#please always come to my askbox to scream about dramas especially this one i have many feelings thank you anon

[gentil-minou]

YOUR 2521 ASK REPLY, YES TO ALL OF IT. god, this drama could've been top 3 dramas of all time if it wasn't for the ending. never going to forgive them giving us a story about hope and love, and friendship only to end it that way. like you said, if they wanted me to BELIEVE these characters would do this to each other, you shouldn't save it for the last 2 episodes. they were literally not wanting to let go of each other at the bus stop. the writer could've easily fixed the story then. they couldn't be apart or not care about the other that they RAN TO FIND EACH OTHER, CRYING, HOLDING ON TO EACH OTHER, THEY DID NOT WANT TO LET GO. also... when people say its realistic... not for them, it made no sense for them. like you said, they built such an amazing foundation as friends and suddenly they break up and suddenly, they can't ever speak to the other again apparently??? how is that realistic? even if they did break up, u cant convince me heedo and yijin wouldn't have kept in touch. also, heedo carrying yijin everywhere with her, from the rainbow chairs to writing what she did on her daughter's ballet shoes, to her looking like she still feels grief about them not being together. btw idk if you know but they were planning to add a shot of heedo's husband with their daughter when she was younger getting on a bus, and im glad they didnt use it cus where have you even been? the way heedo's face lights up when she talks about him or when her mom mentions him. the way shes constantly saying 'thats life.. nothing lasts forever' god i hate it. like yeah but how do you not remember a trip you took with someone you cared deeply about and also your new friends. for the first time in your life, these were your actual friends. things dont last bc you dont put effort into them anymore, obviously sometimes life gets in the way but we started this show in the time of the pandemic... would've been so nice to see them still connect with each other at the end on video call or something. i knew the show was based off this song about lost love, but i actually thought the writer was way too hopeful with her characters to actually end it on a bad note. i thought it wouldve been the same intentions til the end but the last 2 eps felt like they threw darts to pick an ending. 9/11?? bro come on. anyways sorry this is so long, i have lots of feels about it but ironically i miss the characters so much im on my like 4th rewatch (where i skip older heedo and the last 2 eps) but ngl, it never feels right when i end it there :'(

E X A C T L Y

Literally yes to all of this. None of it made any damn sense and it had to be that the director and writer were telling two different stories. In kdrama land, I think the writer only needs to have the first few scripts ready for the production to pick it up and that's why the director and actors chose it cause those first few eps are like among the best episodes over ever watched. I feel like they starred the drama thinking it would end a certain way and when it didn't the writer didn't want to change her story to adapt to the characters (which to be fair I get that it's her story). It just feels like a major disconnect between the production team and God I will never be okay

[here4kpopfics]

Feeling in Chaos - Fall pt. 1 | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader | Yoongi x (f) reader 

Genre: drama, angst, smut

AU: art college!au, friends to lovers, best friend’s brother

Wordcount: 10,198

Summary: Having to revisit somewhere full of memories for the first time, you ask a friend (?) for help. 

Rating: M / 18+ 

Warnings: Language. Grief. Panic attacks. Y/n has PTSD and is learning how to get through it. Mentions of use of medication. Bad decisions. Jealousy. Self-loathing. Possibly problematic friendship/relationship. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please just skip this story. 

Smut Warnings: oral (both f and m receiving). Protected sex. He gets a little rough at the end, but very vanilla considering what I usually write. 

AN: Sorry for the long wait. The original decision was to have the entire season be their own chapters, but I didn’t want to make the wait time even longer, and the chapters would be over 50k words each. So the seasons get parts and you get updates faster! A reminder that you are free to dislike the way a character behaves and the choices they make and the words they say, especially when dealing with a trauma or grieving. But remember that doesn’t always make them who they are. People overreact, people underreact. Emotions are either heightened or taken away and it can cause a lot of trouble. 

Thank you to my soulmate @playmetheclassics for beta/editing and for just dealing with me freaking out over how the story reads and if people will hate it and me basically spoiling it left and right. You're amazing. 💜

Banner and Divider by @classicscreations

Masterlist | Taglist | AskBox | Coffee?

PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

Y/N (6:47pm): Are you busy?

Yoongi (6:58 pm): For you? Never.

You roll your eyes, sitting in the corner of the library, backpack and canvas sitting on the table in front of you. You curled up into one of the chairs, deciding to wait at the library for his response rather than go home.

Y/N (7:00 pm): I’m sorry for ghosting this week…

Y/N (7:00 pm): School started, and it’s been a mess. 😔

Y/N (7:01 pm): But if you still wanted to hang out before group on Saturday, and are free right now, there’s somewhere I need to go and could use some support…

You hit send and feel the anxiety creeping in at the thought of his rejection and having to go alone. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait too long before he replies.

Yoongi (7:03 pm): Where do you want me to meet you? 

You sigh in relief, texting him where you are and that you’d come out when he was there. He says he’d need about an hour, and you were happy to wait, trying to mentally prepare for a step in the grieving process you knew you weren’t ready for. 

You get comfortable in the chair, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit sideways and leaning your head onto the headrest. You try to focus on keeping your breathing steady instead of the loud voices in your head screaming at you, but both are interrupted by the vibrations from your phone.

Incoming Call: 💜🍪Kookie📷💜

Fuck, I didn’t text him that I was staying after.

Sighing, you answer the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“Hmm?” Is the only thing you can get out. You’re never sure how to greet him anymore. 

“Y/n? Where are you? I thought classes ended at four?”

“They did. I stayed after and spent time in Varon’s trying to complete my painting.”

“Did you?” You puff out a small laugh at the question.

“Nope.” 

“You’ll get it done. I believe in you.” you wish he wouldn’t. “Are you on your way back?”

“Uhm…no…” you feel your body tensing up, “I’m actually going to go to the studio…see if I can finish it there.” 

The line is silent. None of you have gone to the studio. It was the safe space for all four of you, and the idea of going back there was something you and Jungkook had discussed, but neither wanted to until Ryujin was ready.

“Are you with Ry?”

“No…I can’t wait for her to be ready, Koo. I have to get this done.” You hear a heavy sigh on the other line, followed by what sounds like clothing moving against one another.

“Okay. I’ll meet you there. And we can do it toget–”

“No,” you interrupt. “I’m fine, Jungkook. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re not doing this by yourself, y/n.” 

“I’m not.” 

More silence.

“You’re not?”

“No…I’m going with someone else.” You wince at the confession, knowing you’re doing it again. You’re hurting him.

“Joshua?”

“No, he went home after class.”

“...is it that guy from last week? Your new sex buddy? Yongjin?” You groan, running your hand across your face in annoyance.

“His name’s Yoongi, Jungkook. Don’t even pretend not to remember his name. And yes, with him. I’m just waiting at the library for him to meet me here.” 

The line stays silent again. You can only imagine the face he’s making on the other end right now. Eyebrows pinched together, jaw clenching as he gnaws on the side of his cheek. He’s probably glaring at the wall, wishing he had his punching bag in front of him. You almost check the phone to see if he hung up on you before you hear a big breath being taken.

“But he doesn’t—”

“Exactly, but he doesn’t. That’s the point, Jungkook,” you cut him off again, closing your eyes in frustration. ”Please, let me do this alone, with him, with someone who doesn’t know Kai. Someone who knows the pain of losing a sibling. I’m really fucking trying here, okay? I want to live a life worth living for Kai, and I can’t fucking do that if you keep coddling me like this. I love you, you know I love you, but I need someone else right now, okay? Please?”

You sniffle, using your free hand to wipe away the invisible tears you can’t bring yourself to let out anymore, and listen closely to the man on the other end of the call, not saying a word for a moment. 

“Okay.” He mumbles it out reluctantly. 

“Just…let me know if you need me, okay? Or at least text me when you’re there and when you’re back home, so I know you’re okay?” His voice cracks twice, and your heart with it, but you quietly agree to his terms, both saying goodbye and hanging up. 

“Fuck!” you shout in a whisper against the back of the chair, voices in your head screaming at your mistakes in wording and ruining everything with Jungkook again. 

You nearly jump to another universe at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder, turning quickly to smack the person touching you, only to find Yoongi. You can’t even bring yourself to yell at him, forcing yourself to a normal sitting position instead.

“Hey. You okay, love?”

You shake your head in response, grabbing your backpack and putting it on while Yoongi grabs the canvas before you can. 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You shake your head again, grabbing his free hand and intertwining your fingers with his as you lead him out of the library and away from the school. It’s a quick walk from the campus, about six moderately sized blocks, but you both stay silent until you’re a block away from the studio. You feel a small tug on your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/n, I’m not doing whatever this is unless you talk to me.”

You turn to look at him, fighting off the many different emotions building up in your heart. 

“I…it’s hard to explain. I’d rather ignore it and focus on why I called you, okay?”

“No. Not okay.” He tugs you closer, chests almost touching. 

“What happened?” His tone softens as he stands the canvas on the ground against his leg to free his hand that moves a strand of hair out of your face. 

You keep your eyes on the beautiful necklace around his neck. The little gold star-shaped pendant resting perfectly under the center of his clavicle with the initials MK carved into it. You wonder where he got it or who gave it to him. 

“I just keep fucking things up with people, and I speak without thinking, and I’m just so tired of it. I’m tired of explaining my feelings. I’m tired of being treated like some basketcase or some fragile flower about to be crushed by the wind. I’m tired, Yoongi. So can we please drop this?”

He watches you closely, your eyes never stray from his chest, and you look exactly how you feel. Angry and exhausted and like you could use a room with a bunch of plates you can break. Your actions differ from your expressions, though, your hand squeezes onto his as if you’re scared and begging for help, looking for some sort of lifeline. 

He knows you enough to know your actions are more than your reactions. The emotions you put on for people can easily be the opposite of what’s real. He sighs, gives a small nod before kissing your forehead, and agrees to drop it. He picks the canvas back up and lets you continue to lead the way silently.

You finally approach an old building that had been converted into an apartment complex, still maintaining its historic features. You punch in the code to unlock the doors, and Yoongi quietly follows as you enter an old elevator, closing the door and gate first before pressing the button that brings you to one of the top floors. 

“So,” you say, taking in a deep breath as the elevator jolts and starts moving. 

“Kai, Ryujin, Jungkook, and I are…were…are all into the arts, right? I’m painting and drawing, Jungkook photography, Ryujin fashion design, and Kai graphic design. We thought it’d be easier for us to have an art studio that we’d all share rather than each having our own because that’d be too expensive, ya know? And none of us really have the space to do it at our apartments. Kai and Jungkook maybe, but then Jungkook recently got into film and wanted his own darkroom, so…” 

“Makes sense,” he nods along, watching you open the gate and opening the door of the desired floor. 

“So we piled all our money together once Kai and Jungkook got accepted at our school, and bought this floor space in this office building and turned it into four rooms.” you explain as you play with the keys in your palm as you approach the door to your shared safe space, trying to delay the inevitable. 

“The one immediately on the right is Ryujin’s room, the left is Jungkook’s, mine is the back left, and Kai’s…” you pause, forcing yourself to unlock the door and open it. You stay standing outside as the door swings open, revealing a dark room, lit only by the lights of the city and sky outside. 

“Kai’s room is back, right.” Your voice falters, and Yoongi squeezes your hand to get you to look at him.

“This is your first time back, isn’t it?” you nod, chewing on your lip. 

“Have you tried coming here before?” you shake your head. 

“Okay, let’s go. You said back left?” After you give a quick nod, Yoongi brings your held hand up to his lips, giving a small kiss on the back of your hand before walking in and holding you close. 

He turns on the light, scanning the room for your door. There are two giant L-shaped couches merged together in the main area, and a big tv hanging on the wall. A tiny kitchen is tucked in a corner of the place, and as you had stated, four doors in the open floor space. He finds the one that is painted multiple colors, with your name hiding amongst the smears of paint. You step in front of him to unlock it with a four-digit code, 0901, hearing the obnoxious clicking sound before the door finally starts to open. You quickly step inside, turning on the light and bringing your hand away from his finally. 

Your room is exactly as you left it a few days before finals in the spring. It’s messy from all of the last-minute  painting you had to do and there’s a wall with various finished canvases lined up against one another. As chaotic as it feels with all the different colors and the paint covering the floor and walls, it’s specifically organized. There’s a table that holds all your brushes, pens, and markers in various jars, separated by size and type. There’s a cabinet full of various paints organized by medium and brand. And the same can be said for the clean canvases and varying sketchbooks. There’s a smaller couch in the corner with a rainbow Squishmallow sitting on it, and a stool in the center, sitting in front of a giant empty easel. 

“Wow.” is all Yoongi can bring himself to say as he walks up to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city and the school. You ignore him as you take the canvas from him and set it on the easel. You unpack your paint supplies, grabbing more from the cabinet and table, and organizing the tray next to the easel. You send a quick text to Jungkook that you’re in your studio and turn your location on to share with him while Yoongi has moved to the other wall and starts sifting through your finished pieces.

“Y/n, when you said you painted, I didn’t know you were actually this fucking good.” 

“Is that a compliment or an insult? I can’t tell.” you narrow your eyes at him, a small smile forming on your lips. 

“Trust me, love. It’s a fucking compliment. It’s - oh holy shit, this is nice!” He exclaims, pulling out the one you painted three years ago of a neighbor’s cat. 

“Whose cat is this?” 

“A neighbor from a few years ago. They moved as I was finishing it up for them. Never got their new address.” You watch him hold the canvas up in awe.

“Do you want it?”

His eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“You can have it, I have no use for it.” 

“Are you sure?” you nod confidently.

“Yeah, put it in the cat cafe or something, I don’t really care.”

The grin that adorns his face is something you would love to paint one day. You take a mental photo of him, saving it for a day you feel inspired again. You can’t help but smile back, eyes darting to the floor when he puts it down next to the door. 

“I’ll put it on the center of the wall in the room with the cats so everyone who comes in can see it.” He steps closer to you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So what are we doing here today?”

You give him the rundown of the canvas, showing him the picture of the oak tree you took after texting him, explain your inability to see the colors in the paint and your new instructions from Professor Varon to just paint with whatever. 

He agrees to stick around while you paint, laying on your tiny couch and lets you tell him random stories about Kai while you make the smallest strokes on the canvas, trying to figure out what the colors are. You let Yoongi choose the colors at random, squeezing them onto the pallet in no specific order. You hate that you can’t tell which color is which. You can almost see the color red, but that’s about it.

This is going to look horrible. 

An hour later, Yoongi’s places an order for food to be delivered and you stop painting, joining him on the two couches in the living area. You both eat in silence.

“You should go in there.” Your eyes find his, turning your head to find where he’s looking. 

Kai’s door. 

You look back to your food and shake your head.

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“I should wait for the others. We should do it together.”

“I guess, but he’s your brother before he’s Ryujin’s boyfriend or Jungkook’s best friend, right? Doesn’t that give you something like, I don’t know, seniority?”

“You mean priority?”

“Yeah, that!” He laughs, but you shake your head again.

“It might, but I can’t do it, not without them,” you speak so sternly, trying to end the conversation, but he doesn’t let up.

“You made it here without them, didn’t you?”

“No, I made it here with you.”

“Perfect! You can go in there with me, then.” 

He puts his food down, grabs yours, doing the same before standing up and holding out his hand again. 

“You have to do it at some point, love. Might as well be now.” You shake your head again, but he grabs your hands and pulls you up with little resistance on your part. You let him drag you closer to the door, but freeze when you’re actually in front of it. 

It suddenly looks larger than before, like the door to a boss fight in a video game. It's the final boss and you’re too low of a level. You shouldn’t enter. 

“I can’t do it.” You breathe out, feeling your lungs starting to collapse. 

“Do you not know the code?” 

“No, I know the code. I just…” you look down at the pin pad as the crushing weight of panic starts to settle on your chest again, making you feel heavy. 

“I’m going to open the door and he’s not going to be in there. It’ll be like watching him die all over again.”

His big hands find their way to your face, forcing you to look at him.

“The way I see it, the longer you wait, the more painful it’s going to be. Trust me, I waited months before going into Karin’s room, and I regret waiting that long.” His thumbs soothe back and forth against your cheekbones as you sniffle. 

“You think it’ll be like watching him die all over again right now? I promise you it’ll be even worse if you keep waiting.”

Your head pulls away only slightly, but enough to have Yoongi’s hands follow and readjust as you look up at him. 

“Karin?” 

He gives the smallest nod with the saddest smile. 

“My sister.” 

You offer a small smile in return, a small part of you thrilled that he’s slowly starting to talk about her. He never once mentioned her by name in group therapy, only ever calling her his sister. 

“It’s a pretty name…” you quietly whisper, earning a light laugh from him. His eyes dart between yours like they’re searching for a way out of the conversation.

“Do you want to tell me the code and I’ll put it in?”

You sigh, really not wanting to do this. But if he’s willing to bring up his sister to you? Actually, say her name? Who are you to deny him?

“0412” you quietly mumble, eyes shut tight. 

He moves to stand in front of you, a hand grabbing yours. You squeeze it like a lifeline while he starts punching in the code. You hear the lock clicking to unlock and it’s when the door starts to open you find your nails digging into the hand in yours. 

He lets the door swing open, stepping in just enough so he can find the light switch, turning it on and backing back out before turning to you again. 

“You ready? We don’t have to, if it feels like I’m pressuring you, I don’t mean to. I just—”

“Yoongi. It’s okay.” You look past him and get a glimpse of Kai’s room. You can see his big computer setup as well as a few of his drawing tablets. 

He’s not at his desk, crouched over trying to finish a project. Your heart falters a little, the pain still very much still there, but oddly not as bad as you feared it would’ve been. 

Yoongi steps aside, letting you slowly take the four steps it takes to get into Kai’s room. You take a deep breath when you get to the center of the room, Yoongi right behind you. 

It’s exactly as he’s left it. Just the same as you did right after finals. The four of you had been so busy trying to cram as much fun as possible in the summer, that none of you thought to come back to the studio once the year was over. 

There are sketches tossed around this desk. A notepad that looks full of sketches and other things taped to the sheets inside as well as some pages folded into shapes sits by his mouse. The various tech he kept buying to help improve his work was piled into a corner of the room. He has the same set-up of a couch and a giant window looking out over the city. 

You hear a ruffle of papers and turn to see Yoongi delicately holding some sketches that were on the couch. 

Snap. 

“No! Stop touching it!” You rush to him, roughly taking the papers out of his hand and putting them back on the table. You try to smooth the crinkles you made out without touching the sketch itself but you can’t and instead, the tears you didn’t know were present start to fall from your face, landing on Kai’s drawing. 

You ruined his sketch. This could’ve been the most important sketch to him and you ruined it with your stupid tears. You ruined it just like you ruined everything else. 

I’m always fucking ruining everything, such a goddamn worthless piece of shit. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, it’s ruined.” You gasp, ignoring the ice-cold tightness around your lungs returning. 

Everything hit all at once - like you were being crushed by a freight train and the only moments you could breathe were in between the various train cars running across your chest. 

You drop to your knees, curling in on yourself to be as small as possible, palms pushing against your closed eyes, fingers trying to plug your ears to silence the bloodcurdling noises in your head. You try to breathe, you know you can, but it’s like your lungs refuse to listen to your brain. Your heart refuses to calm down and your brain feels like it’s going to explode. Everything feels wrong and never-ending. 

Make it stop, make it stop, please just make it stop.

Are you thinking it or shouting it? You can’t tell anymore. Nothing seems real anymore. It’s just darkness and pain. It feels like you’re going to die. Maybe that’s okay. You’ll get to see Kai again. 

Please, just let this stop.

It hurts so fucking much.

You feel two hands gently pull your hands away from your eyes and ears. You try to open them, but everything is dark and fuzzy. You can barely make out the boy squatting down in front of you that’s terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. He tries to wordlessly get you to match his breathing, but you can’t follow him. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched it. I'm so fucking sorry. Come back to me, y/n. Fight through it, you’re right there.”

You’re right there. 

No no no, you can’t think about that.

“Do you want the Ativan?” You hear him whisper and it takes so much energy to shake your head. You don’t want to be numb, you hate it.

Yoongi feels his heart pounding. He’s seen you have anxiety attacks, he’s seen you break down in group therapy, he’s seen your panic attacks, but he’s never seen one like this. He’s never heard you scream the things you’re screaming. It’s overwhelming and terrifying and he doesn’t know how to stop it, but he can’t just sit there and wait for you to come out of it. He wants to help. He needs to help. So he does the only thing he knows he can do to help steady your breathing.

Everything stops. 

The voices, the tears, the pounding in your head, and your breathing all come to a halt the moment you feel his lips on yours.

It’s not romantic in any sense. His chapped lips are roughly pushed against yours that are wet with tears and hopefully not snot. There’s no movement save for his hands cupping your face, fingertips gently moving against the skin on the back of your neck. 

The tightness around your lungs loosens and fades, and the pain in your head is back after the initial shock of the kiss, but it’s fading as well. Your pounding heart is now pounding for a different reason. You open your eyes to find his shut tight, tears barely escaping. 

Your shaky hand reaches up, gently tugging his shirt. He slowly pulls away, eyes opening just enough to see your wide ones staring at him. Realizing what just happened, his hands drop from your face as he leans back some more, readying himself to stand back up.

“I’m so sor- sorry. I- I don’t know why…” you’ve never seen him stumble over words before. Sure, in group therapy he hesitates a lot, but that’s because he’s thinking of what to say next. This is different. This is fear.

He quickly stands up, trying not to disturb any of Kai’s things as he rushes out of the room. You stay seated on your knees, completely lost and confused about everything that just happened. It’s when you hear his keys being picked up that you force yourself to your feet and run out of your brother’s room, not even bothering to close the door. 

When Yoongi starts to walk out of your room with his jacket halfway on, you’re already at the doorway. Your eyes are still wide, still processing what’s happening and what you are doing. 

He looks afraid.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without permission. I just, I didn’t know what to–”

Your lips are on his without a second thought, properly shutting him up. This kiss is a complete one-eighty from the previous, however. Your lips move against his, letting out a small gasp when his hands find your waist, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips and causing you both to moan. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him close as you walk him back to your couch, the sound of his jacket dropping to the floor barely noticed. 

The back of his legs hit the couch and he brings you down with him as he sits down, your legs on either side of his, lips never parting. His hands finally move from your waist, one reaching up for your face, holding you close, while the other grabs a handful of your ass, dragging you closer to him. You get the hint, grinding your hips against his and pulling away from his lips as he lets out a groan. 

His hand tries to bring your lips back to his but you move down, leaving small kisses along his jaw, neck, and Adam's apple. You pause when you see the pendant again, still resting perfectly where it should be. You admire the initials MK, now understanding who they belong to. You kiss just below it on his chest, where his heart should be, feeling him relax under the touch of your lips as you slide off him, knees dropping to the floor. 

“You don’t have to…” you look up to meet Yoongi’s worried eyes, a mixture of lust, concern, and something else that you can’t quite place. His hands find yours on his thighs. “We can stop if you want.” 

You shouldn’t do this. You’re just reacting to the adrenaline and soon, you’ll crash in exhaustion. You should not do this. Not with Yoongi. You should stop.

You shake your head. 

“Please?” Your voice finally makes a sound, but just barely. It’s almost grating. Yoongi waits a moment before leaning forward to cup your face in his hands, bringing you in for a soft kiss. 

“Okay.” He whispers against your lips. “Whatever you want, love.” He kisses you once more, letting you sit back while he lifts his hips to take off his joggers and underwear. He tosses them aside, not caring about where they land when you’re crawling back to him

When you had sex with Yoongi the first time, you told him it was just sex. You told him the rules would be no kissing, no oral, and nothing that would be considered lovemaking or too intimate. He agreed, and it’s been fine for both of you. 

Sure, sometimes he’d try to kiss you, but you wrote it off as him just being in the moment and were always able to deny him. You’ve given him a handjob, and he’s absolutely fingered you into oblivion, but never what you were about to do. 

You lightly kiss his knee, urging him to spread his legs and scoot forward so you can fit between them, kissing up his soft thighs until you’re finally where you want to be. Your eyes meet his one more time for permission, waiting for the small nod he gives you before you gently hold his erection up, giving soft kisses and kitten licks up the base, the hisses coming from his mouth urging you to keep going as you reach the tip. 

“Please don’t tease, love.” A hand finds its way into your hair and tugs as your tongue dances along the tip. You smile to yourself, laying your tongue flat and sliding him down your throat in one go until your nose barely touches his pelvis. The hand not tangled in your hair smacks down on the couch cushion beside him as he groans at the sudden overwhelming pleasure of your throat wrapped perfectly around him.

“Fuck. Just like that.” His hand in your hair brings you up for a moment before easing your mouth back down around his cock. You let out a small moan around him, letting your gag reflex kick in just enough to drag another groan out from his chest as you begin moving up and down, your hands gripping his thighs. 

“Wait, wait, love, wait.” He pulls you off him, watching you take in a deep breath, a mixture of spit and precum trailing down your chin. “Fuck, get up here.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. 

Yoongi pulls you back up to the couch, keeping your lips on his as you pull off your leggings before crawling back onto his lap. Big hands massage your thighs as you pull away long enough to remove your baggy sweater and bra, tossing them next to his pants. You surge forward to kiss him again but he doesn’t let you, hands sliding down your waist to hold you back a distance to admire your body. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He whispers it mostly to himself, a hand trailing lower, his thumb gently stroking just above where you want him over your underwear. You both look down to watch as his thumb finds its destination, rubbing the cloth against your wet folds. You hear Yoongi let out a sigh; neither of you were aware he was holding. 

“Tell me I can finally taste you, love.” Your eyes flit up to his half-closed ones. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be doing any of this. You shouldn’t have let him kiss you, shouldn’t have kissed him back, shouldn’t have gone down on him, and you absolutely shouldn’t let him go down on you. You shouldn’t do this. You should tell him no and make him leave. Finish your painting and text Jungkook when you’re home. 

Fuck, you’re going to have to text Jungkook later. 

You need to send Yoongi home. Get him away from you. 

End this. 

End it now before it gets worse. 

“Okay.” You nod, though the voices in your head are screaming at you. You ignore them, the feeling that Yoongi’s fingers provide feels too good, and you just want to feel good again after the pain in Kai’s room. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi smiles, flipping you over to lay your back against the couch once you give him a small smile and another nod.

He barely gives you enough time to readjust before he’s burying his face between your legs, his tongue slowly dancing along the wet patch of your underwear, pausing only to listen to your moans. 

“I could listen to your moans all day and never get tired of it.” You huff out a small laugh in response, a small gasp at the end when Yoongi lifts your hips enough to pull your underwear off. 

Small wet kisses trail from your right knee to your inner thigh and are repeated on your left. Your breath catches with every kiss and it’s driving you crazy. You watch him as he kisses your lower stomach and anywhere he can that isn’t your glistening and throbbing center. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to say he can have you. Your hand reaches for his head, tugging his hair. 

“Stop…” you breathe out. He sits up immediately, hovering over you. 

“Stop? What happened? What’s wrong? What did I do? I’m sorry, I—”

“No.” You kiss him to shut up, “stop teasing. I can’t take it.” 

The laugh he lets out is going to haunt you later. But for now, it’s music to your ears and you even join in as his head drops to your neck, kissing it once before moving back down. 

He doesn’t even wait, licking straight up your folds before latching around your clit. 

“Fuck!” You buck your hips up and his arms wrap around your hips, keeping you down as he devours you like a man starved.

You knew he was insanely good with his fingers, you didn’t expect this though. To be turned into a moaning mess just from his mouth. The intense pleasure builds up so fast and so harshly that you can barely hear him, only feel him moaning against your pussy. It’s when he inserts two fingers while sucking harshly on your clit that you lose it.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna…” your hands return to his hair, but instead of pulling him away from you, you press him closer, encouraging him to continue. “I”m close, Yoongi. Don’t fucking stop.” 

He groans against you and it doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone for him, unable to control your hips or the tight grip you have on his hair. You come hard, tears spilling from your eyes as you try to remember how to breathe. You haven’t come this hard in months, writing it off immediately as not having anyone go down on you since Jihyo. 

Yoongi doesn’t pull away until you’ve come down from your orgasm, almost bringing out a second one just because he can. But your whimpers from the overstimulation force him away, crawling back over you to kiss you again. 

“You okay to keep going?” He mumbles his question against your lips and skin as he trails down your neck, settling behind your ear. He feels you nod against him and with one more kiss, he crawls off of you in search of his wallet in his jacket to get a condom. 

You shouldn’t do this. You should tell him you’ve changed your mind. He should leave. You’ve already broken so many rules, rules you made with him that you just tossed out the window in a moment of weakness. When he comes back, you should push him away, ban his lips from yours, make him get dressed and leave. 

Finish your painting. 

Text Jungkook. 

You’re doing it again, you’re hurting him. You told him it was just sex. 

You lied. 

Fuck, why did you lie again? 

You shouldn’t let Yoongi kiss you anymore. 

You shouldn’t.

But his lips are addicting and you crave them. 

So when he comes back, the condom already rolled over his erection, you pull him down to you by his shirt, capturing his lips with yours. His hands wander your body as he settles between your legs, letting one hand grab your hip while the other guides his cock to your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit and swallowing your moans. When he pulls away from your lips for what feels like the last time, he looks up at you, soft eyes widening briefly as if he just realized what was happening. 

“Hey…”

“Hi…” you whisper back, one of your hands leaving the tight grasp on his shirt to toy with the little pendant dangling from his neck.

“We’re breaking every rule, y/n…” The hand that was positioning himself moves up to push a piece of hair out of your face. You offer a sad smile in return.

“I know.” your voice is barely audible, trying to keep it together.

“We should stop.” But he doesn’t move.

“We should,” and neither do you, “but…”

“But?” an eyebrow raises and you can’t look at him anymore, focusing only on the pendant. 

“I don’t want to.” The words barely squeak out of you. When he doesn’t respond, you have to force yourself to look back at him. “To stop, I mean. I don’t…I don’t want to stop.” Eyes cast back down to the pendant. “If you don’t want to, I mean.”

You feel his eyes on you as the silence continues. 

He suggested stopping first, so he probably wanted to stop. You shouldn’t have said anything and just stopped like he clearly wanted to. Now he probably thinks he has to go through with it just to make you happy. Why the hell did you say you didn’t want to stop? 

You need to stop, and you shouldn’t continue.

But wanting to stop and needing to stop are two very different things.

“I want to if you want to, y/n. This is all your decision, love.” 

You take a deep breath, biting your lower lip as you look down admiring the man on top of you. You’re completely naked, but he still has his shirt on, covering up the scars you’ve only gotten glimpses of. You snake a hand down to crawl underneath the shirt, gently running the pads of your fingers across the part of a scar you have seen. Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat as he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut. You feel his abs tensing, like they’re scared of you, before relaxing against your touch. You watch him for a moment, unable to look anywhere else. 

Suddenly want and need are the same thing. 

Suddenly this is more than sex. 

This is more than feelings. 

This is comfort. Safety. A need and a want to feel again; to not be afraid all of the time. And to forget. 

Yoongi is that for you whether you want to admit it or not. Jungkook is your safety blanket, he’s what keeps you warm and tucked away when you’re scared. But a safety blanket can be suffocating sometimes. You need room to breathe, to forget and do stupid shit you’re afraid of, knowing there’s someone by your side feeling the same way. 

Yoongi.

“Okay.” You whisper, placing a small kiss on his nose. His eyes fly open to meet yours. A grin threatening to escape. 

“Okay? You’re okay with this?” He returns your nose kiss when you say yes, peppering your face with more after. 

Once you’re giggling from the kiss attack, he lines himself back up with you, slowly pushing in. You wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck, leaving little love bites that you’ll regret later but love for now. 

This stretch is different that the other times you’ve had sex with Yoongi. Usually, it’s fast and rough, barely enough time to feel the stretch or adapt to it. This time, Yoongi takes it slow, pushing in inch by inch until he is fully buried inside of you. He stills for a moment, kissing along your neck. 

“So tight, so perfect.” He mumbles against your throat, smiling when he feels your breath catch in your throat after he slowly pulls out and rolls his hips back into you as deep as possible. Your nails dig into his shoulders at the sensation and your back arches up towards him. 

He takes it agonizingly slowly. You love it for the new sensation of pleasure it gives, but you hate it because it’s allowing you to think. 

“Yoongi. Harder, please.” You moan out, a hand finding its way to his blonde hair and tangling your fingers in it. You feel a puff of air against your neck when Yoongi brings himself up to look at you. 

“If we’re breaking your rules, love. We’re breaking all of them.” 

You whine, bringing his grinning lips back to yours in a searing kiss. 

“Please, Yoongi. I need it.” You beg. 

You never beg, not with him. Every time you had sex, you would become the sweet submissive that didn’t speak unless told to when he would ruin you in his bed. Which was fine, it was part of the last rule. Nothing near lovemaking or too intimate. And hard, rough, and silent felt like the perfect method to avoid breaking that rule. 

“Please.” Your lips trail from his to his chin, “ruin me like usual, please. Please, I just want to feel you.” You kiss along his jaw and down to the column of his neck. 

“Please?”

He says nothing, but you feel the growl in his throat against your lips. He takes your hand away from his hair, bringing your other hand with it, pinning them both above your head. He rests his forehead against yours again, taking a deep breath before slamming his hips into yours without warning. You yelp a moan and he lets out a breathy laugh as he does it again. 

“Is that what you want?” He does it again. “You want me to destroy this perfect cunt?” Another harsh thrust, rolling his hips so he gets deeper than before. “Want me to make it mine?”

“Yes. Yes, Yoongi, please. More.” You cry out, writhing underneath him, trying to make more friction. 

He picks up the pace, and it feels back to what it was. Yoongi relentlessly fucking you, flipping you over at one point to be on your hands and knees as he takes you from behind, spanking you until your ass turns red. 

When you alert him to being close to coming, his hand slides under you to rub circles against your clit. He pants, leaning over to place kisses on your shoulder as you come undone, clenching around him and losing the ability to hold yourself up. His orgasm quickly follows yours, spilling into the condom.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you struggling to breathe. After what felt like an hour, but was probably not even two minutes, Yoongi finds the strength to pull out, removing the condom and throwing it away. He rubs the parts of your skin that are red and sore, quietly apologizing when you wince. 

“I’m going to find something to clean you up with, okay?” You slowly nod at his whisper, eyes feeling heavy, all the emotions suddenly becoming a pile of exhaustion. 

It’s like your brain’s putting on a presentation being your eyelids, replaying the phone call with Jungkook, the panic attack in Kai’s room, the split-second decision to stop Yoongi from leaving, and the words said between you two.

You fucked up.

Again.

You don’t hear him leave the room, and barely notice his return or the feeling of him cleaning you or helping you get your sweater and underwear back on, too mentally and physically exhausted to do or say anything. 

You do feel when he lays down on the couch, bringing you against him for the usual after-sex  cuddle. His arm snakes around your back, resting on your waist while yours rests on his stomach, your face burying into his neck. 

“You’re going to regret this later, aren’t you?” His voice is a low whisper, almost scared of asking. Your fingers find the hemline of his shirt, playing with the fabric and the loose threads. 

“I don’t know…” Your reply is weak, cracking on the final word, and you can feel the tears start to form. So you shut your eyes, holding them back and instead listening to his breathing. 

He doesn’t respond, just holds you closer and he seems to fall asleep, you joining a moment later. 

When you wake up a few hours later, you and Yoongi have barely moved. His hand found a way up to your hair and the other hand was placed on your arm that was draped across his stomach. It felt warm, almost safe, but wrong. 

So slowly, you pull yourself away from him, slipping off the couch without waking him up and sneak out to the little kitchen. Your hands shake as you pour out a glass of water, drinking as much as you can in one go. You repeat it two more times before your eyes land on the open door to your brother’s room. The sharp tug on your heart forces you to walk in. 

It looks different than it did a few hours ago. Darker, abandoned, but still familiar. You sit in his chair, spinning slowly around to admire the way he decorated the studio. 

A giant whiteboard with ideas that you don’t understand listed with random drawings you and Ryujin made one night in the bottom right corner. You did that months before finals, and he never erased them. Behind the whiteboard, was a wall painted completely in blackboard paint. He spent an entire day with Jungkook painting that wall before he realized how much he hated chalk. It quickly became doodle central, where the four of you drew randomly while bored or in a funk.

Right above the couch is one of the first drawings you did on the wall, an ambigram of the first letter of your names. Jungkook half-jokingly suggested the group get it tattooed one day. 

This room is the same layout as yours, but rather than having the giant window wall showing the city below, he had wall-to-floor shades that would cover during the daytime so he wouldn’t have any glare on his monstrous computer setup. He always got so dramatic when you or Ryujin would try to use it, but never with Jungkook. 

You reach out to turn it on, but freeze as your finger barely brushes over it. 

They should be here. Ryujin should be here.

You pull your hand away, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging yourself in his chair as it spins a little from the adjustment. 

“I miss you, baby brother. So much.” You softly whisper, leaning your head back and staring at the ceiling plastered with tiny plastic stars that are supposed to glow in the dark, but never do thanks to the heavy shades. 

“I think I messed up tonight. But when am I not messing up, right?” A weak chuckle escapes your lips. “Y/n y/l/n, the screw-up of the family. Always finding a way to ruin a good thing in the biggest way possible…” you feel the tears slowly fall down your face and sniffle. 

“But I think…I think this time, I really screwed up. And I can’t fix it. And I don’t know what to do.” You feel a small burn on your hand and look down to find yourself scratching the back of your hand again. 

“Fuck. I hate this, Kai.” You mumble, soothing the burn with your thumb. “I need your help and it’s killing me that you’re not here.” 

You sigh when there’s no response, forcing yourself out of his chair, stepping out of his room, and closing the door. 

Yoongi is still fast asleep on your couch, a sharp stabbing feeling piercing your heart at the sight of him. He looks so content and at peace that you’re jealous of his ability to sleep so soundly without the voices yelling. 

Your attention turns to the easel in the center of the room with the canvas barely painted. The paint still looks like various shades of black and white. Like a blurry mess of colors that you know are there but can’t see. 

You pick it up, moving the easel away and propping the canvas against the pile of finished paintings on the floor. Dimming the lights, you sit down in front of it on the floor, putting your AirPods in and turning your Spotify on shuffle. 

You bring up the photo of the tree you took earlier and set it next to the canvas and roll up your sleeves. You grab a brush, dip it in a random paint Yoongi picked out earlier, take a deep breath, and just go for it. 

Somehow two hours have passed, and you’re applying the finishing touches, music still blasting in your ears so loud that you jump when you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

You turn to see a sleepy Yoongi tilting his head at you, mouth moving. You pause the music, take the AirPods out and place them next to your phone. 

“Sorry for scaring you.” His voice is rough from the nap and you can’t help but smile when he kisses your temple. 

“It’s okay.” You nod, letting out a small gasp when he sits behind you, lifting and pulling you back  to sit on his lap, and scooting forward so you can keep painting. His arms wrap around your waist, letting them rest on your lap while his chin rests on your shoulder. 

“Looks good, love.” 

“I still can’t see the colors, though.” You mumble as you lean back into his chest to get a better view of the canvas, his arms tightening around you as you do. 

“That doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful.” He holds you close, leaving a few feather kisses on your shoulder, smiling to himself when he sees your skin grow goosebumps.

“What colors did you put on the palette anyway? Just so I have an idea of whatever the hell this is.” His laugh against your skin makes you smile in return. You pull one of his arms away from you, laying it flat and upside down on your lap as you use the brush to paint across his forearm, hoping you’d be able to see the color. 

“I can’t tell you, love. You’ll know when you’re ready to see it. But it is a beautiful tree. Why’d you pick it?” 

“It’s the giant oak tree in the middle of campus. We scheduled our classes together so there was always a time when we could sit together and just hang out, work on assignments, enjoy the weather, anything really. Always at the tree. It’s in Kai’s logo, it’s Jungkook’s favorite thing to photograph. Ryujin literally designed a dress based on this dumb tree.” You laugh, continuing to paint on his arm. You can’t see what color you’re using, but guessing from how dark it is, it’s something that contrasts perfectly with his skin. 

“And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Well,” his free arm unwraps from your waist, grabbing a different brush and painting music notes across the top of your thigh near your knee. “They all have the tree attached to something with their art. A hidden meaning of inspiration…what’s yours?” 

You watch him paint on your leg what looks to be a specific pattern of music notes. 

“I…I don’t know,” you admit with a whisper, putting your paintbrush down and resting your hands in your lap. “It’s just where I knew I could always find any of them. There or here, my safety zones.”

“So then this piece, even though you can’t see the colors right now, and the feeling of safety with it…that’s your hidden meaning and inspiration.” 

You sigh, sinking a little further against his chest. You stare at the canvas, trying to see anything in the tree that, to you, is just a black and white tree on a canvas surrounded by colorful paintings all around it. A hideous darkness amongst bright and beautiful colors. 

How you feel every day without your brother by your side. 

“I guess.” You finally say, eyes flicking to his hand, putting the brush down and returning around your waist. You both stay silent for a moment, admiring your canvas. Your eyelids start to feel heavy, and you can feel them closing when you hear Yoongi speak.

“Fall was Karin’s favorite time of year.” 

You freeze, eyes flying open at the mention of his sister.

“Yeah?” your voice cracks, and if Yoongi notices it, he ignores it.

“Yeah. She was obsessed with the colors of the leaves, the fall drinks like that disgusting pumpkin spice latte, the fall outfits, the weather, all of it. It would've been fall if she could have one season all year round.” 

You don’t respond. The feeling of happiness over him talking about his sister was too overwhelming. He rarely discussed her in group therapy, never spoke her name until tonight, and always changed the conversation topic . 

“We would go to the pumpkin patch every year and pick out the quote ‘undesirable’ pumpkins, and she’d make pumpkin pie with my mom.” He laughs, but it’s sad. You want to turn around and comfort him, but you stay frozen in his arms, your thumb pressing into the space between your other thumb and index finger. 

“She wanted to learn how to bake so badly. To be like our mother and know all the family recipes. She wanted to be the one to make all the Christmas cookies every year, to be in charge of pies during the holidays, make everyone’s birthday cakes…” 

His voice trails off, burying his face into your shoulder in an attempt to hide from the silence. Your mind is racing with different things to say. You have no idea how to comfort him. No idea how to tell him he’ll be okay. How can you? When you don’t even believe it when someone says it to you? So you say the only thing you can think of. 

“I make a mean pumpkin pie.”

You can feel his torso shake as he laughs against your shoulder. He lifts his head, resting his cheek on your shoulder so he can look at you. 

“Yeah? You bake?” 

“Sometimes. Or I used to, before Kai… I would stress bake.” 

“Stress baking? That’s new.” You shake your head slightly. 

“Not really. I don’t know. There’s just something satisfying about baking when stressed. It’s like you’re baking your problems into the baked goods, and then you let other people eat it, thus taking away the stress.” 

“Hmm…I like that. Telling everyone your secrets without saying a word.” His voice is quiet as his hands slide away from your waist, landing on your hands. 

He pulls them apart, fingers intertwining with both, and goes back to hugging you, technically making you hug yourself. You slouch further against him, his lips right next to your ear. 

“Would you want to go to a pumpkin patch with me?” His voice is hesitant. He knows he’s walking a fine line in asking you to go out with him. But he has to at least try. 

You lean to the side a little, turning to look at the man whose arms are wrapped around you and whose lap you’re sitting in. Your eyes meet, and you can’t help but melt under his gaze. It’s warm and hopeful, and you want so badly to give in to the chance that maybe it could work. 

You should say no. 

End this. 

End it now and pretend nothing ever happened. 

End this. 

“Okay,” your answer is barely audible to either of you, but his soft smile that he’s trying to hide confirms that he did hear you. 

“Okay.” He repeats it back, giving a small nod against your shoulder. 

You bring your gaze back to the painting, no longer trying to see the colors, just needing an excuse to not look at him anymore. You lose your sense of reasoning around him, and you hate it. But you love having him around. There’s no winning situation when it comes to Yoongi, especially if Jungkook finds out. 

“Hey.” Yoongi’s voice pulls you out of your little mental spiral, and you look back at him, blinking away the tears you hadn’t noticed forming. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod quickly, making him let go of one of your hands so you can quickly wipe the tears. “I don’t know. It’s just a lot happening at once. I don’t know what’s what anymore.” 

“That’s fair. But it’s okay, love. I’m here as long as you need me.”

You wish he didn’t say that. 

You don’t reply, instead just giving another small nod. The hand that lets go of yours reaches up for your cheek, turning you to stay facing him.

“I know this is all happening at once, y/n. We’ve both been through something really shitty, and maybe this is a terrible idea.” Your eyes widen in panic, you know where this is going and immediately start preparing for a way out. 

“But I think it goes without saying that I really like–”

You thank every god to ever exist when your phone rings. You lean forward to grab the device, saving you from an awkward conversation, sliding off his lap in the process. 

Incoming Call: 🍞Ry-Bread👗

“Oh, fuck,” you stand up, eyes flicking from your phone to Yoongi sitting on the floor, looking confused and almost hurt, and back to your phone.

“I’m sorry. She…she rarely calls now,” you mutter, answering the phone before he can say anything and stepping into the living area.

“Ry? Everything okay?” You ask hesitantly, pacing around the couch.

The last time she called was three weeks ago, sobbing hysterically about how Kai’s death wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t date Jihyo. If you had just stopped sleeping or dating around, your brother wouldn’t be dead. So naturally, you’re terrified of what’s to come from the other line.

“Y/n? Y/n, I need you. I fucked up. Please, y/n. I know you hate me. I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry. But please, I need you.” 

Well, that’s different.

“Ry, where are you?”

“I’m at a club. The one by my work.” She sounds so broken and so drunk that your heart feels heavy just listening to her.

“What happened, Ry? Are you safe? Are you okay?” You put the phone on speaker and return to your room, walking right past Yoongi sitting on the couch, pants already back on. You put the phone on the table as you search for your leggings and bra.

“I’m okay. I just…my ride left me, and I can’t…I can’t get home.” Her mumbles are soft, tired, and hard to understand as you toss your clothes on, quickly moving to find your bag and keys. 

“Are there any Ubers or taxis in the area?” 

“No. Just come get me, please.”

“Okay, Ry, I’m on the way. Please, stay in the club until I’m there, okay? Promise me?” She softly agrees, and you hang up the phone, finally turning to Yoongi, who’s ready to go.

“Is she okay?” he questions as if he didn’t just listen to your phone call. 

“I think so? I don’t know. This is new. I have to go get her.”

“You’re going to walk over there?”

“I have no choice, Yoongi.” Your shoulders shrug as you usher him out the door and close it behind you, leaving the canvas behind. you decide it’s easier to just come back for it before class than going to a club with it in your hand. You make sure all the lights are off before locking up the front door as you both exit. 

“You do have a choice, y/n. The bus should still be running.”

“I’m not getting on the bus.”

“I’m sure there’s a rideshare in this area.”

“I’m not letting a stranger drive.” You state as you both get in the elevator. 

“We can go back to the library, I’ll get my car, and I can take you over there and take you two home.” 

“I’ve never experienced you driving. You’re as much of a stranger in that department as any taxi driver.” You bite back, quickly exiting when the elevator reaches the bottom floor.

“Not if you let me try.” 

“I don’t want you to try. I don’t need help right now, Yoongi. I just need to get to Ryujin. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you on Saturday.” You walk faster out the front door, turning down the sidewalk in the direction of Ryujin’s work. It’s not that far from the studio, but it’s starting to get chilly out, and your sweater is thin. 

“Y/n, it’s one in the morning. You’re not walking by yourself! I’ll come with you.” Yoongi practically shouts as he tries to catch up to you. 

“I’ll be fine.” You snap, turning to him when he finally does make it to you. That same look of confusion and hurt from earlier looks like the same look you often see on another man’s face, and you have to stop yourself and take a breath.

“I need to help her alone, Yoongi. It’s the opposite direction of the school so it’s better if you just go home and I’ll go find Ry and take her home. I’ll be fine.” 

“Y/n, you’re insane if you think I’m going to let you go alone.”

“Then I guess I’m insane!” You shout, not giving a damn about the time or the fact that you’re outside. 

“Thank you, Yoongi, for helping me finish my painting. Thank you for forcing me to go into Kai’s room, and thank you for helping me through my panic attack. But, fuck, I have to go, so just drop it and go home. I’ll text you when I get there if you want.”

Yoongi sighs, not wanting to bother with arguing with you. He knows he won’t win.

“Fine. But if anything feels off, let me know, and I’ll be there immediately.”

“Fine.” 

“Fine.” He snaps with an extra hint of an attitude. You ignore it as you both turn to walk in the opposite direction of one another. 

You’re going to have to apologize later. You’re always apologizing. It’s exhausting.