#squeaked in at the last second to actually post something in october LOL

[greenieart]

More little fellas! The Do’Urdens this time :)

[More: x, x, x, x]

[hermannsthumb]

Idk if you doing requests or not rn buut, feriowind has been posting a bunch of vampire!Hermann and I needs some modern vampire Hermann and professor Newt...

uwu ily

SO I feel like I should open by saying a WIP fic with this concept by @coloredpencilroses exists and I Love it, so read High Stakes for something much better than this lol (and leave a nice comment). HAPPY OCTOBER!!!! warning for very mildly implied sexy stuff. EDIT: and of COURSE I forgot to tag @theloccent for my extremely belated fill for the “Vampire” square on my bingo card :/

-----------------------

Newt has always been an extremely persistent type. He considers it, naturally, one his greatest strengths—no theory goes untested, no question goes unanswered, no experiment goes…well, unexperimented. You don’t get more PhDs than you can count on one hand if you’re not persistent. You don’t get a date with the hot new engineering professor down the hall if you’re not persistent, either, but Newt is finding this venture is taking a little more effort than usual. That’s fine, though. He likes challenges.

Dr. Gottlieb was hired by the university at the start of the semester, after the head of the engineering department—who’s nearing her seventies—finally decided she’d had enough and announced her retirement somewhat last minute. He is, frankly, unlike anyone Newt’s ever seen before, a weird combination of cheekbones, wide lips, and a turn-of-the-century old-fashioned air that carries over into everything from his wardrobe to the stiff way he carries himself. He wouldn’t look out of place in a black and white photograph, Newt thinks. Or maybe even the illustrations of a Dickens novel. That’s not why Newt’s into him, though—well, not the only reason why.

In the entire month and a half Gottlieb’s been here, he hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone his contract doesn’t require him to; when he is forced into conversation, he scowls and snaps and mumbles his way through before making a polite excuse as to why he needs to leave the room right now, immediately. No one knows anything about him other than the bare minimum—that his name is Dr. Gottlieb, he lectures in engineering, and he exists. Shit, Newt doesn’t even know his first name. The little plaque outside his office just says Gottlieb.

The mystery just makes Gottlieb all the more alluring to Newt.

Anyway, his continued failures in winning Gottlieb over aren’t a result of a lack of trying. On Gottlieb’s first day, Newt stopped by his office to introduce himself. He didn’t bother knocking. Maybe that was his first mistake. “I’m Newt,” he said. “My office is a few doors down from you. You’re the new department head?”

Gottlieb looked stricken, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said. He didn’t say anything else.

“Cool,” Newt said. “Anyway, I’m technically in the bio department, but I teach a few interdisciplinary courses with engineering, so I requested they stick me over here to get a bigger office.” He cracked a grin. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb said.

Newt tried again the next day.

“Your office is so dark,” he said, conversationally, because it was—lights all off, books stacked up everywhere, maroon drapes drawn tightly in front of the single small window. Dark and stuffy. “Feel free to stop by my office whenever you want a break from it. I have a corner one, so I have two windows.”

“I requested this office,” Gottlieb said, not looking up the article he was marking up.

Newt became desperate by his third attempt and did something that’s left him burning with shame even now, weeks later, and that would probably warrant the immediate transfers of sleep-deprived engineering majors out of all his courses if word ever got out it was him: he deliberately broke the department coffee machine. “Man, I can’t believe that thing is busted again,” he declared to Gottlieb. “Good thing I have a Keurig in my office.” Newt had gone out and purchased a Keurig immediately before destroying the coffee pot. “Seriously, come by whenever you need caffeine.”

Gottlieb blinked at him, long and slow, and Newt had the strangest sense that he knew exactly what happened to the coffee pot. “I never drink… coffee,” Gottlieb finally said.

For all Newt’s troubles, the list of things he knows about Gottlieb has expanded by two pitiful points: that his accent is English and posh, and his voice is low and sexy. Helpful.

It’s a chilly day in late October when Newt finally decides to enlist the aid of his interdisciplinary undergrads. Some of them—he learned after poking around their registration records—have a seminar with Gottlieb, and they seem his best bet at learning anything. A spouse—a first name—Newt would take Gottlieb’s favorite color, even. “So,” he starts class, unwinding his scarf off his neck, “that Dr. Gottlieb sure is weird, huh?”

In Newt’s firsthand experience, undergrads love to gossip about their professors, and his certainly don’t disappoint. Gottlieb’s classes are all held in the basement of the engineering building. All run well into the evening, after the sun’s set—most not finished until nine—and Gottlieb hustles out of the lecture hall the moment he can. He walks with a cane and a slight limp. He always dresses like that. He’s never mentioned any sort of family, and wears no wedding ring. He’s scary good at math. No one knows his first name.

“You’ve been an invaluable help,” Newt tells them all seriously.

He mulls the new information over in his office later as he grades some tests. So Gottlieb is a bit of shy, reclusive, genius. No surprise there. Well, his apparent hatred of sunlight is kind of weird (if unsurprising, given how pale he is) but maybe he just has sensitive eyes or something. Who is Newt to judge? At least he knows how to improve his next plan of attack—he just has to ask the guy to come over and sit in a dark room in silence with him. That’s probably Gottlieb’s dream date, actually.

There’s a knock on Newt’s office door. Newt looks up and drops his pen: it’s Gottlieb.

“Uh. Hey, dude!” he squeaks, unsure of how to proceed in this entirely unfamiliar territory. Gottlieb, willingly interacting with him? Willingly leaving his office? “Is there…can I help you with something? Did you want that coffee after all?”

“Most definitely not,” Gottlieb says coolly. He’s standing far enough back from the door that not a single sliver of lamp light from Newt’s office hits him, instead shrouded by the shadows of the dark engineering department. Newt didn’t realize how late it had gotten. “My students informed me that you were interrogating them about me.”

It’s not a question. Newt is struck by a wave of nervousness that he doesn’t quite understand—maybe it’s the sour expression Gottlieb is giving him, something in those dark brown eyes that are piercing through Newt. He feels, foolishly and briefly, like cowering under his desk. He swallows. “Yes,” he says, and adds, stammering, “I mean—I wasn’t interrogating them. I was just asking a few questions.”

“Why?” Gottlieb says.

“Uh,” Newt says. “I guess I was…curious, about you?”

He works up the guts to look Gottlieb in the eyes; he sees Gottlieb’s eyebrows jump the tiniest fraction of an inch. “You’re attracted to me,” Gottlieb says, another non-question, though Newt hears a flicker of surprise.

“Yeah,” Newt admits.

“I see,” Gottlieb says. Then, to Newt’s surprise, he suddenly smiles. “I’d like if you invited me over for dinner, Dr. Geiszler.”

“Dinner,” Newt says. He feels strangely dizzy; but, shaking himself, he quickly gets over it. “I mean, dinner! Yes! Shit! When?”

“Tonight, I should think,” Hermann says.

Tonight is Friday, which means they don’t have work tomorrow. By the time they make it off campus it’ll be almost ten—way later than people eat dinner—and besides, Newt already had a sandwich at around seven. Is dinner a euphemism? Is Gottlieb propositioning him? God, why didn’t he wash his sheets with the laundry this week? “Tonight,” Newt says. He stands up abruptly and grabs his leather jacket with trembling fingers. Why is he trembling? Nerves, he guesses. He’s about to hook up with total hottie Dr. Gottlieb, he’s allowed to be nervous. “Fuck yes. Let’s go now.”

Gottlieb is not impressed with the messy state of Newt’s apartment, and even less impressed with the state of Newt’s refrigerator and freezer. “Dinosaur chicken nuggets and canned Lime-A-Ritas,” he says with a sniff. “Hm. You ought to be getting more vitamins, Dr. Geiszler. I’m certain you’re deficient in something.”

“You sound like my dad,” Newt snorts. He throws his car keys on the counter and shrugs off his jacket. “There’s some leftover Chinese on the second shelf if you want it—just some lo mein. Or I could put a frozen pizza in the oven. Or I guess we could order something too?”

Gottlieb shuts the fridge door delicately. “How kind of you to offer,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he means it. Newt is suddenly struck by how bizarre a sight he is in the midst of Newt’s chaotic kitchen: buttoned up to the throat with his stupid shirt and blazer, prodding at the fraying lime lizard-shaped rug by the sink with the end of his ornately-handled cane. Out of time and out of place. 

“It’s Newt,” Newt says. “Please don’t call me Dr. Geiszler, it makes me feel ancient.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb says.

“And what,” Newt says, deciding to test his luck a little, “uh—what should I call you?”

Gottlieb considers him. “Hermann,” he says.

The name rings a bell in the back of Newt’s head. He swears he’s heard it somewhere before—an article, maybe. A book. Has he stumbled across Dr. Gottlieb’s research before without even realizing it? He’s on the verge of asking what publications Gottlieb’s been featured in when Gottlieb suddenly snags hold of his hand; then, raising it to his mouth, he kisses it. His lips are as cold as his skin. “Would you like to show me to your quarters, Newton?” he murmurs.

Newt shivers; he nods.

“Hermann Gottlieb,” Newt says aloud later, while Hermann redresses himself. “Now I know where I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yes?” Hermann says. He’s lacing up one of his Oxfords.

“I worked with his research in one of my dissertations,” Newt says. “Another Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, I mean. He was a brilliant mathematician from—God, 1830-something. German. His work was groundbreaking for the time, or shit, for our time, too.” He remembers seeing a portrait of that Hermann Gottlieb in one of his sources; the whole of the similarities between him and Newt’s Hermann Gottlieb (the dark eyes, the mouth, the cheekbones) are a little too much to be entirely coincidental. “You must be related to him, right? Like, he’s your great-great-great���”

“Yes,” Hermann cuts him off quickly. He turns to Newt and smiles. “A distant ancestor, certainly. I believe you are the first in some time to have made that connection.”

“Always thought he was cool,” Newt yawns. “Man, I’m tired.” The romp with Hermann had been fun, if not unexpectedly exhausting, and a little…out of the ordinary. The dude apparently has some sort of weird biting kink that left Newt’s neck stinging a little bit, but it’s cool, Newt doesn’t mind. It was like boning a vampire or something. Kinda hot. “Do you need me to show you to the door, or can I just stay here? I’m serious about spending the night though. I really don’t mind.”

Hermann fiddles with the laces of his other shoe, then, slowly, draws the whole thing back off. “If it’s not an imposition,” he says, and smiles again, shyly. “Though, I warn you—I’m a bit of a late sleeper.”

“Good, so I am,” Newt says. “Could you toss me the sweatshirt hanging on that chair? You can grab one for yourself too, if you’re cold, I’ve got another hanging in the closet. No, not--yeah, that door.”

They dip under the covers and get cozy, Newt taking on the task of big spoon, because Hermann is a cold sonofabitch and could use a little insulation. The last thought on his mind before he drifts off to a comfortable sleep is how strange it is he can’t feel Hermann’s heartbeat—though, he realizes, it’s probably just muffled by their clothing.

[exo-can]

Growing Pains: I Miss You

A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25

Order: 1) When We Were Young 3)River Lea 4)Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

WARNING: Language, some soft smut (rare i know lol)

gif originally posted by @vanillalattaes

A/N: Although its not required, i would recommend reading this series in the order i release them as im doing it in a sort of star wars fashion lol. It won’t affect you storyline wise though if you choose to read this one first (: enjoy my lovlies

     The room felt as suffocatingly tense as it was quiet. The only reprieve from the silence being a small cough or the frustrated tapping of a pencil once in a while. Desperately, you willed yourself to ignore it, eyes determined to remain on your page, as though staring at the blank space was going to will the answer to simply appear. Why the fuck did I listen to the counsellor and take this course? Your pupils flitted over the question again, as though you had expected to find some hint to the answer. I wanted a publishing internship, not a crash course on how music affects literature!

    Exactly one month ago, on this very day, you signed over your sanity by signing up for this Theory and Analysis class. To be fair, you didn't think that examining a few notes and a poem here and there would be too hard. In fact, you’d even called it a cake walk. Boy, oh boy, were you ever wrong. The knowledge that you would have been able to get the internship was in the back of your mind; you were a good student with a strong GPA. Yet, you still wanted something to give you even the slightest edge over your competitors, which is when the school course advisor suggested this. You had agreed at the time. After all, so many authors now were also musicians, so it could give you a connection or even an insight to their work that perhaps other interns might not have. Now, you wholeheartedly regretted that decision.

    Sighing, you slumped into your chair which made a loud squeak. Heads whipped in your direction, icy glares making you sink lower, mouthing a silent ‘sorry.’ Once your peers turned back around you sighed once more, rubbing your fingertips into the temples of your skull, making it look to anyone who glanced at you like you were meditating in your seat. C’mon, Y/N, an internal peptalk starting in your head, You’re not gonna let this ruin your GPA. Schumann, Schumann, Schumann… or was it Schubert? Motherfu-- You could feel your forehead wrinkling in concentration, when a small snicker snapped you out of your trance. Knowing exactly who it came from, your eyes squinted at Taehyung, who was in the desk beside you, menacingly. Lifting your hand, you raised your most favourite finger at the moment, Taehyung only grinning at you like a child in response before turning back to his own test. Rolling your eyes, you were about to do the same, when your vision was halted on a head of black hair just past Taehyung.

    You didn't know him personally, only through mutual friends. Honestly, you’d never even really spoken to him. You only knew what you heard, which was a fair amount. His name was Min Yoongi. He was a music major, but you didn't really know whether he composed or played. That wasn’t really what the other girls liked to discuss. The seemingly much more interesting topic was his love life. Yoongi was good looking, it was no secret. There was something so interesting about his sharp features and cat-like eyes. Even you had to admit it, staring at his face from three desks down like the creepiest person in existence. But he was also known to dine and dash, so to speak. There were a good amount of girls who claimed to have slept with him, but never had anyone seen him actually with someone beyond one night, so it was widely disputed whether they ever actually had slept together. However, there was one detail that remained the same with every girl; he never contacted or even spoke to any of them after. Looking at him now, you didn't really think someone like him could be that cruel. Someone who was close with your new-found friend, Taehyung, could never be. Taehyung was one of the most kind hearted people you’d ever met, despite the teasing.

    Normally, these sorts of traits were a bit of a turn off for you; most guys who falled into the category he was described as all ended up being the same. And ultimately boring. You’d played that game before and had long since grown tired of it. Yet as you scanned his profile, you mused that maybe you wouldn’t mind dealing yourself in once more to relieve pent up stress, if nothing else.

    Taehyung knew him personally, so you knew it would only be a matter of time before you were introduced. Placing your head in your palm, your rested your elbow on your desk. Distantly, you wondered what kind of person he would actually turn out to be. His fingers deftly swiped his pencil back and forth on his paper. You couldn’t read exactly what he wrote, but you were surprised at how full his page his was, only infringing a slight amount of guilt on you for neglecting your own test. Watching, you admired how nimble, yet thin his hands were. Long fingers gripped the pencil strong enough that the veins in his hand could be seen, when suddenly they stopped their movements. Your eyes traveled back up his frame, only to meet his own curious ones. Immediately you snatched your gaze away, your head practically flying out of your palm in sheer panic. Reaching your fingers out to grab your own pencil far too hastily, it clattered to the floor deafeningly. Heads all turning back to you, each person seemed to be sending you telepathic prayers that your would just mysteriously disappear for disturbing them once more. The floor was the only thing you could safely look at as your cheeks flushed red and you dived for your pencil. Retrieving it you immediately hid your tomato face behind your hands with your elbows on the desk and stared down at your paper with more focus than ever. Unable to look, you could hear the other students turning back around in their seats resentfully as you shook your head at your own embarrassment. Such. An. Idiot.

    “So, Yoongi said something to me the other day.” The coffee in your mouth suddenly tasted bitter despite the disgusting amount of sugar and caramel syrup in it.

    Struggling to avoid spitting the liquid all over the pavement as you walked beside Taehyung, you attempted to compose yourself though the incident from last week surged to the forefront of your mind. Humiliation resurfacing and panic setting in because there was absolutely no way in hell Taehyung would ever let you live this down. Patting your chest and then sticking out your tongue as though the drink had burned your tongue after you swallowed. When you finally replied, your voice was thick with the attempt to feign innocence. “Oh? About?”

    “You.” Your heart felt like it was falling through the floor.

    “Really? What did he say?” You replied, despite knowing you were most likely caught and were about to face a face full of ridicule that would last until graduation in 4 years.

    “He kinda just asked who you were, seeing as we’ve been attached at the hip since orientation.” A glimmer of hope shined on the horizon. “To be honest, I thought he was gonna ask if you had some sort of condition because of all the drool pouring out of your mouth last week.”

    And there it went. “You saw?!”

    “Pretty sure the whole class did, Y/N.” He simpered when you batted him with your free arm.

    “Ass,” you muttered into the lid of your coffee.

    “It’s okay if you have a crush on him. He’s a good guy, for the most part.” Taehyung commented, his last addition perking your interest. What does that mean? “Besides, I maybe, sorta, have a little thing for your friend…”

    “Haerin?” You looked at him, puzzled seeing as they’d met all of one time and it was very brief. Sheepishly, he shook his head and it dawned on you, pausing mid step on the sidewalk. “Wait, Luna?!”

    Rolling his eyes, he didn’t slow his pace, forcing you to jog forward to keep up once the initial shock wore off.

    “You do know she’s head over heels for her boyfriend, right?” He nodded, a scowl on his face. “And that they’ve been together for nearly two years?”

    “Yes, Y/N.” His voice was slightly aggravated. “It’s a crush. It’s not like i'm going to propose.”

    A twinge of unease poked at your stomach as you realized you weren't exactly being supportive. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed when nothing comes from it, Tae.”

    The corner of his mouth turned upwards and he patted your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I know there's not really a chance of anything happening.” His grin grew in size, mischief brewing beneath his irises. “You, on the other hand, have some hope. Which would be why I invited Yoongi to the library with us.”

    Once again, you halted in your steps, mortified at what your friend had done. “You did what?!”

    “Would you stop doing that?” Taking two steps back, he gripped your arm and pulled you forward. “For one, you’re going to spill coffee all over yourself. Second, he’s waiting for us.”

    “I hate you.”

    “Yeah, yeah.” He giggled as he let his grip on your arm go.

    “Seriously, Tae.” You whined. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m going home.”

    “No, you aren’t.” He shook his head. “He’s already seen you.”

    Snapping your eyes in the direction which Taehyung was now waving, you spotted him. Leaning against the railing of the steps to the old campus library, he looked cosy. Bundled in a gray scarf and a long, black, tweed coat, you could see a tinge of rouge powdering his nose from the chill October air. Pulling a hand out of his pocket, he gave a wave back before delving the limb back into his pocket in search of warmth.  His face is a little puffy in the morning, you remarked. Cute. Eyes twitched over to you, a new flush of red dusting your own cheeks at being caught staring once again. Averting your eyes to the tops of your shoes, a weird pulling sensation made your insides squirm.

    Steeling your nerves, you did your best to at least appear composed as the gap between you and Yoongi dwindled. By the time you reached him, your internal panic levels had reduced a little, though you still felt like bolting in the opposite direction to avoid the imminent awkwardness. Playing with the lid of your coffee, your shoes scuffed to a stop once Taehyung did the same. Letting your eyes drift upward, it came as a surprise to find him being the one staring for a change, though he made no move to conceal it. You did your best to read him, but it was to no avail, his face remaining as stoic as ever. It was Taehyung who was the first to speak, a knowing grin on his face as he drew the pair of your’s attention away from one another. “Y/N, this is Yoongi.”

    A self-conscious smile flashed across your lips as you murmured a short, “Hey.”

    “Hey,” Yoongi’s sultry tone took you off guard; you didn’t expect someone like him to have such a deep, raspy voice.

    “You look tired.” Taehyung interjected.

    Yoongi scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I was up a little late last night.”

    “Aw shit I forgot, your project was due this morning right?” Taehyung replied apologetically, to which his friend nodded. “You didn’t have to come! We could’ve done this later.”

    “No, that’s okay.” His dark irises fluttered to you briefly. “I wanted to.”

    “Right.” Taehyung smirked, brushing past Yoongi to the steps that lead to the library. “Let’s go then.”

    Following behind, you walked up the steps to the door, Yoongi taking up the rear. Taehyung didn’t bother to hold the door for you, forcing you to reach out to catch it with a flash of annoyance. “Hey!”

    Taehyung snickered as people immediately shushed you, a blush fanning across your cheeks for letting him goad you. Whispering under your breath, you commented on your friends child like antics, “Dick.”

    A breathless laugh came from behind you. Sneaking a glance back, Yoongi’s eyes were reduced to slivers, his cheeks higher from hiding a grin in the depths of his scarf. Weaving through the library, you did your best to quell the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Your efforts not doing much as frustration took hold at how he’d barely even said a word, but somehow made you feel like you were back in highschool, pining for some guy. Never one to fall fast, it was odd for you to feel this nervous around a guy. You weren't a stranger to hookups, but a part of you wondered if it was just because it had been a little while.

    Brushing the thoughts away, you focus on not hitting one of the various tables as Taehyung led you into one of the group study rooms where talking was permitted. Yoongi was the last to enter, closing the door softly behind him. Setting your half-empty drink on the table, you shrugged your backpack off along with your jacket. Thank god, you’d decided that your comfiest sweatpants and sweater were a bit too musky to wear in public. Settling into your chair, you unloaded your books as Taehyung sat across from you and placed his things on the chair beside him, leaving the one beside you the only chair left for Yoongi to take. He didn’t seem at all fazed though, barely batting an eye at Taehyung's obviousness as he took up the place beside you. Taking off his coat and scarf, he opted to keep the beanie on, which you didn’t mind at all as he looked like a walking-talking advertisement for it. His black hair poked out the front and sides, a glimmer of an earring catching your eye. Shaking your head you averted your gaze to your book, forcing yourself to read the text. I’m starting to understand why these girls rave about him….

    “Y/N?” Taehyung snapped you out of your reverie, “you aren’t going to study our theory class?”

    “No. I’ve been studying that all week.” You replied, defeated. “I’m pretty sure that my head is actually going to explode if I do.”

    “Fair,” Taehyung chuckled. “I just thought maybe you’d wanna ask Yoongi for some help seeing as how great your last test went.”

    Quirking your head, you said, “I’m sure he has his own stuff too; I don't wanna unload on anyone--”

    “He got 93 percent on the test.”

    Your head immediately turned to the side, mouth slightly agape. You never knew he got such good grades; it wasn’t exactly something people talked about. He looked a little unnerved by your reaction, “I don’t mind--”

    “Please.” You cut him off, nearly facepalming at your lack of tact. “I mean, if you don’t mind, could you please help me? Only if you have the time though. Again, I don’t wanna cause you any trouble--”

    “Y/N,” The sound of your name leaving his lips made your stomach flip. “It’s no bother; it helps me study it too.”

    The sun had just began to descend when Taehyung had left the two of you to your own devices, though you didn't really notice. On the exterior, Yoongi seemed like a gruff sort of person, but as he started teaching you, you found out that wasn't at all the case. He went through notes and old tests so patiently with you, never complaining when you got a question wrong even if it was the fourth time you’d been over it. Not once. Gentle fingers glided over the pages of your old text book, showing you references and dates while keeping the page open until he was sure you understood. As you studied, you realized that he wasn’t just taking a course because society expected him to; he was passionate about music.

    The proximity between you had eventually began to close as your timidness wore off and you felt more comfortable with him. Your bodies now only centimeters apart. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne and his arm would sometimes brush against yours, sending a tingle up your spine. Doing your best to focus, you only snuck glances at him when he was reading from the textbook. There were smaller things you’d noticed about him now; his tendency to fiddle with his pencil, the miniscule freckle just to the right of his nose, and the way his lips settled into a pout whenever he rested his features. An urge to know more about him lingered, the study session only fueling your intrigue instead of burning it out as it usually did when you met a guy like this. As time wore on, excitement still gurgled inside you but guilt couldn’t help but convolute your heart. This entire time he’d only been helping you instead of studying his own things.

    “I’m sorry,” You apologized after getting a question wrong, noting that the clock on the wall read 5 pm. “We can stop now.”

    Yoongi quirked his head, “Why?”

    “I’ve taken up your whole day.” You sighed.

    “I told you I didn’t mind.”

    “Yeah, i know...” you trailed off, still unsatisfied. A silence ensued as you cursed your own selfishness and began to pack your things back up while Yoongi remained still.

    “Treat me, then.” His comment made you pause.

    “What?”

    “If you feel that bad,” He reasoned, following your actions and packing up before sending you a grin, “go to dinner with me.”

    Your eyes grew wide at the suggestion, heat flaring up inside you. Gathering your bearings, you did your best to appear unaffected though from the way Yoongi smirked, you knew it was already too late. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

    “No,” he replied teasingly, “i’m pretty sure I only asked you to treat me.”

    Your face dropped into a frown. Hoisting your backpack up, you brushed past him to the door of the group study room muttering, “I can see why you and Taehyung are friends now.” 

    A throaty chuckle sounded behind you and you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from upturning ever so slightly.

    “You're joking right?” Digging your chin into your jacket, your eyes danced over neon lights, flashing from every direction. The street was crowded, which made sense considering the time. Some people rushed through, while others doddled along gazing at each sign as they passed various vendors. The unmistakable scent of food wafted toward you, making your mouth salivate. “You could have picked an actual restaurant; i’m not that cheap.”

    “I never said you were. I happen to love street food, thanks.” Yoongi grinned at you, scarf muffling his words a little. Like many others, his catlike eyes scanned each stall, a playful expression on his face as he lurched down the road. “Besides, if we went to a restaurant people might mistake this as a date and think im an ass for not paying.”

    “When are you going to stop teasing me about that?!” You elbowed him in the side, the redness in your cheeks only accentuating your pout as you muttered, “Any girl would make the same mistake.”

    A small laugh left his lips, making your stomach flutter, “C’mon.”

    A gust of wind brushed your back, sending a chill down your spine. “Are you sure you don't want to go to a restaurant?”

    “Positive,” He immediately responded, his face brightening when he found the stall he’d been looking for. “They have all my favourites here.”

    “But, it’s cold out here.” You whined.

    A look of realization crossed his features, his eyes scanning your figure which was nearly folding in on itself to contain some warmth. Placing a hand on your arm to stop you, he replied, “Wait here for a sec.”

    Confused, you watched as he turned his back on you and headed down one of the various streets. Standing awkwardly on the pavement, you itched to follow him, but obeyed anyway. Pulling your hands together in front of your mouth, you breathed into them. A split second of bliss graced them before disappearing, leaving you to rub them against one another vigorously to try and keep a fraction of that warmth. So focused on your task, you almost didn’t notice when he reappeared in front of you, his hand full of something you couldn't quite make out. The palms of your hands stopped their rubbing motions as his hand grabbed yours and pulled it toward him. Placing a squishy package in your hand, he reached into his pocket to pull out another as warmth bloomed in your palm. Cracking the pack, he handed the other one over, “Put those ones in your shoes.”

    It was then that you realized you’d been staring at him, dumbfounded. Snapping yourself out of it, you nodded numbly. Crouching, you lifted the tongue of each sneaker, shoving the hot packs in one by one. Wiggling your toes, you relished in the warmth before rising up to your feet. While you’d been doing what you were told, Yoongi pulled two more out and burst the bubble in each. Slender fingers grabbed your hands, placing the packs in your palms before curling them over yours to make your hand into a fist. Taking hold of your wrists, he pushed your hands into your pockets while you stood like a mannequin, letting him control you.  Reaching up, he unraveled his scarf from around his neck, the bottom half of his face revealing itself. Zipping up his coat to the top, he gently curled his scarf around your neck, the pads of his fingers brushing against your skin faintly. Eyes studying the fabris, he only ceasing his fiddling with his when he was happy with how it encased you.

    “Yoongi,” you began to protest, only for him to cut your words short.

    “Better?”

    Nodding in response, you bit your lip hesitantly, “But what about you?’

    “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be fine.” Again at the mention of your name, your heart seemed to press forward against your ribs, only swelling when he gave you a reassuring smile that made his eyes crinkle. “Let's go eat.”

    Though you hated to admit it, you were thankful to Taehyung. After that night of eating and talking about random things, Yoongi started to become someone you saw frequently in your life. It would be a little bold to call you friends, but more accurate to say you were a smidge more than study buddies. Pulling out textbooks and going through notes together became a weekly thing, sometimes more depending on how much work you had. Just the same as the first time, Yoongi was patient with you. After a few weeks, he even started to ask you questions to about classes he found more difficult even if it wasn't something you took either. He claimed he just needed a different perspective, which you were eager to provide seeing as your mark in the class you shared had gone up by a whopping 10 percent since he’d begun helping you. You found it regretful though that you couldn't be of more help. It’d been two months since the two of you started hanging around each other and though you were happy to have him around, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

    The more time you spent with him, the more you ached to know him on a deeper level. You weren't new to relationships, but you'd never really been this curious about someone. Time would slow when you weren’t with him, a yearning to be in his presence gradually growing until he took up most of your thoughts. Daydreams danced in your head about whether he was a good kisser, if he’d turn out like every other guy you’d eventually grown bored with, and what kind of person he was under his guarded exterior. If you were honest, you felt pathetic that you were in college and some guy who had never even kissed you, let alone touch you in a way that wasn't an accidental brush of the skin, had this effect on you. But you also craved to learn what it would feel like if he did.

    Somewhere among your studying and coffee runs, you’d made it your goal to satiate your curiosity. You didn’t aim so high as to date, just to hook up at least once. However, only disappointment greeted you. Not once had he ever made a move to touch you. Occasionally there were flirtatious jabs, but never anything more. Eventually, you started to wonder if maybe you just weren’t his type and the girls who seemed to hover and whisper all around you were.

    Whenever you were with the man, hushed voices followed. You knew what they were wondering; why was he hanging out with you so much? Were you dating? What made you so different? Sometimes you’d chuckle, earning a confused glance from Yoongi which you’d always brush off. Other times you’d find yourself moping because they were far from the truth. Right now, it was the latter.

    “Did you see that chick who left Yoongi's dorm yesterday morning?” Jimin, one of Taehyungs friends, questioned your circle of friends sitting at a table in the cafeteria.

    “No,” Taehyung replied, quickly trying to divert the conversation to spare you while Luna and Haerin snuck worried glances your way, “where is he and Namjoon anyway?”

    Jimin shrugged, “Yoongi sent me a text at 4 this morning so Namjoon is probably trying to wake him up.”

    “Do you mean that girl who was sitting on the curb?” Jungkook piped up, earning a glare from Taehyung whose efforts were thwarted, though he didn't seem to notice.

    “Sitting on the curb?” Jin asked.

    “Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, shoveling the last few pieces of a pancake into his mouth, “I think she was waiting for a cab.”

    “Yeah that one,” Jimin nodded while Jin muttered about how rude it was to make her wait outside, “do you think he’d mind if I asked for her number?”

    “Does he ever?” Taehyung huffed, discreetly placing a comforting hand on your own, which you’d absentmindedly curled into a ball, under the table. Taking a breath and shoving the fruit on your plate around, you implored yourself to relax. Why do I even care? I’m just a person he studies with.

    “That’s true,” Jimin nodded. “She was really hot though.”

    “Do you really have to talk about this with us here?” Luna barked from beside you, annoyance making her eyebrows bunch.

    Jimin glanced at her sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, I just didn’t think it was a problem seeing as we have before.”

    “It’s annoying.” She was relentless. “It’s not like I gab about my latest conquests.”

    “Bullshit,” Taehyung quickly rebuked, his hand becoming tighter on yours, “you constantly talk about your boyfriend.”

    Luna’s mouth dropped. “That’s different!”

    “It’s not.”

    “Yes, it is!”

    Bickering ensued from each side of you, causing you to slump in your chair, rolling your eyes. Ignoring the war raging on, Jungkook nodded his head toward the door, speaking directly to jimin, “If you still want to, here’s your chance.”

    Instantly your eyes shifted to the direction he motioned to, spotting a groggy Yoongi shuffling behind Namjoon like a zombie. Panic and dread consumed you. All you wanted to do was disappear, embarrassed at how much you’d lusted over someone who clearly wasn't interested. Before his irises could meet yours, you stood from your chair. The abruptness of your movement made the chair squeal as it skid against the floor, drawing the tables attention to you.

    “I forgot something in my dorm.” You muttered quietly, pivoting on your heel to rush through the door on the other side of the room, opposite from the one Yoongi had arrived in.

    “Wait, Y/N!” Haerin exclaimed, rising from her own seat with a worried expression.

    “Yeah, we’ll come!” Luna chimed in, her spat with Taehyung forgotten.

    You didn’t slow for them, focused on reaching the hallway before the green monster hiding out on your back was discovered by the one person who was the source of it. You cursed yourself over and over again in your head. This feeling of being at someone else's mercy was something you loathed. It was something every person would experience at least once in their life; you knew this. But it didn’t make it any easier when it happened. Feeling small and insecure, the insults directed to yourself spewed from your brain. You’d thought you’d grown past this and had learnt to not fall too deep before anything had ever even happened. Apparently you had been wrong.

    The tapping of two pairs of feet caught up with you. Luna remarked once her and Haerin were by your side, “What assholes.”

    “They didn’t do anything.” You replied before letting out a sigh. “I didn’t want him to see me is all. I feel so stupid.”

    “Y/N,” Haerin frowned, “you can’t help liking someone.”

    “I know.” You agreed. “I just don’t understand why it upset me and I hate that i’m mad when I literally have no reason to be. It’s not like we even had a thing, y’know? I just carried on one sidedly and got ahead of myself.”

    The girls stayed silent by your side, nodding while Luna patted your shoulder. They didn't defend you because in all honesty, you really had just gotten ahead of yourself. “It’s okay to just really want someones dick sometimes.”

    “Luna!” Haerin chided while you burst into a laugh, breaking the solemn atmosphere.

    “What? Its true and she hasn’t had any lately.” Luna reasoned, putting her chin in her hand like she was thinking. “Maybe it was just that he’s hot and you’re horny and y’know, pheromones and stuff.”

    “That is true.” You quirked your head contemplatively.

    “I have an idea!” Haerin interjected. “That guy with the long hair and is really annoying said his frat house is having a party tonight.”

    “I forgot about that!” Luna exclaimed excitedly. “Lets go get drunk, forget about Yongle or whatever,” you couldn’t help but snort, “and maybe even land you a guy for the night to work out all this frustration!”

    “Well?” Haerin looked at you optimistically. Right after she’d mentioned getting drunk you knew you’d go, but you played it like you weren’t sure. A hopeful silence paused the conversation for a moment, before a grin stretched across your lips and you nodded. The girls by your side nearly shouted with enthusiasm, hooking their arms with yours while you giggled and outsiders rolled their eyes at your groups antics.

    The day seemed to drag, as it always did. However, today it was almost like someone had hit rewind, each time you looked at the clock feeling like a punch in the gut. All you wanted was to go home, beat your face, and get drunk with the people who loved you. As time ticked away, you did start to feel better. You credited this to Luna’s explanation. After all, your initial attraction to Yoongi, who you avidly avoided for the remainder of the day, was purely physical. Granted, you had grown interested in him, but it wasn’t like you were in love. Looking back at the days you’d spent in his company, your mind analyzed every second, coming up with reasons why your body reacted to him or why your mind became goo. In short, you chalked it up as lust, telling yourself that you would’ve felt the same way with any attractive guy with how long it’d been since you’d been intimate with a person. By the time the clock struck half past 3, you’d successfully convinced yourself that Yoongi hadn’t actually upset you, your hormones had.

    Feeling confident again, there was a spring in your step as you trotted down the halls. Outfit choices and makeup selections swiped through your thoughts, anticipation bubbling as you thought about the night to come. All your musings clouded your senses. So much so, you didn’t notice when Taehyung waltzed up beside you and threaded his arm through yours.

    “Holy shit!” A squeal erupted from your lips, your free hand coming to clutch your chest.

    “Hi,” Taehyung grinned, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction with startling you.

    “You scared the crap out of me, Tae.” Loosening the hold on your chest, you punched him on the arm, though a good natured smile coated your mouth.

    “Sorry, sorry,” He apologized, though you knew from the giggles that he didn’t mean it in the slightest. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna grab a bite and see a horror movie?”

    “Tempting,” The hand you hit him with rested on his forearm, giving him a little squeeze of appreciation. Without saying anything, you knew he was worried about you. This morning you knew he’d felt guilty about what had happened from the seven messages he’d sent asking you if you were alright. Even though you’d reassured him every time, his actions were a testament to the kind of friend he was to you. He refused to cease his pestering until he was positive that there wasn’t a hint of sadness lingering inside your heart. “I can’t though. I’m going to a party in that one frat house on the corner.”

    “You are?” He feigned vexation. “Why wasn’t I invited?!”

    A shrug from you jostled your knotted arms, “I just hadn’t seen you yet.”

    “Well, I’m coming. I won't breathe a word to He Who Shall Not Be Named.” He reassured you and drew his vacant arm up to draw a cross over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

    Snorting at his reference, you shook your head indifferently, “It’s fine. I don’t care if he’s there.”

    Taehyungs eyes became slivers, lips forming an ‘n’ from his skepticism. “Yeah, okay.”

    Laughing at his distorted face, you rebutted, “I honestly don’t!”

    “Alright,” he acknowledged, though the suspicion he exuded didn’t fade.

    Opening the exit doors, you shivered and let your grasp on your friend slacken as you prepared to head your separate ways. Starting on the path to your respective home, you walked backwards so you still faced Taehyung. “Come to my dorm at nine-ish, okay? We’ll sneak you in to pregame.”

    Instead of replying, he merely shot you a thumbs up and a smile, zipping up his coat to the top and jogging off down the sidewalk. Turning around, you shoved your hands in your pockets, the memory of that first night with Yoongi flashing in your mind briefly before you forced it back into the vault of things you would rather ignore. Sighing wistfully, you carried yourself down the path, your previous daydreams coming back to life as the cold air nipped at you through your jacket.

    The party was like any other frat party you’d been to; cramped, loud, and vaguely smelling like something that had been left out to rot. You didn't mind much though, the alcohol in your bloodstream making all that seem somehow pleasant. Your vision was slightly blurred, though you were very much coherent. The taste of smoke lingered in your mouth even after you took a swig of your drink, head bobbing to the music while musing about everything and nothing.

    As promised, Taehyung had joined in on the fun. Accompanying the three of you and declaring himself your honorary bodyguard of the night after he was a few beers in. However, you knew he wouldn’t be a very good one seeing as though he tried his best, his attention always seemed to swerve off in the direction of Luna. He meant well, but he was a flirty guy and she was what he liked. You could see them on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, Taehyung grinning like he’d won a prize as Luna tossed her head back as she laughed. A small smile graced your lips. They’re cute.

    Haerin was still by your side though, a slightly sour look on her face because ‘she already has a boyfriend and this is supposed to be girls night, so what the fuck?’ You had patted her shoulder sympathetically when you heard the stinging in her words and muttered a short reassurance that it was okay. Watching the dynamic play out, worry tugged at your mind, knowing that something more was going on and that you should probably address it. But fuck it. You were the one who was supposed to be comforted tonight for your brief and bizarre lapse in judgement. The weird love triangle wait for another day.

    After successfully drawing her attention away from your two best friends, the two of you knocked cups, vowing to find a good lay for the night and downing the burning liquid. Since then, the pair of you milled about, giggling to each other as you scouted for candidates. Bouncing around, there were a few guys who interested you, stopping to chat and lay down some ground work to give yourself options as everyone did in college. However, even as you smiled sweetly and laughed at their mediocre jokes, your mind always seemed to revert to the fact that they weren't who you really wanted. And yet, you trudged on, giving out sly touches and coy glances all the while ignoring the nagging sensation burning at the back of your brain.

    “I have to go to the washroom.” Haerin leaned in close to tell you after a while. Shuffling to the stairs, you assured her that you’d be fine waiting on the main level for her, not wanting to fight your way through the throngs of people unnecessarily.

    And so, here you were. Back against the wall with the rim of your cup touching your bottom lip, you fiddled with the hem of your long sleeve crop top that you’d paired with a faux suede skirt despite the chilly weather. Taking a moment for yourself, you noted that Taehyung and Luna weren’t where they had been before. Tugging out your phone that you’d tucked into the pocket of your oversized jean jacket for safekeeping, you shot Taehyung a quick text asking where he was and letting him know where you were. Storing your phone back away, you glanced up the stairs as it had been a little while. Wondering what was taking so long, you shifted your weight from foot to foot impatiently. A few minutes passed. Then another few. And another. When you were nearing the 20 minute mark and the end of your rope, you heaved a sigh, coming to the conclusion that she’d either met someone or had been dragged off by someone else. Resigning yourself to having to play mom and find her, you were just about to start your search when you heard a familiar voice rasp, “hey.”

    All the warmth that had accumulated in you seemed to seep out of every pore, your eyes growing wide as you swiveled your head toward the intruder. Drooping, ink eyes captured your, a telltale glaze across them that made him look spaced out though he was looking right at you. You gave him a once over, his black jeans sticking close to him while his grey shirt and plaid combo did the opposite. Clearing your throat a little, your eyes raked back up to his, your indifferent facade cracking when you spotted a knowing smirk on his lips. Moving the plastic cup away from your mouth, you spoke as you always did to him,“hey.”

    “You ran away this morning.” He stated.

    “Ah,” a blush touched your cheeks, “I forgot my notebook in my dorm.”

    He nodded but his features displayed something akin to disappointment, stepping closer when someone grazed his back. “You seemed like you were in a hurry.”

    You could smell the lingering scent of beer wafting toward you when he spoke, “I didn’t want to be late.”

    He quirked a brow, never being one to fall for someone's bullshit. “Y/N, you’re late everyday.”

    “Am not,” you quipped back though the corner of your mouth betrayed you by curling upward. “I didn’t know you kept a record of my attendance.”

    He chuckled lowly, “I don’t, but it’s hard not to notice when Taehyung seems to vibrate like a puppy when you come in.”

    A laugh tumbled out of you at that, the mental image appearing behind your eyes. Yoongi grinned back, a hand coming out to rest on your lower back, tugging you closer as someone tried to get by the two of you. The giggling died down as his hand felt like it was scorching through your jacket. Your chests were only a small distance away now and you found yourself absentmindedly leaning in closer to his warmth. That tug in your chest roaring to life and inching you closer. Eyes meeting his, the smile he’d worn had dissipated into a line. He didn’t remove his hand completely, but instead let it drift to the hem of your skirt. Skin skimmed your thigh as he fingered the fabric, his expression one you’d never seen him with before, but tantalizing all the same. A flash of pink wet his lip, voice low when he spoke, “You look good.”

    “Thanks.” A current of titillation shocked your core, rendering yourself unable to say anything more than that. Dark irises fluttered between your lips and eyes, the distance between you carving away. However, as soon as he leaned down just enough to grant you vision behind him, you spotted Jimin talking to some blonde in the corner. Immediately the anticipation that was threatening to boil over, died down into a faint ripple. Before you could catch yourself, you muttered, “You really are good, aren’t you?”

Halting, Yoongi’s brow furrowed in confusion. Straightening, he looked lost as he replied, “good at what?”

    But you never got to reply, a voice interrupting you, “Min Yoongi!”

    Recognizing the deep tone which belonged to Taehyung, the pair of you shot apart, your skin mourning when Yoongi's no longer graced yours. Yoongi put on an impressively bored face, looking behind you at your sloppy friend who trudged over to throw an arm over you. “What?”

    “Ugh,” you winced, attempting to shove Taehyungs hand off your shoulder. “Tae, you reek of booze.”

    “Sorry, some guy spilled a full beer on me,” he gazed down at you apologetically, before sharpening his eyes and glaring at Yoongi, making you want to shrink and hide. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

    “Me?” Yoongi asked, bewildered. “No? Why would I?”

    It was silent for a second as Taehyung glowered at him. “Well, whatever. You’re not allowed to hang out with Y/N today. So sorry. Go hang out with that chick from the other night.”

    Yoongi’s head cocked to the side, “Who?”

    “You know who!” Taehyung exclaimed, drunkenly pushing a finger into his friends chest. Yoongi glanced at you for help, but all you could do was stare down at the ground mortified. In any other situation, you probably would’ve keeled over laughing at Taehyung’s grandpa act. Now? Not so much. I’m going to kill him. “The one Jimin wanted to know about this morning. Go hang with her, Y/N is mine tonight.”

    “Taehyung!” Smacked him in the chest at his suggestive words. “Can you not say it like that?!”

    Taehyungs bottom lip jutted out, pouting while Yoongi started to put pieces together. “Wait, you mean that one?”

    He pointed at the girl Jimin was with.

    “Yeah! Jimin wouldn’t shut up about her all morning, saying how hot she was and that he had to ask you for her number and blah, blah, blah.” With each new word that Taehyung spat out, the more you wished you could just run away, praying that Yoongi wouldn’t connect the dots.

    “Tae, where is Luna?” You asked, trying to make an escape route before it went any further.

    “I left her on the porch because I saw you and Yoongi through the window. Why?”

    “Is that why you avoided me today?” It was like someone dumped ice on you, your jaw clenching and your eyes catching Yoongi’s, realization shining in their depths.

    “Of course it’s not,” Taehyung replied, inadvertently outing you. “Idiot--”

    “Taehyung!” The sound of Lunas garbled speech rang in your ears. Turning to the sound of her voice, she stumbled toward your group, bumping into almost every person.

    “Oh, Christ.” You muttered.

    “I forgot to say,” Taehyung murmured beside you, “She’s kinda really drunk.”

    “No shit.” You replied, catching Lunas arm as she neared you and dragging her toward you.

    “Y/N!” She grinned while swaying in your grasp, untroubled by her own level of intoxication. Yawning once, she rubbed her eyes and slurred, “What time is it?”

    “It’s late,” You lied; it was only 1 am. “Wanna go?”

    She nodded while Taehyung let go of you to swing her arm over his shoulder for support, his hand gripping her waist tightly to keep her steady. “I’ll take her outside.”

    “Okay,” you replied, moving her hair out of her face and resisting the overwhelming urge to take a picture as her head lolled back. “I’ll find Haerin, but don’t leave without me, okay?”

    Taehyung nodded, his own drunken stupor seeming to have worn off a bit due to the situation. Surging forward, you watched as Taehyung did his best to usher her toward the door. Luna wasn’t a big help though, stopping every few seconds to talk to someone and telling Taehyung to slow down. Yoongi's hand encasing your wrist diverted your attention away.

    Oh yeah, the conversation you’d been having, or rather he and Taehyung had been having, coming back to mind, that. Dread consumed you, glancing at him unwillingly. He jutted his chin toward the staircase. “Come with me for a minute.”

    He didn't seem to notice the reluctance in your voice when you responded, “Okay.”

    Tugging, he lead you through the crowd, cutting a path for you as he weaved. Most people parted for him on the staircase as he guided you up, glancing back to make sure you were okay every few seconds. However, a few grumbled in annoyance when he bumped shoulders with them or interrupted a couple from more intimate activities. As always, he paid no mind to other people's opinions and simply put on his icy stance that he used with most anyone who was a stranger. Not rude, but more apathetic. Reaching the top, he took you down the hallway. He didn’t stop at the first few doors, but instead waited until you neared the back of the large house to start jiggling handles and peeking inside rooms for occupants. Once he found an empty one, he pulled you inside, closing the door and latching the lock.

    Letting go of your wrist, you smoothed the palms of your hands on your skirt. Much to your own dismay, he still made you giddy, something each guy downstairs had failed to do. You found yourself tracking his movements and studying them so closely that your resolution that he was just some guy you wanted to fool around with wavered. Clasping your digits together in front of you, you tried to slow your pounding heart, hoping Yoongi wouldn't notice how tense you were. The room was quiet, only the muffled sounds of the party filling the silence.

    “I never took you as the jealous type.” A vivid shade of red dusted your cheeks at his words.

    “I’m not.” You replied, refusing to let yourself slip and put yourself in a vulnerable position.

    Yoongi stepped toward you, gently reaching out to tuck away a stray strand of hair behind your ear before shoving his hands in his pockets. Locking eyes, you struggled to tell what he was thinking, which you assumed was something about you completely and utterly embarrassing yourself in front of him multiple times. “So, that’s not why you left the table this morning a half hour before class started?”

    “I told you I forgot my notebook.” It was apparent that your excuse wasn’t going to appease him this time around by the tired look he gave you. Sighing, you crossed your arms and admitted a portion of the truth, “I also didn’t want to hear about your new notch. Satisfied?”

    “A little.” He shrugged, a small triumphant grin adorning his lips. “Although, you probably should’ve stuck around.”

    “What do you mean?” You replied, a little annoyed by how cryptic he was being, wishing that he would just be blunt like he usually was.

    “If you’d stayed, you’d know that I never slept with her.” He explained. “Namjoon did.”

    “Oh,” was all you could say, though a heavy sense of relief that you didn’t quite understand made you feel warm. Before you knew it, a smile crept up on your lips. You tried to quell it at soon as you’d noticed by biting the inside of your cheek.

    “Satisfied?” He repeated after you.

    Peering at him sheepishly through your lashes, you nodded. You did your best not to quake from the way he glanced down at you, a little smug. The wall you usually encountered was no longer present, like he was choosing to allow you even the smallest access. The unabashed lust in his irises set you at ease, knowing he felt even a fraction of the attraction that you did. Distantly, you pondered whether this was all apart of his deck of cards, though you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. If it was, it was a damn good card and you weren't a sore loser. At least, not right now. Feeling foolhardy from your previous actions, you couldn’t help but spill the truth now, if anything just to explain why you’d acted so rash, “you know, I’m usually not like this.”

    “Like what?” He said lowly as you unfolded your arms and reached out to grab hold of the edges of his plaid shirt.

    “This shaken up by someone,” feeling a little more calm now from talking about how you were feeling as you fiddled with the fabric, you steeled yourself and took the first step as you edged him closer. “There’s something about you that makes me so annoyingly interested in you. Usually, I’m much more of a casual person about this stuff and not quite so--”

    “Jealous?” He smirked.

    “No, I don’t like that word.” You scrunched your nose, bodies just about touching while Yoongi let you drag him in, hands still in his pockets. “More like… eager.”

    “That’s too bad.” He rasped.

    “Why is that?” His hand slid out of his right pocket to toy with the band of your skirt.

    “I liked watching you act like you didn’t care.”

    “Why? You like it when girls act cold to you?” You teased.

    “No,” he grinned devilishly, making your core tighten. “It just means I can have more fun with you.”

    Your breathing was heavy with need, as he hooked a surprisingly cold finger into the band he’d been playing with and coaxed you forward to close whatever remained of the gap between you. Lips pillowed yours in a short kiss before coming back for more. His hand slowly creeping to your back, one finger still underneath the fabric of your skirt. Pecks became fervent, gradually getting longer and longer in duration. Frustration started to build up as he moved away whenever you thought you were going to get more. Eventually, you couldn’t stand it anymore, reaching up and grasping the collar of his shirt with one hand while the other encased the side of his neck, wrenching him down to you. The rumble of a laugh tickled your lips as he slid out his other hand from his pocket and let it join the other. Electricity seemed to dance through your body, lighting you up with pleasure when his tongue finally swiped along your bottom lip. You were quick to grant him access as a hand slid lower on your body to caress the top of your butt cheek. Keening when his tongue met yours in a play for power, you wound your digits into his hair. Soft strands fluttered against your skin. The hand on your ass inched lower, squeezing hard in time with the motions of your mouths and pressing you against his groin. Fingers tightened their hold on his hair in response, making him grunt. He was mistaken if he thought you were one to be obedient.

    Sliding your hands down to his chest, you maintained the kiss as you backed him toward the bed. When his knees knocked yours, you broke away from him, a smirk on your face as you pushed him backwards onto the mattress. Leering at you slyly, he waited patiently for you to crawl on top of him, kissing his body over the fabric of his shirt on your way up to his lips. Settling down on his lap, you felt yourself clench when his hard-on pressed against your center. Lips touched his once before kissing down into his neck. You quickly gathered that Yoongi wasn’t a very vocal partner, which honestly you could have deduced just from the way he is in everyday life. Sucking on the skin under his jaw, you knew you found his sweet spot when he clenched his jaw, suppressing a moan. Smiling to yourself, you increased your pressure, forcing the blood toward the surface of his skin to create a nice plum blemish on his porcelain skin tone. Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth over his jeans, your underwear bunching and rubbing against your core. Hearing his breathing growing laboured, you sped up, grinding down harder on him. His head tilted to the side, giving you more space to work with, moving to create another mark that would show that he was yours, if only for tonight. Hands stroked your bare thighs as you shimmied a hand under his shirt, climbing higher up your legs before delving to your backside. With every motion you made, you felt his torso clench with pleasure, resisting the urge to rut up into you. Flipping up your skirt, his hands clutched your flesh so hard that you were sure he’d leave behind marks of his own. Helping your motions, you mewled into his neck after a particularly harsh squeeze, to which his shaft twitched. Your fingers traced down his abdomen to the waist of his jeans. Just as you freed the button from its confines, the jingle of your phone sounded from your jacket pocket.

    Stilling above him, you swore. Letting your weight rest in his lap, you rooted around in your pocket for the device, grimacing when you saw Haerin’s name on the screen. Accepting the call, you muttered a curt, “Hello?”

    “Hey, where are you?” The skin of your lips was pinched by your teeth as Yoongi drew shapes on your inner thigh.

    “I’m, um,” you had to pause to keep yourself from moaning when Yoongi wriggled below you, a dark look daring you to continue. Clearing your throat you placed a hand on his chest, digging your nails in to the fabric as a warning, though he merely smirked and continued drawing on your legs. “I’m upstairs. Why?”

    “Oh, fuck, are you with a guy?” Haerin asked, to which you simply hummed in confirmation. Yoongi suddenly sat up, his lips brushing over your collar bones making your thoughts fuzzy as you tired your best to focus on your conversation with Haerin. “I’m sorry Y/N, I’d handle it by myself but I can’t take care of both Tae and Luna.”

    A faint sense of worry invaded your bubble of pleasure, one of Yoongi's hands pressing you closer to him by the small of your back. “What happened? They were fine when I saw them.”

    “They passed out on the lawn.”

    Yoongi paused his ministrations, hearing Haerin’s words too. Heaving a sigh, you placed a hand on his shoulder and lifted yourself off of him to stand. “Alright, i’ll be down in a sec.”

    Ending the call, you fixed your skirt and hair while Yoongi buttoned his pants. “Sorry.”

    “Don’t be.” Yoongi reassured you, smoothing his collar and rubbing your lipstick off his neck. “I’ll take Taehyung home.”

“Thanks.” You giggled when you saw the traces of your lips staining his own. Licking your thumb, you gently rubbed the color away, teasing, “that’s a nice color on you.”

    “You think?” He raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and swooping in to kiss you, replacing the color you wiped away. “I’d better keep it on then.”

    You laughed and turned to the door, Yoongi’s fingers lacing together with yours. Each of you exited the room, faces still a little flushed while adorning grins. Yoongi stroked his thumb against yours, keeping you close as people glanced at you two and proceeded to whisper. You didn’t care though, still a little drunk off Yoongi's touch. Reaching the staircase, Yoongi speculated, “So how much you wanna bet that he threw up?”

    “Oh, I don’t need to bet on that.”