
- yes, just you and me - I assured him, taking his hand in mine running my thumb over his knuckles - is our home.
He smiled, looking down to hide the soft shade of pink on his checks. Not being able to hold much longer I close my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug which he immediately fell into. Holding into me just as tight and almost tripping us over.
A sight of relief left my lips, he was finally free and he trusted me enough to be here with me. One thing about our clinic adoption process is mutuality, it has so many layers but the most important one is how both the hybrid and potential owners feel about each other. Once you apply for adoption, two meetings are required. One with the director and doctors of the hybrid and one with the hybrid, that way both parts get to know each other better. Not every clinic works this way, but now that Jin was fully in control of the clinic he made sure all the procedures regarding the hybridâs adoption were done correctly and with much care.
Letting go of Yoongi slowly I pull him by the hand to the other side of the room, towards the kitchen.
- letâs continue the tour.. - I said, as the two fallow me.
I show him and Jin around the house properly, starting with the kitchen on the right side of the apartment, the dining table was what separated the living room from it, highlighted by the chandelier above the round dining table.
The laundry room was close to the kitchen, everything here was simple and neat. I didnât try to get any extravagant items or forniture it hasnât been long since I moved here anyway, and i wasnât really a fan of colorful and expensive things. The apartment was minimalist but comfortable, although the apartment did came with a billiard table from the last owner.
On the left side of the apartment was where our rooms were in a small corridor after the space where the billiard table had been placed, in a place like this usually people would put a piano there but i was sure the last owner was a men. Who would leave a billiard table behind and put it in there?
- donât tell me you got that? - Jin asked pointing out the said table, a tone of mischief on his voice as he stared at me with a grin.
- it came with the apartment⌠those things are expensive and as much as Iâm the best when it comes to this game, I wouldnât buy a pool table Jinnie - i said, the three of us stopped in front of the table.
- yeah, you wouldnâtâŚ. But now you definitely need to envite me for dinner - he said, walking around the table.
- said the guy that literally has his own play ground at home - i tease.
- but i dont have you to lose to me there - he teased back.
- donât go there⌠you know i never lose - i said.
We would continue on arguing jokingly, but i felt Yoongi pulling on my hand turning me fully towards him.
- whatâs this game thing? - he asked, almost innocently but i saw how he would look behind me at Jin earning a chuckle from him.
They are brothers. And i was here thinking - more like hoping, praying for the gods - that his jealousy would disappear once he finds that out, but now both males keep getting on my nerves with that. Jin knows how possessive Yoongi gets and he teases his brother in every chance he gets, using that against him and then Yoongi does the same thing and so on i have to stand between the two as they carry on arguing about whoâs the best and the list goes on. To think they both are adults.
- is a fun game⌠iâll teach you when we are alone - i tell him, which earned me a smirk from the hybrid. I feared the game was his least priority once weâre alone.
With that i carry on the little tour on the last rooms of the house, first showing Yoongis room which was in front of mine. I made sure to get him a spacious bed with his favorite covers, the silk and velvet were a dream to sleep on he wasnât wrong about that. So much i got those for my room as well.
- this is your room - I tell him, opening the door for him to enter - I made sure to make is as comfortable as possible but if there is anything you would like to add or change you can just tell me.
He stood in front of the king size bed, eyes roaming around every corner of the room attentively. I didnât add much decoration for his room, not knowing what he would like i thought it would be better if he choose what he wants.
I watched him carefully wanting to catch all of his expressions, sharing a look with Jin who seemed to be just as excited as i was in that moment i could swear i saw tears under his eyes.
And i understand him, he was watching as his brother finally got a home of his own. Despite everything he got his brother the freedom he always deserved.
- I like it⌠- Yoongi said sitting over the bed.
I exchanged a smile with Jin, chuckling as the he turned to wipe the tears off his face and so on I continued with the last part of the tour.
[âŚ]
âŚ. 3 days later âŚ.
I had made the decision to take a few weeks off from work to focus fully on accommodating Yoongi at home, it was something new for the both of us and I was so nervous at the beginning i didnât get any sleep the first night but now that three days have gone by I felt like my nervousness was all for nothing.
Yoongi was adapting so well it was almost as if he had lived here his whole life, he learned so fast and without even asking for help. It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of me, I was there insisting on helping him at every second but all it took was one glance and he managed everything by himself, I thought the first days with him being in the same space as me would be the hardest ones but it was truly so peaceful. I was worried over nothing when it came to Yoongi, three days out of the clinic and he already learned how to cook.
Three days again before Jin left ha and i had made the decision to stop giving Yoongi suppressants, now that heâs in a safer space having his own space helps ease the situation for his heat. It would take some time for it to come back so i would have enough time to prepare myself for it, the two of us havenât really talked about it yet. None of us mentioned what happened at the clinic and i was too nervous to say anything now, busying myself with his adaptation here trying to get away with it. We needed to talk about that, i knew that, but things werenât as easy. We were so different from each other deep down i was just afraid I wouldnât be able to give him what needed.
Before anything three days ago Jin and I had a talk with Yoongi about all his protocols from now, he agreed on the stop of the suppressants and for the future exams and check ups it would only be needed to take twice a year every six months, to ensure his health is good.
Everything aside, I couldnât lie even if I wanted to.
For the first time in my life I was waking up in the morning every day for more then just doing my duties, I had reason to wake up with a smile on my face every morning knowing I would see him there.
The past days Yoongi created a routine of his own, he would usually wake up before me and make us coffee. Stand behind the kitchen counter while he stared at the window wall as the sunlight shined through, making the entire room look like a golden dream.
Every morning my heart was filled with so much happiness, just the sight of him made any worries disappear completely and today it wasnât any different.
I made my way to the kitchen while closing my sleeping robe, fallowing the sweet scent of hot coffee.
- morning⌠- I said, gaining his attention as i entered the kitchen.
I walked around the counter where he stood, eyes locked on his as he put the mug down closing his arms around my body in a tight hug. The smell of coffee filled the entire apartment deliciously.
- morning⌠- he mumbled raspy over my ear, moving just enough to plant a kiss over my lips. Quick and soft.
- how did you sleep last night? - I ask him.
I watched as his features immediately changed into a bitter one as soon as the words left my lips, I knew exactly what was coming after that but the way he scrunched his nose was so cute I couldnât hold back the giggle that escaped my lips, which I immediately tried to hide the moment he tried to move away from me. Immediately holding his waist tighter pushing him against the counter.
- awfullyâŚ. So terribly uncomfortable I nearly had any sleep and is all your fault - he said, hands falling over mines.
- I know, I know⌠- i blinked cutely, fallowing his face at every turn he made to avoid my gaze.
- no, im not taking it anymore⌠- he said, a pout forming on his lips and I had bit my own lip to hold back another mischievous giggle.
Heâs been acting so cute lately it was making so hard for me to resist, it was like the old grumpy snake hybrid I once knew was gone and was replaced by a cute pouty snake hybrid.
- iâm so sorry my pookie⌠- i watched as his ears immediately turned red over the nickname i gave him, even the slightest and most innocent nickname was enough to make him turn red and hide his face shyly. I was at the point of bursting watching him.
- no⌠iâm not your⌠whatever that is you said - he turned away to the side, his scales shined like golden petals over the sunrise coming through the window.
- all of this because I didnât let you sleep with me? I thought you liked your own room.
- I do⌠but I thought that now that we are both alone here, you wouldnât be away from me - he turned back, staring down at my eyes.
- weâve been through this alreadyâŚ
The truth is that ever since weâve been here, we only went as far as a few kisses on the couch while we cuddled. Our nights just as our morning were spent completely stick together on the couch, the tv would play some aleatory movie the we never payed much attention to honestly.
He would usually fall asleep over me while I run my fingers through his hair not so long after i would fall asleep, until one of us wakes up hungry and the kitchen becomes a playground for the curious snake hybrid.
- I just want you to have some space to figure things out, especially now that youâre clean from suppressants it could be a bit overwhelming and I donât want you to have a hard time - I tell him, running my hands over his waist down his hips.
- you care too much for me - he says, finally giving in and smiling softly.
- always - I said, leaning towards his chest to plant a quick kiss the the exposed skin.
- donât think youâre free from this discussion⌠- he said, voice sounding much lower this time.
I looked up at his eyes our faces bearly centimeters away, noses brushing softly against each other.
- what discussion? - I pushed innocently, making him scoff over my lips.
- youâre gonna make me lose scales, y/n.
I felt his smile grow the moment i closed the distance between our lips, warmth rising up all over my body the second his hands traveled over my back up and down, softly scratching over the fabric of my robe.
Until the growling of my stomach interrupted us.
- what are hiding in there? - He teased poking my belly and my cheeks burned shyly like wild fire.
- funny⌠- I dry laughed makings the snake chuckle even more.
- well letâs give it some food before you eat me for breakfast - he teased.
I hit his shoulder playfully and we begin with our morning routine, making some breakfast for the both of us while he seats there watching me.
⌠6pm âŚ
Weâve been entangled on the couch the past two hours, binge watching a new drama. Earlier Yoongi decided to spent almost two hours in the bathtub, he used three bottles of bubble bath and made a mess all over his bathroom saying it was my fault for not letting him shower with me. But in the end he cleaned up his mess so i wasnât mad about it anymore, craving popcorn i was ready to make some butter popcorn when Yoongi said he would made them for me and I shouldnât have left him alone in the kitchen to pick a movie. He managed to burn it and almost set the fire alarm of the apartment, i was speechless. But i just couldnât get angry at him, he looked so devastated after burning the popcorn he had the biggest pout on his lips.
I took the charge of making the popcorn again and told him to wait in the living room but he stayed and said he would watch me so he could learn, I thought nothing of it and just continue my business to focus to notice the snake hybrid sliding closer the moment i turned to place the now done popcorn into a bowl.
A gasp leaving my lips in instant surprise the moment the snake holds me from behind, i giggle feeling he sink his face a the curve of my neck. Heâs been doing that a lot lately finding amusement on catching me off guard just to tease on my weak spot, i held on his arms turning my face toward his kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled holding me tighter.
Yoongi has been gaining some weight since he left the clinic and i was trying to keep my composure at how fast he was getting stronger, he wasnât the small snake hybrid left to die at the clinic anymore. Yoongi was growing muscles and eating better then he was before, he looked much healthier now and i was happy for him.
I leaned against his chest, feeling the woody scent surrounding us. After three bottles of bubble bath he at least gonna smell nice for days now. I chuckled at the thought turning to face him, never letting his touch slide off my body he smirked at me.
- is this⌠- i leaned closer to his face, smelling alcohol on his lips - is this whiskey?
- is that what it is? - he asked, innocently.
In that moment i was hit by a wave of shock, i was completely at loss for words, looking closer at him i realized he was fully drunk. Cheeks red and eyes bearly open not to forget the smell of whiskey on his breath. Just when did he drink so much? I turned my back for three seconds?
I wanted to curse myself for being such an alcoholic in that moment, maybe i shouldâve hidden my supply of alcohol in my room and not right beside the pool table. What was i even thinking? Yoongi is free now and just like a kid, of course heâs gonna take a taste of everything new to him.
- how much did you drink? - i asked, worried. This was the first time I heard of a hybrid drinking alcohol, god knows what kind of side effects that could have on him.
- a cup? I dont really know - he mumble.
- a cup? Shit⌠how did you drink that? - i was so utterly worried.
- with my mouth? - he said, sarcasm dripping down his lips like the whiskey in his breath.
- no way SherlockâŚ. - i held my temples leaning away from him. Just what am i gonna do with a drunken snake hybrid now?
- why? Was i suppose to drink from yoursâŚ.? - he chuckled drunkenly, making me look up at him with red cheeks.
This kind of side effects is what i was trying to avoid.
- you⌠- i didnât even knew what to say, he just stood there laughing as if this was the funniest thing to him.
And for that small moment i laughed with him, i donât think ive ever seen him this happy. Gummies out at how big he was smiling, chest moving up and down faster he could bearly hold himself up while laughing. Jin is gonna love this.
- okay dunk boy, eat - i shove some popcorn on his mouth - i need you less drunk now.
He nodded while eating. I took the bowl of popcorn with me in one hand and the snake hybrid with the other to the living room, the movie was playing on the TV but failed to catch my attention. As i put the popcorn on the coffee table i made a small run for the bar beside the pool table, looking over the bottles i found one still opened and in that moment i wanted to kill Yoongi - he drunk half a bottle of jack.
- you drunk half a bottle! - i gasped, turning to him.
He sat on the couch legs crossed with my bowl of popcorn watching me as if i was the crazy one.
- you have so manyâŚ. - he mumbled, throwing one popcorn on his mouth - also i wasnât gonna drink much⌠but it was so weak, i had few more gulps.
Weak.
Half a bottle of jack was weak for him.
- this movie sucks⌠- he said, getting up.
- what?
My mind was failing to comprehend anything that was happening right now. Maybe i should call Jin.
- Iâm calling your brother⌠- i said, making a turn to go on my room get my phone.
Before i could take even a single step towards my room i was pulled by the hand and turned towards the snake hybrid, he had a drunken smile on his lips while he looked down at me. Mischief shined through his dark eyes like never before - note to self: hide all the alcohol under my bed.
- lets play instead⌠- he suggested looking over the billiard table - if you win against me, you call Jin.
I scoffed.
- and supposedly if i donât? - i said, closing my arms over my chest.
- i get to decide that laterâŚ. - he said.
- careful YoongiâŚ. - i warned - you learned this only yesterday.
- but i learned from you - he teased back.
- and i never loseâŚ. - i said taking one cue stick, smothing the tip with the chalk.
This was going to be quick.
- who starts? - i asked, watching Yoongi fallow my moves getting a cue stick and smothing the tip with chalk.
- you start⌠pookie - he said.
I chuckled at the nickname. This snake hybrid has no idea was coming.
I position myself over the table aiming at the white ball, striking it quick at the color balls i put two whites on the wholes. A confident smirk rising up to my lips.
- sorry⌠looks like Iâm wining already - i tease, walking around the table eyes looking straight into his.
If he was nervous or not i didnât know he seemed to be focused on me only, but I couldnât blame him. I was gonna win this in no time.
I position myself once again aiming for a ball closer to a corner whole and in the corner of my eye i notice Yoongi moving to the other side, now focusing back at my aim the cue stick slides between my fingers and just as Iâm about to strike Yoongi corners me from behind hands over my hips making me lose completely my chance.
I scoffed turning to look at the sly snake behind me.
- ops⌠you missed that one - he smirked, pointing at my missed move.
- i wonder why?
- maybe youâre not that good after allâŚ. - he mumbles, walking around the table to strike his move.
I wasnât expecting him to get it on the first try and that was my mistake, he did learned from me after all.
He gets four balls in without missing after that, I swallowed hard feeling my pride hurt bit by bit. He just learned that how is he doing it as if he was born in a billiard table, i couldnât believe it..
When he strikes another one Iâm already moving towards the mini bar besides the tale, filling myself a cup and drinking all in one gulp. When I turn back Yoongi is watching me with a cunning smirk.
This sly snake was getting on my nerves - i never lose.
- is hot out of a sudden, donât you think? - i say, playful. He stared the game going dirty and so will i.
Opening the bottoms of my blouse one by one I quickly take it off, keeping on the white crop top i wore to sleep. Putting my hair to the side to expose more of my shoulders.
- arenât you gonna play? - i press, smiling innocently.
There was another minute he didnât move, eyes staring me up and down while he licked over his bottom lip. He cleared his throat before positioning himself to strike, but just as i expected he missed.
- ops⌠- it was my turn to tease, positioning myself right beside him in strike my move.
Once i get my hands on to strike i never miss a single ball, i grew up playing this no one can beat me at my game. Right now i was almost finish, glancing up at Yoongi every now and then i notice he was starting to grow nervous. I wasnât gonna call Jin anymore, after the first cup i drank another and another cup. I wasnât weak for drinks, but i was having so much fun with Yoongi now i had long forgotten why i was even going to call Jin.
Two more balls in and i would win, so I position myself to strike the last colorful ball of mines.
- i could mate with you over this tableâŚ. - Yoongi mumbled more to himself but i heard exactly what he said.
It made me lose completely my chance to strike.
- maybe i should do that when i win this game - he looked up at me, smirk dancing in the corners of his lip placing the cue stick over the table.
He walked around the table towards me, like i was his prey in that moment and he was ready to take me as his victim. Yoongis words were like his poison, infiltrating my mind with thoughts I wouldnât ever consider myself.
Like him bending me over this billiard table right now and doing everything he wants. Maybe I should let him win this time.
Once he was right there in front of me, he took the cue stick of my hand and placed over the table. Pushing me against the table with his body he rested his forehead over mine, hands falling over my hips he drew small circles with his thumbs.
- you win⌠- he whispered - but donât call my brother, i feel like throwing up.
- thatâs not because of Jin - i chuckled - you drank too much, come on⌠lets get you some meds pookie.
I caressed his face softly before taking his hand in mine to guide him back to the kitchen, my guess was that hybrids were much weaker for alcohol and it affected them much faster then for us humans. So i was quick to him some medicine before taking him with me to the couch and let him rest some more till he sober up.
It didnât took him much longer before he was back at being his usual cute self and i finally found a movie to pass time, the popcorn was cold now but i still ate half of it.
The bowl of popcorn half empty sat on the small table in front of the couch, Yoongi was half asleep between my legs while I run my fingers thought his hair caressing the back of his neck every now and then.
I had a mind full of thoughts about today, i was sure that his het would start soon and after tonight that thought was rotted inside my head. Maybe the mention of mating tonight set that alarm in my head and I remember all what i was preparing myself for.
- you should tell me when you feel your heat coming - I tell him, quietly.
- what if I donât? - he teased, lifting his head from my belly watching me attentively with a tired smirk over his pink lips.
- Iâll just found out on my own then - i shrugged.
- like you did before? - he chuckled.
- hey!
- for someone who knows so much about us it took you so long to find out i was in heat - he said.
- only because you were the first snake hybrid on my care - I explained - and you lied to me about it, remember?
- yeah⌠but I didnât lied about yours - he says, eyes suddenly turning darker.
- well, Iâm not⌠I mean, now⌠- I stumbled on my words, it felt so weird trying to explain him how different it happens for humans especially since is different from woman to men.
- I know, I can smell on your skin⌠- he said, making the curiosity go wild on my head.
- how? What does it smell like? - I ask - I truly canât tell.
- humm⌠- he purrs lowly, supporting his hands at both sides of my head to pull himself up.
He leans down burring his face on my neck, taking a deep breath in.
- when your in heat, you smell like⌠lust - he whispers - and when youâre not, you smell likeâŚ
He moves away slowly, looking into my eyes eyebrows furred in concentration as if looking for the right words, lips half open over mine, the more seconds that went by the more he seemed to get lost in a maze.
- warmth⌠- he whispered - it makes me want to be completely stuck around your arms and never leave.
[âŚ]
⌠2 days later âŚ
I could tell his heat was getting closer to a start after the two days that went by. Yoongi became insanely clingy the last couple days and It wouldnât be a problem of course, but the snake hybrid simply decided to steal the keys of the apartment just so i wouldnât leave and so far I wasnât even able to step one foot out in the past days.
I searched the entire apartment already and I couldnât find the damn keys, if only his behavior had stuck with the clingy part but he also became annoyingly a tease. In every sense.
His heat had already started and he couldâve taken me as his so many times, but i wasnât ready and i kept pushing him away and not letting him sleep in my room. For that reason heâs been acting out on me ever since.
The mornings we used to share with innocent kisses and a light delicious breakfast, turned into make out sessions over the kitchen counter and nonstop teasing while i try to cook, our afternoons of binge watching dramas turned into marking and scenting sessions for him. But it was just the beginning, Yoongi could still control his rut pretty well and he used that against me every morning.
The first time he started to scent me was when everything went down hill and i knew it would only get harder for him to control it.
I trusted him to tell me when his heat begin to show so i could help him and I was confident it would take at least a few more days, that was my mistake. And again I didnât notice the signs.
A few days ago when the weather had changed so drastically, it had been raining since late that morning. So the two of us decided to just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day, i was usually the bigger spoon when we cuddle but the cold weather made me seek warmth on Yoongi. Not knowing what was going on with his sudden quietness i just brushed off as him being tired and held him tighter, every minute that passed I grew more sleepy from his soft caress on my back, hugging him and burning my face on the curve of his neck.
My body was just seconds before completely falling asleep when he moved, i groan against his chest in disagreement while he pulled me down with him between his legs.
He stared to softly place kisses over my cheek, down my jawline and brushing my hair away with his fingers to expose the skin of my neck. Kisses slowly fading into more needy touches while the second passes and I was complete unaware of it, until soft kisses turned into deep and wet ones.
I was fully alert and ready to lean away from him, my wrist was closed to his neck placed beside his head to support me up but he was quick to stop me as if predicting what I was going to do, he held my hand towards him to pull me back.
- just a little moreâŚ. - he murmured over my ear, voice soft but low and raspy as if he was drunk - I wonât do anything⌠just, stay a bit more like thisâŚ.
He didnât move until every part of my body fully gave in, he took his chance in that moment and bit into the curve of my neck. Not enough to sink his poison on me, just enough to leave a red mark on my skin for days.
After that he did let me go, but things were different now that his heat has stared. I wasnât one to complain, i loved every minute i spent under his touch. He wanted to torture me for not letting him sleep beside me, but his ways of torturing consisted only on teasing me till I canât take it and then leaving me all flustered.
It was late a night and i was getting ready to sleep already when i decided to questioned him about his heat. The door to his room was always open, i watched him from the corridor moving side to side before entering his room.
- are you okay with you heat? Do you think is gonna get bad any time soon?
- no⌠I can control it right now - he said, while picking a change of clothes to shower.
- okay⌠- I murmured looking around his room seeing as how neat everything looked - you didnât make a nest?
He scoffed before turning around to fully look at me.
- i would⌠but someone doesnât wanna let me sleep with her - he said, making my cheeks run hot.
Before I could even let another word leave my lips he was pulling his silky shirt off, making a mess of his hair and exposing all his torso to my eyes.
It was not something new to me but it always made me go insane how beautiful he looked, every time it felt like i was seeing him for the first time. His scales looked much healthier and shiny now, i notice how they seemed to have grown even more towards his v line. Shiny lines almost unnoticeable at how delicate they were on his milky skin, making he look like a diamond.
- wanna watch me undress? - he teased.
- is my house - I said back, eyes rooming every centimeter of his body shamelessly making him chuckle.
He walked towards me quickly closing the distance between us two, using his own body to push me against the wall.
Just like that all the air was gone from my lungs, the heat radiating from his body so intensely it felt like a warm blanket surrounded me. And again those dark glossy eyes were focus on mine like they used to at the clinic, making chills run wild down my spine.
Every part of my skin knew his touch so well and urged for him.
- I need my keys - I blurted nervously, finally remembering the reason why I came here.
- no⌠- he said.
- please Yoongi, I canât be stuck here anymore⌠- I plead, finding the courage to look up into his intense eyes filled with darkness.
He didnât say anything at first, the snake switched looks between my eyes and lips in that moment. Maybe calculating his options? Or just thinking about how heâll tease me later for it.
- let me sleep with you from now on and Iâll tell you where they are - he said, a smirk filling his lips teasingly.
I took a deep breath before deciding on what to do, it had to happen sooner or later. I knew that. I just wished I couldâve prepared myself more for what was to come the moment i decided to let him in, the two of us kept saying it was all just for sleep but deep down it was obvious. The moment we are alone over that bed we wont be sleeping anymore.
- okay.
I needed the keys and in that moment I had no idea where that would even lead me, he said he had his heat under control and o trusted that. But far way in my mind something keeps telling me he was far away from any control.
- keys? - I asked, making his smile grow even more.
- my back pocket - he said, as if it wasnât anything.
- no way⌠- i was not believing but he just shrugged at me still smirking - it was with you this whole time?
- put your hands inside it if you donât believe me - he dared.
I swallowed hard blinking a hundred times - his back pocket, he meant his ass my keys were in his ass this whole time - before slowly moving my left hand towards his back pocket, face burning like a damn volcano about to explode. I couldnât even look at his face in that moment, he knew exactly what he was doing.
I bit my bottom lip the second my hand slide down his ass, feeling the skin over the thin layer of his silky pants. Sucking in a breath as my eyes looked anywhere but the snake hybrid in front of me.
- oh⌠- i exale, looking straight back at him. It was empty.
He smirk grew wider, leaning even closer to me.
- wrong pocket.. - he whispered over my lips.
I swallowed hard again, looking down between us too nervous to stare into his dark glossy eyes but inhaling fast at the sight of his deep v line covered in scales so close to me.
No, i used to treat his wounds. I shouldnât be nervous right now. This is nothing.
Body burning in nerves I reach for the other pocket with my right hand, feeling his minty breath brush against my face teasingly. Sliding my hand one more time down his ass, reaching inside his pocket.
He leaned closer making my attention go back to his face, this time he looked as nervous as I was. Eyes bearly open, bottom lip caged between his teeth.
The more my hand moved down his bum the harder he bit into the flash and just then I felt the cold metal of the keys and quickly grabbed them.
His expression changed fast after that, leaning away from me as quick as he could.
- weâll sleep in your room⌠- he said, before turning away to leave for the bathroom.
[âŚ]
After a long bath I went to check on Yoongi to see if he was still in his room but i didnât find him there, going straight back to my own room while i tried to massage away the pain on my neck only to find the snake hybrid shirtless all spread over my bed.
- where your clothes? - I asked.
- donât look at me like thatâŚ. - he said sitting up - everything felt itchy on my scales.
- ohâŚ. Should I take a look at them for you? - I said making my way towards him, when my thumb pressed a painful spot on my neck i groan out in discomfort.
- no is fine⌠- he slides towards the end of the bed were I stood - whatâs with your neck?
- I donât know, i think Iâve slept in a bad position last night itâs hurting a lot nowâŚ. - I say - are you sure youâre fine? I canâŚ.
- Iâm fine, come here - he interrupted me, pulling me by the hand making me straddle his waist.
- YoongiâŚ.
- shh⌠- he smiled softly, pulling the hair away from my neck - let me take care of you, hum?
I blink nodding, watching his attention drift to my shoulder as he pulls the shirt slightly down to expose more of my neck. He begins to carefully press at the curve of my neck with his fingers, my body was immediately filled by relief as he worked his way around my neck and shoulder.
- I can feel some tension here⌠- he murmured pressing a bit harder at the curve, and my eyes rolled back in relief.
He chuckled lowly at my reaction, holding my hair away with his free hand to continue his work.
- if you had been sleeping with me you wouldnât be sore like this⌠- he teased.
It was my turn to chuckle.
- lies⌠- I said, staring into his eyes.
He looked back with the same amount of dirtiness on his mind and I decided it was my turn to make him red.
- whereâs my nest? - I asked, holding myself from bursting out laughing the second he catch what i said.
He looked extremely worried and embarrassed, almost chocking at his own words.
- oh my godâŚ. - I laughed out, closing my arms around his neck - sorry pookie⌠I was just teasing.
I kissed his forehead.
- Iâll wait for you to make one for us⌠- I whispered to him.
- I thought you didnât like them⌠- he confessed.
- what do you mean? I like it - I assure him, caressing the back of his neck. Resting my forehead on his.
In just seconds he had me pulled against him and turned us over the bed, hovering over me between my legs. A gasp had left my lips at the sudden movement, holding into him tighter until his eyes opened again staring down at mine in complete lust.
I didnât expected him to act so quickly after asking for a nest jokingly, it was stupid of me.
He got up lazily eyes still glued in mine, I watch as he made his way towards the closet getting back with three more covers.
He was going to make a nest for me.
He dropped them at my feet before taking one at the time and laying them around me until he was satisfied with it, he had a focused expression on his soft features and then when he was finally done he looked me up before saying anything.
- I wanted this ever since I first saw you at the clinic⌠- he said, hovering over my body slowly - I want you for the rest of my life, y/n.
Staring into his glossy dark eyes once again, Iâve never felt more out of breath. Every moment with him had been so intense lately, as if all the cells in my body were anticipating this moment knowing what would happen, urging it to happen.
- bite me⌠- he whispered over my lips - like you did last time.
It was different than last time, at that time us being together was completely forbidden but now we are free, we have each other.
Pulling him closer I kissed his lips, not taking any more seconds. Groaning into his mouth every time his skin came in touch with mine, feeling shivers burning down my body never failing to drive me insane.
I was so high already and we had just stared, trailing my fingers down his back and earning a few groans from him. He bit into my bottom lip, leaning away just enough to stare into my eyes.
There was a different glow around him this time, something I havenât seen before.
His chest moved against mine, hands sliding up and down my sides each time heavier and sometimes scratching over the layers of my clothes, teasing us both by dragging his own need to touch my skin.
The cold tip of his nose delicately moving against the side of my face, his hot breath slowly seeping through his lips over mine. The minty scent from his tongue danced over my lips deliciously but he didnât do anything. He continued his soft tease, waiting for me to make his wish come true.
I slowly started to feel his back muscles, softly touching over the scales on his body. They felt so soft to touch just like the velvet we were surrounded by, each time I caressed them softly I would feel Yoongi swift over me slightly. His scales were one of his very sweet spots and he continued to squirm and sigh over me at every little touch, making me grow confident and needier.
He was starting to pant against my neck, groaning lowly making the need in me to tease and play him grow more and more. Remembering his little trick with my keys earlier, I let my hands travel down his spine and past his hips. The moment my hands slipped down his ass he squirmed harder, body falling completely over mine and a groan escaped his lips.
In that moment I bit into his shoulder, my teeth and tongue sliding over his skin sinking into his flesh harder just to licking over it. Carving a mark of my own on him.
- mine⌠- I whisper breathlessly over his ear.
- fuck⌠- he moaned over my neck, lifting himself enough to stare at my face.
He was biting his own lip, bruising himself enough to draw blood out of it. If it wasnât now I would be worried for him but, he looked so handsome in such state of lust. I was completely lost in him, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.
This time his hands had no mercy over my skin and i was completely sure I would find a few bruises here and there but I couldnât care any less for it, I wanted them and I wanted him.
- mate with me⌠- he whispered over my lips completely out of breath - be mine y/n⌠I wanna do this with you, y/n.
I softly caressed his cheeks before nodding, he smiled before leaning down again leaving a long peck on my lips trailing down my jawline and towards my ear, bitting softly at my neck.
I knew what would come for me in that moment, it was a one way trip with no way back.
- make me yours⌠- I whispered in his ear.
Feeling the harsh bite over the skin under my ear, he sank his poison into it. The feeling was immediate, the first time the snake hybrid had bitten me was so painful and his poison was sickening but tonight it was completely different, Iâve never felt so high before like this before. Completely drunk on him so much even the smallest touch was enough to make me squirm and moan, just looking at him made me drool and needy.
He smirked knowingly traveling his kisses down my chest, hands sliding past my waist and stoping on my hips to grip into the flesh before sliding up inside my shirt.
Ripping off the fabric of my body with his hands, I breathed out lost in his arms. At the same time he was rough his touch was full of love on my skin, every part of me he gripped into he left a kiss over it.
He stares into my eyes with fondness, fingers running along my face pulling my up by the waist with his other hand, that way Iâm sitting up with him on his knees between my legs.
I take the chance to run my fingers over his sides, feeling the scales under the tips of my fingers.
He cups my face kissing my lips hungrier, growling over my tongue. His raven hair is mess now, sweat drips down his neck and my fingers as I grip at his locks.
Bringing him closer I bite into his neck again, Yoongi gasp holding waist tighter and probably bruising the skin. But I couldnât feel any pain, only the burning sensation all over my body driving my out of sense.
He stops the kiss, eyes locked over mine, seem to slightly go out of focus, a pool of stars all for me to stare into.
I push him down against the bed forcing him to lay down, slipping off my last piece of clothing before doing the same to his pants.
Crawling on all fours back to him, I watch as he stares at me in complete awe, Yoongi gulps down biting his on lip while he savor me with his eyes.
- youâre so fucking beautiful⌠- he murmurs. Eyes glued on me.
I chuckled at his reaction, running my fingers over his tights seeing how his dick twitches at the slightest touch before finally claiming his lips in a kiss.
He moans deeply pulling me closer.
- Mine⌠- he moans.
- all yours.
He pulls me by the thighs making me straddle his waist, feeling his hard dick press against my pussy deliciousy, sending us both into an overheated state.
I watch as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut biting his lip as a groan escapes his chest, finger tips rubbing over my thighs leaving marks.
The burning sensation of the pain makes me move my hips against his instinctive, Yoongiâs eyelids flutter and his head tilt back as gasps make his chest heave up and down quickly. Another growl comes out of his chest and he moves his hips forward, the waves of pleasure seeping through my whole body making me shiver and lose control over my upper body, using my hands to keep me up against his chest, feeling how he breaths deep.
My eyes fluttered open to watch his lustful eyes in complete bliss, he squirms underneath me moaning out my name.
The sound of his voice sending shiver down my body, the feeling sends butterflies through my stomach. I let out a deep moan, grinding my hips into his. He growls, digging his nails into my thighs. Then sliding them upwards gripping my boobs, my own hands covering his for support as a continue to move against him.
Yoongi pulls me back against his chest, claiming my lips into a messy kiss. Stopping my hips from moving so he could slide inside me more easily, the feeling of his cock filling me up so good was making my head pound in arousal.
Yoongi moans loudly, trembling under my hands, lips searching for mine desperately, biting into the flesh of my shoulders sinking his poison into me while he moves his hips against mine, I pull the back of his hair biting my own lip in arousal moving my hips with his.
The pleasure is almost unbearable, so good every time I close my eyes I see stars, running my fingers through his raven hair holding him tight against me.
- breathe y/nâŚ. - he whispers against my neck, sitting up in bed with me over him.
His hands grip my hips harder, his poison on my system was sending me into a frenzy of pleasure, each time, more.
- breathe⌠- he continued to whisper - just like thatâŚ
Not so long into that I feel my whole body shaking on top of him, knees starting to hurt from being like that for to long, but even the pain felt insanely good in that moment. Making me crawl into him more and more, he held me tighter before turning us around once again.
Hovering over my shaky body, Yoongi gripped into my hands as he pounded into me harder, throwing my head back while my knees are shaking in weakness, I moan out his name. Felling the dizziness claiming my body as he continued to pound at an animalistic force inside me.
- yoongiâŚ. Fuck - I moan out, as he slides one hand between our bodies working his fingers over my clit.
- Y/n⌠fuck cum for me - he groans over my ear, circling over my clit with his fingers ripping a deep orgasm out of me.
- YoongiâŚ
But he doesnât stop, even after he fills me so deep, I feel his cum dripping down my pussy. He doesnât stop moving his fingers, claiming my lips into a messy kiss he trails down my neck, leaving marks down my chest, sucking on a nipple.
- Yoongi⌠too much - I moaned out breathlessly.
I couldnât make a single thought in my head and I loved it, my legs were shaking from his fingers circling over my clit nonstop, body aches tiredly but it felt so insanely good.
Yoongi growls, forces you closer pulling my thigh with his free hand as he he worked his way down my body with his tongue, leaving wet kisses everywhere.
- fuck⌠- it escapes my lips once I figure out what he was planning.
How he wasnât tired after almost fucking me into oblivion, I didnât know, but I was so grateful.
Ending his trail over my pussy he leaves a long lick down to the bottom of it, making me instantly arch my back.
Yoongi forcibly pulls on my thighs against his shoulders, locking me completely down and starts his feast on my pussy.
- fuck, Yoongi⌠- I cry out name, fingers gripping his hair.
The feelings is so insanely good, I moan and mutter words uncontrollably, words that make no sense to me, but feel so good, screaming his name out loud, shit, the neighbors will definitely file a complaint against me.
The sounds he was making driving me to the absolute bottom of the hill, gripping into his hair, myself and digging my nails over my skin.
- too much⌠fuck - my knees were shaking again and he didnât stop, holding me closer.
Yoongi is sucking on my clit so harshly I started to fear he might bruise it down there as well. Just when I thought I couldnât take it my body started to convulse, the delicious sensation began again to fill me up and Iâm cursing and squirting all over him.
Yoongi sits up with a groan, he touches his own face, picking up the remains of my orgasm of his face, licking his fingers as I watched him completely fucked out.
Chest rising up and down tiredly, he hovers over me, hooking his fingers behind my neck just to pull me closer resting his forehead over mine.
- fuck me⌠- he moaned out, making me look up at him.
- Youâre crazy - I tell him breathlessly, we both chuckled.
- Please⌠- he plead, pulling me in to claim my lips in a desperate kiss.
Yoongi grips my waist pulling me to the side as he lays down on his, he whimpers against my lips in a sloppy kiss, hands gripping every inch of skin.
He tugs me closer to his aching cock, holding my hips firmly to move against him. The friction is insanely good.
- you smell so fucking goodâŚ. - he mumbles - please, y/n, fuck meâŚ
He buries his face between my boobs planting kisses over them.
- fuck youâre insane, Yoongi - I moan, gripping his hair.
Yoongi whimpers pulling me tighter against him, holding my hips to make me rut against his cock. I pushed him down while fixing myself between his legs, hovering over his body a begin to plant kisses over his neck, leaving sloppy licks over his scales.
His chest started to move up and down rapidly, he purrs deeply when I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling how he throbs under my touch.
He squeezes my hips, sweet whimpers leave his lips and I watch with pleasant eyes the snake hybrid squirm in front of me as I start jerking him off quickly, making he growl my name before returning to the slow peace of before.
He whines, throwing his head back.
- is this good my Yoongi? - I tease, watching he squirms as a reaction.
- So good⌠oh, so good y/n - he groans, barely keeping his eyes open - please, fuck..
- What is it baby? What do you want? - I taunt moving my hand terribly slow over his cock.
- Wanna⌠fuck, wanna cum⌠- he moans, trembling when I start jerking him off quickly.
His pretty cock spits pre cum, the sounds of my hand moving around his throbbing head driving us both insane, the moment he started squirming I knew he was getting closer.
- yes, yes⌠y/n youâre so good - he moans, hands gripping the covers.
- Cum baby, make a mess for me.
He starts to moan my name repeatedly, bitting his own lip until his legs are shaking, cock throbbing under my fingers while leaking his cum all over himself.
I run my hand over his belly covered on his milk, spreading it on his abs before moving closer, pressing my lips against the curve of his neck.
- such a good boy⌠my Yoongi - I praise, leaving kisses alone his jawline.
- - that was so good⌠- he mumbles, closing his arms around my body in a hug.
- Humm⌠you are insane - I said against his chest, running my fingers over his shoulder.
- Iâm yours - he state, making me look up into his eyes.
- Iâm yours too - I whisper over his lips, softly claiming his between mine.
He pulled me over his chest and we cuddled together, finally letting the tiredness begin to kick and let us get some sleep.
And tomorrow I would wake up happy, knowing it would be in his arms. Forever.
Taglist: @yoongiwantsme @effielumiere @danielle143 @dragons-flare e @awanderingangel @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle @rosquilleta @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique e @kpopmultistantrashsstuff f @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @yoongislatinagff @kimsonlyluv @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver r @whipwhoops s @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @tarahardcore e @liveyun @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @watermelon2319 @mukeovernetflix @lopprhe e @acquiescence804 @locket-hrt @myspi2010 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @armydgirl l l @jaxyy219 @viankiss @shycreationdreamland @the-reas0n-is-y0u @nothingsreal420 @sckalykoko @lucis-noctiana
#Spotify#bts fanfiction#bts smut#bts yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts suga#bts au#black mamba hybrid#yoongi hybrid au#bts hybrid fic#yoongi hybrid#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi smut#yoongi series#bts fanfic#suga smut#yoongi fanfic#bts hybrid smut#bts hybrid au#hybrid au#snake hybrid au
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Heart On The Grid (Min Yoongi x Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter!Reader)
Series Masterlist
Y/N was Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter. It came with a lot of benefits; like she practically grew up in racing. She was karting by the time she was 3 and winning races by the time she was 5. She wanted to be like Beb, she could't pronounce his name properly yet but Sebastian was and is her biggest inspirations. That's how she ended up on the paddock. All the drivers would fret and coo over her. She had the entire grid wrapped around her finger. The drivers would be at her beck and call; if Y/N was hot and uncomfortable they had ice and cold juices and ice-cream ready for her, if Y/N was cold, they would either remove their own sweaters or have an extra pair for her ready. She wasn't only her dad's princess but the entire Formula One's driver line ups.
She would interrupt most drivers during their media interviews who would just smile at her, lift her up and continue on with their interview as if it was the most natural thing. You would find a lot of old interviews of drivers with baby Y/N in their arms but as soon as she would spot her Beb, she would scream for him to come over and take her. Most drivers didn't let her off with a bit of a fight with Sebastian since they wanted to hold her. She was smart, she would talk to them like her parents talked to her; "Nando, I'm going with Beb now. I'll be okay. You do questions and then we can tuddle" she would explain slowly climbing into Sebastian arms who would be smirking at Fernando who was glaring at him.
Whenever she would be gone for school or her karting races, the paddock felt empty. There weren't random stickers stuck to their cars or extra ice-creams lying around. Even the interviewers would miss her since she would give an interview with Sebastian during media day. But most of all, Sebastian would miss his tiny shadow.
Sebastian would try to be there for her karting races as much as he could and she would always talk about Sebastian when she would be interviewed on who was her favourite driver. "So, Y/N, can you tell us who your favourite driver is?" the child interviewer asked. "It's Mark Webber, don't tell Sebastian though" she would tease while looking at him. Sebastian never took it too seriously, what pained him was she was growing up and had out grown her Beb. She wouldn't be as overtly affectionate as she was.
As she grew older, her visits to the paddock decreased with school and her interest shifting from racing to academics and then she started university. It was in University when she was pursuing her masters when she met Yoongi on her exchange programme in Seoul, South Korea. She had gone there to earn a new experience and returned with the sweetest boyfriend. Back then BTS had just started finding their footing in the industry and breaking out even in the west. With all the dating issue in K-Pop and with both their busy schedules, they kept their relationship on the down low. Sebastian was just happy his god-daughter hadn't bought some random man home.
Until one fateful day, Y/N had invited everyone to her house. Her reasoning; she wanted them to meet someone special. Both her father and Sebastian were dreading the day. Y/N cheerfully greeted her parents and Sebastian and his wife, Hannah. Her mother and Hannah were thrilled to hear that she was dating someone; and said someone was currently in the kitchen preparing the dinner. "He cooks?" her mother whispered looking at the man in the kitchen's back. "yes" she smiled looking at Yoongi lovingly. "You guys should sit down" she commented pointing at the sofa. Yoongi came out of the kitchen and greeted everyone. Sebastian and her dad were eyeing the poor boy like he had committed arson. "Hello sir. It's nice to meet you" he greeted her father. "I'm a huge fan, nice to meet you sir" Yoongi said shaking Sebastian's hand who had a vice grip on his but Yoongi just smiled and stood there.
The dinner began with out a hitch until they started interrogating Yoongi and the moment he said he lived in Seoul, you could hear the wheels in their head rotating; "Our Y/N isn't moving to Seoul. It's too far away. You can't have her, sorry, but she's ours." the two men screamed. "I'm no ones" Y/N said exasperated. "She's an adult darling, she knows what she's doing" her mother interjected. "But...but" her father tried to reason while Sebastian was shut up by his wife with a glare from across the table.
They finished the dinner without anymore interruptions. "Sir" Yoongi began looking at her father, Y/N was busy catching up with Hannah to notice, "I promise to take good care of her. She is the most important thing to me in my life. I promise to always make her happy and never let her cry. I really love your daughter. Will you let me marry her?" he asked. Both of the men sighed, they looked at each other before her father started speaking; "We can't tell her what to do, but if you really mean everything you said, then we will support her. But if you do anything to hurt her" "I will run you over with my car" Sebastian cut him off. Yoongi smiled, "Never, wouldn't even dream of it" he said.
Once everyone had filed out, at the door her father hugged her and whispered in her ear, "He's okay I guess." he lamented. "I wished you dated someone I knew so I could keep an eye on him but he's okay too I guess" Sebastian said begrudgingly as he hugged her good-bye.
Y/N had gone to South Korea to see Yoongi off for his military enlistment. It was the night before he was supposed to start and the pair were laying in each others embrace as Y/N peppered kissed once in a while across his face. "I love you" she stated. "I love you too" he replied suddenly sitting up. "Y/N, you make me the happiest I've ever been. I didn't think someone else could make me feel this way other than music. Will you do me the honour and marry me?" he asked now on his knee. She was in tears and could only nod. Yoongi slipped the beautiful ring on her finger and pecked her lips. "I love you. Can't wait to spend forever with you" he stated in her embrace. "me neither" she hummed as they stayed like that for a little longer since when the sun rose Yoongi would be gone, fulfilling his duty.
#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts suga#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi imagine#suga x reader#suga x y/n#suga x you#suga imagine#sebastian vettel#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#kpop x you#kpop imagines#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you#min yoongi#suga fluff#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic
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A Single Daffodil || 4
Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 12.5K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues
Author's Note: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo
Taglist:
@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela
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Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.
You needed tea, warm tea.Â
You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldnât find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment.Â
Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes youâd seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form.Â
âUm, hi,â you stuttered, âI didnât expect to see you this morning.â
Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldnât be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded.Â
âWell, it is the weekend,â Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, âYeah, I suppose it is, isnât it? Iâll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.â
You didnât wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you shouldâve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet.Â
You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didnât find out.
The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.
The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You werenât dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, youâd been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasnât he the one to draw such a clear line between you two?Â
Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongiâs hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how heâd treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.
Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldnât afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him.Â
Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadnât noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention.Â
Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance.Â
âDo you, um, do you have any tea,â you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, âSorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? Thereâs also coffee and juice if you want that instead.â
You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, âThatâs fine, Iâll just have some warm water, thanks,â and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug.Â
Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasnât too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi.Â
Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongiâs presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldnât tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadnât spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.
Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didnât seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadnât really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps.Â
His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.
âUm, thank you,â you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldnât handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.
âNo problem,â he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongiâs subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, âWould you like some as well?
Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, âRight, well Iâll just, um, finish doing this.â
God, could you be any more awkward?
Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.
You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongiâs presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongiâs form on the couch, he called out to you.
âY/N, can you sit for a moment?â
You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time youâd sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue.Â
âSome of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you donât mind, are you able to stay in your room?â
âOh, sure,â you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing.Â
âThanks,â Yoongi almost smiled at you, âTheyâll be here around seven.â
âSounds good,â you said while standing up, you couldnât get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didnât notice Yoongiâs gaze lingering on your retreating form.
Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasnât even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve.Â
Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you werenât exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldnât exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongiâs home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldnât relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind.Â
Why did he get so close to you? Wasnât he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didnât see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you.Â
Even though youâd resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that.Â
Not that you thought that was going to happen.Â
After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseokâs doing.Â
You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseokâs number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.
âWell, hello Mrs. Min,â came his teasing voice.Â
You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, âShut up, donât remind me.â
âArenât you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?â
âHardly,â you scoffed, recalling your husbandâs cold and calculating exterior.
âWell, whatâs up, howâs the first morning? Are you sore,â Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself.Â
âI guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,â you responded, massaging your aching feet.Â
âNo,â Hoseok laughed, âAre you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!â
âGross,â you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, âWe did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuckâs sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?â
âThatâs your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,â he hummed on the other end, âThe opportunity was right there.â
âDude, câmon, he can barely stand me. We wouldnât have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.â
âYouâll get there,â Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.
âHowâs your apartment hunting going,â you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.
âSmooth,â he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, âGood, I think. Iâve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.â
âYeah,â you sighed, âTell me about it. I donât know how Yoongi affords this place.â
âHe probably owns it.â
âDamn, youâre probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,â you half-joked.
Hoseok only scoffed in response, âAs if youâre not literally the daughter of chaebols.â
You hummed, nodding, âTouche.â
âOh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, heâs just finishing up his MBA so Iâm going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,â Hoseok excitedly detailed.
âThatâs so cool! Iâm sure heâll say yes,â you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard heâd worked and if this other guy knew anything, heâd say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat.Â
âHow is everything else,â Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.
âItâs fine, I guess,â you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.
âTell me about it,â he said quietly, encouraging you.
âAlright,â you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when youâd gotten to Yoongiâs penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later.Â
Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, âHow cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.â
You shook your head, laughing along, âI guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time Iâm falling in love as a teenager or something. Itâs embarrassing.â
âItâs not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,â Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, âHaving a crush isnât all that immature, itâs the way you act on it that can be.â
âYouâre surprisingly profound,â you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged.Â
âWell, I have my moments,â Hoseok chuckled, âBut seriously, donât be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And itâs okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.â
âThanks, Hobi,â you smiled, he really did have his moments.Â
âAnytime, Y/N-ie,â Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.
âBut I do have to go now. Iâve got some calls to make about my old apartment. Theyâre trying to keep my deposit,â he huffed.
âYikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,â you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap.Â
After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.
Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you werenât connected to the wifi.Â
You shouldâve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.
Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution.Â
You:
Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?
You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didnât give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?
Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the deskâs surface.Â
Yoongi:
Sure. Itâs worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.
You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it.Â
You:Â
Thank you. Have fun with your friends.
You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadnât vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read.Â
Well, I guess thereâs nothing I can do about that.
You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, youâd bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, thatâs what you hoped.Â
Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations.Â
Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasnât an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongiâs friends had arrived already, and you didnât know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them.Â
Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongiâs. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food.Â
You couldnât remember Yoongiâs address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal.Â
To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongiâs friends further into the penthouse.Â
After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjinâs signature laugh in the living room.Â
Oh, thatâs right, Yoongi didnât want you to come down.
You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were.Â
Ah, fuck it.
You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongiâs group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately.Â
âYah, Seo Y/N,â he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.
You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.
âWhy are you over there,â Seokjin slurred, âCome join us! You need to drink!â
You began shaking your head before you were interrupted.Â
âNoona!â
Jeonggukâs bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction.Â
âCome join us, noona, please,â Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, âSorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.â
You ignored his and Seokjinâs protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food.Â
âWoah, is that fried chicken,â you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs.Â
âCâmon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesnât mind,â Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongiâs stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse.Â
âSorry, oppa, I think Iâm just gonna head up. Iâm kind of tired,â you responded, shying away from Jeonggukâs insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken.Â
âYouâre so boring, Y/N, youâll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,â Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon.Â
âLet her be, hyung, you canât force her,â Namjoon smacked Seokjinâs shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs.Â
You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongiâs icy stare. Seokjinâs cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room.Â
Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasnât upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took.Â
The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadnât come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored.Â
Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongiâs decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongiâs frosty exterior.Â
âMs. Seo, I think your TV is here!â
You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasnât necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didnât have much of a choice. You couldnât ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldnât figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help.Â
âComing,â you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Limâs conflicted stance, hands on her hips.Â
âWhatâs wrong,â you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldnât ask Mrs. Lim for help. Youâd managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight.Â
It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way youâd be able to get this up on your own.Â
âDonât try it by yourself, dear,â Mrs. Lim soothed, âYouâll hurt your back and end up just like me.â
You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, âYeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.â
Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, âWhat happened to respecting your elders? Youâre quite warm though, would you like some cold water?â
You nodded appreciatively, âYes, please. Thank you!â
Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?
Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully.Â
âMrs. Lim,â came Yoongiâs voice, âIs there something in the doorway?â
âOh, my bad,â you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After youâd pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi.Â
He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod.Â
âWhatâs all this,â he questioned.
âIâm just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,â you wrung your hands together nervously.
Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water, âOh, Mr. Min, youâre home!â Handing you the glass, she continued, âMs. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. Itâs much too big for just her to handle and I canât help because of my back. So unfortunate, isnât it?â
You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water.Â
Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, âGive me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.â
You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongiâs offer to help. He didnât spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile.Â
âWell, Iâll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, thereâs japchae and banchan to cool you down. Itâs just about time for me to head home anyway,â Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron.Â
You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, âMrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?â You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes.Â
She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, âUse this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.â
You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself.Â
Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, âBesides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!â She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didnât give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Limâs exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit.Â
âWhere did Mrs. Lim go,â he asked, starting his descent to the living room.Â
âUm, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,â you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze.Â
Yoongi simply nodded, âThatâs fine. Shall we get started, then?â
You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other.Â
âIâll walk backward, so just let me know when Iâve gotten to the stairs,â he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands.Â
You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous itâd make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily.Â
You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since youâd arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook youâd stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongiâs sleek, grown-up look.Â
âUm,â you started, wanting to take Yoongiâs gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, âThank you for, ah, helping out.âÂ
Yoongiâs head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.
âNo problem,â he responded, âI like your room.â
You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether.Â
âItâs cute.â
You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldnât like it before. Furthermore, describing it as âcuteâ seemed so unlike him. You werenât sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, âThanks, Iâm glad you like it.â
Youâre glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldnât the ground just swallow you whole?
Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, âWould you like to have dinner then?â
You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadnât had a meal together since youâd moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you.Â
âUnless youâre eating later,â Yoongiâs eyebrow raised at your delayed response.Â
Quickly, you shook your head, âNo, no. Iâd love to have dinner now.â
Way to sound over-eager.
The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Limâs kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as sheâd learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi.Â
âWere you told about the gala tomorrow evening?â
You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadnât been a fun phone call. Sheâd made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three.Â
âWeâll go together, weâll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,â Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready.Â
âAlright then, thatâs settled,â Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food.Â
âOh, wait,â you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, âDo you have a dark blue tie?â
Yoongiâs eyebrow raised, âYes, I believe so. Why?â
Your cheeks heated, âMy mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.â It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances.Â
Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, âThatâs fine. Iâll be sure to wear that tie then.â With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.
Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the dayâs events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongiâs plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room.Â
You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead.Â
At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.
When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You mustâve worked late into the night because you didnât remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway.Â
Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didnât notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch.Â
âOh, Iâm sorry,â you bowed slightly, âI didnât see you there. Good morning.â
Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasnât done interacting with you, startling you to face him.Â
âDo you have any plans for before the gala?â
âYes, Iâm going to an art show nearby. But Iâll be back in time to get ready,â you rushed to answer.Â
Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup.Â
âOh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but itâs a ticketed event and theyâre sold out,â you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly.Â
Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, âI wasnât planning on going anyway.â
âAh, right,â you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display.Â
Of course, he wasnât asking to go with you, how dense could you be?
Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongiâs judgemental gaze lay.Â
Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book youâd recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadnât managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading.Â
Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water.Â
After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didnât need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didnât get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute.Â
You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok.Â
To: Milf Club (est. 2014)
You:
image attached
art gallery fit đŞ
Hoebi:
you look like my wife
*future wife
Joo-nie:
omgg step on me queen
so when are you attending the met gala đ¤¨
You:
omfg itâs just a dress you guys
also i better see you at the gala tonight joo
bring hobi as your date
Joo-nie:
ew no
you can bring him as yours tho
You:
i have a literal husband whoâs my date
Hoebi:
girls girls, donât fight thereâs enough hobi to go around
Joo-nie:
die
You:
nevermind, you can stay home
Hoebi:
you guys are so mean đ
i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich
Joo-nie:
omg good luck! let us know how it goes!
You:
yes def do
iâll see you tonight joo
Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadnât eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didnât need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs.Â
Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, âGoing to the gallery?â
You nodded, âYeah, Iâll be back in a couple of hours.â
Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, âYou, uh,â
You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.
âSee you then,â he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more.Â
âHave fun.â
You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, âThanks, I will! See you tonight.â
With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasnât too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day.Â
You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three.Â
You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didnât have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant youâd lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line.Â
âSeo Y/N?â
You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples.Â
âOh, Namjoon-ssi, I didnât realize youâd be attending this as well,â you said, smiling and bowing politely.Â
âYeah, Iâve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,â he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.Â
âYeah, Iâve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!â
âI know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,â Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh.Â
âYeah, but at least weâre here now,â you smiled, about to turn back around.Â
âWould you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,â Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head.Â
You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasnât allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldnât you two walk around together?Â
âIâd love to,â you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions.Â
Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, âGreat, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but heâs super flaky.â
You chuckled, âSame here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasnât even here, but he wouldnât enjoy it either.â
âHobi, thatâs Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,â Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin.Â
âYes,â you nodded, âHeâs planning on moving back here so heâs all busy trying to get that sorted.â
âWell, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,â Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you.Â
You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasnât good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, âIâd really like that, Namjoon-ssi.â
Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, âYou can drop the formality, weâre the same age, right?â
You nodded, laughing slightly, âI guess Iâm just used to it. Iâd really like that, Namjoon-ah,â you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You couldâve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge.Â
The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation.Â
At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, âYouâre such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope youâre having a fun date!â
The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didnât show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.
Namjoonâs company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants.Â
A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongiâs building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongiâs apartment in favor of Namjoonâs calming presence.Â
âI noticed you werenât wearing your ring,â Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step.Â
You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, âYeah, I guess Iâm still getting used to it. Itâs kind of weird, being married that is.â
âYeah, I get that,â Namjoon smiled reassuringly, âIâm sure Yoongi hasnât been the most receptive either.â
âUnderstatement of the year,â you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, âHeâs so hard to read.â
âHeâs like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise heâs a really great guy once you get to know him, heâs just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. Heâll warm up to you, eventually,â Namjoon said, patting your shoulder.Â
âEventually,â you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.
You had reached Yoongiâs building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon mustâve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, âYou know, as much as Yoongiâs dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I havenât seen him without his ring once since the wedding.â
You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, âIâll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.â
Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongiâs floor. You werenât really sure what to make of Namjoonâs words.Â
Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, youâd dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your ârich peopleâ watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi.Â
It wasnât a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongiâs side. You certainly didnât feel like it, but your mother didnât really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance.Â
Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained.Â
Everything was tiring.Â
You didnât have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty.Â
You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoonâs words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself.Â
You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes.Â
Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you shouldâve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didnât have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself.Â
You really didnât want to go to this gala.
As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.
The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side.Â
He hadnât said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, youâd consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it.Â
After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance.Â
The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile.Â
âYou look beautiful,â he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a âthank youâ. Yoongi didnât release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following.Â
âGood to see you could make it,â your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongiâs hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these.Â
The questions were repetitive, to say the least.Â
âHow are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?â
âHowâs the business, Yoongi?â
âWhen are you two thinking of having kids?â
âAre you still working for that game company?â
It was exhausting, but Yoongiâs warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, youâd made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadnât let go of you. But you werenât complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongiâs musky cologne was intoxicating enough.Â
Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldnât protest aloud.Â
You figured that was the end of Yoongiâs image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on.Â
You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongiâs hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely.Â
âWhereâs Yeonhee noona,â Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjinâs wife pulling you into the conversation.Â
âSheâs at home with Hwannie,â Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadnât really shut up about him since. Youâd seen Yeonhee at your wedding and sheâd looked equally as elated, practically glowing. âI wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,â Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group.Â
Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadnât been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed.Â
âGreat, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,â Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her motherâs piercing gaze, âI think thatâs Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! Heâs an ass.â
You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, âYeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.â
Yoongiâs comment only made you frown further. You hadnât really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldnât think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you.Â
âYou look really pretty,â Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words.Â
âThanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,â you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongiâs burning palm against your skin.Â
âOh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? Thereâs this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,â Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing.Â
âWe should totally check it out! Iâm always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldnât,â you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation.Â
âYou can never have enough, or at least, thatâs what I tell myself,â Namjoon chuckled, âThereâs also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think youâd be up to check it out?â
You nodded, âYeah, of course, Iâd love to. Just send me the details.â
âI donât think I actually got your number earlier,â Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone.Â
âOh, right, that would probably help,â you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you.Â
Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadnât noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table.Â
âHave you two gotten close,â Yoongi asked, though he didnât really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back.Â
âOh, um, we met at the art show earlier,â you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought.Â
âAh, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,â Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, âYour wifeâs really nice, hyung.â
âThanks,â Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, âI have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?â
The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didnât need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for Godâs sake. You moved to retort Yoongiâs absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile.Â
âI donât really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,â he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return.Â
âYeah, that sounds nice,â you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongiâs odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you werenât your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash.Â
You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your fatherâs age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired.Â
But what did you care? You shouldnât care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldnât help it. Maybe youâd ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back.Â
The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. Heâd even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something youâd been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, âI saw you put on the ring, Iâm glad.âÂ
His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out.Â
You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.
âAre you ready to go?â
You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence.Â
During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongiâs behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well.Â
You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.
Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasnât a fair comparison, you didnât outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongiâs other conquests. And there wasnât even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with.Â
Well, mostly. You couldnât deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you werenât going to think about that too hard right now.Â
The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didnât want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more.Â
Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didnât get to dictate who you became friends with and he didnât have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You werenât responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him.Â
Itâs his problem to figure out why heâs acting so bizarrely.Â
Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely?Â
He couldnât understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? Itâs not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now?Â
He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music theyâd never release together. He shouldnât be upset that youâre becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?
As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times heâd seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, youâd looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts heâd seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you werenât wearing a bra. Heâd averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen.Â
Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadnât wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldnât erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind.Â
When heâd arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasnât sure why heâd offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. Heâd been surprised by how much heâd liked the cutesy embellishments youâd added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming.Â
Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when heâd left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep.Â
He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If heâd finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldnât stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning.Â
Youâd looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirtâs neck slipping down your shoulder. But, heâd kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. Youâd looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that youâd worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so.Â
Well, why should he? Heâd been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldnât give you mixed signals.Â
The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair.Â
Maybe he was just horny.
Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! Heâs just distracted by you because he hasnât been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldnât be anything else, he wouldnât allow it to be.Â
Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved.Â
His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didnât want to consider what it meant if they werenât.
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