#softhours

[ilikechockymilk]

slaaaaaaay💐💐💐

firefighter!abby who comes in every sunday morning to your floral shop, tucked in a tiny corner downtown. you’re usually tucked away in the back, doing floral arrangements, calculating your inventory, organizing new shipments, or just avoiding others in general. an introverted nature is ingrained into your bones. so, dina takes over the front counter. she’s sweet, kind enough to engage in conversation. big brown eyes and welcoming smile always seeming to put the customer’s at ease, assessing their needs as they step foot in the door. 

firefighter!abby who comes in on the dot, half-past nine, right before her shift. her build, incredibly tone, clad in black cargos and her seattle fire department t-shirt tucked in. she greets dina with her blinding, pearly white smile. warming her up to the core as dina grabs the assortment that’s ordered every week. yellow roses, white lillies, and peach carnations make their way into the abby’s hands. she thanks dina, with the same somber look in her eyes before she exits with the same bouquet she always does. 

firefighter!abby who is out for the day, cup of coffee in her hand, ellie to her right telling her about the black-haired beauty she met at the local pub. swearing up and down there was a cute friend, supposedly, but it really just sounds like this is her only way in which her friend needs to enlist help from the hunky-blonde for assistance. 

“So, let me get this straight. You met this girl—” 

“Dina.” Abby pauses, blonde eyebrows quirk upwards. “Wait, does she work at a floral shop?” 

“Yes—” Ellie pauses, envy swirling in her emerald eyes immediately, “Fuck, Anderson, do not tell me you’ve fucked her!” 

Abby smirks, wanting to tease her spunky friend. “C’mon, are you fucking serious? No. Shit. Did you really fuck her?” Abby winks as she takes a sip of her black coffee, bicep flexing in the process. 

“Dude. How the hell am I supposed to compete with your greek god  fucking biceps?” Ellie lifts up the sleeve of her shirt, comparing her much smaller arms to Abby’s very toned and thick muscle. Even Abby’s veins are more prominent than hers. 

Abby giggles, “First off, you can’t but you don’t have to…this time. I just buy flowers from there and everyone kinda knows everyone. It’s Jackson.” 

“Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. Jesus.” Ellie nudges her shoulder, picking at her naibeds anxiously. “So, will you come so you can meet her friend?” 

Abby thinks for a moment. How bad could it be? It’s just one night, right? 

firefighter!abby who comes to the flower shop on a saturday this time. the doorbell rings signaling her entrance, but she doesn’t find dina working the counter like she normally does. you’re someone new, someone she hasn’t seen before, someone beautiful. so much so, she feels as if her feet have been glued to the hardwood floors. dear god, she looks like a goddamn idiot. she’s thankful you’re helping someone as abby tries to break from her caulking spell. 

firefighter!abby who takes note of how attentive you are with the customers even if your body fidgets as you help them but then you smile, it makes her melt. anderson, get yourself together, you have a date tonight. it’s just one, incredibly beautiful girl. you’re fine. she’s fine. before her brain can make one more stupid thought, you’re walking up to her. 

You smell of lavender, it coats Abby’s senses as you make a beeline for her. It could be the shop or it could be you. She believes it’s you. 

“Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, Abby reads the name tag on your chest and musters up somewhat of a coherent sentence. You start making the arrangement for her, it’s then she notices how familiar it is. 

It isn’t the flowers she typically chooses, the one she orders through the website of the shop, but the craftsmanship is identical. Down to the yellow ribbon to wrap it neatly, keeping the specially made bouquet in place. 

Abby’s blue eyes must light up with wonder because you smile, it's soft as it slips out of you, too quick for you to hide behind the wall you usually keep yourself within. 

“Um, you make all the arrangements here, right?” Anxiously, you dust your hands on the maroon apron tied around your waist. 

“Yeah, I would hope so. It’s my shop.” You’re not boastful about it, or snarky, it’s sweet. As if you’re proud and you should be. 

“Oh, sorry! I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I just, um—” Speak blondie, you’re making a fool of yourself. “ I come here every week and have just never seen you before s’all. It’s nice to match the wonderful shop to the even prettier owner.” 

Abby wonders why she doesn’t ask for your number or even try to. She’s not exactly a stranger to beautiful women. When she knows what she wants, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never has she ever halted, or had someone stop her dead in her tracks without even trying. 

In her mind, she’s finding excuses. It’s the sun’s fault for letting the light hit your eyes perfectly, saturating the color even further. Or the way she obsesses over your curves, or the joy seeming to radiate every time you smile. 

It can’t be any of those little things. 

Abby fishes for the wallet in her jacket pocket, before handing you her card, you finalize the transaction before handing the silver card back to her. Calloused fingertips press against yours, much softer than Abby’s, but it excites the two of you. 

Not that either of you spoke a word of it. 

“You’re girlfriend’s a lucky girl. It’s a thoughtful gesture—” but your eyes build a fright in them, a horror that you can’t take back. “I’m sorry! Oh my god. I didn’t mean to just, fuck, assume you had a girlfriend or that you’re into girls. Jesus, I don’t know what came over me. God.” 

Abby bites down a smirk as you anxiously beat your nail on the countertop as if you ruined the interaction. Impatiently needing this to be over. 

“S’okay, really, you didn’t assume wrong.” Mischievous pools of blue look you up and down, pointed canines kissing her pink lips as they bite at the flesh. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well—” Abby leans over placing her palm against yours, her fingertips linger on your skin, setting it ablaze. Releasing your grip of the bouquet and palming the wrapped flowers in her firm grasp.

“Not yet.” 

lmk what you think! hope you enjoyed it! ♡

[biteyoubiteme]

masterlist + rules

and so the lion fell in love with the lamb...

-ˋˏ✄┈requests : closed hard hours: open soft hours: open

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ im cam, 23, she/her, i dont bite but i want to >:p MDNI!! 18+ ONLY! ageless and blank blogs dni

˗ˏˋ most recent: cherry flavored wc: 3.4k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] currently working on dumdums 1kevent!

txt

key: ⟡ popular fics ᡣ𐭩 cams faves

yeonjun

melon float wc: 1.9k [NSFW] synopsis: a picnic in the park is always fun with your boyfriend. apologize wc: 1.7k (request) [NSFW] synopsis: you do have to say sorry when you hurt feelings. I make it sticky like wc: 1.2k [NSFW] ⟡ ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: you decide to ditch condoms. mango flavored wc: 3.1k [NSFW] synopsis: you just love to hate each other.

soobin

strawberry float wc: 1.28k [NSFW] synopsis: who cares if anyone hears you two? you haven't had space all week until now. perfect practice wc: 0.8k (drabble) [NSFW] ⟡ take a pic, it'll last longer wc: 0.9k (drabble) [NSFW] blue raspberry flavored wc: 1.5k [NSFW] ⟡ synopsis: he’s so cute when he asks, he’s even cuter when he doesn’t.

beomgyu

cola float wc: 2k (float event) [NSFW] synopsis: 'just one more game,' only you can't wait for it to be over. bubble gum flavored wc: 6k [NSFW] ⟡ ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: you’re his favorite camgirl he never thought he’d see in person.

taehyun

orange float wc: 1.7k [NSFW] synopsis: teasing your boyfriend all night isnt always a good idea but sometimes it is. sour apple flavored wc: 2.7k [NSFW] ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: someone or something is always waiting by your window at night, why not leave it unlocked and see what happens?

hueningkai

blueberry float wc: 1.83k [NSFW] synopsis: you get carried away after a day on the beach with your surfer boyfriend. mystery flavored wc: 2.7k [NSFW] synopsis: you didn’t think you would end up in the pervy boys bed until you did.

ot5 / multi member

busy signal wc: 4.7k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: yeonjuns away on a trip and sends you a suggestive photo leaving you needing the help of your other boyfriend kai to take care of you. fit check wc: 3k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: yeonjun buys you some new clothes and wants you to try them on for him and huening. wake up call wc: 1.39k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] synopsis: Yeonjun and kai wake you up after they've been out. movie date wc:3.7k (yeonkai x reader) [NSFW] ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: you're too scared to go to bed after you watch a scary movie with your boyfriends. cherry flavored wc: 3.4k (yeonkai x reader)[NSFW] ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: you go to a costume party with your boyfriends. 7 minutes wc: 1.7k (soogyu x reader request) [NSFW] synopsis: you play seven minutes in heaven with your boyfriend and his roommate beomgyu. txt with lollipops wc: 0.3k (drabble) [NSFW] black cherry flavored wc: 9.2k (ot5) [NSFW] ⟡ ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

txt boyfriend headcanons wc: 0.5k [sfw]

txt events whatever floats your boat (summertime event) dumdums (kinktober 24’) ⟡ ᡣ𐭩

stray kids

key: ⟡ popular fics ᡣ𐭩 cams faves

bangchan

am/pm wc: 7.4k [NSFW] ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: you start your new job at a book cafe and start falling for your coworker. pretty boy; bloody nose wc: 4k [NSFW] ⟡ synopsis: you're a doctor at a hospital where Chan comes after a fight. late shift wc: 3.77k (request) [NSFW] synopsis: you and your virgin coworker Chan share a bed.  something soft wc: 925 [NSFW] synopsis: you get high with chan.

hyunjin

redlightdesign wc: 5.2k [NSFW] ⟡ synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist.

han

study break wc: 2k (request) [NSFW] synopsis: you take a study break with your boyfriend.

jeongin

blind date wc:2.8k (request) [NSFW] synopsis: your friend invites you on a double date only your date doesnt talk to you all night.

rules:

-not all asks and requests will be answered or responded to. it will take me time to answer asks please do not ask when something will be written or when i will get to your ask if i even get to it. check out my wips post to see updates! -minors and ageless blogs should not mess with my blog! please have your age visible somewhere on your account!

🏷️ I will not add ageless blogs to my taglist! if you want to be added pls send an ask! and make sure you say what you would like to be tagged for! ex: 1kevent taglist, txt permanent taglist, skz and txt permanent taglist. if you want to be taken off the taglist just send an ask! my feelings wont be hurt lol -i only write for txt and straykids. pls do not ask me to write memberxmember i write throuple content but only what IM comfortable with!! i do not write male!reader sorry i only have experience writing fem!reader.

-yes pls! breeding kink, size kink, size training, somno, cam girl or cam boy fics, perv!member, throuple/poly, threesomes, cukolding, yandere themes, sub!member, chubby!reader, choking (m! and f!rec), crying, biting! -maybe! (mostly yes but depends on my mood) dubcon, hybrid, daddy kinks, parent!member, fantasy au, royalty au, -hard no! piss, shit, puke, incest, stepcest, fauxcest, underage idols, no illegal or huge agegaps, age play, race play, self harm, eating disorders, mommy kinks, idolxidol, noncon/rape, high school au, any form of abuse!

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[my313]

in beomgyu's room 🧸

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ bad - wave to earth & best friend - laufey

⋆ pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ summary: a reel of your most precious memories in beomgyu’s room(s), and the one time it’s also yours.

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: fluff, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, non-idol au, mention of mommy kink (sorry they have weird inside jokes)

⋆ word count: 3.6k

a/n: this isnt proofread n i dont think its my best writing, i wanted to focus on dialogue a lot more :0 but i just wanted to put out a lil something for gyu's bday <3 our talented pretty boy 🥹 anyways, i hope u enjoy reading this!

2009 

beomgyu’s room at eight years old is directly opposite from your window. you recently watched taylor swift’s you belong with me music video, and your unassuming neighbor who just recently moved in has become the center of the romantic production running in your little mind. 

when his family invites you over for dinner, you’re giddy to put a name to the pretty boy that’s been in your sights; only ever seeing him with a guitar strapped to his back when he walks by your house as you sit on the porch with a book. 

“hi,” he’s the one opening the door, greeting you enthusiastically. you assumed he would have been a shy boy, especially with the way he walked with his head down and never without an mp3 player and wired earphones. that was just one of the many surprises beomgyu had in store for you and your serendipitous friendship.

beomgyu smiles politely at your parents before pulling the door back and letting you all inside. your mother’s ushering you to the boy, hurriedly greeting his parents and leaving you in beomgyu’s care. 

you turn to him, shy and unsure of what to do, but beomgyu’s there to pull you out of your daydreams. he slightly tugs the sleeve of your shirt, chin tilted to the direction of the stairs. “wanna play mario kart in my room?”

you’re scanning the room to look for your parents, silently asking permission with your eyes when you catch your dad looking back at you. when he nods, you’re quick to relay it to beomgyu, who returns the biggest smile you’ve seen. boys are usually rough around the edges, either boisterous or freakishly hyper-aware of cooties, but beomgyu is different. he’s just loud enough to have you laughing until your tummy hurts, but he’s also a good listener. 

your feet dangle from the height of his bed while he sets up his wii. it only takes a few minutes of tinkering and confused grumbles before beomgyu joins you, sitting close and handing over the controller. 

“i’ve never played this game before!” your voice chimes with the game’s background music, fiddling with the buttons on your controller and accidentally pressing something that makes beomgyu laugh. 

“that’s okay,” he navigates through the buttons on the screen to take you back to the starting screen. “i’ll go easy on you.”

you may have gotten beomgyu all wrong, because as you inch closer to stealing his first place spot on your eighth round of playing, he throws a green shell at you, putting you off-course. 

“that’s so not fair, beomgyu!” you grumble frustratedly, shoulders slumped. beomgyu has a mischievous smile on his face; a different charm to the friendly one you encountered at his doorway, or the re-assuring one when he asked to play mario kart.

“i didn’t even know you could do that.” you whine, twisting your body left and right as if it would take away from your loss.

beomgyu’s mouth opens, but instead of hearing his squeaky voice, you both hear your mom’s. 

“yn, time to go home!”

you both tear your eyes away from the doorframe to look at one another. 

“teach me next time?” you plead, eyes shiny and hopeful that you’ve got a new friend to play with. someone who would always be next to you.

beomgyu feels similarly. he lets it show by nodding enthusiastically, his rectangular glasses pressed onto his rising cheeks, swelling from all the smiling he’s done tonight.

2017

“choi beomgyu!” you yell from the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the creaky railing despite beomgyu’s constant warnings of “you’re gonna fall off one day, y’know.”

you’re both sixteen years old, and tonight is prom. unlike the books you read, you were not serenaded by the most beautiful (subjective) boy in school; but like the disney movies, you’re at your best friend’s house and going as each other’s dates. 

the idea was initially disgusting to both you and beomgyu, suggested by menacingly blunt choi soobin during one of your escapades to the internet cafe. when prom started to come closer and closer, you and beomgyu would briefly text about it in jokes. the final straw was probably the fact that soobin actually got a date before either of you. so, with only three days to prom and a whole lot of spite, you and beomgyu hunted down matching corsages and sealed the deal.

you glance at the clock on the wall, ticking seven. sick of waiting on your bare feet, you lift the trailing end of your dress and make your way up to beomgyu’s room.

you don’t bother to knock, having seen the worst of beomgyu and his room already. the sight that greets you is anything but what you expect.

you expected heaps of clothes on the floor from his panicked frenzy of not knowing what to put on under his blazer; maybe some mismatched socks, and shoes tossed to every corner out of indecision. 

instead, you see beomgyu clad in a neat, black suit, with a navy blue dress shirt. his black hair, usually falling over his eyelashes, is tucked away to show off the face that many come to your classroom to see. just like how he was at eight, you know beomgyu is different; he’s delicate, never gruff, even when he picks you up from your doorstep with bedhead. 

beomgyu has always been pretty, but tonight, he’s charming. he’s handsome. just thinking it makes you want to regurgitate your words and flush them down the toilet. it brings upon this weird pit in your stomach that was never there when you were wiping your cheeto-dust fingers on beomgyu’s shirt as some petty form of teasing. that weird feeling you only got when someone cute walked your way, or someone flustered you to the point of developing a crush. you hope it’s nothing too serious.

“woah!” 

“what.” beomgyu deadpans, unamused by your exaggerated gasp. in reality, the pink on his cheeks already has you guessing that he’s shy. your beomgyu has always been one for compliments and sweet gestures, recalling how his eyes brightened every time your smaller hands patted his head when you were younger. 

“no need to get sassy, jeez,” you roll your eyes playfully, the smile on your face never leaving. “you look good. handsome.” 

“thanks,” he smiles sheepishly. it’s silent for a bit, until beomgyu says, “keep ‘em coming…”

“dipshit!” you smack his forearm. “you’ll hear more from everyone tonight, i bet.”

“i guess so,” he shrugs, looking at himself on the full-length mirror, trying to fold his necktie like the way his dad taught him. you move closer, your dress trailing behind you when you drop the sides in favor of helping beomgyu out with his tie. you’re so close; the kind of close you and beomgyu haven’t been ever before, except when you were ten and you fell off your bike, crashing onto him. 

you’re in front of him now, looping the fabric and not really looking at him. you can’t tell that he’s staring down at your concentrated face, smiling softly at how your tongue peeks out of your mouth in concentration. 

he hasn’t gotten the chance to compliment you back, but he’s noticed how beautiful you looked the minute you stepped into his room. his thoughts only get confirmed further now that you’re just a few breaths apart; your lip gloss has a sheen that’s tempting to swipe off with his own lips, and your eyelashes flutter in the way that beomgyu pictures in a few years time, where you’re waking up next to him every morning. 

“not from anyone that matters though.” 

your fingers stop working, peering up at your best friend. you don’t really know what to make of how his eyes glisten; how they look fondly at you, so you revert to the only thing you and beomgyu know will fix anything — fooling around, saying something stupid.

“are you saying if soobin complimented you, you wouldn’t give a fuck?”

“you make it sound like i’m in love with him.” you shrug, lips pursed as you continue the final touches of his tie. he bumps his forehead onto yours, making you curse. “what? bros can seek validation from one another!”

“so can i seek it from you, bro?”

you shake your head, amused by his unfamiliar use of the nickname. “whatever. are you done now?”

“no.” you groan. beomgyu pulls away from you first, going to his bedside drawer and fishing out a box. 

he come back to your side, this time, with the corsage you both overpaid for. beomgyu wraps it around your wrist and prompts you to turn your hand over, tying it up for you. you watch him intently.

unconsciously, your hands extend to caress his head, gently patting his styled hair. the moment your fingers graze his scalp, he freezes up for a few seconds before resuming, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest.

“i forgot to say earlier,” beomgyu returns to his full height, but his hand is still holding yours. he squeezes three times with his dimples peeking out as he smiles, a semblance of a confession that you fail to pick up on. “you look beautiful tonight, too.”

2021

it’s nearly midnight when you and beomgyu decide that the best activity to do when both of you are jobless on a friday night (saturday morning now) is to dye each other’s hair. 

you left an hour ago for a random supermarket run, and you return with a bottle of bleach, developer and a bunch of dyes that were on sale. possibly also a whole new stock of instant ramen. tonight was one of the nights you’re relieved your best friend has a car.

you’re both twenty now, in college and far away from home for a while. still, home doesn’t feel too far away when beomgyu’s still waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm building with disheveled hair. from your freshman year to now, beomgyu’s still been the same beomgyu that you love. you can admit that to yourself now, finally catching the culprit of that odd feeling in your stomach from prom night. though you’re unsure when you can gather the courage to tell him all that.

you’re pushing the door open to beomgyu’s dorm room, seeing his roommate taehyun slipping his shoes on with a backpack.

“are you running away?” you question, half-joking. “beomgyu can’t be that bad of a roommate. he’s like a pet goldfish sometimes.” 

beomgyu’s shutting the door behind you when he walks into your odd conversation with taehyun. “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said about me.” 

“goldfish are so cute though!” you reason with him, your tone higher in pitch as your silly charade continues. taehyun’s joining along too, laughing at the banter between you and beomgyu. “did you know the guy who created goldfish crackers made them because his wife was a pisces?”

“i’m a pisces,” beomgyu proudly states, chest puffed out with the bags of your pointless mission weighing down his shoulders. “would you make me a fish-inspired snack, yn? answer carefully, our relationship depends on it.” 

you try to ignore the fact that he says relationship, not friendship. details, details. but beomgyu’s all about details. he didn’t say anything for just no reason, so you can’t help but let the thought fester. for now, you keep up with the jokes.

“you don’t even like seafood, gyu.” 

“okay kids,” taehyun interrupts, heading towards the door. “i’m going to the gym. don’t burn the place up, please…” 

“i think i’m gonna burn something else.” you snark, looking up at beomgyu’s perfectly smooth hair. he catches your stare and consciously guards his head. 

taehyun leaves in the next few minutes, and it’s just you and beomgyu again. 

beomgyu’s eyebrows wiggle comically, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to the bathroom. “w-wait, wait!”

“what? backing out?” he challenges you, shaking you by the shoulders. “yn, you can’t!” his whining is convincing, but mostly because beomgyu has this pout that he doesn’t know you succumb to every single time he pulls it out — which is nearly everyday. 

“n-no..! just..”

beomgyu’s face softens. he takes your face between his right hand, squishing your cheeks repeatedly. he huffs mockingly, “fine, you can do mine first.”

in the next hour, beomgyu’s desk chair is situated between the bathroom door and the carpeted floor of the bedroom, holding it open to let the stench of the bleach disperse. you’re sitting on said chair with a towel on your lap, while beomgyu sits on the bathroom floor, legs folded to his chest. his back is leaning against the middle of the chair, but he’s essentially sitting between your legs as you clumsily paint bleach over random sections of his hair. 

“sorry if this turns to shit, beoms.” you snicker, layering more product on the strand between your fingers. you’re startled by beomgyu’s movements, his head tilting upwards slightly to look at you before looking back down. “you owe me free food for the rest of our lives if i end up looking like a dalmatian.”

“that’s fine,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder to motion for him to turn around and face you, trying to get the sections with his bangs. “at least i know we’ll be best friends forever.”

beomgyu fights the urge to say something stupid; something that might end the nights of you sleeping over and snuggling close to his chest — the things that pop up in his head range from “you’re so cute, i wanna kiss you.” to “i think i’ve been in love with you for years, so yeah, anyway.”

he still says something rather silly, but he thinks it’s just slightly less off-putting than telling your best friend who you grew up with that you’re in love with her. 

“technically, you’d be my sugar mommy.”

you raise a brow, “outing your mommy kink?”

“yes, and?”

fits of laughter fill the air, you have to place the brush back on the sink in case you smack beomgyu’s face from how you throw your whole body around when you laugh. he’s just the same, nearly snorting when he sees how red your face has become. 

at some point, you’re still trying to recover from giggling so hard, taking the brush back into your hands and picking out sections of beomgyu’s bangs. he chooses to perch his chin on one of your thighs with his head tilted up, as if admiring you deeply from the ground. beomgyu can ignore the prickly sensation settling on his scalp and the cold tiles of his bathroom floor freezing his butt off if he can see you from this view more often. it reminds him of when you used to let him rest his head on your lap that one time your families went on a road trip, and you both were stuck in the back. or the other times in his childhood bedroom where he’d fall asleep and wake up with your fingers tangled in his hair, head over a pillow on your lap. 

beomgyu thinks he fell for you then, that he’d decided that he’d kneel on the ground forever if you asked him to. he thinks he’d probably do much worse if the requests were coming from your pretty lips. 

you stop painting over his hair, signaling that beomgyu’s done. you think beomgyu’s going to get up from the floor, his legs crossed and obviously sleeping from how long you’ve had him sitting down there, but he’s still in-between your legs that it stops you from moving too. you’re about to joke around and tell him to get up, but you finally catch onto the fact that he’s looking up at you like he’s stargazing, or watching the prettiest sunset in the summer.

“gyu, what’s up?” 

it takes a while for him to respond. beomgyu feels his mind drifting to places he doesn’t know he’s allowed to be in; thinking about how he’s thought of waking up next to you since he was sixteen, and it might have sounded like trying to snatch the sun from the sky back then, but he feels an inkling that it’s not too impossible right now, at twenty, in his room and at your disposal. 

“do you remember when we went to prom together?”

you snort, reminded of your trembling hands when your parents asked you and beomgyu to take pictures and pose together, feeling his hand on your waist. “yeah, we looked pretty good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu draws circles and random patterns on your clothed thighs. “we did look pretty good together.”

“what?”

“what?”

“what did you say, gyu?” your voice comes out in a whisper, even when you try to be firm and persistent.

“you heard me,” he mumbles, finally looking away from you with the pink dusting his cheeks.

“no, i think i have to hear it again.” you tease, flicking his forehead to turn his attention back on you. “come on, say it.”

beomgyu bounces back, eyes trained on you as his lips move faster than any other time you’ve listened to him babble. he’s never even spoken this fast when he’s raging on his matches with soobin.

“jeez, yn, you wanna hear me say i’m in love with my best friend who i have also imagined living together with for the rest of my life?” 

he blinks, realizing what he just said. “well… i mean, you got it.”

you press your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out on beomgyu’s deer-in-the-headlights face. you’d feel terrible if you ruined this moment for both of you, so you try and keep it to giggles and a pleased grin.

“you sure you wanna live with me for the rest of your life, beomie?” you tease, bending down and bringing your face close to his. you enjoy the feeling of making beomgyu shy, and you know his guilty pleasure is when you’re rendered flustered and defensive. 

“that’s all you got from what i said?” he pouts.

“aw, baby,” cooing at him. if his hair wasn’t slicked with bleach, you would have fluffed it and patted it the way he always liked. “d’you wanna start apartment hunting and writing down our kids’ names?”

he blinks up at you, briefly taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it over to show his notes app. “yeah, go ahead.” 

“beomgyu.” you stare at him, slightly bewildered and freaked out, but also endeared. 

“i’m just joking!” he puts his hands up defensively. 

he taps your thigh again once his arms let up. “...you still haven’t said anything.”

“if it wasn’t obvious enough, choi beomgyu,” you start, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “i’m also in love with you. and i would love to be by your side forever.” 

2024 

it’s almost been three years since the night beomgyu and you confessed to each other. 

everything seems to come full-circle, because you’re twenty three and sitting on beomgyu’s lap while playing mario kart. you have vivid memories of being eight years old and telling beomgyu off for not going easy on a first-timer, but you’ve had years and years of payback for that moment by now.

beomgyu doesn’t need to go easy on you anymore, occasionally yelling in your ear when you sabotage him, only to trail kisses from your earlobe to your neck as an apology. 

as you finish up your last game as promised, you turn your head and press a chaste kiss on beomgyu’s cheek. sometimes, you still can’t believe your best friend has graduated from being just that, to being your boyfriend. beomgyu chases after your face as soon as you detach from him, his lips quickly pecking yours.

it took a while until you and beomgyu could live together, only finding a place you could both attest to earlier this year. but since then, you’ve made plenty of memories in every nook and cranny. 

you keep old habits like mario kart, and beomgyu purposely makes mistakes with his necktie just so you can tug on it, kiss him and fix it instead. but your life with beomgyu has new bits and pieces that flourished since sharing your love for one another. your shared baths that consist of gossip that beomgyu is overly enthusiastic of; taking selfies every night when you put on sheet masks for each other; and instead of picking you up with bedhead, you have the privilege of seeing beomgyu in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, picking you up from work and waiting for you to fill the passenger seat of his car.

it makes you think not only about all the lovely moments you’ve had with beomgyu, but the ugly parts that only you both know of each other. 

“i really hope this is a forever thing, gyu.” you blurt out. 

“playing mario kart with me?” beomgyu knows what you mean; he can tell you’re floating in your head when you ask him. still, he lightens the mood.

“yeah,” you chuckle. you suppose he isn’t wrong, you wouldn’t mind this at all. 

“baby,” he tucks a hair behind your ear. “look at me, hm?”

“i love you today,” beomgyu kisses your lips, moves to either side of your cheeks. “i love you tomorrow,” now he’s pressing one on your nose. “the day after,” the last one on your forehead. “until we’re old and wrinkly, i love you.”

your smile in the midst of all his kisses is as wide as it was when you first met beomgyu. you cradle his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbones then bumping your noses together briefly. it makes beomgyu laugh, the sound still as pretty as when he stumbled over his words trying to confess to you. “there’s no one else i would have fallen in love with other than you, gyu,”

“my best friend in the world.”

[biteyoubiteme]

one random headcanon for each txt member? any theme 👉🏻👈🏻

txt boyfriend headcanons!

warnings: none [sfw]

wc: 0.5k

an: for you @apeachty anything <333 also HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I picked these photos out just for you <333 just my little random thoughts hope you like them lol [m.list]

yeonjun .ᐟ

a total flirt always complimenting you on everything, fawning over every little thing you do. “you just look so pretty,” actively losing his cool if you match his freak. Loves compliments but when they come from you it’s like he can’t breathe, wanting you to repeat them over and over again, “Really? You think I did a good job?” he’s always pushing himself to his limits but after long nights and even longer practices he’s a limp mess needing to be held and cuddled. LOVES to have his hair played with.

soobin .ᐟ

quality time kind of love. Grocery shopping and study dates. Ask for help on work just so that he has an excuse to talk to you, watching you intently as you explain something to him. He always pays attention to every little thing you do, eyes following you around a room even if he’s not up out of his seat. Constantly sending selfies, he knows he's hot! he knows he’s cute! he uses it to his advantage. Your phone is full of his pics; a single line asking wanna go out? With a smiley dimple photo always works on you even when you’re busy

beomgyu .ᐟ

Puppy boyfriend like no other! He’s constantly following you around. He’s questioning everything and anything just to keep you talking. Makes playlists that are fully planned out and need to be played in order. Never shuffled! He’s so adamant about getting the little headphone plugs that let you listen to the same song from the wired headphones because of the aesthetic. Wants to write you a song! He writes you a song! Teasing you about everything until he’s feeling soft and just pops up with the constant, “You’re so nice,” “You’re so good to me,” shy little thank you’s thrown out after every little thing you do for him.

taehyun .ᐟ

loves a skincare night, will let you spend as much time as you want putting absolutely anything on his face just because you said it would make him have glass skin. Will sit back with his hands folded over his stomach watching the tv as stiff as a board with a sheet mask on. he just gets your sense of humor, smiling and showing his cute teeth off whenever you tell a joke even if it’s small. Tries to stay stoic when you’re around but is a giddy mess as soon as you enter the room. Loves physical touch! Needs to have at least his knee touching yours when you sit at tables, his shoe constantly tapping yours.

kai .ᐟ

I said it before but kai and you cuddled up on his bed of plushies watching slime asmr. He loves to lay his face against your hair. He loves it when you trace the line of his nose, ending right on his little freckle with a tap. He’s so shy sometimes it hurts but it’s because he’s so in love he’s scared you’ll get freaked out (even if you told him you won’t and you feel the same way.) he’s very peculiar about who plays what characters in video games. Thinks they say a lot about a person and always tries to set you up as the cutest character in the game when he has the chance.

[ilikechockymilk]

This one is sooooooooo perfect I’m gonna re-read it now and you all should too😌🫶🏼

new romantics.

pairing: modern!ellie x best friend's sister!reader

summary: ellie is your brother's best friend, and also a loser lesbian. oh, and you are "off-limits."

warnings: drinking, ellie being a loser maybe?? suggestive themes

a/n: this is purely self indulgent tbh... just needed some ellie pining and soft fluff... idk this trope makes me dizzy even though i am brotherless... pls enjoy.. AUDIOS AT THE END HEHE! also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.4k

"every night with us is like a dream."

ellie was excruciatingly uncomfortable.

okay, that was a little dramatic, but she still felt the sweat pooling at the back of her neck when you opened the door for her. this happened too often for her liking, you letting her into your house as she had to wait for her best friend to be ready to go. she’d curse him out for it later, but now she was stuck making small talk with you.

you, who was showing way too much skin today, the fleshy skin below your neck peeking through the loose tank top you wore. your skin looked soft and moist, almost as if you were glowing and ellie could smell the sunscreen coming off of you. you, who her best friend, and your brother, told her was off-limits. she often questioned why he said that, but as you flashed a toothy grin at her it became apparent. you were a dream.

if ellie was being honest with herself it pissed her off that he banned her from trying anything with you seeing as she had no game and you were just so easy to talk to. it’s not every day that you run into a pretty girl who also likes girls, and it’s not every day that you have an in with her brother. fuck you, sean ellie thought.

“hey, ellie. come on in,” you held the door open for her, closing in when she stepped through, “sean will be down soon.”

involuntarily, a blush spread across her face, pink picking at the freckles on her skin. her hand nervously scratched the back of her neck, a nervous tick she had picked up. 

“hey,” she was looking anywhere but your eyes, sitting at the marble island in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and reeling in the comfort of the cool material on her skin, “what’re you up to today?”

“some friends and i are going down to the lake to go swimming,” you followed behind her, leaning on the counter opposite of her, “maybe drink a bit. what are you and sean up to?”

“we had nothing planned,” she chuckles, fingers fiddling with the rings on her fingers, “sounds fun, though.” 

she watched as you turned towards the fridge, pulling two water bottles from it and stuffing one in your tote bag that hung off your shoulder. you handed the second one to her, your hands briefly touching. a shiver ran across her skin. you were being kind at most, but her cheeks still glowed red as she thanked you.

“you should come with,” you leaned back on the counter a small smirk on your lips, “didn’t really think that was your scene though. but i’d love for you to come — both you and sean should come.”

“uh — um, yeah,” she chuckled again, nervously opening the water bottle and taking a sip, “i’d come, i mean, yeah. that sounds cool.” she’d forever curse herself for how awkward she sounded. “thanks.” 

sean came down the stairs, his hair messy and phone in hand. he wiped the sleep from his eyes as he stepped into the kitchen, nudging your shoulder as he opened the fridge to find something to eat. 

“did you just wake up?” ellie asked from her place at the counter, a teasing and knowing tone to her words. 

“yes, i did,” he rolled his eyes, settling on a water and pulling it out of the fridge before turning to the two of you, “it’s saturday. let me live, el.” 

“uh, i think ellie’s gonna join us down by the lake.” you told him, causing him to shoot an odd look to ellie, raising his eyebrows as he took a sip of his water. “you should come too.”

“uh,” his eyes darted in between you and ellie, “um sure, that sounds… cool.” 

ellie didn’t even realize she was holding her breath till he agreed and she let out a deep sigh. she was just happy he didn’t ask any questions or wonder why she agreed. she knew she’d get the worst of it later, but now she just wanted to be uncomfortable in your presence. she didn’t realize how much of a loser she was until now. 

“well, dina’s coming for me now,” you smiled brightly at both of them, gripping the straps of your tote harder, “she should be here any minute, you guys can come with us.” 

sean looked at ellie, waiting for her response. 

“yeah, yeah,” ellie stood from her seat, scratching the back of her neck again, “that sounds good.”

-

when the car pulled up to the lake and you all piled out, ellie found herself sticking close to you and sean, obviously uncomfortable. she didn’t know why she was even here, was she that desperate? 

almost as if you could sense her discomfort you turned towards her, “you okay, ellie?” when she didn’t respond immediately you spoke again, “i know this isn’t your usual scene but we’re pretty chill.” you led her down to the table you and your friends had set the stuff up on and pulled a beer out of the cooler, “here, have a beer. loosen up.”

ellie reached for the beer hesitantly, but opened the lid and took a small swig, face setting up at the taste, “yeah, i’m fine, i just — i don’t party much.”

“it’s not really a party,” you giggled, taking your own beer out of the cooler and cracking it open. you took a long sip before speaking again, “it’s so funny, you’ve been friends with sean for so long and i feel like i know nothing about you.”

a small laugh left ellie’s lips as she looked up at you with a shrug. she hated nothing more than talking about herself, but she wanted nothing more than to talk to you. “well, ask away.”

you took another swig of your beer, squinting slightly at her as you watched her take another sip. “hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought, “what about how you and sean became best friends?”

ellie felt small under your gaze, shifting her weight onto one foot as she fiddled with the hem of her shorts that were now fraying. 

“well, we just used to hang out at lunch and one day i found out he liked savage starlight…” she chuckled, shaking her head, “nerdy, i know. but we just… clicked, y’know? then we just sat together every day, and — i guess the rest is history.” she shrugged again, taking another sip of her beer. “nothing too special, i don’t think.”

“well, i think it’s special.” you smiled at her, taking another long sip of your beer and holding it firmly in one hand, “if you could put up with my brother for that long then you are a saint.”

she chuckled again, shaking her head. “fair enough, fair enough. i dunno how he puts up with me either, to be honest.” another sip of her beer. “i’m sure he’d say the same about you.” 

you faked a gasp and scoffed, playfully pushing ellie’s shoulder with your free hand. “well, he shouldn’t, i’m an angel.” you giggled and took a long sip of your beer, finishing it and resting it on the table. 

when you pushed ellie’s shoulder she couldn’t hide the blush that was now seeming permanent around you, the eye contact between the two of you lingering for almost too long. ellie looked away, hand at her neck again. “if you say so,” she said in a half-whisper. 

“i do say so,” you whispered back. you took a step back and pulled your tank top off, revealing a blue bikini top covering your chest, leaving your shorts on. “you swim, williams?”

ellie’s eyes widened at the sudden flash of skin, all the previous color draining from her cheeks. her mouth fell open, only for a moment, before she cleared her throat to distract herself. taking another sip of her beer, she leaned against the table. 

“uh… yea, i’m… i’m alright.”

“alright?” you questioned, now removing your pants to reveal your bikini bottoms, the bottoms not leaving much up to imagination, “can’t have you drowning.”

ellie had to look away, she didn’t want to be a creep. she was staring at the water, the people floating and talking by the shore, sean who was talking to dina and jesse and somehow laughing and then back at you, mesmerized. “i’ll be fine, i promise. i just don’t have a swimsuit.” 

you looked her up and down. she had a loose t-shirt on and shorts, nothing special. “you got a bra on?” 

“yea.”

“then take the t-shirt off,” you said matter-of-factly, “and the pants too.” you smiled at her before turning on your heel and heading towards the water, “then come and swim.”

ellie’s eyes stayed trained on your ass you as you headed into the water. she almost didn’t notice when sean appeared next to her, almost as if he had been waiting. 

“what are you doing with my sister?”

“talking-“

“ellie-“

“what? i can’t talk to your sister?” she rolled her eyes as she pulled her shirt over her head to reveal her sports bra. “would the world implode on itself if i did?”

sean gave her a pointed look. “you’re not going to try anything funny, right?” he watched as ellie’s eyes drifted back to you again as she pulled her shorts off and put them on the table. “i told you she’s off limits, el.” 

“can i swim with her, sean?” ellie said, her voice dripping with annoyance, "is that okay with you? or is that off limits too?”

“c’mon, el,” he sighed, leaning on the table, “i’m serious.” ellie couldn’t help but roll her eyes again. 

“fine,” she sighed, looking up at him, face still set up from before, “i’m just swimming with her. nothing funny is happening. scouts hono-“

“ellie! you coming?!” you called from the water.

“nothing funny,” he repeated.

“nothing funny,” she echoed back. 

ellie stepped down into the water with you, ignoring how awkward it all felt. she was in her underwear trailing after her best friend’s sister. the beer had left a light fuzz behind her eyes, making the water bearable as her calves got soaked in water. she was grinning from ear to ear as she approached you, the sun now setting behind you, casting a yellow glow on your skin. you shook her from her thoughts, splashing cold water in her causing her brow to wrinkle. 

“took you long enough,” you stood in the water in front of her, the water where you were appearing to be deeper as in came up to your thighs, “what were you guys talking about? sean seemed serious.” 

ellie wiped the water off her face, glancing back to sean at the shore and then back to you, “uh— he just wanted to remind me that you were — that you… are,” she cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. this was the longest amount of time she had spent in your presence and she was already drowning. she didn’t want to lie to you. “off-limits.”

this smile on your face fell as you adjusted your posture, “wait what?”

ellie’s breath caught in her throat, “uh… y’know. like he didn’t want me… well,” her hands came up in a weird gesture between the two of you. “you know.”

no, i don’t know,” you shook your head in disbelief, looking back at him and then back at ellie, taking a step closer to you, “did he tell you not to — to, flirt with me?”

ellie felt the air around her tighten as you stepped into her space, you were dangerously close, “well— uh— sorta. yeah, he did.”

“what the fuck,” you whispered under your breath.

“well, would you—“ where the fuck was this confidence coming from, “would you mind if i did?” she watched as your eyes widened and brows furrowed in confusion before your lips curved into a smile. 

“oh — uh, no. i don’t mind.”

“cool.” ellie smiled. 

as the sun began to set you and ellie talked, floating together in the deep end, occasionally laughing nervously when your feet touched. at some point you began a game of tag, running across the shoreline and splashing water in each other’s faces. it was all innocent and gummy, all of the panic that was usually stuck in ellie’s head dissipating for a brief moment in time as your bodies became silhouettes to those on shore. 

your body had grown tired and asked ellie to come get another beer with you, she smiled and agreed, wiping her wet hair from her face. 

“do you think sean will be mad?” she questioned as she watched you open the cooler again, pull out two bears, hand one to her, and sit on the picnic table. you pulled your towel out of your tote bag and wrapped it around you, tapping the place beside you for ellie to sit. 

“i don’t care if sean gets mad,” you opened your beer, clinking your glass with hers as you wrapped your towel around her back, both of you now sharing the terrycloth, “it’s so fucking stupid.” 

ellie’s face was warm again as the wet skin of her shoulder burned against yours, “it is stupid.”

“it is,” you reiterated, taking a swig, “he probably thinks i’ll corrupt you or something.”

“he might,” ellie chuckled, “i can be corrupted, i’ll be honest,” she shrugged, taking her own swig of her beer, “maybe you will corrupt me.”

you looked over to her, smirking slightly as your voice went low, “you flirting with me, williams?” 

her throat felt tight.

“maybe i am,” she leaned closer, “is that a bad thing?” 

you pursed your lips, looking back out at the water and taking another sip of your beer. ellie’s eyes flicked down to your lips briefly. what was happening to her? 

“not a bad thing no,” you giggled, “thought i was…off-limits.”

“you are… but i feel like you don’t exactly mind.” her voice was low, an innocent smile plastered on her face, “do you mind?”

you leaned in a little too close for her liking, breath blowing puffs of air over her lips as you spoke. behind the two of you fireworks went off in the distance, scattering hues of blue, silver, and red across the sky, “i don’t mind.”

ellie was fucked. 

ai audios:

[my313]

spring cleaning ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ choi beomgyu

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ sukidakara - beomgyu (og: yuika)

⋆ pairing: high school sweetheart!beomgyu x gn!reader

⋆ summary: in an attempt to declutter your home for the spring, you find an old camcorder filled with beautiful memories of your first love.

⋆ warnings: fluff, mentioned past heeseung (enhypen) x reader, jealous beomgyu, established relationship, italics are flashbacks, beomgyu is a musician? so technically kind of an au, insinuated that beomgyu and reader were high schoolers in the 2000s

⋆ word count: 2k

a/n: LISTEN TO HIS COVER NEOOOWWW!!! god i love him so bad...... this is also not proofread sry i wrote this out of pure delusion LOL. stuff might sound bad omg i just wanted to write fluff 😭 banner by @/saradika <3

it's nearly midnight when you decided to rummage through your drawers, cabinets, and now, your closet. while dipping your head into the various sets of clothes, you reach for a heart-shaped box with a matching pink ribbon sitting on the lid.

inside, you find an assortment of trinkets from your days in high school. lilac envelopes with silly faces drawn on the seal, addressed to you; postcards from your distant relatives; your university acceptance letter; even a nasty tube of your favourite (expired) strawberry lip balm.

what really distracts you from your spring cleaning antics is the silver camcorder that sits in the very middle of the box.

the clunky piece of technology is covered in dust and mismatched stickers, obvious once you bring it out of the black hole that is your closet and into the warm light of your bedroom.

you don't expect it to start up with the way it's been abandoned for years, but the familiar jingle fills the silence and you're met with a pixelated view of your carpeting. you habitually click on the gallery, immediately flustered with the thumbnail that greets you.

a fond smile makes its way to your lips as the video plays. it's shit quality, as expected, but even with all the pixels distorting the boy's face, you recognise him. it comes easy, with beomgyu's round eyes nervously shifting from the falling cherry blossoms and onto the lens.

you recall this specific spring. the one right before you were set to graduate. you remember how odd beomgyu seemed the entire walk back to his house until he clumsily led the way to the little park a few minutes away from his childhood home. your impromptu shoot now becoming a memory to savour.

beomgyu keeps his distance from you as you take the longer, more scenic route to his house. he had it all planned out. today would be the day he'd tell you that he liked you. the first week of spring, the cherry blossoms falling perfectly; it was as if the universe and the gods of romance were aligning everything to his favour. he even got your favourite strawberry yogurt drink on-hand, poking the straw through the film and handing it to you proudly when you gasp and proclaim your gratefulness to him.

unfortunately, that didn't play out the way he fantasised the night before, sprawled out on his futon with a dopey grin on his face until morning came. even so, he didn't let his sleep deprived self peek through for a minute since you exited the school gates.

that was until you mentioned lee heeseung.

"heeseung asked me to the internet cafe this weekend," you begin, harmlessly conversing about your day like you usually do. you take a sip of your drink, then extend it to beomgyu, offering a taste.

he leans down to catch the straw between his lips, heart fluttering ever-so-slightly at the thought of your lips just being on that flimsy plastic a few moments ago. clearly, that gesture wasn't enough to keep his mind distracted from the mention of lee heeseung.

beomgyu tries to remain calm. internet cafe? surely, a thing friends do. you've tagged along with him and soobin a few times.

"he said it was a date."

which explains your current predicament. it's obvious that beomgyu is upset, lips jutted into a pout and brows furrowed. his hands stay stuck in his pockets as if they'd been glued there, so unlike his usual behaviour. on days like this, beomgyu typically links arms with you, or tugs on the top hook of your backpack to ease the weight off you, or even sling his arms around you with a mischievous grin. right now, you're sure this is the farthest beomgyu has been from you.

the silence drapes over you two like a stuffy blanket. you're thankful for the loud honks and bicycle bells in the background, even appreciating the yelling of the street vendors as your typically boisterous peer is quiet.

a bike chaotically speeds through your side, the rider repeatedly hitting the bell as they make their way to you. beomgyu quickly grabs your arm and trades places with you before the bike catches up, him on the road-side and you by the fences. once the bike passes with a hurried apology, beomgyu lets go of your arm and maintains the former distance.

"...sounds like a shit date, to be honest." the silence shatters. he mutters, huffing out a breath as he walks just an inch closer to you, as if trying to be a barrier between you and the road.

you blink at him, lips flat and eyes unassuming. just relieved he's talking to you. "you think?"

"yeah, why would you wanna be inside when the streets look like this.." he motions towards the cherry blossom trees surrounding you both. "..right now. d'you even like him enough to say yes?"

"i dunno. he's cool, i guess. isn't he your friend?"

"just played a few games together."

his responses are straight to the point. none of his beomgyu bullshit spinning your conversations through circles, which you admittedly did enjoy.

"is something... wrong? did you guys fight? i can beat him up for you if i go." you try to joke, your eyes never leaving beomgyu's face to catch his reaction.

he winces, "uh, no, not really. that- that's not the problem..."

your silence prompts beomgyu to keep talking, but his eyes don't meet yours. instead, he's staring at the pavement, picking up the creases on his shoes he'd never seen before, distracting himself by counting the petals he comes across. none of it calms his heart or clears the lump in his throat though.

he abruptly lifts his head and stares back at you. a pleasant surprise that causes you to blush at how his eyes sparkle so brightly. he sighs defeatedly, not wanting to be upset any longer. with one look at you, beomgyu's stubbornness weakens, a small smile on his lips as he closes the distance between you both.

his shoulder purposely clashes into yours, "it's really pretty at the park near my house right now. wanna see?"

you pause the video upon hearing the doorbell ring. with a knowing grin, you take the camcorder with you to the door. once you pull it open, the comforting sight of your boyfriend floods your vision.

"m'home~" he greets in a sing-song tone, arms spread wide awaiting your welcome home hug that he always craves after hours at the studio.

beomgyu's eyes travel from your sunken but excited eyes to the familiar thing in your hold. he blinks repeatedly, craning his neck up stiffly to look up at you again. comically, he brings an accusatory finger to the front with a nervous chuckle.

"is that...?"

"yup!" you beam enthusiastically, like you had waited for him to step foot into your shared apartment to eat him up.

knowing what was inside the camcorder, beomgyu could say it was similar. his face feels warmer despite the late night breeze still whisking him away from behind. you tug at his outstretched arm and pull him inside, shutting the door.

usually, you'd ask how work was, or pester him to let you listen to a new song he worked on. tonight though, none of that.

beomgyu sits next to you on the sofa, cheek nuzzled against your head. his downward gaze is alert to every button you press on the camcorder, cringing slightly at the memory of his partly successful confession.

beomgyu leans in closer to have a better look at the viewfinder. he chooses to focus on something else entirely even as you're sucked into the pretty pinks of the sakura flowers and the shaky footage of his round head.

the wind was just slightly unforgiving that day, petals swirling around the park. you're a few steps behind beomgyu. he's biting the inside of his cheek, stare stuck to the pavement, desperately wishing you'd speed up and start walking beside him.

impatient as ever, beomgyu decides he'll just slow down for you. he's not very subtle about it though, opting to halt entirely and turn his head in your direction. beomgyu wants to see the surprise in your face; eyes wide and cheeks pink. instead, what greets him is the lens of your camcorder, a hand-me-down from your relatives that you couldn't stop talking about over text just the other week.

beomgyu strides forward and you stay still in your spot, tightly gripping the camcorder. "beomgyu, say hi to the camera!"

your voice echoes with excitement, beomgyu doesn't have to peer beyond the camcorder to know that your lashes are kissing the apples of your cheeks with the way you're smiling widely. he wants to be the one to keep you beaming like this for years and years on end.

you're about to back away as beomgyu gets too close for the camcorder to film him and the view. then, you feel beomgyu's lithe fingers over your own, tugging on the camera, extending your arm by result, and raising it to his eye-level. beomgyu makes sure you're looking at him through the viewfinder. with a lopsided smile and head cocked to the side, beomgyu braces himself for what's to come, "hey, i like you."

your arm falls limp as he releases his grip on you, shocked by his confession. he doesn't let you process it, though, running towards the opposite direction. it takes you a moment to run after him, camera long forgotten. "choi beomgyu..! you!"

"why are you running away from someone you like, huh?!" you huff out, catching your breath.

when you look up, you can't help but point the camera at beomgyu again. with plenty of cherry blossom trees in the background, beomgyu center in the frame, wind trying to pull his necktie away, how could you not? the boy you like, the one that just confessed to you on one spring day, looked too beautiful.

the camcorder manages to pick up your words amidst the scratchy noises of the wind. in a whisper, one can hear your voice, "i like you too, beomgyu."

"wow, i was really handsome since birth, huh?" he poses confidently, his lips and warm breath kissing your hair as he speaks.

you roll your eyes with a smile, and you don't disagree. you never do and it makes beomgyu blush and grin. if he wasn't too comfortable in your warmth, he would be laying down on his stomach with a coquettish smile and his feet kicking up and down.

"yeah, s'why i'm engaged to you, no?" you blow a raspberry at him.

an exaggerated gasp paired with a dramatic drop of his jaw has your stomach hurting from laughing too hard. "i thought you loved me!"

"i do!" you giggle, biting down your lips to stop more fits of laughter spilling out. you squish beomgyu's cheeks together, lips pursed and begging to be kissed. so you do. "you and your pretty face, baby."

your laughs settle down into echoes of contentment, beomgyu's palm rubbing against your belly as if soothing your self-inflicted ache. plus, beomgyu would stick his limbs to your body if he could.

he presses his cheek against your head, "did you know i liked you even before that spring?"

you hum in thought, resting your hand atop the one on your tummy and filling in the gaps between his fingers with your own. you smile even harder upon feeling the cold metal band of your engagement rings. "nah. i thought it was impossible, honestly,"

"didn't even really think you thought of me like that until then, bomu." you admit shyly, playing with your interlocked fingers. beomgyu's lips purse in thought, "i thought i was pretty obvious though,"

"was buying you strawberry milk everyday and carrying your backpack home even if we lived in opposite directions not obvious enough for you, honey?"

"well... it's obvious now!"

"yeah," he beams that sweet, silly, sly beomgyu half-smirk that you've always loved. he releases your hands momentarily to raise his fingers to the light, showing off his ring. "we're so locked in now."

[nikitunez]

ζ  ゜✿ 。𝙀𝙉𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙉'𝙎 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𖥧 𓂃  ᨒ  ୫

ຊ pairing : enhypen x gn!reader ຊ genre : fluff, headcanon ຊ words : 434 ຊ contains : hugging, kissing, mentions of food ຊ maya's notes : thank you anon for requesting this! i loved writing it! it kinda did turn into a preferred love langues thingy in the middle but i wanted to make each member's hc as unique as possible lol 😭 please leave feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! i would really love to know how everyone found it hehe ❤ if you would like to read more from me, my taglist and requests are open as well! but that's all for now, enjoy reading :)

𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙂 : honestly, he loves literally any kind of physical affection. but to name a few, there is running your fingers through his hair, giving him tight hugs as well as cheek and forehead kisses, saying i love you, and finally complimenting him for little successes like winning a game or making some good ramen.

𝙅𝘼𝙔 : he's kinda a high maintenance boyfriend and loves when you buy him gifts. it doesn't matter if they're cheap or expensive because for him, everything you gift him is priceless. the gifts could be anything from clothes to food to a short little trip to some nearby town.

𝙅𝘼𝙆𝙀 : if jay is a materialistically high maintenance boyfriend, this boy is high maintenance in every other department. i'm talking words of affirmation and physical affection and kind gestures. give him everything and he's a happy boy. but more specifically just remember to kiss his lips and tell him that you love him every thirty minutes if you can.

𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉 : more than cuddling with him or giving him kisses just make him a large cup of delicious hot chocolate and i promise you he will get down on one knee and ask you to marry him right then and there. but he also really likes when you offer to wash his hair for him for no reason because it's such a silly yet soothing thing to do.

𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝙊 : who needs a massage chair when you exist? he loves when you sense that he's tense and wordlessly start soothing his muscles. for starters, it feels so amazing and relaxing. but also, he realizes how much you care about him and how intuitive you are when it comes to him and all of those emotions just make him feel so grateful to have you.

𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙒𝙊𝙉 : just hold his hand and watch as his eyes fill with love. he likes the way your hands fit together so perfectly, and you don't have to be walking somewhere for him to want you to hold his hand. that and whenever you poke or kiss his cheeks. he swears he hates it but deep down it makes him all warm and fuzzy inside.

𝙉𝙄-𝙆𝙄 : back hugs. make him feel like he's in a kdrama and he will cherish you for life. also whenever you push his hair out of his eyes for him. the way you smile at him when he meets your eye makes his heart skip a beat. he also likes when you feed him. whenever you're eating together, you construct the perfect bite for him and hold your palm under his cheek while asking him to open wide. he loves it.

© nikitunez

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Stray Kids When They Have a Crush on You

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

Pairing: OT8 x gn!reader Genre: headcanon, fluff Warnings: none

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

1. Bang Chan

Writes a lot of songs about you 

Will make physical contact, like putting his arm around your shoulders or his hand on your back 

A gentleman; drives you home all the time and has you call him when you're safe inside 

Very casual around you, but slowly develops deeper feelings  

Asks you to hang out with him and his friends a lot 

Very proud of you and wants to introduce you to everyone 

Genuinely looks up to you and asks you for advice a lot 

2. Lee Know

Teases you a lot but it's very flirty 

If anyone tries to tease him about you though, he will give them the death glare 

Will absolutely deny liking you if anyone asked 

Texts you a lot 

Remembers every single thing you tell him 

Will not tolerate anyone who says a single unkind thing about you 

Jealous when you talk to other guys 

When you play with his cats, he will be chill on the outside but literally swooning inside 

3. Changbin

The one who makes excuses to constantly see you 

When you're around, he'll stretch his arms back so he can "accidentally" flex his muscles 

So down bad for you and everyone knows- except for you, that is 

Would keep a photo of you in his pocket and take it out randomly and smile at it 

Acts tough but is really shy about how he feels 

Wants to be around you always and invites you everywhere 

Tells you to call him cute nicknames

4. Hyunjin

He'd write poems about you in his little journal 

Would also sketch you when you aren't looking  

Zones out a lot just thinking about you; a big daydreamer 

Buys matching keychains for you both, but he's too shy to give it to you 

Falls slowly but it's very intense, it might even be love 

He'd be sleepless and a little tortured over you 

Would have a collection of random things that remind him of you, like plushies or stickers 

Makes playlists of songs that make him think about you 

Unconsciously is inspired by you; for example, if you wear a cardigan one day, he'll wear one too the next day, without even realizing it 

5. Han

Has a goofy smile on his face always 

He would try to be suave and cool, but his heart flutters every time he encounters you, and he ends up getting tongue-tied 

Would search for cheesy pick up lines on google 

Would obsess over every small interaction with you 

Lowkey would stalk you online just for "research" 

Would not shut up about you to his friends 

Would bring you snacks to share constantly and then eat like half of them because he's nervous around you 

Makes scenarios about you both in his head before he falls asleep 

6. Felix

Everyone ships you guys together 

He always brushes the teasing off with a smile 

Brings you sweet gifts like flowers and jewelry that reminds him of you 

Brainstorms the perfect way to ask you out 

Carries your bag for you even if it's not even heavy 

Wants to know all about you and asks a lot of questions 

Hanging out with him feels a lot like you're dating even if you're not because he is so attentive and sweet 

7.  Seungmin

The one who wouldn't even know he has a crush on you 

You couldn't guess that he likes you because he's very nonchalant 

He likes to hang out with you and buy you coffee 

His crush would manifest in acts of service 

Notices every single thing; if you run out of gum, he'd go right away and buy a new pack for you, even if you didn't ask him to 

When he eventually realizes his feelings, he will be honest with you about them 

Very classic and classy; no drama 

8.  I.N.

Straight up will tell you that he likes you and if you reject him, he will try to win you over 

The flirty one who gets you flustered 

Wants to wow you with his fashion and hotness 

Would have a "boyfriend material" Pinterest board to inspire his outfits 

Tries to meet your parents to impress you (and they end up loving him) 

Drops natural pick-up lines that Han wishes he could serve 

Super smooth; no nonsense 

Straight up will tell you that he likes you and if you reject him, he will try to win you over 

The flirty one who gets you flustered 

Wants to wow you with his fashion and hotness 

Would have a "boyfriend material" Pinterest board to inspire his outfits 

Tries to meet your parents to impress you (and they end up loving him) 

Drops natural pick-up lines that Han wishes he could serve 

Super smooth; no nonsense 

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

TAGLIST @chansburgah @hee0soo

[biteyoubiteme]

i keep thinking about a snowy winter with yeonkai, fireplace, cozy patterned rugs and blankets, christmas themed mugs filled with hot chocolate and marshmallows, baking christmas cookies (but icing and flour ends up all over the kitchen), matching pajamas!!

i am stressed with school and this scenario is calming me down. it seemed cute and i wanted to share it with my fav writer 💗

cozy holiday sfw yeonkai x reader thoughts

warnings: sfw, throuple/poly, established relationship, no mxm, just cozy christmas/holiday vibes.

wc: 0.4k

an: stop you're the sweetest omg and I hope you get a good rest in with any upcoming breaks you have. I swear you could hear me just turning on the chirstmas music today- I love your cozy yeonkai thoughts and I hope you like this <333 [m.list]

It's the coziest time of the year for your shared apartment. Pulling out the accumulated Christmas decorations the three of you have collected over the years of spending the holiday together. Planning out exactly what Christmas pajamas the three of you will order, knowing that yeonjun in particular loves to wear the pants year round to bed so the decision is very serious. 

The three of you mutually agree to try and go as long as you can without turning the heater on fully, keeping it just warm enough so that you won't freeze but you won't feel smothered in heat when the fireplace is burning. But it's mostly an excuse to cuddle, “I'm so cold,” yeonjun will pout even sitting right on the floor next to the heat, arms open and waiting for you. The bed and couch decked out in all the holiday throw pillows and blankets. Wrapping up together under them, sandwiched between the two of them in bed, warming up cold feet under your flannel sheets. 

Every year you three buy a gingerbread house and struggle to put it together, frosting-covered fingerprints decorating all of your cheeks, and tips of your noses. Warmed hot chocolate dotted with little marshmallows, passed around every time you three sit to watch silly holiday movies on the tv. Playing classics and the cheesy hallmark movies that huening says he doesn't like but always finds himself smiling over. “He was a prince the whole time!” “Kai this is basically the same plot as the last one. How did you not see it coming?” “I was distracted by the cute romance,” 

The three of you trying to bake cookies, a tradition you uphold to give them out to your friends. And one batch is always somehow burned and needs to be redone after you all get distracted. But it's hard to listen to the timer when you're singing Christmas songs, dancing around the kitchen in your socked feet, slipping on the spilled flour that somehow got everywhere. Giggling when you pull out the forgotten sheet pan to see that the dough had spread your little sugar cookie people into burnt-edged blobs. 

Decorating the cookies that turned out well, Kai and yeonjun always make cookies of each other and ask you to judge who did better. Sprinkles are just everywhere by the end of the night. Yeonjun always swipes his frosting covered thumb over your bottom lip just to say, “Oh you've got a little something right there, let me get it for you,” kissing away sweetness. Kai smiles so wide when you dot every freckle on his face with a spot of frosting just to kiss it all away.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[starryzerose]

minors free to interact

ive been getting back into epex recently. so theyll be getting a little something. 🫣🫣🫣

thinking about nights with epex. just relaxing as much as possible with the boys after a long tour. theyll be so tired. yet still want to stay awake to talk with you. a few soft kisses are shared between you and the boys before they fall asleep.

feel free to give your thoughts on this. 🤗

© starryzerose 2024

[hoebaring]

Open Books (49) | Kim Namjoon

Tags/Warnings :- Child abuse, domestic violence, traumatized characters, bullying, self harm, mentions of toxic relationships, angst. I know it’s dark but trust me it gets better! namjoonXreader, Namjoon and Y/n, A slow burn romance, fluff, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, self love, healing, etc.

Cross posted on Wattpad

Written by Author G

Word Count :- 1.2k words

I'm back y'all!

Masterlist   Previously  To be updated next Monday

~Their Experience : Their Truth~

Y/n has always thought of being "in love" as more than just an emotion.

She's always adored how people refer to the sentiment as if it were a place.

As if it were somewhere one could live.

As if it were home.

It's been a few months since they had uttered those sacred words to each other, raw and true passion evident behind the teary-eyed iris', confirming with each other that the comfort they felt only seemed to grow with each passing day.

That day was an eye-opener for them. 

It showed them that... love isn't always pretty, and that to be able to get through the ugly times together, to strive for survival without giving up and losing faith in their truth would only serve to mold their relationship into one with rock solid foundation of unbridled value and respect.

It also showed them that this wonderfully passionate emotion comes with a very intimate responsibility. That is, to keep the other's heart safe.

This responsibility can, at times, prove to be quite difficult to keep, especially when one feels the urge to protect themselves first.

However, they learned that it is alright to want to keep themselves safe too, not from each other, but, from certain emotions that may not exact to what we call 'pleasant'. After all, what they had gone through, (which a small part of them still is) isn't something that one can just pass by without ups and downs.

However, that is a part of life. The feelings of 'what if', and 'maybe', keep us going. The never ending struggle keeps us sane. It shows us that to live, rather than merely exist as mortal beings on this earthly plane, a few unpleasant emotions are but natural. And to truly experience all pleasantries that life has to offer, to truly appreciate them, one must get through those bad times.

Why? you might ask; The answer is simple. The art of appreciation is one that comes with longing and healthy desire.

That day was more than just an eye opener for them. It was a loud promise in hushed whispers that they wouldn't hide themselves when in pain because of the other. It's unfair that they laugh together, but cry alone. 

And this promise shines through every fiber of their being, becoming their guiding light into the world of unknown that's waiting for them.

That day, that hour, that mere moment was enough to convince them that they give each other enough hope to live with grace even whilst being caught amidst a strong mind, and a fragile heart.

However, it hasn't been as easy to convince the man responsible for the 'commotion'. The one who stands with his amicable face and stout belly, patting Jimin's back fondly, praising the group for how well of a job they've done. 

They've just finished recording the demo for their first sample song, and Bang Si Hyuk couldn't be any happier with how far they've come.

They were due for their debut in a few months, and Y/n is ecstatic! Namjoon can see it too, for her eyes say it all as they warp into crescents as pretty as the moon itself, her smile brighter than the celestial object's rays on a luminous night.

They've come a long way.

A lot has happened over the past months :

Y/n's acceptance as a candidate for the next academic year's profile under both psychology and creative writing in Oxford beside Ji-Hoon (much to Namjoon's adorable envy with regards to the senior).

The launch of her website with the help of her wonderful mentor.

Bo-ra's crucial role as speaker in her department's art exhibit this month.

Namjoon and the group's steady growth towards near perfection that is enough to put a mark on the calendar, to put a steady pin on the day that will mark their well earned opportunity to finally lift off into the sky that they oh so desperately want to soar in, with wings that will no doubt, tremble with equal excitement every time that they do.

Y/n can't seem to take her gaze off of him as she leans against the doorway, a fond smile on her face as she watches him hug Bang Si Hyuk tight as the older man pats him on the back for a job well done. 

Oh, how her mind reels with joy at the thought. Nothing, not even the mischief that his bandmates indulge in can seem to help tear her gaze away from Namjoon. No. Her eyes have zeroed in on him, for she can't imagine a day when she could get enough of the silly boy.

He's come so far! And there's no where to go but farther.

And as he moves to walk towards his group to join in on the chit chatter, her eyes meet the producer's, and her heart seems to stutter. With a silent nod of his head, he simply gestures towards Namjoon with an assuring smile. That says it all. That's all that's needed to be said. For months now, they've been trying to convince the cheery looking man that being together will not affect Namjoon's career.

That they were responsible. That they could be strong for each other. At first, Namjoon felt.. guilty. Insecure. He felt guilty for putting her through all this. She doesn't deserve to be put to test by a random stranger that hasn't witnessed how strong of a character she has, how strong of a person she is. She's proved it time and again, to herself. Why is it that she has to it again all simply because of his career?  And that guilt and insecurity tampered with him for a few days, and consequently, her. It made him feel like he didn't deserve to be around her. The guilt consumed him.

Y/n, on the other hand, did everything she could to try and help make him feel secure again. She tried. A bit too much. She started overcompensating for everything, and soon, they didn't know how to act around each other. A few days passed by, and the minute they realized how.. awkward they got around each other, they broke down. 

They couldn't afford to lose what they had. That it was beginning to get awkward hinted right to that, unfortunately.

So, they pulled themselves together, talked it out, and got to see each other's perspective with the.. issue, on hand.

From there on, things got easier. Maybe not easier, per se, but, it definitely got effortless. They were back to normal. They were back to feeling comfortable, truly loved and appreciated.

Si Hyuk had been mindful of them. Of how their relationship affected Namjoon. Not just with regards to his career, but in a personal manner too. You see, he'd grown closer to the group of boys he'd take under his guidance, and, he could see that the couple bought out the best in each other, and those around them. That was enough reason for him.

Y/n breaks into a huge smile, cheeks hurting from how genuinely happy she is. She simply mouths out a 'thankyou', and he nods his head, returning the pleasant smile. Oh.. this is wonderful!  "Joon!" She calls out with a gleeful smile, waving. His head whips around almost immediately, and he seems to glow happier than he was, if that is even possible. He's quick in his stride as he happily waltz' over to her, and before she can comprehend it, he's scooping her up in his arms, a happy little twirl following it as she squeals, surprised, the butterflies in her stomach all but consuming her. He knows too. She can tell. The the way he stares into her eyes with nothing but love and adoration as he gently tucks away the hair that curtains her face timidly, the hushed laughter that accompanies the kiss they share, the comfort in knowing they'll be around each other, for each other, says it all.

This is their story. It's their experience. It's their truth. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

[my313]

whipped bf!soobin headcanons 🐰

pairing: soobin x gn!reader

tags/warnings: fluff, non-idol au, established relationship, stuff alluding to marriage

a/n: i was listening to pasilyo - sunkissed lola and was like . soobin would be such a good long term bf slash fiance slash husband 😭 help .. insane ass thought... so now we have long term bf soob :3 enjoy!

bf!soobin thinks you look bewitching everyday, but these days, and especially tonight, you have a flush on your face that makes him want to say all the pretty things you read in romance novels and love songs just for your blushing cheeks to grace his sights once again

bf!soobin, who even after all the years you've been together, still asks bashfully, "will you go on a date with me?" each time he wants to spend time with you outside the comfort of your little apartment

bf!soobin lets you sit in the cushioned booth seat always, without any arguments. though, if it was truly all up to him, he wouldn't have you on the other side of the table because he loves being able to sit beside you; feel the skin of your arm against his as a reminder that you're real, you're here, and importantly, you're his

bf!soobin, who looks at you in a lovestruck gaze as you talk and talk about what happened at the office the other day, or how the commute back home was lonely without him on friday; how you missed having your very own personal pole to hold onto when the metro came to an abrupt stop. anyone can always tell when something concerns you, or relates to you in even the most minuscule of ways, because soobin's eyes soften on default.

bf!soobin can't stop looking at your hands as you sit across from him at a fancy restaurant; the one you wouldn't stop seeing videos about on instagram; the one he called every week since your last anniversary to find a slot to reserve

bf!soobin, who makes do with having to be across from you, by taking out his phone and snapping pictures of you each time the warmly-lit candle on your table hits your face at a different angle; or another snap when you take a sip of water; always reasoning with your protests by saying something silly - something about "what if i get memory loss and forget about us? and then i see this fine ass picture of you drinking water and then boom! i remember- why are you laughing? i'm dead serious, babe."

bf!soobin, still sparing a glance at your hands every now and then, while you twirl pasta around a fork or reach out to hold his hand, thinks of how bare your fingers are. he can't stop thinking about how your ring finger would look absolutely beautiful wrapped by a silver band worth thousands; any gem or stone you want; whatever words engraved - they all allude to something he continues to dream about; to celebrate all the sides of your relationship, himself, and you, for the rest of your lives.

[nikitunez]

꒳​   。   ❤︎  𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙊 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝘽𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙇𝙄𝙀𝙎   𖦹   ଘ   ⤹

𐑺 pairing : heeseung x gn!reader 𐑺 genre : fluff, college!au, situationship!au 𐑺 words : 835 𐑺 contains : hugging 𐑺 maya's notes : first fic on the new blog! i had so much fun writing this and i hope that everyone who comes across this has just as much fun reading it! please leave feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! i would really love to know how everyone found it hehe ❤ if you would like to read more from me, my taglist and requests are open as well! but that's all for now, enjoy reading :)

the skies were growing ever colder with the changing seasons, which you were becoming aware of as you strutted down the stone paved pathways on campus alongside your timeless crush heeseung. both of you had just concluded a group study with a few of your other peers and were now headed back to your dorms. you had kindly asked heeseung if he minded walking you all the way to your dorm building, and as per usual, he had agreed without much convincing.

tall street lamps illuminated your path in a golden sheen as you walked in silence, appreciating the serene ambiance of the evening. your jacket wasn't thick enough to shied you from the icy air, but the heat you felt simply from being in such close proximity to heeseung was blanketing your skin, effectively keeping the goosebumps at bay.

as the familiar architecture of your dorm building began coming into view from behind the baren branches of the tall trees that littered the campus, you grew increasingly antsy, wishing that you could find some way to prolong this moment for you did not want to leave heeseung's side just yet.

and it seemed he too subconsciously felt the same way, because subtly he slowed the pace of his steps, wordlessly prompting you to match his stride, thereby successfully holding you back for merely a handful of seconds.

knowing grins rode your lips as you slowly but surely eventually reached your destination. you faced him cheerfully, allowing your grin to blossom into a bright smile, which he mimicked in turn.

"colder than usual today, isn't it?" you asked, officially breaking your seal of silence. "december's finally here," heeseung hummed, nodding in agreement. cutely enough, you noticed the tip of his nose had turned a light shade of pink in response to the temperature.

"this was my reminder to start wearing a bigger coat," you chuckled, rubbing your arms for emphasis. heeseung laughed with you, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his hands fumbled within his hoodie's pocket. "oh, are you cold?" he asked, glancing at you from behind his lashes.

"yeah, kinda," you smirked in slight embarrassment, breathing into your hands to warm them up. "are you," you asked in return, raising your brows curiously.

tilting his head contemplatively, heeseung shrugged, "the longer we stand here the harder it's getting to tolerate," he shared, staring at his feet bashfully. he didn't want to give you a reason to walk away from him, but luckily for him, you didn't want a reason to let him go either.

so you stepped forward, rubbing your hands together and smoothly slipped them inside his hoodie's pocket, pressing yourself against his body with a cheeky grin. you laid your cheek on his chest, seizing his hands with yours to let the warmth from your body transfer to him.

heeseung was as still as a statue, trying his best to comprehend what you had just done, blinking in astonishment once he realized that you were hugging him.

considering how you and him were still dancing on the line of being friends and being lovers, this was a very bold move on your part. but you loved catching heeseung off guard with random bouts of affection like this, making his heart flutter just the slightest bit and leaving him breathless for a few seconds.

laughing in disbelief under his breath, he relaxed, accustoming himself to the feeling of you snuggled up to him like this. he was glad you couldn't see his face right now, for his cheeks had flushed a bright shade of red.

he squeezed your fingers back, as if to say thank you for the donation of warmth. you could feel his heart thundering in his chest, a sensation that triumphantly gratified you.

you swore you could have stood here like this with him forever. the warm and fuzzy feeling you were making each other feel was sweeter than honey. as impatient as it sometimes made you, it was moments like these that made beating around the bush regarding your feelings for each other a little fun.

you hoped this would incentivize him to break free of whatever dormancy he was stuck in and finally ask you out on a date or something. for now, you could only pray.

pulling away from him reluctantly, you took a step back, trying to act as nonchalant about what you had just done so that he would give its purpose some thought when he was alone.

"well then, i hope that warmed you up enough to get back to your dorm without turning into a popsicle," you snickered. heeseung was so flustered he couldn't even hide it. he nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks, watching shyly as you made your way to the door of your building.

"thanks for walking me 'seung. i'll see you tomorrow. good night," you grinned one last time.

returning your smile, heeseung sent you a quick wave, stepping back to the sidewalk contently. "yeah, good night."

© nikitunez

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

-

-

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.” 

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 

“And you’re paying me double.” 

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 

However. 

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 

And you don’t like it one bit. 

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 

“After what he did to you?” 

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

-

-

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 

Motherfucker. 

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 

Weird. 

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!” 

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 

You want to believe him. You do. You do. 

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

And you mean that. 

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 

-

-

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 

Finally. “Hello.” 

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 

“You’re here?” 

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 

“…No.” 

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 

Shit, this is everywhere. 

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 

“I still need to—” 

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 

“Do you even know?” 

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 

“That’s cus—” 

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then. 

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 

“Whoa, hold u—” 

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 

“Just listen—” 

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 

“I swear to—” 

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation. 

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 

“Asshole—” 

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Do it yourself then.” 

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 

“Nah.” 

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 

“Then fucking come.” 

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 

“I said again.” 

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 

“Yoongi—” 

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.” 

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 

“There you go. Keep going.” 

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know you don’t make promises but—” 

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 

“How about we share it.” 

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 

“Okay.” 

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 

Scroll, scroll. 

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 

Scroll, scroll. 

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 

His eyes. 

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 

No. 

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 

Again. 

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 

Swelling, you already feel close. 

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins. 

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

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tbc. :)

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so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Stray Kids as Different Kinds of Shopaholics

Pairing: OT8 x gn!reader Genre: headcanon, fluff, crack Warnings: none

1. Bang Chan- The Idiot

You would think that Bang Chan would be the sensible one when it comes to shopping 

This is false.

Unlike the other boys, he doesn’t really have super niche hobbies like art or dance, so he believes that he doesn’t need to spend so much money on such “unnecessary things”

He’ll even hoard coupons and try to use them, even though they expired months ago

But two seconds later, he’ll be whipping out his wallet to buy the most useless shit ever

He would 100% fall for stupid scams, like a self-stirring coffee mug or a “gravity-defying” umbrella hat

As long as they make “life more efficient”

But if you want to buy a book or socks or something, he’ll side eye you and scold you for buying dumb things, as if he just didn’t spend a fortune on an automatic shoe-tying machine

2. Lee Know- The Gordon Ramsay Wannabe

Now Minho is pretty wise with money, except when it comes to one thing

His kitchen

I can absolutely envision him wanting to have an immaculately stocked kitchen

After all, he likes to try making new and elaborate dishes, and he needs the tools for that

Minho will have no problem with buying the fanciest, most expensive supplies

He’ll have a bluetooth wireless cooking sensor to time his roasts from a distance, a soy milk maker, and that KitchenAid artisan mini stand mixer with the fancy beater

He’s so extra that he will even buy a juice extractor to facilitate his morning fix for green juice (gross)

Will get mad if you question his purchases.

3. Changbin- The Gym Bro

Every single exercise contraption known to man will go into his personal home gym

He needs fifty different kinds of weights, 

Maybe even those arm exercise bands for when he’s “on a road trip”

Also spends a lot of money on nutrition

Like those organic seed packets or high-quality kale or something so he can make healthy stuff for himself

If you even open your mouth, he will immediately get defensive, explaining why each and every one of his purchases make sense and why you need them too to be healthy

4. Hyunjin- Ariana Grande

The “I want it, I got it” mentality

Going shopping with him has no budget. He hates that word

The kind of person who doesn’t bring a shopping list; he just strolls the aisles and buys anything he wants

Likes buying name brands: Gucci, Versace, Tom Ford, Chanel, and of course, Celine

Bougie bitch right here

LOVES jewelry and accessories even more than clothes; anything that glitters

Might ask you to go shopping with him sometimes just because he needs someone to help him hold all of his bags

Simply will ignore you if you ask him why he needs $5000 in new shirts when he’s already got a closet full at home

5. Han- The Real One

Surprisingly, Jisung would be one of the more practical shoppers

He has a normal budget that he follows religiously, because there’s only one thing that he really wants

Food.

Whenever he goes out, he absolutely must buy a drink. Probably boba, to sip on while walking or when sitting in the car

He’ll have “secret” hiding spots in his room for his snacks

Can’t cook so loves taking it as an excuse to always get food outside & he loves doing it with you

Loves ordering-in all kinds of meals as well, whether it’s pizza or butter chicken

Every morning, Jisung needs to buy his coffee at Starbucks and be all aesthetic, or else he can’t do his work

Pouts when you remind him that you literally have a coffee machine at home.

6. Felix- Santa Claus

Now Felix is also a little like Jisung, being a little more realistic

EXCEPT when it comes to his friends & family, especially you.

Will spoil you rotten will all sorts of gifts, from new clothes to perfume

And he insists on taking you on shopping sprees and showering you with new things you don’t really need

Receiving expensive chocolates imported from Paris or somewhere is a regular thing for you

And he’s even managed to get you a designer bag that even the richest people have to be on waiting lists for

Doesn’t get offended at all when you tell him that he needs to cut down on the spending; he’ll just cutely hold out a pretty dress for you to wear

And how can you refuse him?

7. Seungmin- The Mom

Doesn’t give a crap about being fashionable; definitely stingy when it comes to that

“But Seungmin, that hoodie is seven years old…” “Well it fits, so I can wear it.”

Will lecture people (Hyunjin) on their horrible spending habits

Meanwhile, he’d rather spend time in the cleaning sections

He’ll stock up on extra paper towels and wipes and other practical materials

The kind of shopper to absolutely ADORE sales, and will buy everything with a discount

Would buy snow gear in June just because it’s 5% off and will force you to try on a hideous sweater just because it’s in clearance or something

8. I.N.- The Guilty One

Can’t be trusted when given money to go shopping

You could give him your wallet to tell him to go buy milk and when he comes back, he’ll have his arms full of crap that you didn’t even mention

Is such a binge-shopper that he has no choice but to live simple

Because the moment he steps into Target or the mall or somewhere, it’s over.

You had to stop giving him your credit card and just hand him a limited wad of cash when you need him to run errands for you

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