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#mini yoongi x reader
aloneatpeace · 9 months
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𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙲 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳
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BTS MAZE RUNNER AU
Characters
Chapters
One ⬛ two. ⬛ Three ⬛ four ⬛ five ⬛ Six ⬛ seven ⬛ Eight ⬛ nine
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luvismenu · 23 days
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Strange Addiction || Jeon Jungkook (mini series)
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Summary: Your dad's friend; Jungkook is your fuck buddy.
Genre:
texting au
fuck buddies
fluff
angst??
Pairing: dilf!jk + f!reader
Warning: praising, clingy jungkook, oc loves to tease, CEO jungkook, oc is a university student
a/n: this was a random idea so i am making it a small series?? Idk I am bored. anyway, hope you guys like it
🫶🏻
Index:
1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 5.5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9.end
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park-jimin-isnt-real · 7 months
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🍂 pairing: yoongi x reader (platonic) 🍂 rating: pg 🍂 au: "over the garden wall"-esque 🍂 genre: autumn?? a lil spooky, a lil whimsy, a lil mystery; not quite angst, not quite fluff 🍂 this part: you wake up on a bench in a forest, with no memory before then of recollection of how you got there. the person greeting you gives you three options: going into the Great Unknown (never to be seen again), wandering the woods (until you become an Edelwood tree), or spending a month in Devil Town. 🍂 tw: none for this part 🍂 wc: ~3.5k 🍂 track: Devil Town ~ Cavetown: "Life's alright in Devil Town, yeah, right, no one's gonna catch us now." (subtrack, Come Little Children ~ Adriana Figueroa, FamilyJules) 🍂 devil town masterlist 🍂 main masterlist 🍂 an: ahhh i can't believe it's finally here!! super special thanks and shout-out to @theharrowing for being the catalyst, inspo, and beta for this little project. i really hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think!
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"Led thru the mist, by the milk-light of moon..."
A warm forest canopy greeted you when you opened your eyes, the vibrant reds and oranges of the leaves dense enough you couldn't see the sky. The surface beneath you was hard and cold, with uncomfortable ridges digging into your back. The air was a little chilly, a little misty. You looked around, trying to get your bearings.
The tree trunks were thicker than you'd ever seen before, the bark on them nearly black, with strange holes and creases that almost looked like faces. Slowly, you sat up, carefully moving your limbs to stretch them out. You were lying on a bench, you discovered, in a small clearing next to a well-worn path.
Why did you wake up on a bench?
How did you get here?
"Hey." The voice was quiet and calm, but it still startled you. You thought you were alone out here. "How are you feeling?" You turned towards the sound and watched as a person came into view, almost like he was materializing from the mist between the trees itself.
"Who are you?" You asked as you moved backwards on the bench, hoping to keep some kind of distance between him and yourself. If you had a better idea of where you were, you would've run.
"I am the Guide," he answered, coming further out of the shadows. His hair was light and windswept, his face soft, his cat-like eyes deep and sharp. He kept his hands in the pockets of his coat. You weren't sure if that was comforting or not.
He also didn't really answer your question. "What does that mean?"
"It's pretty straight forward," he responded, "I guide. And I know you have plenty of questions, so just get them out now."
For right now, at least, he didn't seem to be a danger to you. If he was, he would've done something by now. Or maybe he was luring you into a false sense of security, getting you to drop your guard, and then he would strike. Still, he was offering answers of some kind, and you were in desperate need of those, however you could get them.
"Where am I?" You asked as you looked around again, hoping for greater understanding of the woods you had awoken in.
"You are in the Unknown."
Your gaze shot back to him, the Guide. "What does that mean??" You snapped more than asked, because while that was technically an answer, it still didn't tell you anything.
The Guide only shrugged, "If anyone knew, it wouldn't be called 'the Unknown', now would it?"
You could only blink at him, at his non-answers that he probably believed to be helpful. It took you a moment to regather your thoughts and move on to the next most pressing question. "Okay, so, what am I doing here?"
He didn't respond immediately this time. Instead, he opened and closed his mouth, the look on his face growing increasingly more frustrated. You glanced down, a movement in his coat pockets capturing your attention. It looked like his hands were shaking, or maybe he was clenching and unclenching his fists.
"I can't tell you that," he finally said, his voice less soft and comforting, carrying a bit of that frustration in its tone.
"Why not?"
"I can't tell you that either," he huffed. You opened your mouth again, but he continued, "And before you ask why again, know that I want to. I always want to. But I can't get the words out of my mouth. I'm not allowed to."
You felt just as frustrated as he looked. "So what can you do?"
That question seemed to relax him again, his body returning to its odd stillness as he continued to stand there. "I can tell you about the options you have now that you're here."
"Options?" You repeated. "Like what?"
The Guide finally pulled one of his hands out of his pockets, holding a single finger up. "Well, option one: you can walk off in that general direction," he gestured to your right, "towards the light, and enter into the Great Unknown." You turned to look where he indicated.
The path that the bench was next to led either left or right, and the way right was significantly brighter than its opposite. Despite the friendly glow, you felt unnerved.
"But don't people always say 'don't go into the light'?" Because going into the light often meant death.
"And you could listen to them," he said. "Those who choose to go into the Great Unknown are never seen or heard from again. But ultimately, that choice is up to you."
So that way was definitely death.
You looked back at him, hoping for something better. "And option two?"
"Option two is wandering around the woods here," the guide looked around at the trees, "until you eventually and inevitably turn into an Edelwood tree, whose wood—according to legend—is then harvested and turned into oil to be used in some ancient lantern that harbors the soul of the Beast that also wanders the wood."
Now you looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm sorry, what??" He didn't miss a beat or bat an eye, his voice stayed the same even, monotonous tone, he said all of that like it was just another day here, wherever you really were.
"According to legend," he repeated, then shrugging, added, "again, no one really knows. Supposedly, a couple of kids arrived in the Unknown a while back, and they defeated the Beast before taking their leave." He looked away from you again, turning his gaze to the closest tree and slowly looking up. "But if the Beast were truly gone, then why are people still turning into Edelwood trees?"
You paid closer attention to the trees surrounding you now, with their nearly black bark and face-like holes and creases, and felt hundreds of empty eyes fall on you in return. How many people had wandered through the woods here for the forest to become this dense? How many ghosts of screams could you hear echoing on the breeze?
How long would it take the same fate to befall you?
"Is there a third option?" You asked, much more subdued than your recent questions. Part of you wondered if the trees could hear you as well.
"Of course," the Guide answered, and you felt your shoulders relax just a bit at that. "Your third and last option is to spend a month in Devil Town."
You had to close your eyes and take a moment to breathe, to tell yourself to remain calm. "Devil Town."
"Yes. It's not an actual town of devils, that's just its name."
"And no one knows why?" You guessed, opening your eyes to glare at him again.
He merely shrugged, "If we did, it wouldn't be in the Unknown."
You forced yourself to breathe slower, counting to ten in your mind. Yes, the Guide had answered every question you asked, but every answer was a non-answer. They didn't satisfy any of the curiosity you possessed, they simply led to more questions and even more non-answers.
"So my options are, one: definitely death; two: becoming a tree; or three: going to someplace called Devil Town?"
"For a month."
"Huh?"
"If you choose to go to Devil Town, you can only stay for a month," he explained.
"What happens after a month?"
"You get kicked out and you have to make an official choice. Either the Great Unknown, or the woods."
"So if death and tree are my only options in the end, then why bother with Devil Town at all?"
"Well," he started, but then paused. He looked frustrated again, like there were things he wanted to say but wasn't allowed to. Finally, he sighed. "They're your only options in the end right now. Depending on how things go in Devil Town, when your month is up you could have some other, more rare options opened up to you."
That was the first bit of good news you had heard since you woke up. "Like what?"
"Like..." he paused again, still struggling against whatever force was trying to keep him silent. When he spoke again, this time he sounded strained. "Like staying in Devil Town permanently, or, even more unlikely, going home."
You almost stood up in excitement. "If I spend a month in Devil Town, I can go home?"
"Maybe. Again, it depends. There's a lot of things that factor into that becoming an option, and very few have ever achieved it."
"But there's a chance," you insisted.
"Yes," he conceded, starting to relax again.
Part of you wanted to jump up and start heading to the ill-named town, whatever direction it was in, but the other part of yourself held back. "Is that chance worth it?" You dared to ask.
"That's up to you," he responded, yet another non-answer.
You rolled your eyes, wondering when this cycle of questions and non-answers was going to end. "Well, you're the guide! Guide me!"
The Guide shook his head, "I can only guide you towards the Great Unknown or to Devil Town, but you have to choose first."
Something about that made you curious. "Did you choose Devil Town?"
"I did," he nodded, "and then I chose to stay."
"What's it like there?" If this was your best option, you at least wanted to know as much about it as you could before you officially chose it.
He shrugged, "Life's alright in Devil Town. There's not really much to do there, but plenty of people to talk to."
"When does the month start?"
"Once you set foot in the town limits. After that, you have to stay within those limits, or things start getting… messy."
"Messy how?"
"I can't talk about it," he almost snapped, probably getting annoyed at your ability to ask questions he can't answer the way he wanted to. You wanted to ask about that, but figured he wouldn't be able to tell you about that either. "Now, is Devil Town your choice?"
You took one last look to your right, towards where the Great Unknown lied, and then looked up at the trees around you. Death and tree would not give you a chance to get home. You took a deep breath, relishing the cool air, and stood up. "Yes. I'll go to Devil Town."
The Guide nodded, then turned towards your left and started down the path. "Follow me."
You walked behind him in silence. He didn't seem to be much for conversation now that you had made your choice. You looked around as you walked, trying to take in and appreciate your new surroundings, but the trees all looked like they were watching you and you couldn't hear any animals hiding up in the branches. The only sounds you could make out were your combined footsteps on the dirt and the wind rustling through the leaves.
You weren't sure how long had passed before you finally cracked and broke the silence yourself. "Do you have a name?"
"I am the Guide," he responded, rather curtly in comparison to your earlier questions.
"That's a title," you shot back. "Do you have a name? Something people call you when they're talking about you or they're trying to get your attention?"
He didn't answer you right away, and you thought he wasn't going to, that you would go back to walking in silence. After a bit more walking, however, he sighed and said, "I did once. Now I am the Guide, and that's how people refer to me."
"Just, the Guide? There's nothing else?"
"Yes." He stopped walking to turn and look at you, and you nearly ran into him. "Whoever we came to Devil Town as, that's not who we are anymore, so we don't have these 'names'." The Guide turned around again and continued on his way. "You'll understand more after some time there."
You didn't move for a moment, lost in thought wondering what he meant. How did someone just not have a name anymore? And why did he sound a little sad when he said it?
You shook yourself from your ponderings and ran a bit to catch up with him. The last thing you wanted was to get left behind, in fear that you'd end up lost and then turn into a tree anyway. You didn't ask him any more questions, instead letting him guide you in peace.
Soon, you could see a break in the trees ahead of you, and through the mist you could make out the silhouettes of buildings. You started to feel anticipation crawl up your spine as you grew closer, and you wondered at what point you crossed the town limits. Had your month started already?
You could practically feel the mist on your skin as you came out of the tree line, moist and sticky and cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked a bit closer to the Guide, not wanting to lose him. In front of you, Devil Town came fully into view.
The streets were made of cobblestone, with not a sidewalk or stoplight in sight. People loitered around the sides of buildings made of brick, or by lampposts that flickered as if their light was from a candle instead of a lightbulb. Everyone was dressed similarly, in coats that looked fuzzy and warm, with plaid scarves wrapped tightly around their necks. Many of the adults wore formal hats, while children had beanies or earmuffs.
It was like you stumbled into a ghost town that someone had decided to bring back to life, albeit unsuccessfully, and the remnants had yet to fade away again.
As the Guide led you further into Devil Town, an important question came to mind. "Where will I stay?" There were so many small buildings and even smaller shops, but you had yet to see anything that resembled a house or apartment complex.
"With the Fool," he answered, though it didn't give you any more confidence. "He has a book shop with a spare room. That's where most people like you stay until the month is up."
"How do I unlock the option to go home?" You whispered this question, not wanting anyone to overhear you. Home must be a touchy subject for those who were still here. "Is there something specific I need to do?"
The Guide only sighed in frustration, a sound you were starting to get used to. "I can't tell you that." It didn't deter you this time, you simply changed your question.
"What can you tell me?"
He took his time answering you again, this time waiting until the two of you were standing in front of a wooden door. With one hand on the doorknob, the Guide turned to look at you. The intensity of his gaze—locked dead onto yours—forced you back a step.
When he spoke, that intensity was carried through his voice, quiet but pointed. "Devil Town is tricky, and those who are here are trickier. Whatever it is you are running from, it won't catch you here. It can't. But that doesn't mean you're safe. Don't trust anyone, not even me, and especially not yourself."
He didn't give you a moment to recover, to process his words, before turning the knob and pushing inside the building, leaving you to follow after hesitantly.
"Ah, the Guide!" A new, deeper, cheerier voice said. "What brings you here? Another lost soul to harbor?"
You didn't like the term lost soul.
You looked around as they spoke, at the shelves and shelves of books. Or, book. Maybe you were tired or maybe you had become too confused, but it looked like every book was an exact copy of the one next to it: same height, same thickness, same color, same title.
What kind of bookshop only sold one book?
"Yes," came the response from the only person you had met so far. "Is your spare room empty?"
"Of course!" You finally looked at the new person, the Fool, the Guide had said. He was much taller, and was actually smiling at you, with deep dimples in his cheeks. He seemed much kinder than the Guide had when you first met him, but his words outside the shop still reverberated around in your head. "It's right this way," he gestured behind him, "please follow me, miss…?" He trailed off, waiting for you to introduce yourself.
That was when you realized, the Guide had never asked for your name. He never wondered who you were, beyond "another lost soul" to guide through the Unknown.
Don't trust anyone, not even me, especially not yourself.
What scared you the most, however, was that you couldn't answer his question.
"I don't remember," you told them, your voice small and shaky in a way it hadn't been since you woke up on that bench. You were confused, you were concerned, but you hadn't necessarily been scared. "I don't remember my name." You looked back and forth between them, hoping for some kind of help, though you weren't sure what either could offer you.
The Guide merely blinked at your words, probably having heard them before, countless times from countless others he's had to do this with since he chose to stay here. The Fool continued smiling at you, also not concerned but seeming to offer you more comfort.
"That's alright," the Fool shrugged, "you can pick out who you are later. I'll help you, if you like." You wanted his offer to be kind and generous, but it only reminded you of the conversation you had with the Guide on the way here and it only added to the fear that now had a solid grip around your throat.
Still, you walked towards the Fool, wanting to lay down and rest and get a proper moment to think and process everything that had happened. You did try to keep your distance from the bookshelves, still put off by the repeating book.
"Take care of her," the Guide said, taking his own steps towards the door.
"You know I will."
"I know you will try," the Guide sighed, "we'll see what happens. And for you."
You looked back at him, "Yes?"
"Your time has started. Be careful with what you do with it." The Guide turned away, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn it, though, instead his knuckles were turning white with how hard he was grasping it. "And whatever you do, stay away from the Loner."
The Guide sounded strained again, like he was specifically trying to get those words out, like it was something he wasn't supposed to be telling you but managed to anyway.. With that final warning, he pulled the door open and exited the bookshop, leaving you alone with the Fool.
"Don't mind him so much," the Fool tried again to comfort you as he led you down a small hallway and up a short staircase. "He tries to act all intense but he's practically harmless." You didn't respond, still worried about too many things, still trying to process everything that was happening.
He stopped outside a simple wooden door and gently pushed it open for you. "Here is your room," he said, "get yourself situated, rest if you like. I'll be downstairs."
You stepped into the space, cozy but still void of any life. A single bed, a chair in a corner, a wardrobe in the opposite one. The window was thin and didn't have much of a view, but it didn't let the cold in.
"Thank you, um..." you trailed off, still unused to the strange naming system. You felt especially uncomfortable calling him the Fool.
"The Fool," he said for you, still smiling. A strange and silly part of you wanted to poke his dimples, just to see if they were real. "And you're welcome. Don't worry too much about forgetting your name. Like I said, we can pick one out for you."
With that, the Fool left you alone, closing the door but not all the way, giving you space but letting you know if you needed something you could go to him.
You went over to the wardrobe, gently tugging on the vintage-looking knobs, worried they would pop out if you pulled too hard. The doors creaked open, showing you clothes similar in fashion to what the people in town were wearing, all dark tones with simple patterns, somewhere between vintage pioneer and modern school uniforms. You shrugged off your current coat, the long, dark brown one you didn't remember how you had gotten, and hung it up on an empty hanger.
Then you tenderly sat on the bed, testing out the mattress before putting your full weight on it. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was better than the bench you woke up on.
Why did you wake up on a bench?
How did you get here?
What had you gotten yourself into?
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🍂 thanks for reading!! 🍂 tagging: @secfir
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chimivx · 2 years
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simply one-derful. // myg.
pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }
summary: It was incredibly ironic, your daughter sharing a birthday with her favorite person- besides her parents. Thinking her first birthday is going to be spectacular, an unexpected letter in the mail turns things upside down... Until your found family comes together to have an amazing night.
words: 7k
warnings: birthday blues (lets be honest we all get em), sex talk obvi, suggestive convo, grown adults partying, drinking, alcohol, readers bad parents are back, mentions of bad parenting, jikook warning bc I LOVE THEM If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.
a/n: HI! Another Vegas series mini... I can't help myself. I love picking apart their life and putting it in writing. I adore being able to get to know them. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGKOOK AND BABY MIN! :) Yes, I know I'm posting a day early.
{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }
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~ September 1st, 2022 ~
“Here, D, oh my god,” You hand your babbling baby over to Yoongi who takes her with furrowed brows. He had literally just walked into the kitchen, ready to help you start setting up for the party, and you were already frustrated, storming out of his presence.
Holding his daughter in his hands like a football for a second, he flips her around and pops her on his hip, giving her a curious look.
“What’s wrong with Mom?” He asks quietly, “What’d you do?” 
“Mama,” Your daughter says to him, patting his chest with her hands, “Ma, ma, ma,” She says to the beat of her tiny tapping hands. Yoongi chuckles.
“My little protégé,” He whispers so he knows you don’t hear him. You’re very adamant about your daughter becoming her own person, and Yoongi definitely agrees, but can’t help but feel like some of his genius was passed on to his little one.
“I like the song,” He says to her as she continues her tapping and babbling.
“Ma, ma, maaa,” She drags out, making him laugh. Walking around the marble counters, he spies a pile of mail next to the sink, one that hadn’t been there before.
“MA!” Your daughter shrieks, and Yoongi is quick to hush her.
“Something made Mom mad,” He says to her under his breath, looking through the mail for something that would trigger your, very rare, anger.
“Mah?” She questions, copying the sound of her fathers words, not even knowing what they even meant. 
Tossing aside pointless letters and junk mail, he pauses as he catches the torn edge of a light pink envelope forcefully shoved within the pages of one of your magazines.
“Aha,” He says.
“Aha,” The baby on his hip copies him, clearly this time. 
“You smartie,” Yoongi smiles at her, getting her to beam a partially toothless grin that reminded him of you. Her nose crinkles just like yours does.
Pulling the envelope out of the silky pages of Vogue, he flips it over and frowns as he reads the return label. Your daughter's name was written in the center of it in crisp cursive with your home address written beneath it in neat handwriting.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” He mutters, feeling his own blood start to boil. 
The top of the envelope is torn open, so he assumes you’ve already opened and read it. Following suit, he uses the hand beneath his baby's bottom to pull the card out, tossing the envelope to the side without care. 
Keeping the baby on his right hip with his good shoulder, he lifts the card up with his other hand, giving it a good look.
The front of it is frilly, pink and glittery. There’s two ballerina’s on either side of the script that read, “To a ONE-derful Granddaughter”, and Yoongi can’t help but huff a pathetic laugh. As expected, his daughter copies him.
“You got that right,” He mumbles to her, flipping the card open with his thumb. A one hundred dollar bill falls out of it onto the counter. Your daughter spots it and reaches for it, but Yoongi is quick to pull her away, telling her it was dirty and that she wasn’t allowed to touch it.
Eyes scanning the kind of cute message the card came with, he reads what’s written at the bottom and audibly expresses his fury with a groan.
‘Happy Birthday to the sweet little girl who made us Grandparents. One year ago today we had no idea that our lives would change this way. We weren’t expecting you. Life is full of surprises and we’re definitely sure you were one of them. Here’s to hoping one day we meet. Until then, chin up, work hard, make us proud, and Happy Birthday!’
It was signed by your parents.
Yoongi wanted to scream. He wanted to scream so loud that your parents would hear him, but he kept quiet. He kept quiet for you.
It wasn’t ever Yoongi’s idea to share things with them. It wasn’t his idea to give your parents the address to your home, and it never once crossed his mind to tell them that you two have even had a fucking child together. 
They’ve never even met him before, they barely had an idea of who their daughter was sharing her life with. You used to make jokes together about how one Google search could expose you to the masses, but they didn’t care enough to even do that.
He never put up a fight for your sake.
Though you both share the same feelings and festering bitterness for the people who brought you into this world, he never held you back from reaching out to them. Sure, he’d share some thoughts, instill some kind of warning in case you didn’t get an answer, or one you weren’t ready to hear, but other than that, he kept quiet.
He’d rather be there for you when they weren’t instead of getting in your way and sparking an argument right off the bat.
You must’ve opened this and read it before he came down from his office, no wonder you hustled out the way you did.
“Baby?” Yoongi calls out to you, wherever you ended up.
“Baaaaay?” Your daughter shouts just as loud, pulling the card that was inevitably for her out of his hands. She flips it over a couple of times before figuring out how to open it up, acting like she was reading it.
“This is no time to be funny, miss,” Yoongi laughs softly, whispering to her before snatching the card from her little hands.
“Hey, baby?” Yoongi tries again, shoving the card back into the envelope, money and all. His fingers are left with tiny pieces of pink glitter all over them.
“Yes, dear?” He hears from the foyer of the house, followed by the closing of the front door. Your daughter looks at her father curiously at the sound of a new voice, trying to place it within her small aray of people she knew and remembered.
“We’re in here, Kook,” Yoongi says, starting for the doorway. Meeting him at the threshold, wincing as your daughter screeched at the sight of her Uncle Kookie, he hands her over to the man who was wearing a grin three sizes too big. Kicking her feet like crazy, she instantly cuddles up into his chest, her own special way of giving people a hug.
“Happy Birthday, little goofball,” Jungkook kisses the top of her head and rocks her side to side. She looks up at him with a smile and babbles a few meaningless words to him.
“Think she just said it back,” Yoongi tilts his chin to the side, and squints his eyes, getting Jungkook to laugh. “Seriously though, Happy Birthday brother.” 
“Thanks,” Jungkook cheeses again, then glances over Yoongi’s shoulder, “Where’s the wife?” He asks, looking forward to seeing you. Yoongi gives his eyes a roll and sighs.
“She’s not my wife yet,” He whispers.
“So?” Jungkook scoffs, “Close enough.”
“We’re engaged, Kook,” Yoongi says a little more cautiously.
“She’s so weird for this,” Jungkook smiles as he shakes his head, “It’s close enough, why does she find it weird for me to call her your wife?” 
“Why?” Your daughter, who was contently laying against Jungkook’s chest, perks up and copies the last syllables he spoke that she could say. He looks down at her and widens his eyes.
“Exactly,” He says to her, and Yoongi laughs.
“I, uh, I don’t know where she went,” He says, watching his daughter lift a hand to point at Jungkook's lip ring, touching it with care. Using his tongue to make it move side to side, she’s mesmerized, pointer finger stuck in the air.
“There’s a card from her parents on the counter,” Yoongi’s words make the youngest freeze, only his eyes flickering up to give him a look, “I know,” Yoongi rolls his eyes in agreement to Jungkook’s unspoken opinion on the matter, “They sent money and everything. There’s a message in it, it’s totally backhanded, I just… Kook, it’s so fucked they’d do this.” 
“Is there a return address, I swear to… Where is it?” Jungkook asks, “You said on the counter?” Nodding, Yoongi sighs.
“Want me to take her?” He holds out his hands to his brother, offering to take his daughter back. Shielding her away from her own father, looking subtly offended, Jungkook shakes his head.
“Uh uh, this is our day,” He says, and brushes past Yoongi, heading straight into the kitchen, “Now, when I need to throw a punch, you can take her back.” Jungkook says a bit louder. Yoongi can hear the shuffle of the paper, and the opening of the card, so he hurries to the stairs to avoid Jungkook's initial reaction.
Trekking up the carpeted, dual level stairs, Yoongi peers into every open door in the upstairs hallway. You aren’t in your bedroom, the bathroom, the guest room, or his office, so his only other option was your daughter's room, but her door was shut.
Stepping in front of it, he drums two fingers on the wood to let you know he was coming in.
“Hey, you in here?” He asks softly, turning the knob, pushing the door to the sage green bedroom open, finding you sitting in front of your baby’s chestnut wooden crib with your legs tucked into your chest.
Side eyeing him, you sigh heavily and point your focus forward on the matching dressers and changing table.
Yoongi shuts the door behind him, standing against it for a second in the silence of the comforting room. Her walls were decorated with pictures of her and her family, and adorable works of art with the sweetest messages on them that you had designed yourself. In fact, you had mapped out her entire room on an app five months into your pregnancy, and Yoongi, always on your side, found a way to make it happen.
Coming closer, he sits down on the floor beside you and leans his back on the wood, looking over at you. Your eyes were lifeless, and that told him more than he needed to know. He waits for you to say something first, a couple of minutes going by before you do.
“Jungkooks here?” You half ask, keeping your eyes on the furniture.
“He is,” Yoongi’s voice is gentle.
“Baby’s happy then,” You mumble, acting like she hadn’t been happy as a clam all morning, making his face screw up in confusion.
“She’s always happy,” He objects, tone growing stronger. Glancing to your lap, you take a deep, shaky breath. Yoongi watches a tear slide down your cheek.
“Is she?” You ask just above a whisper. Throwing his hands out in front of him, he’s ready to go off, but stops himself. Instead, he closes his hands into fists and places them on his knees, reminding himself where this new, sudden thought was stemming from. The rotten woman who put that card in the mail.
“She’s happy,” He says, “The happiest goddamn baby I’ve ever seen,” He pauses, hoping something he says is going to fix this, “You know why she’s as happy as she is?” You finally look up at him, your teary eyes wrecking his heart, “‘Cause she’s got a badass mom.” Reaching over, he wipes away the tear that had fallen and gives you a smile.
“I sent them a message two weeks after she was born,” You say, “Two weeks,” Yoongi nods, listening wholeheartedly, “They got her name, her stats, the date, that’s it. Not a picture, not a where, not a how, not a who with,” Your voice falls into a whisper, “They didn’t even ask me anything, D. I didn’t get a, how’re you doing, how’re you feeling… Not even a, how’s the baby?” Reaching up for one of his hands, he’s quick to snatch it up, holding it over his chest.
“I remember,” He says, encouraging you to continue.
“They didn’t answer the text,” You shake your head, your face twisting up in shock, “I gave them vague ass information, and they still didn’t ask me a single question. It’s been a YEAR! And not a single, fucking, question. They haven’t asked to see a photo- I could be lying!” Pressing your other hand to your chest, you start to laugh at the thought of you faking an entire child just to get your parents attention. Yoongi takes a deep breath, letting you feel everything you need to feel at this moment.
“I could be totally lying to them,” You shake your head again, “‘Life is full of surprises we’re definitely sure you were one of them’, get out of here with that load of bullshit,” Squeezing Yoongi’s hand, you give him a look and shrug your shoulders, “They’re right though, she wasn’t planned. She was a total surprise. They expected something like this to happen, that’s how irresponsible they think that I am.”
“Hey, wait, not irresponsible,” Yoongi tried to negate, holding up his other hand. Shooting him another look, he blows air from his lips and rolls his eyes.
“Was our daughter a surprise? Yes. Was it irresponsible? Mmm, maybe. Do we regret it? Not a chance. Are we secure enough that the weight of having and caring for a child hasn’t broken us? Yes,” He’s slowly starting to get fired up, but when it came to your parents, you only seemed to listen to Yoongi when he spoke up like this, and it wasn’t often, “Surprises happen to married couples all the fucking time, babe. Do people act like they’ve committed a crime? No! How are we any different?”
“We’re not,” You mumble.
“Damn right, we’re not,” Yoongi states, “I’ve been in love with you for eight years, if we want to have babies, we’re going to have babies. They don’t even know us. I’m not going to let two pot-stirring, old, decomposing assholes dictate how you feel about your life anymore.”
“Decompos…” You whisper, then finally laugh. 
“Yeah, now that I’m mad you finally laugh,” Yoongi sighs, groaning straight after, “You’re done with them.”
“Decomposing!” You say louder, falling into his side while you belly laugh. Taking deep breaths, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair trying to relax.
“I’m serious, baby,” He says in a softer tone, “Restraining orders, we’re done with them. They’re not messing with her. Shit, I wanted to do this years ago so they’d stop messing with you.” 
Hearing the sincerity in his voice makes you calm down. The two of you share a look, a deciding look, one that you nod in agreement to confirm. He’d move mountains for his girl, you’re positive that he’d catch a felony without thinking twice if it meant he was protecting her.
“I’m sure they only sent it to mess with me,” You offer to calm his nerves about his daughter, “But, yeah. I’m done. I’ve been done. A year ago was the last time I even tried anyway, so, how fitting that we end it around the same occasion.” Tilting your head side to side a bit, you sarcastically shake your hand in his to show some sort of celebration.
“I am sorry it happened though,” Yoongi whispers. Shrugging once more, you look in his eyes and smile.
“At this point I’m usually not affected like this, I don’t know why this got to me,” You say, glancing around the room, “I should’ve just thrown it away.” Yoongi presses his lips together in a smile.
“I know why,” He says, getting your attention back, “‘Cause you're a badass mom,” He repeats himself now that you actually hear him, “And you care about that girl more than I’ve seen you care about anything else in this world.” 
“I do,” You barely say, “I really do,” A tear pricks at your eye, “I love you just as much, D. Life is so much better because of you.” Blinking away tears that welled in his own eyes, Yoongi smiles as he leans over to give you a few short, sweet kisses.
“Hey! Am I burning this shit for birthday card, or what?” Jungkook shouts up the stairs.
“Wha!” Your daughter shouts after him, getting you and Yoongi to laugh on each other's lips, “Mama!” She shouts loud and clear, beckoning you to come down the steps.
“You’re wanted,” Yoongi raises his eyebrows cheekily, “She doesn’t yell for me like that.” Giving him a genuine smile, you both stand to your feet after sharing another kiss and emerge from your daughters room together.
Appearing at the top of the stairs, she sees you and shrieks, wiggling around like a worm in Jungkooks arms.
“Ahhh,” He sighs theatrically, “Mrs. Min Yoongi, nice to see you.” Coming down the stairs with Yoongi behind you, you just know that he’s signaling for Jungkook to shut up. It used to rub you the wrong way, being addressed as such before you’re formally married, but, now… It felt like relief.
“Oh, yes,” You nod, holding open your arms for your girl to climb into once you're on the bottom stair, “Get rid of my last name, please.” You laugh, then wrap your arms around your little one who’s cuddled into your chest.
“Really?!” Jungkook looks excited, looking to Yoongi behind you triumphantly.
“Really,” Yoongi confirms with a single nod, officially addressing the end of your affiliation with your parents.
“Koo-hee, ma, ma, ma, Koo-hee, ma, ma, ma…” Your daughter starts to babble in a pattern, making you all look at her. She was laid on your chest over your heart, with a hand on your shoulder messing with your bra strap.
“I love this song,” Jungkook jokes, pumping a fist in the air to the beat she was babbling to. Smiling, you turn to look at Yoongi who was so clearly biting his tongue.
“Say it,” You mutter.
“Protégé!” Yoongi nearly shouts, thrusting his hands out at his sides.
By nine thirty that evening your home was still buzzing with life. Shortly after Jungkook arrived and Yoongi talked you off the ledge, the other five guys showed up one by one. Except Jimin and Taehyung, they came together.
With the ample pairs of hands eager to help out, the party was set up in a half an hour, and your girl was constantly occupied by an uncle who showered her in love. Sticking with a neutral theme- you and Yoongi hated stereotypes- different shades of green were used in the decorations, much like the sage green of your daughters bedroom walls. 
A giant golden balloon in the shape of a number one was tied to the back of her high chair, a wooden one that matched all of the furniture associated with her. You wouldn’t say you were neurotic about her things, but anyone who took a look around your house would say otherwise. Everything matched, everything followed a theme, everything followed a color scheme.
It was no surprise to the guys when they saw her first birthday would be the same.
The first guests arrived when you had taken your daughter upstairs to change, a couple members of the team you were all close with. Putting your girl into a pastel yellow jumper with three brown buttons down the top, and matching sandals, you decide to skip a bow or a headband knowing she’d just rip it out the moment she was downstairs. She looked absolutely adorable, and she surely was the life of the party. 
Throughout the rest of the day people came in and out, stopping by to express their love, or sticking around for a couple of hours to have a good time with good people.
After rounds of food, and a smushed birthday cake courtesy of your one year old who couldn’t wait until the song was over to dig into the dessert, everyone that was left this evening was your little family, six cool uncle’s, and, of course, Sunny.
“Can I turn this off?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, asking you from the arm of the couch he was sitting on across the room. He was gesturing to the speakers mounted to the wall in the living room that had music from a party appropriate Spotify playlist playing. 
Sitting on the edge of the couch with your elbows on your knees and a bright blue maraca in your hand, you give him a small smile and nod. You knew his skin was crawling as soon as you pressed shuffle earlier. Now with all of the other guests gone and just the main crew around, he finally had the courage to ask.
“Here she comes!” Jimin says in a silly voice from the floor in front of the couch. He was sitting criss-cross between Jungkooks legs. The youngest was leaning forward, all of his body weight on top of Jimin with his arms wrapped around his shoulders and his chin nestled into his neck.
They were on the sofa across from you, the one Yoongi was just perched on, giving you a front row seat to the bullshit they tried with all of their might to deny. It came out in places like this, private places. Neither of them were overly touchy-feely if they knew they were on camera, which most of their lives were. Here they were in a safe space, one where they could be themselves.
Their eyes were on your daughter who was standing up on her own, gripping the coffee table with everything she had. Her steps were slow, but she tried her best to teeter closer to the boys, because like you, Jimin had the other blue maraca in his hands. 
“She’s comin’, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook grins, making a face at your baby to encourage her.
“You want this?” Jimin asks, holding up the toy, giving it a shake. The sound that comes from it makes her shriek and bounce her knees, getting the audience around her to laugh.
“I’ve heard her scream more today than I ever have,” Hoseok’s eyes go wide as he nudges your shoulder, sitting right beside you. Sucking in a dramatic breath, you release as you look at him and nod slowly. 
“It’s her favorite thing,” You say in a positive tone, but then cross your eyes to show your sarcasm, and he laughs, “Screaming, and copying you. She picks up on sounds quick, she’ll repeat them back almost perfectly.”
The music paused, making your daughter freeze and look around the room with suspicion. The only thing that could be heard was Sunny’s quiet chatter with Jin and Taehyung on the couch next to the one you and Hobi were on.
“Oh, she likes the music, it stopped,” Hoseok comments softly, tapping you again. Smiling, you nod.
“We always have something playing, she’s a music fien,” You say, and Jungkook agrees.
“She’s gonna be like her dad, I swear,” He says, giving you a teasing look. Dropping your jaw, you can’t away fight the smile that peeks onto your face. You would admit, your daughter being as talented as her father would be pretty awesome.
“She’s going to be whoever she wants to be, Kook,” You say calmly, getting a little smirk from him. He knew the rules, he just liked to push them- he learned that from you.
From the speakers, a beat starts to play causing a small roar to roll through the room out of everyone. A giant smile appears on your daughter's face as she starts to bounce her knees and slap the table with her hands. Taehyung sits forward, out of Sunnys arms, and dances with your girl, making her giggle. His head was bobbing in time with her slaps, and she was eating it up.
“Tee,” She stops to say, lifting a finger, pointing it at him. Taehyung makes a surprised face, acquiring another giggle, and puts his hands over his chest.
“Me?” He shakes his curly black hair around dramatically. Hobi, watching the scene in front of him, reaches for your wrist and squeezes it, making sure you were watching too.
“Tee! TEE!” Your daughter shouts, then resumes her bouncing to the music. Taehyung pouts his bottom lip and looks over at you.
“Tee,” He repeats, “It never gets old.” 
Though there were complications after her birth, your daughter didn’t let it stop her from progressing and hitting every milestone she should be with flying colors, walking, talking, dancing, singing, and making beats apparently. She was tiny, but mighty.
She took her first two steps on her own just a few days ago. Fresh out of the bath, in her diaper, in her room, you and Yoongi were laid down on the floor on opposite sides of the carpet making her crawl back and forth between you. Giggling and babbling like crazy, because you could never get her to shut up, she was having the time of her life. Avoiding bedtime was always a blast- and something that happened often.
Yoongi was the one to pull her up to her feet, making her stand on her own for a few seconds assuming she’d plop down to her bottom like she usually would. However, your little powerhouse never let you know her next move, and she barrelled forward on her feet twice before she nearly toppled over. Yoongi lunged forward to catch her, mouth agape, staring at you in shock.
Profanities were shouted that made your daughter cackle as she shoved her fingers in her mouth. With tears welling in your eyes, you crawled over to their side and you praised her together, cursing yourself for not getting it on video. Laying in her fathers lap, gnawing happily on her thumbs, her eyes were full of utter love as she watched Yoongi kiss you on the cheek, and the two of you share laughs together.
“Do I know this song?” Jimin asked the collective, glancing around at everyone in the dimly lit living room. Taking a second to listen, there were a couple vague answers thrown out, but Namjoon was ready to start a discussion over it. That was until your daughter let go of the table and plopped down on her bottom, making everyone react with a playful sound.
“Whoops!” Came from Hobi, and a, “That hurt,” Came from Jimin.
“Oh, no, she doesn’t care,” You say with zero reaction to your daughter toppling over. Your expression didn’t even change, your daughter was like Rocky, no matter how many times she’s fallen over or scared herself, she would get right back up again. “I think the first time she fell while trying to walk, she laughed at herself,” You smile at her as she looks over at you from the floor, “Talking about you, you tiny psycho. She’s fearless.” 
The group fell into a discussion regarding Jungkook, and how he compared to your daredevil of a child. When Yoongi stepped back into the room, Jin was quick to crack a paternity test joke, one that Yoongi laughed at. Spotting your daughter crawling on the floor toward Taehyung, Yoongi swooped around the couches and scooped her up, suffocating her with kisses to her cheeks.
“Boys… Sunny,” He gave your best friend a sweet smile, “This is mine.” He flashes them a gummy smile and squishes your girl's cheek against his, giving them a clear side by side of how she was his little twin. Her feet started to kick to the beat of the music, another indication that she was Yoongi’s.
“Wait, baby, what is this song?” You ask him in a hushed voice, letting your friends continue their jokes. Yoongi’s smile is smug for half a second until he gives your daughter a look, then holds her out to you. “I swear I’ve heard this before, is this new?”
“Not new,” He huffs, and you take your girl from him, “This song? It’s how you got that,” He winks, pointing to the baby bouncing on your knee. Feeling your cheeks turn pink, you turn your chin to see if anyone heard what he said, and without a doubt, they all heard him.
“Gross,” Jimin sneers with a grin.
“See, I wish you didn’t say that, I hate it now,” Namjoon says so calmly that it makes Sunny and Jin cackle. 
“Wait,” Taehyung speaks up, “What’d he say?” Looking at Sunny, he listens as she gives him the play by play, then when it clicks he gasps, “This is your sex song?!” Another round of laughter rips through the room. 
On your lap, your daughter copies the gasp she heard while she puts her left thumb in her mouth. Yoongi, who’s wearing a wicked grin, shakes his head shamefully and sits back down on the arm of the couch next to Jimin and Jungkook. The two boys, still tangled up around one another, were cracking jokes left and right mostly about the days you and Yoongi used to have.
“Oh, we wouldn’t find you guys for HOURS!” Jimin exclaims, holding onto Jungkook’s arms tight, “Even when we’re about to go onstage it’s… Uh oh, where’s Suga, where is he?”
“And we’d know EXACTLY where you were!” Jungkook answers the questions himself, swatting an arm at Yoongi’s legs. 
The volume in the room grew louder, Sunny now antagonizing the boys with more stories about overheard phone calls and times when the two of you would have to travel back and forth from the group. Trying your best to counteract and defend, the blush of your cheeks wasn’t doing a thing to help your case. You and Yoongi were helpless when they came at you guys like this, it was undeniable. 
“Maaa,” Was sung softly from your lap, your baby girl curling up into a ball against your stomach. Looking down at her, you smile and tilt your chin. Her eyes were getting heavier with each passing minute, the noise in the room not affecting her tiredness. She was used to falling asleep around the buzz, it was almost a regular thing for her since being able to travel way back in Vegas.
“My baaaby,” You sing back, lifting a hand to squish her cheeks together, “Are you sleepy?” You ask, raising your brows. Your daughter doesn’t babble back to you like she normally would, instead she keeps sucking on her thumb, each blink she takes getting longer and longer. 
From the corner of your eye you can see Yoongi watching you, his head having tilted a bit when yours did. A bout of laughter sounds through the room, Tahyung must’ve opened his mouth again, and the noise still had zero effect, she didn’t even jump. Giving your fiance a look, you smirk.
“Miss FOMO needs to go to bed,” You say quietly. Yoongi looks surprised, rising to his feet to come to your side.
“Really? With Jungkook in the room?” He jokes, and reaches down to scoop her up. Within seconds she’s laying her head down on her fathers shoulder and gripping the collar of his shirt with a tiny fist.  The other is wrapped around his back, holding on tight. It was like she knew which shoulder was the bad one, she always wanted to lay on the left, and cuddle with him there.
Adjusting the legs of her jumper, you tap her bottom and smile at Yoongi, unknowingly grabbing the attention of everyone in the living room.
“Aw, birthday girl leaving us?” Sunny asks.
“Wait, don’t go, let me kiss her,” Jungkook says in a hurry, jumping to his feet. He nearly trips over Jimin, about to land headfirst on the coffee table as he rushes over to Yoongi to say some quiet words to your daughter who gave him the biggest smile.
“Yeah,” You fake pout, meeting all of their eyes, “I’m surprised, she can usually party all night.”
“Sometimes we’ll be up until like two in the morning,” Yoongi agrees with you, rolling his eyes, “It’s just been a long day, right?” He says to your girl, kissing her on the cheek.
“Ugh,” Sunny groans, making a face like she was in pain, “It’s too cute,” She says, looking over at you, “Make it stop, please.” Laughing with a breath, you rub Yoongi’s back and nod.
“Come on,” You say just for him, and start toward the stairs. There’s a chorus of sweet goodbyes that follows you to the doorway.
“Want me to have a drink ready for you when you come down?” Sunny calls after you. Whipping around with wide eyes and a silly smile, you nod maniacally and she points at you with confirmation.
Yoongi changed her, Yoongi dressed her, but Yoongi let you feed her and put her in her crib. That was the nighttime routine, you were always the one to feed her. 
She never latched in the hospital back when she was born, so there wasn’t a need for tricky transitions from breastmilk to formula, or other forms of feeding her… But, Yoongi knew how much it meant to you to have that kind of bond with her, it was hard when she couldn’t, and almost refused to try to breastfeed. So he lets you give her her bottles, almost every time.
In the dark with her door cracked open, you could hear the low chatter of your friends and the pulse of the music playing, now something off of Hoseok’s new album. It was like it was a lullaby for her because it didn’t even take ten minutes to rock her to sleep. 
“Oh, she’s exhausted,” Yoongi whispers, pinned to your side as you lay her down on the pale peach sheets, covering her with a small, thin blanket gifted to her from Jungkook for her birthday last year. It was her favorite blanket.
Turning your head to look at him, you sigh. Your eyes flicker to his lips, and like a magnet, yours were drawn to him in seconds. Facing him, you slip your arms around his shoulders and take a deep breath, releasing it when your lips part. Yoongi lifts his chin to kiss your forehead as you lower your head with your eyes shut.
“Can we just go to our room,” You whisper, and he laughs, “She’ll be our excuse, we can be quick, they’ll never know.” Yoongi brings a finger beneath your jaw and lifts it so your eye level with him.
“They’ll know,” His tone is flat, making you laugh this time, “They always know.” Sighing heavily, you gaze at him happily, feeling incredibly grateful in this moment to be blessed with a fiance unlike any other, and to share a little mini that was each half of you. 
His eyes are full of just as much love as he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose, and when he opens his mouth to speak, you think it’s going to be something sweet. Instead, it’s something that nearly makes you howl with laughter.
“When are Jungkook and Jimin gonna cut the bullshit?” He asks with utter seriousness. Biting down on your bottom lip as you hold in the sound you’d like to make, you shake your head.
“I thought the same thing,” You whisper, your shoulders bouncing, “Maybe if we get them drunk they’ll crack.” Narrowing your eyes with suspicion, Yoongi’s widen with a smile.
“It’s Kook’s birthday,” He whispers back, “Let’s go get them obliterated, I need them to say something.” 
For another two and a half hours your friends stayed and made absolute fools of themselves. Your daughter's room was right above the kitchen, so the party was contained to the living room, the space turning into a mess the moment everyone was two drinks deep. 
Ever since Vegas when you told Sunny you never drank in front of your little one, everybody started to follow that rule out of respect for you and Yoongi. Drinks were had once she was asleep, or when she wasn’t around attending an event with you, so once your feet hit the hardwood in front of the steps, Sunny was shoving a glass of wine into your hands.
For a while you were entertained by Hobi and Jungkook, the two of them dancing to the songs Yoongi was playing. He was playing BTS on purpose, tricking them into doing choreography, old and new, depriving Jungkook the satisfaction of performing That That for everybody.
Sitting on his lap, tucked into his chest with a drink in your hand, his arms were wrapped around you so you had a clear view of his phone screen. Scrolling through the group's discography, you tapped on Dark & Wild and played War of Hormone, cutting off the modest Permission to Dance choreo. Both boys froze and snapped their heads to glare at you with utmost shock.
“NO!” Jungkook shouts, twisting his eyebrows together as he glances around the room to study the music. He was still holding the pose from where he was interrupted.
“Come on, Golden Maknae!” You giggle, and with his smile he pulls a look of worry.
“I’m drunk!” He argues, turning to Hoseok who was only walking through the dance, “See! It’s old, he doesn’t remember it either!” Gesturing to his dance captain wildly, Jungkook’s eyes boggle toward you.
“Ah!” Jimin and Taehyung both grumble from the floor, leaping onto their feet. Hurrying behind the two struggling to piece together old memories, the best friends sing along and start dancing perfectly.
“How can you forget!?” Jimin says to Jungkook, glaring at him. The youngest eyes him up and down, not even hiding the fact that he just checked him out.
“I don’t,” Jungkook pouts, bouncing his knees once in protest. Jimin shakes his head as he dances, grooving closer to the boy in front of him, teasing him a bit.
“Come on birthday boy,” Jimin winks, reaching his hands out to tickle his sides. Stumbling backward, Jungkook laughs and pushes his hands away. Like it was a cue to get away, Taehyung stops his dancing and grabs Hoseok’s arms, tugging him to the couch so the other two boys were the focus.
“Here we go,” Jin sighs, putting a hand on Sunny’s thigh. She was still nestled into his side, having been there nearly all day. Looking at them over your shoulder, you smile.
“It’s gonna happen,” You mouth, and she grins.
“You’re going to allow this?” Namjoon asks Taehyung, looking at him over top of Hobi’s head. The two had toppled onto the couch next to him, watching the boys eagerly. It was like their superbowl. Taehyung scowls at him.
“‘Course,” He says quietly. No one wanted to disturb the two who were in the middle of a fist fight right now. “They’re made for each other.”
His words make you smile. You’ve heard that one before.
A couple of minutes roll by with Jungkook and Jimin messing around with one another. It took them some time to realize the room had grown quiet and that they were being watched. They noticed when Jimin was holding behind Kook’s head with his fingers knitted in his hair. Jungkook had his arms lazily around Jimin’s waist as they peered to the side at the audience taking them in. You can only imagine the way everyone was gazing at them, waiting with anticipation for it to go down.
Not a word was shared, nor was there a change of expression. You were the last one that Jungkook looked at, and when he saw your tiny smile and hopeful eyes, he knew. 
They turned to one another at the same time, closed the air between their bodies and, finally, kissed each other.
Anyone else would've thought it literally was the superbowl with the way every single one of you cheered. Arms were thrown in the air, drinks were spilled, it was like celebrating the end of a war. 
Jungkook wrapped his arms around Jimin's waist tighter, towering over the boy, tipping him backward as they kissed before parting with a smile that was miles wide. Jimin, laughing like crazy, placed his hands to either side of Kook’s face and shook his head slowly. He bit his lip and looked over at all of you going crazy. 
“You guys are cute,” He says, taking a deep breath turning back to Jungkook who was starting to laugh, “They think that’s the first one.”
“What!” Comes out of everyone’s mouth, and the happy cheering goes sarcastically sour. Taehyung however was wearing a devious grin, looking at his friends with glee.
“You knew this?” Jin shrieks, and Sunny shouts something of sort. Hobi pushes Taehyung off of him and joins in Sunny’s shouting while Namjoon looks over to you and Yoongi with wide eyes.
As chaos ensues, there’s a sound from the baby monitor on the coffee table that makes your heart sink.
“Fuck,” You mutter, sitting forward to grab it. Leaning back on Yoongi’s chest, laying your head against his cheek, you bring the monitor up to your ear and hear your baby whining. Peeking at the screen, you can see she’s kicking her legs and rubbing her face with her hands. 
“I’ll get it,” Yoongi says to you. Taking the monitor out of your hands, Yoongi scoops you off his lap as he stands to his feet and plops you on the couch where he was just sitting, dropping the monitor back on your lap.
“You sure?” You ask, crinkling your brow, subtle guilt stirring in your chest. Lowering his, he leans over and kisses you quickly.
“Yes,” He whispers, then gestures to the glass in your hand insinuating he knew he needed to do this, “Make sure Hobi and Jin don’t murder Tae.” 
It’s impossible for you to focus on anything else, though. The moment your fiance is upstairs you’re all ears listening to him talk to your daughter with the sweetest tone. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching him take her out of the crib and wander around the room as he bounces her to lull her back to sleep. He glances at the tiny camera a couple of times, and in the tiny black and white screen you can see him grow a smug smile. Though he couldn’t see you, he knew you were watching him.
Pressing kisses to her cheek once she’s back to sleep, he lays her down slowly, afraid to wake her, and once she’s out of his arms he leans toward the camera and gives you a goofy smile.
“Creeper,” He says, then laughs at himself, making you chuckle, “I love you,” He blows you a kiss, then his voice lowers to a dangerous tone, one that could lead to you make another one of what he just put back to sleep, “Sneak up here.”
It was your daughter's birthday, Jungkook's birthday even, but you were about to be celebrating like it was your own.
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@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place
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yoonjinsgirl · 7 months
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Heyaaaa guys!!! I'm here with chapter - 3 to my series, I'm so sorry for the delay but my eye infection wasn't getting better so i couldn't do anything, i was advised not to use mobile phones or laptop, once again I'm really sorry for delay!🥲💜
checkout series previous chapters: 1💌 & 2💌
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Yoongi x fem!Reader
Summary: you wake up one day only to realize it's 2026 already & to your biggest shock you are not in your bedroom, not in your house! You try to wake yourself up from the dream! But is it really a dream or the truth of your life?
Genre: idol au, mirror world au, fluff, suggestive.
Taglist: Open
Updates: after every 4 days.
Warnings: not something that could make sense irl, an au concept, it could be dangerously delulu and fluff ofcourse! Could be a little bit suggestive. please note all my writings are fictional and has nothing irl to do with any idol/person.
A/N: this fic also feature hobi and his girl "I'm naming hobi's girl as my hobii biased bestie*. We obviously do have bangtan featuring and also a cameo of jihoon aka woozi 💜
I'm just an amateur, I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Please give your precious feedbacks, It would mean alot to me!!
Request are open & also highly welcomed and appreciated! check my other works until now here❤️‍🩹 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡^·ᴗ·^♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've imagined this all night and every day!💕
Chapter-3
Before you could move out of yoongi's lap or anything, his phone buzzes and you both are taken out of your little dreaming world, as soon as he answers, he puts it on speaker, and you immediately recognize the owner of the voice, it's hobi, the man whom you've always considered your sunshine and yoongi's actual soulmate tbh, and who wouldn't afterall everybody loves SoPe.
"Oooo hyungg what took you so long to pick up the phone? Where are you rightnow? Why is y/n also not picking her calls?? Hyung? Are you there?" Hobiii showered dozens of questions as soon call was answered. You chuckled a little while yoongi made his usual annoyed but i love you so it's okay face, "yahhhh hobahhh have some patience! If you've reached the venue early i want to tell you honestly it will still take us 30mins to reach! And why were you calling y/n? Her phone is in the car anyways!".
You can hear hobi's typical laugh over phone and your face instantly brightens up hearing him laughing, and forms into a big smile, "mwooyaa" you hear yoongi asking him dramatically to what is it? Why did he laugh so much?
"Jajajaja hyung i can't believe you would get so jealous over such a little thing, but for your mental peace let me tell you that wasn't me calling your her, it was my love! her bestfriend calling her, i hope you aren't jealous of my lovely girlfriend ", he replied a now flustered yoongi, only if hobi could see yoongi's face, he had gone crazy laughing looking at how cuteee he looked right now.
"Aishhh yaaahh you guys are too much! I'm not jealous okay! I just asked!" yoongi replied "Only if you say so hyung!" Hobii said still laughing a little, while you just enjoyed listening to their conversation and hobi continued, "so hyung we were calling you guys to ask if can I bring my girl along with me to lunch.. actually i was quite hesitant as i couldn't confirm with any of you, actually i couldn't ask you guys since it's almost first time I'm officially bringing her along with me to meet everyone. But at the same time it's your 1 year anniversary too, and we all will officially meet y/n properly for the first time, because all this time it has only been on voice calls and video calls or short hi! hello! in person. so, jagi and i both were kind of hesitant, so i.."
"I don't get it hobaah why are we acting as if we aren't friends and family, since what more than 13 years now! Ofcourse you can bring her, you should know you both are friends to us, i didn't expect you going so formal over this, like c'mon so because now we have partners so, are we no more soulmates hobahhh?".
Before anyone could say anything you end up laughing at how yoongi could he dramatic AF! And you say "aishh so dramatic you guys! Cut this out hobii please bring hobisrii with you, I'll be more than happy"
"y/niee thank you so much because i wasn't liking to leave her alone and she would keep budging me to not let me ask any of you, since the day you invited members!"
"hobi my friend is definitely someone who cares about everyone's feeling a little too much over her happiness so don't mind her, she's too sweet! we will get going now or else we will get late for sure, you guys too join us soon" you look at yoongi who is looking at you lovingly and he nods at you agreeing with you and you continue "we will see you guys soon! See you hobii, ask hobisrii to give me a call if she has anything in her mind, I'll keep my phone in my reach"
"thank you y/nssi, you two drive safely, bye hyung bye both of you!".
With this the call ends and you look up to yoongi, you are still in his lap, you suddenly feel embarrassed and try to get up and yoongi immediately tightens his grip around you and you catch his collar to balance yourself, "yoonieee you will get tired and get leg cramp yoon let me get u.." "shushhhhh bby you think too much, your man is strong enough to carry his love forever hmnn, besides i love the idea of being close to you all the time" with that he instantly pulls you into a kiss, soft and slow, showing how much he loves you and how much he longs for you to always be close to him. You are taken back my his sudden action but eventually melt into his touch and slowly respond to his kiss, you could feel him smiling throughout kiss, he slowly pulls out attaching your both heads together "y/niee always know no matter even if i had to stay away from you because of my schedules my heart was truly longing for you!...to have one day with my girl! with my love! with you! So no sooner I'm in any plan to let go any chance of being close with you". All you do is nod a little while looking down shyly hiding you flushed cheeks.
After few mins he finally pulls off, "so y/nieeee i swear we can still go home and cancel this plan you know"
"aishhh yoons noo c'mon get up, we are going now, imagine how much they all will tease you if we will reach late there, or do you actually want them to tease you, maybe you lowkey enjoy tha.." before you could even complete your sentence he gets up holding your hands and before you know you are already getting out of his studio, "only if I had got reminded of how much they would tease me i swear y/n i would have hurried up" he says as you both walk out of hybe's building walking towards the parking, all you do is giggle at yoongi's reaction to the idea of his members teasing him. Not that you don't know that everyone in bangtan is more then family and they love teasing each other at every chance they could grab and that his maknae's are gonna enjoy annoying him by teasing him a little too much.
You both get in his car and he starts driving towards the restaurant you both are supposed to meet the members, although you're slightly terrified and don't know how the members would react to you or how would your bestfriend react to you, but only thing you know right now is that you can't anyone doubt you for your own safety reasons also you definitely don't want to hurt any of them by any means, what if they are not the one's from your world but that's not fair to act biased against them. Also you would never be able to bear watching them getting hurt! You should maybe ask your heart to get it's act together and to not go crazy around yoongi or most importantly hold itself while you meet the bangtan.
Before you know you are already infront a huge glass building. And you immediately recognize it as it looked similar to 'josun palace', to what you thought you had been going to have lunch at a restaurant but boy you were wrong! this is fuking expensive and fancy! you immediately look at yoongi expecting him to say something, but he simply smiles and gets out of car and walks to your side and stretches his hands towards you to come out.
"So bby did you liked the place! I hope it's your style"
"Yoonieee i love it but trust me i don't have a expensive taste nor i love spending too much! I love sweet and cozy restaurants, For me only your love and your feelings matters, but I'm flattered yoongs!"
"I knew you had say so but it's good to sometimes go over the top and pamper ourselves besides.. you, my queen deserve all the royalty!". He says as he laces his hands around your waist and you both walk in, where the hotel staff welcomes you both and guides you towards the booked place in the grand hotel. You smile thinking how this all is too good to be true! How this is all you had imagined all day and everyday to happen, even if its all just for one day! Looks like god is kind of fulfilling your wish, maybe you shouldn't act awkward or overthink because no matter what you can't escape from what you've got yourself into. All you need to do is act what you had always imagined you would do in any of situations you would face and nothing will go wrong! Atleast that is what woozi had told you to do.
A gentle squeeze from yoongi brings you back to reality, "what are you thinking y/nieee, I'm sure boys are gonna love you! You have been in touch with them via video calls and calls so they know you, relax hmn!" You nod to him while giving him a reassuring smile, thinking how lovable yoongi could be. As you enter the booked area you suddenly feel a warm hug and yoongi gently lets you slide, and you hear others screaming "yahhh aishh jjungkookah, you brat! don't scare her away like that!"
"Y/nieeee I was so excited to meet you! Hehe i didn't mean to scare you" that's when he pulls you out from hug and you realize it was jungkook! omggg is this for real you think! You've always took ggukie as your bestfriend and you always got those bestfriend broo vibes from him and how you had always find relatable to you.
"Aniya don't worry ggukie this is how i had thought you had greet me" you said smiling widely hoping he feels the same vibe, "yahhhh jinjja! you both! how could forget to include me in your hug! You both betrayers'' you see taehyung approaching you both with his tata mic face and you chuckle, and then three of you share a short yet a sweet hug! Although you felt it awkward in the beginning but as expected they all are loving angels, who always made you feel loved.. the way you are, small tears slide away your cheeks "y/nieee why are you crying" yoongi and rest of members immediately coming towards you to check on you, "you immediately wipe the tears away and smile towards them, "guys calm down! I'm alright and fine, I'm just overwhelmed with the amount of loved and welcomed I felt!".
"Yahh aishh you two i had told you not to be over dramatic! And look at this hyung the speed he ran towards y/nieeee was faster then his rap!"
"Yahhh jiminaahh I'm offended"
"Look at this unromantic guy, if it was me i had took it as a compliment! Especially if my gf was as pretty as cute and as sensible as y/nieee!" Jimin replied all sassy to yoongi, as he came towards you giving a sweet side hug and tissue to wipe off your tears. "Mimi you love yoongs so much don't you! That's why you always keep bickering with him" you said while controlling you laugh.
"that's my girl" yoongi immediately screamed while mouthing a little 'i love you', but you being you decided to get playful, "thank you yoongs! but i know that just like jiminiee loves you! You too love him back because ain't jimin your favorite bickering partner" you reply him, gaining laugh from Jin who had just entered the place, and he pats your back and his gives you his cutest signature wink at which you totally melt and your heart goes all awww!
"This one here, she truly is my friend!" Jin said while pointing towards you. "You guys just made fool of yourself! Especially you yoongichii" he says while still laughing with you.
You see yoongi freezed in his place and namjoon giving you a what the heck look and you automatically feel guilty and rush towards him "yoongi..i..i.. i.. trust me i didn't mean to hurt you yoon I was just being playfu.." before you complete your sentence joon immediately starts laughing uncontrollably,
"yahhh namjoonahhh i trusted you"
"I'm sorry hyung but look at you making that sulky face, besides poor y/n she totally feel for your act! I tell you y/n never underestimate this hyung! he can be extremly playful and dramatic" he said.
Only then you understood yoongi was just acting, "I'm sorry bby i didn't thought you had get serious, don't worry love, you know i love it so much when you mix in with all of them and be playful all laughing and giggling."
"It's okay yoons not like you did mean to make it all serious, and i love you too! You say.
"Omg did you notice that?"
"obviously i did yoongs lol, even in a room full of people, my eyes are always stuck on you yoongles".
"AWWW look at our sweet sugary lovebirds" all of the members say together.
"Okay! Okay! guys lets get settled first" yoongi says while changing the topic, "wait ! wait !wait ! guys'' joon says as he counts all of them, "where is he? I mean where is he?"
"Namjoonahh still the same question, refresh and rephrase your question and try once again, okayyy so gooo now" jin says laughing, "jinniee" you say as you playful hit him while laughing a little yourself. "Yahh jinn hyung don't spoil my dongsaeng, look at namjooniee hyung he is serious!" Jungkook said.
"Yes and I'm seriously allergic to serious people" and once again you both laugh as members try to suppress their laugh.
"Hyung I mean where is Hobahh? He was supposed to reach earlier than us, atleast that is what he claimed to me yesterday!" Joon said only to be greeted with hobii's laugh, "my brooo I'm sorry for my fault, but we got late!" He said.
"WE? WHO WE?" everyone in the room leaving you and yoongi screamed, as you already knew he was bringing your bestfriend.. his girl along with him.
"Bababababaaaabaa.. Tadaaaaa..." hobiii said and moved away from the spot he was standing. And as soon as he moved everyone including you saw your bestfriend, who looked looked absolutely gorgeous and a little bit shy and awkward meeting everyone on short notice.
Soon you made a move and went forward greeting her.
"OMO OMO OMONAA! OMFL bae you look drop dead gorgeous!" "Omgggg Stoppppp hun! look at you looking all pretty and stunning" she replied smiling and blushing to your compliment. Meanwhile hobi went towards yoongi and gave him quick hug "yooo yoongi hyung! You look so handsome! Happy anniversary my brooo" "thank you hobahh! You look cool too" yoongi said, you were watching them in awe of how even here hobi had a certain effect on yoongi.
"Jweehope don't you think we need some introduction here!" Jin asked hobi to introduce everyone with harshitha.
"Oh ye ye hyung ofcourse" Hobi replied walking towards you both and yoongi pulling you gently towards him, his hand laced on your waist as if you were his handbag and you were supposed to be next to him. You blushed slightly.
"Everyone this is my girl! My love! Harshitha!" And jagi these are my brothers, my family, my friends." Hobi said as he lovingly introduced her while holding her hand and never leaving her not even for a second.
"So you guys have always heard about her from me and sometimes even meet her via video calls, whenever you all came in between of our video calls" hobi said chuckling slightly.
Everyone greeted her & she happily greeted them back. And soon after all of you settled down the table, laughing and smiling and chattering on something or other.
A cake was specially brought in to celebrate the 1 one year of love, and you and yoongi feed cake to eachother, while everyone cheered and congratulated you both and everyone clicked some happy photos.
And in middle of all yoongi took your hand in his palm and looked into your eyes and softly murmured "I love you y/n and i promise to cherish you always"
"I love you too yoongi, i promise to love you no matter what" you said replying him, you could feel your heart beating loud and you were pretty sure that yoongi could hear it. Deep down you were cursing your heart for not listening to your pleadings and going crazy whenever yoongi was near you. It was like you heart won't listen to you anymore.
Soon food arrived and everyone again settled down on their seats as food was getting served, everyone noticed how you were served separately and those dishes looked different, before you yourself could understand any of that, jungkook who was sitting next to you, couldn't control his curiosity and asked, "yahhh y/niee is it really important to diet today as well c'mon" jungkook said while whining cutely, you could exactly see why everyone calls him baby star candy.
"Anieyo jjungkookah she isn't dieting silly, she's is vegetarian! That's why I've ordered dishes separately for her and according to her taste" yoongi corrected the younger one even before you could say anything. You smiled widely at yoongi who was sitting next to you on your right as you absolutely loved how he took care of you even without your knowledge. No matter how hard you tried you kept falling for this man.
"See and you claim her as you dongsaeng but I knew it before had, that's why I should've get to sit with her and not you" taehyung teased jungkook, "then why didn't you answered before hyung huhhh, don't act cool hyung" and they kept bickering while everyone else laughed, watching their maknae still being the same and not changing a bit.
Meanwhile you wonder how this all you could've asked for and right now you are living it all in the moment, everything looks perfect and everything feels right, next thing you know you fear what's going to come next because this is not permanent after all!
To be continued...
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I know guys this time it took so long for me to upload the next chapter, and I made you all wait so long but trust me guys, I'm still recovering and I'm really sorry everyone!💝
stay tuned and please look forward to next part, as I'd promise I'll update next chapter within 3/4 days and this time on time guys.💕
also if anyone wants to get tagged, in my taglist for this series along with my other work is open guys, please comment down and I'll make sure to tag you.💜
As I always say, REQUEST ARE OPEN!!!💌
Categories I write for are: imagines/reaction, scenarios, thoughts, text post, drabbles and timestamps.
So if you've requests pls go on and submit it! I'll be happy to write one.💜
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wildestdreamsblog · 4 months
Text
Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2
Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)
Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.
Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3
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“Am I that hopeless?”
“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“
You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.
However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.
“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“
“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”
“I don’t understand-“
“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.
That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.
Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”
“I’m not thanking you-“
Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.
The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.
Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.
Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.
 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 
Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.
You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.
“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”
You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-
Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 
The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.
Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.
Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.
Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.
And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.
“Don’t drink that!”
Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.
Oh heavens, no.
He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!
Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.
“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.
“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.
“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”
Little one???
 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”
Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”
Was that…an invitation?!
You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”
“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.
“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”
He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.
This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.
You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.
“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“
His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”
Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“
He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”
“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“
“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”
Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!
“I-“
“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“
“But hyung, you already have one-“
“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.
“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.
“Where are you going!”
“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”
Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”
You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.
“So, they drank it?”
“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”
You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”
“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”
“Well, honey, how did they act?”
“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”
She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“
“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”
“What do you mean?!”
“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“
You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.
Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).
You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.
You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.
Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!
You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.
Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!
Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.
Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.
V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.
Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.
At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?
You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.
WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!
Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.
Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?
And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.
You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.
A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him
“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.
You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!
“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”
Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”
“You’re so…honest.”
He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!
The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.
“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”
You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.
“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”
What pain?!
Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.
“Daepyonim Kim-“
“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.
You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.
You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.
For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?
It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.
“Good morning, beautiful!”
“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.
“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”
You nodded, “He did…”
He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.
“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.
God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.
“He did what?!”
He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.
“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”
Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.
Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.
You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.
You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.
Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.
“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.
You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.
“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“
“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”
He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”
“What memo?”
He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.
“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“
You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!
You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.
He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.
So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.
He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?
Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.
“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”
You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”
He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”
“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”
“You do?”
He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”
It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!
You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.
The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.
He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.
“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”
“W-why did you cook all these?”
He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”
“You don’t have to do that-“
“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.
How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.
You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”
It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…
---
If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.
The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!
You were just a girl.
And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.
Hi, my little one,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.
Best regards,
CEO Min Yoongi
He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.
He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.
And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.
“Daepyonim Min-“
He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”
Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.
“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”
He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.
“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”
“Excuse me?”
And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."
At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.
Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.
The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.
The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.
“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.
“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.
You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.
A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”
You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.
But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.
The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.
He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”
You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”
He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.
“I shipped them off to Antartica.”
“You what?!”
“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”
My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.
On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.
It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.
Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?
There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.
The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.
The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.
‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’
You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.
“S-sir, are you okay?”
His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.
‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’
“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.
You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.
“Don’t leave me.”
‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’
You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.
“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”
You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.
“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“
“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.
“Y-you know…”
He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”
“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“
The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”
“H-how?”
“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”
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Part 2
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i-am-baechu · 2 months
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♡ Summary: Y/N is just an average student at Seoul University but what she doesn’t know is that the person she’s been watching YouTube videos, streams, and having a crush on is the university heartthrob!
♡ Pairing: Gamer! Heartthrob! Jungkook x reader 
♡ Rating: Explicit (18+) 
♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, enemies to lovers, secret identity, fan girl, pride and prejudice inspired kind of and angst 
♡ Author's note: I think this might be a mini-series! I was also sick :( so sorry for the lack of response/posting!
“Did you see Jungkook!?”
“Of course I did! He was on the Calvin Klein TikTok page. He knew what he was doing.”
L/N Y/N raised her eyebrow at the two girls and continued her way to her class through the hall. She knew Jungkook was popular and it did help that his whole family was practically famous but to be a Calvin Klein model? That’s wild. 
Y/N is a middle-class student who entered Seoul University with a scholarship known as the Kim Family Scholarship. The brightest and the most talented are selected from all the schools in Korea. She wasn’t at the top of her classes nor did she play any instrument. She was just a simple person, so you can imagine her shocked face when she got it. 
Even now Y/N wasn’t spectacular. She got good grades but there was always someone else doing better. She participated in some sports but she wouldn’t call herself an athlete. She would never become one of the elite students and she was okay with that. Too much pressure.
Jeon Jungkook was the opposite of her. One of the top students (ranking in the legendary seven) and the top athlete, he was the guy that everyone wanted and hated. Yes, he was handsome and intelligent but Y/N didn’t really care about that, he was incredibly rude and selfish. She watched him break up with so many girls and had so many rendezvous around the campus that she wondered if any place was clean. A headache really.
She opened the door to her class and smiled when she saw her friend, Lee Taeyong, waiting for her at the back. Taeyong has been her friend since she was in diapers. They’ve been through everything, Y/N’s first period, Taeyong's ankle surgery, and first heart breaks. Best friends forever.
“Tae!” 
He looked up from his notebook and waved at her, “Y/N.”
She ran towards him unaware of the whispers amongst a certain group of people. She went through her bag and handed him a breakfast sandwich, “Mom made breakfast for us. I also have orange juice.”
Taeyong  pushed his glasses and smiled, “Thanks, my mom was wondering if you were coming over tonight?”
She happily nodded and sat down next to him, “of course I am.”
They continued to talk as Jungkook watched with his full attention. Taehyung let out a small laugh and playfully slapped his shoulder, “Why are you staring at Y/N?”
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and looked at him, “She doesn’t belong here.”
“Dude, why are you always on her? She doesn’t even speak to you.”
“She doesn’t take school seriously-”
Namjoon sighed and closed his book, “She passed every test in all her subjects. What more do you want for her?” 
“Not to be her.”
After class, Y/N and Taeyong made their way to the cafeteria. All the students were talking about the legendary seven but all Y/N wanted was her ramen.
The legendary seven, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and shit head (Jeon Jungkook). The top students and the wealthiest, they always mean trouble. She never understood how everyone can talk about them when they have their own problems. She didn’t see a point, she would never have a conversation with them so why would she talk about them? There’s nothing she could add to the conversation. 
Taeyong handed her chopsticks and she smiled, “I’m so excited. I love their ramen.”
“You do know it’s just a convenience store ramen.”
“But it’s free.”
She bowed her head at the worker and happily looked at her ramen making Taeyong laugh, “I want my kimchi fried rice.”
“Share half?”
“If you share half of your ramen.”
“Okay!~.”
The group entered and Jungkook sneered at Y/N who was eating her ramen cheerfully. He glanced at Taeyong who whipped her mouth and he scoffed. Jimin raised his eyebrow and looked at what he was looking at, “what now?”
“Nothing.”
Y/N looked up and saw Jungkook looking at her. She raised her eyebrow and looked behind her to see if there was someone else, but nothing. She looked back and saw Jungkook talking to his friends. She blinked her eyes a couple of times but she just shrugged her shoulders.
“Y/N!~” 
She waved her hand when she saw Kim Yerim running towards her. Yerim or Yeri to her close friends, was Y/N’s other best friend. Yeri met Y/N during high school by accident. Yeri wanted the same drink that Y/N had but sadly it was the last one. Y/N being Y/N bought the drink and gave it to her. Since then, Yeri has been with Y/N. 
Yeri was one of the wealthier students at school. She wasn’t as wealthy as Jungkook but she was wealthy enough to have a good future. Yeri would always make sure Y/N would have new clothes and bags so no one picked on her. Yeri would always defend Y/N against the others, it was sweet but she could take care of herself. 
“Yerrrriii~”
Yeri sat in front of Y/N with her tray, “Did you see the video?”
“Did Kook upload? Did I miss it?”
Yeri let out a small laugh and took her phone, “This is why you should have notifications on for him.” 
She rolled her eyes and saw that he was playing Lethal Company. She smiled to herself and watched for a few seconds before pushing Yeri’s hand, “I need to watch it when I go home.”  
 Taeyong let out a small chuckle, “Don’t you have homework?”
“I can watch and do it…” 
“Not if you get distracted with his voice.”
“Yeriii, leave me alone.” 
Kook is a famous YouTuber/streamer. He had millions of followers and it wasn’t just because he was good at games. So many love him because of his comedy and just his personality in general. Y/N came across him by accident one day and his voice caught her. It was clear that he changed his voice slightly but it still gave her butterflies.
“I was wondering, would you come to a party with me? It’s next week.”
Y/N brother her chopsticks down and raised her eyebrow, "Who's the host?”
“Jimin.”
Y/N scoffed and shook her head, “I don’t want to be there with them. All they do is stare at me and make me feel unwanted here. It’s weird.”
“Really? They're usually really kind…well except Jungkook.”
“Don’t get me started on that shithead. Always glaring at me, what does he have against me? I literally have never talked to him. It’s annoying.” 
Taeyong rubbed her shoulder gently, “don’t get worked up over him. He’s not worth it.”
“I know…it’s just annoying.”
Yeri glanced at Jungkook and the others with a nod, “I would be annoyed. I won’t go then, they don’t deserve our presence.” 
“Irene is having a party. She invited me, we can go to that one.”
Taeyong's eyes lightened up at this and looked at Y/N, “Why didn’t you tell me this!?”
“Because…I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Yeri let out a laugh and pointed her chopsticks at him, “He just wants to see Seulgi.”
“So-So what.”
“It's cute, Tae.” 
Jungkook was on his phone until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Rosé looking at him with a smile. He raised his eyebrow and put his phone down, “What do you want?”
“Is that how you treat your girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend. Now what do you want?”
Rosé sighed and leaned back on the bench, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”
Jungkook let out a laugh, he couldn’t believe what he just heard, “For fucking what?”
“Tonight, I’m going to my cousin's dinner.”
“Why me?”
“Because I told my aunt we were dating and if she finds out I broke up with you she will be sad. I hate seeing her sad.” 
Jungkook turned his attention to her and crossed his arms over his chest, “First of all, I broke up with you. Second of all, since when are you nice?”
Rosé rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Can you just do this for me?”
“Fine. Only once.” 
“Trust me, it’s only going to be once. I can’t stand you.”
Jungkook let out a snicker and nodded his head, “Right back at you, cheater.”
“It’s your fault I cheated on you. You treated me like shit, what did you expect?”
“I treated you like shit? I gave you everything Rosé-”
“If you guys are gonna fight, can you do it outside?”
Jungkook turned to see Yoongi giving him a stern look, making him sigh. He turned to Rosé with an irritated look, “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Ditto.”
Jungkook glared at her until she was out of sight. He turned back and Jin shook his head, “How did you date that?”
“It was a fling…”
Taehyung shook his head and finished off his kimchi, “No you liked her, a lot. Why didn’t you tell us she cheated?”
“It wasn’t worth talking about it…I just didn’t want to talk about her.” 
Jimin nodded his head and gave him a soft smile, “At least you're not together.”
“Yeah…” he glanced at Y/N who was now talking to Jaehyun. His eyes widened to see his friend talking to her. They looked like they were having a good conversation because they kept laughing. Jungkook looked back at Hoseok, “When did they become friends?”
Hoseok glanced at Y/N and then back at Jungkook, “I know Jae has been talking to her since high school.” 
“High school?”
“Yeah, they were friends because of Taeyong. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Jae, can you tell your friend to stop staring at me? It’s annoying.”
Jaehyun turned around and saw Jungkook looking at them. He waved at him and looked back at Y/N, “He’s just weird like that.”
“Eh, are we playing tonight?”
“Yeah, after dinner at Tae’s?”
“Yes sir.”
“See you tonight.”
Y/N watched him leave and she looked back to Yeri who had a smirk, “What?”
“When are you going to fuck him?”
Y/N’s turned into disgust and shook her head, “You're crazy.”  
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚
“Tae, you didn’t tell me your cousin is coming.” 
Y/N let out a loud groan as she dropped on Taeyong’s bed. He sighed and put his book back on his shelf, “Mom just told me she was coming and apparently she's coming with her boyfriend.” 
“She has a boyfriend? I didn’t know that was possible for her.” 
Taeyong let out a laugh and shook his head, “People can change.” 
“I bet he was rich. You know the richer they are, the more likely they want a girl on their arm.” 
Footsteps were coming up the stairs and Y/N to see Taeyong’s mom looking at her with a smile, “Y/N, did you hear who’s coming?” 
Y/N sat up and nodded her head, “Rosé and her boyfriend.” 
Mrs. Lee nodded her head and clapped her hands excitedly, “I’m so happy she found someone.” 
Taeyong nodded his head and sat in his computer chair, “I’m sure he treats her right.” 
“She told me that he’s from a wealthy family.” 
Y/N glanced at Taeyong giving him a “I told you so” look. She looked at Mrs. Lee, nodding her head with a small smirk, “That’s good for her future. I’m sure she’ll have everything figured out.” 
“I sure hope so. Come down and get ready for dinner.” 
They watched the older woman leave the room with a skip in her step and Y/N looked at Taeyong with a frown, “Rosé...didn’t she break up with her boyfriend.”
Taeyong nodded his head and rubbed his forehead, “Knowing Rosé, she has a scheme.”
Y/N shook her head and looked at the ceiling with a frown, “Your mom doesn’t deserve lies.” 
“Trust me, I know. Let’s go and keep her happy.” 
They made their way downstairs but Y/N stopped in the middle when she met with familiar brown eyes. Jungkook looked at her with surprised eyes and they continued to stare at each other but neither of them said a word. He hated her for whatever reason and she hated him for being a shithead. What’s there to say? She glanced down and saw Rosé holding his hand, so this is the boyfriend. She continued to walk down the stairs and walked past Jungkook who continued to stare at her. 
Jungkook was surprised to see her but he didn’t know why, she was always around Taeyong. Tonight seemed different with her appearance. She looked more elegant with her hair down (she only ever wore ponytails or buns to school) and had a black dress on. She was more poised, something that surprised him. He watched her lean towards Taeyong and they both let out a quiet laugh. He wondered if she would ever laugh with him. He shook his head and glanced at Rosé, “Aunty, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.” 
Y/N bit her lip from laughing because it was clear that he was uncomfortable. With the way he visibly stiffened at her touch, he didn’t want to be here. Y/N glanced at Jungkook who was looking at Mrs. Lee. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk towards the kitchen with Taeyong next to her, He probably made her think he liked her and wasn’t expecting to get this far with her. How typical of him. 
Jungkook watched the two leave but he couldn’t help but feel judged by them. Every time Y/N looked at him she would lean towards Taeyong. How could she be judgemental? She’s not the same status, why would she judge him? It should be the opposite, that’s what his mother always taught him. “Judge those who are lower than you and question why they are so low? The answer is they don’t have a good work ethic.” 
When Mrs. Lee turned to walk towards the kitchen, Jungkook ripped his hand out of Rosé’s hand, “I told you don’t touch me.”
“That’s not what you were saying before. My aunty looked happy, that’s good.” The two walked towards the rest of them and Rosé glanced at Jungkook, “Also, stop staring at Y/N. I know she’s pretty but now is not the time.”
Jungkook scoffed and glanced at Y/N and then at Rosé, “What?” 
“Y/N, she’s pretty.”
“Anyone can be pretty but not everybody can be beautiful.” 
Rosé raised her eyebrow and grabbed Jungkook’s hand as she looked up at him, “Are you saying she's pretty?” 
“Let’s sit.” 
Y/N sat next to Taeyong as she ate her chicken. She glared at Jungkook, if people wanted to talk amongst themselves they should do quieter, “Anyone can be pretty.” Who is he? The mirror from Snow White. She wishes he was because then she could just break the glass and be done with it. She stopped listening after that part, if she continued to listen to him she would lose more brain cells. Her phone vibrated in her dress pocket and when no one was paying attention, she brought out her phone. 
Did you see it? Kook is hosting a special event! All you have to do is comment on his post and send him a DM and the lucky winner gets to play with him! 
Y/N’s eyes widened and she tapped Taeyong’s thigh. He looked at her with a curious look and she glanced down. Taeyong eyes landed on the message and he looked back at her, “Are you going to do it”
“Of course I am. This is the only chance I get to speak to him.” 
“I hope you win then.”
“Don’t tell Yeri that.” 
Jungkook was annoyed that Rosé kept touching him but he knew had to be an actor tonight. He smiled at Mrs. Lee who placed more rice on his plate, “Rosé told me that you guys met at the library. That’s really sweet.” 
Lie. They met during a party and he fucked her in a bathroom. Not sweet but he knew Rosé was a good liar. He looked at Mrs. Lee and nodded his head, “She couldn’t reach for a book, I was there to help her.” 
Y/N let out a small laugh and glanced at Taeyong, “He really sucks at lying.” 
“Don’t ruin our show.” 
“You are tall, do you play basketball?”
Jungkook nodded his head and rubbed the back of his neck, “I play basketball, soccer, and baseball.” 
“Oh, wow. All-rounder, good pick Rosé.” 
“Thank you, Aunty.” 
After dinner, Y/N was the first to leave. She was walking out when she saw Jungkook and Rosé come out of the side door. Her eyes widened and she hid in a bush, curiosity was going to kill the cat tonight. 
“Thanks, Jungkook.”
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and pulled her hand out of his, “No problem. Now what do I get out of this?” 
Rosé sighed and rolled her eyes, “What do you want?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
Rosé let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Don’t ask me twice. After how you treated me.” 
Y/N nodded her head and looked at Jungkook, I knew it.
Jungkook scoffed, “You can continue thinking that. I have to go home.” Jungkook turned around and started walking towards his car but stopped when he heard, “Don’t forget what I said about Y/N.”
Jungkook glanced at Rosé and glared at her, “It’s my life. Stay out of it.” 
“Anyone can become beautiful if you give them the chance too.” 
Jungkook unlocked his car and got into it. Y/N watched him drive away and she raised her eyebrow, What the hell was that about? 
Yeri and Y/N sat on Taeyong’s bed with nervous looks. Y/N glanced at her phone and then at Yeri, “You do it first.” 
Yeri shook her head and pointed at Y/N, “You’ve been his fan longer. You do it first.” 
Taeyong rolled his eyes and turned towards them with his book in his lap now, “Just do it. The worst thing that can happen is that he doesn’t respond.” 
“Don’t say that because that means it's going to happen!” 
Y/N sighed but her phone vibrated and she raised her eyebrow, “Jaehyun?” She opened her messages and she smiled to herself. 
You cheated last night, I want a rematch 
It’s not my fault you're a loser! ;p 
I’m the one that showed you the game >:( 
Fine, rematch tonight 
I’ll win this time!!! 
“Are you texting Jaehyun?”
Y/N looked over her phone and nodded her head at Yeri, “Stop with that look. We’re friends.” 
“You can be so much more.”
“Taeyong, can you-”
“No, Y/N. You do it.” 
Y/N sighed and clicked on Kook’s Instagram. He doesn’t really post and when he does it’s just his computer setup or even just his day. There were no pictures of himself but Y/N knows he’s handsome, he has to be. With the way he laughs in his streams and how he goes to cafes, he’s literally the perfect guy for her. 
She sighed and looked up at Yeri, “I’m going to do it.” 
“You're bluffing!” 
“No, I’m doing it. Let’s get it over with.” Y/N clicked on the most recent picture and liked it (something she doesn’t do because it makes her feel shy). Then she clicked the small bubble sending a message, “Event...sorry this is so awkward. Thank you for posting, it makes me happy : ) .” 
Y/N tossed her phone and hid her face in her hands, “I did it! But omg I feel like I’m going to get sick. Yeri you do it.” 
“Oh, I did it yesterday.” 
Y/N removed her hands and glared at her, “We were supposed to do it together!” 
“I lied.” 
Jungkook was in his gamer room and was staring at his DM’s. It wasn’t until his eyes landed on a familiar face. He felt weird but he clicked on her profile ignoring his heart beating faster. “Y/N_Cupcake. How interesting.” He went through her profile and he felt a smile appear but he quickly shook his head. Stop feeling that way towards her. 
Y/N went to get a book from the Library when she heard snickers behind her. She turned her head to see it was Jessica and her goons. They would always bully the scholarship kids because why not? They were sad and just looking for an outlet. She rolled her eyes and continued making her way to the tall building. She ignored the footsteps but couldn’t anymore when one of them grabbed her backpack, pulling her back. 
“Going to the library because you can’t afford the books.” 
“We can easily get the books, makes things easier.”
Y/N nodded her head and gave them a blank look, “I’m sure it does. Having access to books makes things easier, what a privilege you have.” 
Jessica raised her eyebrow and poked at Y/N’s shoulder harshly, “Are you pestering me?” 
“I’m simply agreeing with you. That’s what you want, right? For me to know that you're richer and how I’m beneath you. I’m giving you the attention that is clear you are craving for.” 
“What did-”
“Jessica, at least she knows how to read. You should read the books you can easily buy.” 
Y/N looked over Jessica’s shoulder and she raised her eyebrow to see Jungkook. He stood there in his simple black shirt and his tattoos on full display. She glanced at Jessica and pushed her finger away, “Now, I have to go read. I hope you enjoy the books that you can purchase while I have to go to the dusty library. Oh, I hope there’s someone to save me from the dust.” 
Y/N turned around and started walking away as Jungkook couldn’t help himself to let out a small chuckle. Jungkook looked at Jessica and smirked, “You heard her, she needs someone to save her.” 
He walked past the girls leaving Jessica in shock. She turned towards her friends with a shocked face, “Is Jungkook dating her!?” 
“I’m not sure, the last I heard he was dating Rosé.”
“She's a homewrecker then. Girls, we have a busy day ahead of us.” 
Y/N heard footsteps and turned around with an annoyed look expecting to see Jessica but it turned to confusion, “Jungkook? Are you following me?” 
“I-I wouldn’t say following you.” 
“Then what do you call this? I have never seen you in the library but today of all days you're going.” 
Jungkook nodded his head and put his hands in his pocket, “It’s quiet.”
“Especially when you're alone.” 
“Yes, I agree.” 
She glanced to the side and gave him a small smirk, “Even those who aren’t beautiful would agree with you.” Jungkook's face fell as she let out a small laugh and she turned around but before she left his sight she glanced at him over her shoulder, “When you're talking about someone and they're in the room, next time, be quieter.” 
Y/N continued to walk and she smiled to herself when she heard no footsteps behind her. She continued to walk away as Jungkook watched her leave his sight. He let out a laugh and shook his head, “Full of surprises...” 
Y/N entered the library and she waved at Jaehyun. She happily walked up to him and glanced at all the books, “Big test coming up?” 
“It’s all for biology.”
She looked between the books and at him with a confused look, “I thought you owned these books already? Why are you at the library?” 
“To have the chance to be in your presence.” 
She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Shut up. Did your brother take them?” 
“Yeah, so here I am. What are you here for?” 
“I need to do some research for my literature class.” 
“Boring.”
Y/N glanced out the window and she watched Jungkook talking to Taehynug. She looked back at Jaehyun with an interested look, “Your friends with Jungkook?” 
“I wouldn’t say friends...acquaintances really.”
She raised her eyebrow at this, “Acquaintances? You're a good guy, how could anyone be acquainted with you?” 
Jaehyun let out a small laugh, “He just doesn’t like me because I was talking to Rosé.”
“Talking?”
“I had a project with Rosé and he didn’t like that I was talking to her. He even punched me.��� 
Y/N scoffed at this and shook her head, “He punched you for trying to do homework. How...actually it's exactly how I pictured him to be.” 
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders and let out a laugh, “It’s nothing really. Can I sit with you?”
“As long as you know the ques to talk to me, then yes.”
“Thank god I do then.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。゚
Parties, it wasn’t Y/N’s favorite thing in the world but it did help her get out of the house and out of work. Of course, she loved helping her parents make fried rice but sometimes you just want to get drunk. She smiled at Irene who returned one, Irene was the pretty senior that all the girls wanted to date. Y/N can see why, she was kind and awkward. Adorable. 
Y/N sat on the couch with Taeyong who was drinking his heart out. She frowned at this and rubbed his knee, “I’m sure she's coming. Just be patient.” 
“It’s been too long.”
“Tae, it’s literally been thirty minutes. She’s coming, be patient.” 
Taeyong frowned at her and glanced at her, “Be nice to me.” 
“I am, I’m reassuring you. Liquid courage can help you.” 
Y/N smiled at him and stood up from the couch to get some water. As she made her way, Yeri grabbed her arm, “Did you hear?” 
“What is it?” 
“Jessica has been running her mouth about you.”
Y/N raised her eyebrow and let out a snicker, “About what? My boring life is exciting for her?” 
“It’s not boring. It’s comfortable. She’s saying that you're a homewrecker but she won’t say who the couple is.” 
“Do people believe her? The only man I’ve been around is Taeyong and everyone knows he’s in love with Seulgi…we’ll expect for Seulgi.”
Yeri let out a laugh as Y/N smiled but it dropped when she saw who was in front of her. She glanced at Yeri but Yeri didn’t dare to look at her, “Jungkook? I thought you would be at Jimin’s.” 
Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and looked at Y/N, “I was at Jimin’s but I wanted to come by. Irene asked me to visit her more, so here I am.” 
Y/N nodded her head at him with a blank look, “Here you are.” 
“Y/N, would you like a drink?” 
Y/N glanced at Yeri who shrugged her shoulders. Y/N looked back at Jungkook but kept her blank stare, “Sure. I was already making my way there until you stopped me.” 
“I’m sorry for stopping you. Yeri are coming?”
Yeri shook her head and let go of Y/N, “I’m going to check on Taeyong. Bye~.” 
Y/N waved at Yeri and then looked back at Jungkook, “Irene has had four parties this month but you come today. Are you sure you're not following me?” 
“Would you be flatter?”
“The opposite...let’s get a drink.” 
They walked through the crowd of people and Junkook placed his hand behind her back. She glanced at him over her shoulder but he kept looking straight. She didn’t push his hand away and she didn’t know why she didn’t. It was quiet between the two and she sighed to herself, “No small talk?” 
“What is there to talk about?” 
“I don’t know. You're the one that invited me to get a drink, shouldn’t you make small talk.” 
Jungkook handed her a cup of water and shrugged his shoulders, “What do you want to talk about?” 
“You can talk about the test we had in math or even lunch. Something.” 
“The math test was easy.” 
“It was.”
Y/N took a sip as Jungkook did the same, “Y/N, I saw you talking to Jaehyun.”
She raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Yes, I talk to him once in a while. Why does that bother you?”
“Jaehyun, be careful of him.”
Y/N let out a scoff and took a sip of her water, “Be careful? Shouldn’t I be careful of you?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Jaehyun told me. He told me you punched him for talking to Rosé all because he wanted to do his project.” 
Jungkook raised his eyebrow and turned his whole body towards her. She looked up at him and felt like he was a tower next to her, “And you believe that?” 
“I have no reason not to. Jae would never lie to me.”
Jungkook leaned down until his nose touched hers, “There’s always more to the story. Don’t believe just one side.” 
She looked at his lip ring and then at his brown eyes, “Then tell the other side.” 
“Jungkook! Are you ready!?” 
They turned their heads to see Jimin looking at them with a raised eyebrow. Jungkook let out a small cough and gave her a look that Y/N couldn’t read, “You already passed judgment before knowing my side. Isn’t that wrong of you?” 
“It’s really hard not to when I know your character.” 
“Do you really know me?” 
Y/N’s face dropped and she looked away from his stare, “I know enough.” 
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Bye.” 
She felt him leave but she couldn’t rip her eyes off the white wall. She felt embarrassed to be called out like that. He was right but he makes it really hard to be nice. She glanced where he walked off towards her and saw his eyes were already on hers. She didn’t look away from his intense stare, instead, she encouraged it. 
It’s been a week since Jungkook talked to her and she was feeling uneasy. She hasn’t been talking to Jaehyun and her thoughts have been replaying. “Do you really know me?” He seemed hurt by her assumptions and she was surprised to see it. He was rude to a lot of people but here he was, hurt by her words. Who is she to hurt the rich and powerful Jungkook? It actually made her sick that she was called out for her actions. Ashamed...
Y/N shut off the stove and walked out in the front room of her parents' restaurant. She saw her mother reading a letter and she squinted her eyes, “Omma? What is that?” 
“It’s from the landlord...they want us to close the restaurant.” 
Y/N’s eyes widened and she shook her head, “What? We’ve been paying every month. How can-”
“Someone wants to buy the restaurant...Appa doesn’t have the money to outbid them.”
Y/N frowned and sat next to her mother, “We’ll figure this out. We always figure it out.” 
She heard the door open and she saw Jungkook standing there with his usual outfit. She glanced at her mother and kissed the side of her head. She stood up and went to greet him with a fake smile, “Welcome-”
“Y/N, I want to talk to you.” 
She glanced at her mother and then back at him, “Now is not the time...”
“It’s important.” 
“Jungkook-”
“Did you say Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook?”
Y/N turned around and nodded her head at her mother, “Yes, omma-”
“Why do you want this restaurant?”
Y/N's face broke and she turned her head slowly at him, “You're buying our restaurant?” 
Jungkook looked at Y/N and shook his head, “I-I had no idea it was yours.”
Y/N let out a forced laugh and shook her head, “You're so rich that you want to buy everything in Korea. Out of everything, you buy my home. Do you hate me so much? What have I done to you? Is this payback because I’m friendly with Jae?” 
“Y/N-”
“No...I don’t want to hear it from you. Actually, I don’t ever want to hear from you again. This whole time I felt ashamed for making judgments on you but they were all right. You are selfish, prideful, and just....I can’t even put into words how much I hate you right now. Get out.”
“Y/N, please listen-”
“Out. Now.” Jungkook nodded his head and took one final glance at Y/N before closing the door. She glared at the glass and shook her head, “Of course it was him...” 
She ran into her room and shut her door. Here she was feeling bad for Jungkook, what an idiot. She fell into her bed and turned on her phone to watch one of Kook’s videos, at least then she would be entertained and not sad. Anything to forget today. 
Jungkook slammed the door making Jin look up in worry, “Is everything okay?”
“My dad's buying Y/N restaurant…”
Yoongi raised his eyebrow and glanced at Jimin who shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at Jungkook with a confused look, “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because she hates me…I can’t have her hate me. Not her. Anyone but… her.”
Namjoon stood up and walked towards Jungkook. He placed his hand on his shoulder, “You need to be honest with her and with yourself.”
“Hyung, she hates me…it doesn’t matter how I feel.”
Hoseok stood up and gave him a soft smile, “Yes it does. You can still fix this.”
Jungkook looked at Hoseok and then back at Namjoon, “You’re right. I can fix this.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
“Y/N, I’m sorry for spreading these rumors.” 
Y/N looked at Taeyong who shrugged his shoulders. Y/N was in the library studying with Taeyong when Jessica came to her. Y/N was ready to fight back with whatever she had but it was the opposite, “Thank you?”
Jessica nodded her head and walked out leaving Y/N confused. She glanced down at the table and was confused. She looked at Taeyong with furrowed eyebrows, “Do you think she’s dying?” 
“Y/N, what?” 
“Well, why else would she apologize?” 
“Maybe she felt bad.”
Y/N let out a small chuckle and shook her head, “I don’t think so...It’s Jessica.” 
“That is true but maybe she saw her wrongs.” 
“Did you see Jungkook?”
“Of course I did...He looks so good at practice.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and harshly closed her book, “He gets praised for being an asshole while I get my house stolen because of his selfish desires.” 
“Y/N, I’m sure everything has a reason.”
“Reason or not, he’s still an asshole. I have to go, your cousin wants me to go to a museum with her.” 
Taeyong raised his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, “A museum? With Rosé?” 
“I was surprised too but she said she’ll pay for it and that caught my attention.” 
“What is she planning?” 
“I’ll go find out. I’ll text you later.” 
The museum had a special exhibit for the students. She had never been to this museum but since someone else was paying for it, it was time to get cultured. She saw Rosé looking at a piece of art and she awkwardly walked up to her. Rosé turned around and gave her a smile, “Y/N, you're early.” 
“I had to catch the bus, better early than late with city transportation.” 
Rosé let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “Well, let’s go look around.”
“Sure.” 
They entered the student pieces and Y/N tried her best to focus on the art. It was awkward with Rosé, there was something in the air and she couldn’t decipher what it was. It made her feel nervous and she hated feeling that. She landed on a picture, it was a silhouette of a woman reading in the sunlight with flowers all around. Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could see that she was relaxed and happy. She glanced down to see the name and her eyes widened a bit, In My Dreams by Jeon Jungkook. 
“He knows how to capture a moment doesn’t he...” 
She glanced at Rosé and then back at the picture, “You look relaxed.”
“That’s not me. Can you really not tell who that is?” 
Y/N looked at Rosé and shook her head, “It’s a silhouette. How am I supposed to know?” 
Rosé let out a laugh and shook her head, “It should be called mirror now that you're here.” 
Y/N looked at the picture and she tilted her head, “That can’t be me...Why is your boyfriend taking a picture of me? Is he a pervert?” 
Rosé sighed and glanced at the picture with a small smile, “He took this picture when we broke up...he was looking for his muse and there was you. Reading with the sunlight, it was perfect.” 
“Rosé, why am I here?” 
“Jae isn’t all good...”
Y/N scoffed and looked at Rosé with an annoyed look, “Did Jungkook put you up to this?” 
“No, I saw Jae talking to you and I was worried.” 
“Worried?” 
“Y/N, I cheated on Jungkook with Jae...he promised to love me and only me but Jae left me...”
Y/N frowned at this, “Does that mean Jungkook cheated on you?”
“In a way...there was always one person on his mind. It was never me, I should’ve known but I wanted to hope he could change for me.” 
“That’s horrible of him to do.” 
Rosé let out a laugh and nodded her head, “It is. You want to know who the person was?” 
“It could be Nora, I know she-”
“It was you.” 
Y/N stared at Rosé with a shocked face and then she started laughing, shaking her head, “Probably because he hates me.” 
“The opposite...your scholarship. It’s special you know and Taehyung’s family hands them out.” 
“Yes...why are you bringing this up?” 
“Jungkook read your essay for the scholarship and I think that’s when he fell in love with you.”
“Jungkook, can you read this half?”
Jungkook sighed and leaned back in his chair with an annoyed look. For five hours he’s been helping Taehyung go through these essays. Some were good and some were, and some were funny. He only agreed because he didn’t want to help his dad with paperwork for his work. 
“How much can I read?” 
Taehyung sighed and gave him one essay, “Fine, read this one and you can take a break.”
“Can I play on your computer?”
“I just got it-”
“I can always leave.”
“Fine. Don’t break it or I’ll get yelled at.” 
Jungkook smiled in triumph and took the paper out of his hand. He looked at the paper and saw the name L/N Y/N. Every essay was different, the person could write whatever they wanted. It could be a poem, a story, etc. It just had to showcase how the person’s brain worked. He didn’t think much because so far all the essays were around pages long about their lives and struggles. He wasn’t expecting a poem.
A galaxy with no stars, a map with no direction 
Just a traveler trying to find its safe haven 
“Seek and ye shall find” 
But they never say what will find you
I used to drift away 
Never wanted to stay 
The world was too big for me
But too small for my thoughts 
If I was quiet, I could disappear 
Vanishing from the pain 
Anything to get away 
I hate the lack of control 
But I’m the one to blame 
This nightmare has consumed me 
Everything seems so real 
Even that look in your eyes 
Another day with a new dream 
Steps to enlightenment brightens the way 
But the steps are steep 
Take them one at a time 
If fear paralyzes me then hope is gone  
And this nightmare wins 
There was something with the way the words flowed and it was like he could hear her voice. She was different from all the other essays and he understood how she felt in her poem. He kept rereading the poem and he smiled to himself, it would be dumb to let her go, “I found one.”
“Rosé...why-”
“Jungkook, he tries to be an ass to push people away because he’s scared to lose them. Jae knows this, he likes to toy with him because of it.”
Y/N glanced at the picture and frowned, “I thought they were friends.”
“They were...but Jae knew how to get what he wanted from Jungkook.” Rosé turned towards the picture and frowned, “I knew he was in love with you but I just craved for something...anything really. Jae promised me he would love me and I cheated on Jungkook. I broke him because he trusted me with his secrets and I broke it.”
“Jae...he knew that Jungkook was talking to me. That’s why he wanted to spend time with me, to hurt Jungkook.” 
“When I saw you guys talking in the library, I knew what he was doing and I didn’t want you to become another victim to his game.” 
Y/N looked down at her shoes with shame, “I thought I knew Jungkook and I already had a picture in my head...”
“You knew him through other people but you don’t know him truly. I don’t even know him truly.” 
“I still can’t forgive him for buying my home but I do need to say sorry...” 
Rosé smiled at this and nodded her head, “I can tell you that Jungkook had no say in buying your home. His father makes all the deals but knowing Jungkook he has a plan up his sleeve.” 
Y/N looked up at Rosé with a confused look, “What do you mean?”
“Nothing...we should grab lunch.” 
Y/N sat on Yeri’s bed staring at her Instagram with a blank expression, “Are you sure today is the announcement?” 
Yeri nodded her head and turned to her side to face Y/N, “That’s what his Instagram story said. Maybe you won.”
Y/N scoffed at and lay next to Yeri, “With the way my life is going, I just know I lost.” 
Yeri sighed and looked at her ceiling, “I want you to win because I miss your smile.”
“If I win, I will die from shock.”
“Please not on my sheets, I just washed them.”
Y/N let out a laugh and glanced at Kook’s profile, “how do you think Kook’s personality is?”
“I’m not sure, what about you.”
“I would like to think he’s caring and kind. I bet he’s full of surprises.” 
Just then their phones vibrated and glanced at each other. Yeri smirked at Y/N, “Are you ready to see who won?
“Yeah…whoever you are, I hate you.”
They clicked on the story bubble and Y/N sat straight up in her bed, “Oh my god.”
“Soooo…do you hate yourself?”
That night, Y/N and Yeri watched past videos of Kook. That whole night, Y/N felt her heartbeat and she noticed that Kook felt familiar but she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because she watched him for a while. That’s what she’s telling herself. 
Rosé dragged Y/N and Yeri to the soccer game. Y/N knew why Rosé brought her here and she didn’t know how she felt. She hadn’t seen Jungkook since he was at the restaurant and honestly, it felt like she was seeking out for him. Every time she went to the cafeteria she would hope to catch a glimpse of him but alas nothing. She didn’t know what she wanted to hear from him but she just wanted something from him. 
She watched Jungkook make a goal and she couldn’t stop the smile appearing on her face. Rosé glanced at her and smirked, “You're smiling.” 
“Our team is winning...who wouldn’t be smiling at that?” 
“You because you hate sports but here we are.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and she turned back to be locked on Jungkook, “I have no idea what you're talking about.” 
Jungkook looked into the audience and his eyes landed on Y/N. They both stared at each other until his coach called him and the stare-down was broken. She couldn’t forgive Jungkook for buying her home but deep down, she just wanted him to talk to her. 
After the game, Rosé brought Y/N down to the field and everything felt slow motion. Jungkook walked up to her and Y/N waited for him by the gates. She smiled at him and looked down at her shoes, “Good job at winning.” 
“I felt a boost of confidence when I saw you. You hate sports so it's an honor that you came by.” 
Y/N rolled her eyes and looked up at him with softness, “I saw your picture...it was beautiful.” 
He stiffed and rubbed the back of his head, “You saw that? What do you think?” 
“I like the flowers. It’s peaceful. What does it mean? The title...” 
Jungkook grabbed Y/N’s hand as they stared at each other with softness, “In my dreams, you're there with me with flowers around us. That’s all I want...”
Y/N glanced down at his lips but then at his doe eyes, “I-I...Jungkook.”
“I know...I just needed you to hear it from me.”
She glanced down at his tattooed hand with a frown, “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I judge you wrongly.” 
“It’s okay at least you know me. That’s all I wanted before it was too late...maybe it is too late.” 
Y/N looked up and felt the warmth left her when he removed his hand, “I-”
“Jungkook, the coach wants us!”
Jungkook glanced and nodded his head at his teammate. He looked back at Y/N and gave her one final smile, “I’ll see you later.”
“Yea-Yeah, I’ll see you later.” 
Y/N watched him leave and she couldn’t remove her eyes off of his back. She felt sick to her stomach and all she wanted to do was cry on her pillow. Why is life so complicated?
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
Today was the day that Y/N was going to play a game with Kook. She couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. For years she dreamed about this and it was finally happening. The couple of months have been the worst in her life but now she can forget it for an hour or two. She entered the room for Minecraft (something she thought was strange for him but she ignored it) that Kook sent her. 
She entered the room and she looked at the screen with confusion. She was surrounded by flowers and it looked like someone took out all the trees. It was just flowers until she saw a sign. She walked up to the sign and read it closely, “Y/N, I’m sorry for everything that I have put you through. Please come downstairs.” 
Her mouth dropped, “No fucking way.” She pushed her chair away and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. There was a knock at the door and she knew in hindsight this was pretty suspicious but she knew who it was. She opened the door and he stood there looking at her with his doe eyes, “Kook?”
Jungkook smiled and even with him being soaked from the rain couldn’t stop his smile, “Y/N.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“I have so much to tell you.” 
“Sure, my parents are out right now. Come in.” 
They walked in and went to her room to have privacy. They sat on her bed (with Jungkook sitting on a towel) and she couldn’t look him in the eyes. He knew had to make the first move, “Your restaurant is homely.” 
“Thanks, we tried our best. It won’t be ours anymore.” 
“That's what I wanted to tell you.”
She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, “What?”
“I bought the restaurant...I’m your landowner and as your new landowner, I request no rent. Just live here and be happy.” 
She let out a laugh and shook her head, “What are you going on about?”
Jungkook turned towards her and grabbed her hands, “My father wanted to make this into a high-class restaurant. I told him he couldn’t do that, I saw potential in it, I told him. He said then it’s all mine or it’s going back to the previous landowner. I bought it because I knew this was your home and I wanted you to be happy.” 
“I-I have no words. You did this for me?”
“I would do anything for you.” 
“Did you tell Jessica to say sorry to me?”
Jungkook let out a laugh and nodded his head, “I did. It was pretty easy to convince her.” 
She smiled and rubbed his knuckles gently, “You picked me for the scholarship...”
“Rosé told you?” 
“She did...she also told me that...she told me that you're in love with me. Kook, I need to hear it from you.”
Jungkook leaned forward and placed his forehead on hers, “I-I’m in love with you...I was a selfish asshole in the beginning because I wanted to push you away. I realized that I couldn’t do that anymore to you nor myself. I love you, L/N Y/N. If you don’t feel the same, then say it.” 
She smiled and looked down. Silence encased around them and he couldn’t help but laugh. She looked back at his face and tilted her head. She gave him a quick kiss, “I feel the same...you were a selfish asshole. I’m glad we can agree on that.” 
He rolled his eyes and pushed some hair behind her ear, “Full of surprises.” 
“You did all this for me and never told me...”
“I was scared to tell you. You hated me, remember.” 
“For good reason.” 
He shook his head and chuckled, “Yes for good reason…can I have permission to kiss you?”
“Permission granted.”
He glanced down at her lips and she smiled at the softness in his eyes. She nodded her head and he leaned forward placing his lips on hers. The rain that was hitting her window became silent and the only thing that they felt was each other. His lips molded against hers with slowness making her head spin from the passion. It wasn’t until she felt his tongue against her lower lip, Oh, Jungkook. She parted her mouth and he made his way inside. He tasted like banana milk with a hint of chocolate, it was addictive. She knew she was in trouble. 
When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched as he pushed some hair away from her face. She placed her hands on top of his and frowned, “You’re hands...they're cold.” 
“I don’t feel cold when I’m with you.” 
She rolled her eyes and admired his face, “Should I warm you up?” 
His eyebrows raised and he was taken aback by her mischievous look, “Can you?”
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Jeon?” 
“Always is...especially with you.” 
She gently wiped water from his face, “Careful...you look like you're in love.” 
“Then I’ll get injured. It will be worth it.” 
He brought her into another passionate kiss but it was different from the first kiss. A soft moan slips from her throat and is swallowed by his lips. She clung to him, fingers curling at his gray jacket as he sucked on her tongue. She let out a small whimper when he gently bit her lip. When they parted, she couldn’t look away from him. Jungkook brought up his thumb running against her spit-soaked lower lip, he was captivated by the hazed-out love-drunk look on her face.  
“Do you want to continue?” 
“I would be stupid to say no...and stupid is not what I am.” 
He let out a laugh and pushed up her shirt. She quickly raised her arms and he tossed the black shirt over her head. She let out a small laugh at his eagerness but it was quickly wiped away when she saw the lust in his eyes. She was grateful that she didn’t wear a bra at home. He palmed against her breasts and squeezed them gently before his mouth replaced it. Softly moaning his name as her hands were brushing through his hair. 
His tongue flicked against her sensitive nub making her buck against him. He smirked at the effect he had on her. He gently pushed her on the bed and her head was against her pillows, looking at him with patience. She looked beautiful. Her hair sprawled out with all her little moles begging him to continue. Her stretch marks were his map that he couldn’t help but follow with his fingertips. She was a masterpiece that even he couldn’t afford on a good day. 
“What?” 
He rubbed her stomach gently and shook his head, “Nothing.” 
He gently removed her sweats and was met with a thin fabric. He stared at it for a second before tossing it with her shirt. Y/N felt his hands brushing over her ankles, her knees, and then her thighs while feeling his tongue sliding against her skin. She felt him kiss the inside of her thighs and she looked away with shyness washing over her face. She let out an unsteady breath when she felt his hot breath between her legs. 
“Jung-Jungkook.” She gasped out loud and her head whipped back to look at him. He placed his hands on her hips. 
He looked up and saw her flushed face and he smirked but then realization hit him. Was she inexperienced with this? He was going to show her that all the other guys she was with before were missing out on the greatest masterpiece. 
“Relax, I got you.” 
“Oh fuck...” She was squirming underneath him, the overwhelming sensation was taking over her. “Jung-Jungkook...please.” She wasn’t sure what she was pleading for but everything was overwhelming in a good way. 
Suddenly he added a finger and Y/N melted against him. Her fingers were gripping on the sheets and his hair, “I..I...Oh.” She breathed before he added another finger and the sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit was making her go crazy. 
Everything hit her. She was breathing loudly and he watched her face scrunched up. Jungkook slowly moved himself on top of her with a proud smirk. He saw the dazed state she was in and kissed her neck. Tasting the saltness while she was breathing loudly. 
“Are you okay?” 
She glanced at him and brought him into a kiss. He let out a groan when he felt her sucking at the tip of his tongue. She pushed him away and bit her lip, “I need you.”
“Need me for what?” 
She rolled her eyes and unzipped his jacket, tossing it at her pile of clothes. She glanced at his tattoos and gently traced them with her fingertips. She knew many hated his tattoos but she saw it as her map. A map that was filled with adventure and color within her black-and-white life. It was the most beautiful art piece she had ever seen. She was going to keep it from the public the best she could. 
“I need you inside of me.” 
“Can’t argue with that.” 
Jungkook took off his jeans as she leaned towards her nightstand taking out a condom. When he was done, he leaned back on top of her, kissing her slowly while she brushed her hands over his biceps. He slid his hand down the valley of her breast and then cupped her between her legs, making her buck against him, “You ready?” 
“Mmmm....”
He turned them around and she was on top, placing her hands on his chest to push herself up. Her eyes widened at the change but it quickly washed away, “Perfect.” 
“Oh..shit.” He groaned at the feeling and leaned forward nipping at her neck while helping her set a pace. She arched her back, moving up and down. His hands slid towards her ass, grabbing onto the cheeks, pushing himself deeper. 
Jungkook couldn’t take it anymore because of the eagerness he had with her. He suddenly grabbed her and slammed himself deeper inside of her. She moaned out his name and held onto him as he quickened his pace. Her nails digging into his tattooed arm. 
“Y-Y/N...shit.” 
Jungkook felt her clenching around him and he couldn’t hold back anymore. Groaning as he came and fell on top of her, both of them breathing loudly. She looked up at him and saw hair sticking to his forehead and she smiled. She pushed the hair and gently traced his face, “I-I love you.”
“I love you more...so much more.” 
.*・。゚☆゚.*・。
“Hey guys, it’s Kook. I’m going to take a small vacation since it’s the holidays but enjoy my top moments of 2023. I’ll see you next year! Happy New Year and drop a like if you laugh.” 
Y/N smiled at her phone and she sat on the couch, “Babe, do you want chicken?” 
“That sounds good.” 
Jungkook came into his living room and tilted his head, “What are you watching?” 
She let out a small laugh and looked up at him with a mischievous look, “My favorite Youtuber...” 
“Well, I hope he knows that I’m your favorite everything.”  
“I guess...” 
It’s been three months since their relationship. Her parents were shocked that she was dating him but after she explained everything to them, they saw him in a different light. Everyone at school was surprised to see Jungkook with someone like Y/N but no one questioned him (except Jessica). 
Rosé and Jaehyun became the new couple of the campus. Rosé didn’t have a choice to be with Jaehyun after the news got out that she cheated on Jungkook. She didn’t want her image to be ruined, so she settled with him. Jaehyun on the other hand was upset that Y/N was with Jungkook. He even tried to fight Jungkook but lost that fight. Jaehyun didn’t love Rosé the way he loved Y/N but Jungkook isn’t going anywhere. 
Taeyong and Yeri hated Jungkook at first but they started to like him slowly. Y/N wanted to tell them what Jungkook had done for her but he wanted to earn their likeness now. Jungkook even helped Taeyong with Seulgi while he helped Yeri with her classes. It was a sweet scene to see. 
Jungkook’s parents were indifferent to her. She was expecting that considering she was normal. Jungkook tried his best to get his parents to like her but she stopped him. It wasn’t worth it. If he loved her that’s what matters. 
Y/N glanced at Jungkook and raised her eyebrow, “What?”
“I can’t admire you?” 
“No...gamer boy. You can’t.”
He leaned forward placing a kiss on her lips, “I’ll always admire you...my favorite masterpiece.” 
775 notes · View notes
yoonia · 4 months
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© Yoonia, 2016-2024. All rights reserved. — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited | if you are under 18, please refrain from entering the restricted sections
key: angst ✵ | fluff ✿ | smut ♡  series: ongoing ✎ | hiatus ☽ | completed ✓
⇝— updated: April 24th, 2024 ⇝— fic archive 2016-2019 .。.✰ ⇝— work in progress & writing schedule .。.✰
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𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✩·.¸
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About Time (Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au) | Jungkook x reader x Jimin (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | Be careful of what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true.     ↪ Chapter masterlist
The Bedroom Hymns (a Bluebeard tale's twist; fairytale retelling au, fairy prince!yoongi, princess!reader, soulmate!au) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away.    ↪ Chapter masterlist
Blood Moon Rising (Supernatural!au, Vampire!au, Werewolves!au) | Jimin x reader (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Summary | What happens when the only people you have put your trust in only repay you with betrayal?     ↪ The Shifters Series masterlist
Carousel (Arranged Marriage!au, CEO!au, Heirs!au) | Min Yoongi x reader (feat. ot7) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ ➛ Summary | He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family's future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out.     ↪ Chapter masterlist
In Motion (Masturbation Club!au) | Jungkook x reader | ✿ ♡ ✓ ➛ Summary | The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch.     ↪ Chapter masterlist
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𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ✩·.¸ 
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Flux (Min Yoongi x reader x Jeon Jungkook) | Polyamorous!au | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Premise | A collection of short stories about the journey of finding and learning about love, life, and trust.     ↪ Chapters masterlist
Red Series (Min Yoongi) | Secrets of Pleasure | ✿ ♡ ✎ ➛ Premise | A collection of short stories between Yoongi and his lover (reader insert) which will tell a tale of their sexual adventures together.    ↪ Chapters masterlist
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𝐨𝐭𝟕 & 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Slow Dancing (M) - Jungkook x reader; Namjoon x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; soulmate!au, second chances!au ⇢ When fate has some tricks hidden in its sleeve      ↪ Chapter List 
28 Days (M) - Taehyung x reader; Jungkook x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ ☽ mini-series; slice of life!au; unrequited love!au; first love!au ⇢ When you let yourself get entangled in your own little lies    ↪ chapters: (under construction)
Ravished By Two (M) - Seokjin x reader x Namjoon | ✿ ♡ one-shot; werewolves!au; polyamorous!au | 5k words ⇢ Mated to your Alphas mean that you have to submit to their every need
Threads (M) - Yoongi x reader; Namjoon x reader | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; one-sided love!au; arranged relationship!au; 7k words ⇢ When life throws you a curve ball, leaving you with dark secrets to bury
The Agile Fox (M) - Yoongi x original character x Jungkook | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; supernatural!au, werewolf!jungkook, werefox!yoongi, werefox!oc | 52k words; part of Shifter Series ⇢ Sometimes the Fates can play tricks on you
Bed & Boyfriend(s) (M) - Taehyung x reader x Yoongi x Jungkook | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pwp; Polyamorous!au; 16k words ⇢ A long weekend filled with wanton pleasure with the help of his best friends
Sweet Temptations (M) - Taehyung x reader x Jungkook | ♡ one-shot; brothel!au; male escort!au; 20k words ⇢ Welcome to House Of Lust, where your escorts will be there to provide you with every need
Ever a Never After - Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader | ✿ ♡ adaptation from Enchanted movie; strangers to lovers!au; fairy tale retelling!au, Smut ⇢ Stuck between two different realms, two different lives, and a chance to write your own happily ever after, would you take it?
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𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Cinnamon Bliss (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ mini-series; single father!Jin, cafe owner!reader, unrequited love!au ⇢ When you share the journey of finding the path to healing and re-finding love again     ↪ Chapter List 
Of Bears And Bonds (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ trilogy/mini-series; supernatural!au, werebear!Jin, witch!reader | part of Shifter Series ⇢ When you find your past, present, and future are all linked together with your fated ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (end)
Blurred Lines (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓ trilogy/mini-series; teacher!Jin, teacher!reader, biker!Jin ⇢ People do say that the quiet ones always keep the biggest secret ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (end)
Mistakes and Retakes (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; christmas rom-com; enemy to lovers!au; Part of the Stranded for Christmas Collab; 18,5k words ⇢ When your archenemy becomes your saviour
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𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Clair De Lune (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; pianist!yoongi, escort!reader; 23k words ⇢ You were ready to leave a part of your life to move on to the next, and he is willing to give you a chance to end it glamorously
Pour Some Sugar On Me (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; enemies to lovers!au; baker!au; baker!yoongi; baker!reader; 14k words ⇢ When he shows you how baking and taste testing can be delightfully messy
Little Do You Know (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; artist/music producer!yoongi; established relationship!au; 22k words ⇢ With love, comes challenge. But what do you have to do to hold on? 
Bad Things (M) | ✵ ♡one-shot; brothel!au; street fighter!yoongi; sex worker/escort!reader; past lovers!au; 14k words ⇢ He always comes to you when he needs you to douse his flame, not knowing that he is keeping yours alight with his touch
Come Undone (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship!au, BDSM; 14k words ⇢ When your little surprise to please him backfires and he turns the tide against you instead
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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 ☽.·✩·.¸
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✎ 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘂𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 01. Intertwine (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; past lovers!au, office!au; infidelity; 12k words 02. Tidal Waves (M)| ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; slice of life!au; past lovers!au, office!au; infidelity
✎ 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 01. Spotless Minds (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au; new beginning; inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds; 36k words 02. Eternal Sunshine (M) | ✷ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au; new beginning; epilogue for Spotless Minds; 39k words 03. Sunset Glow (coming soon)
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𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸
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The Stand-In (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot & drabble series; friends to lovers!au, post divorce/failed marriage!au; expecting parents!au; 13k words ⇢ He is ready to help with your situation in more ways than one      ↪ Fic Index
Once Upon An Us (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; past lovers!au, exes to lovers!au, christmas rom-com; 47k words ⇢ When the fairy tale ending that you had been searching for had always been there the entire time
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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Strip! (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✓trilogy/mini-series; stripper!jimin, bartender!reader; single parent!au; spin-off for Bad For You ⇢ Sometimes a little bit of fun brings colours to your hard life, but what if he is here to stay?      ↪ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 (End)
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𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 ☽.·✩·.¸
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𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Bad For You (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ one-shot; stripper!jungkook; bachelorette!au; infidelity; 11k words ⇢ His whole presence emits sin and danger     ↪ Fic Index ↪ drabbles: ⇢ #1 // #2
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𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐮 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Chance Encounter (M) | ✵ ✿ ♡ ✎ series; college!au; teacher’s aid!au ⇢ What a simple DM mishap could lead to happen     ↪ Chapter List
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𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐢𝐧 ☽.·✩·.¸
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Sweet Spot (M) | ✿ ♡ one-shot; established relationship; 6k words ⇢ When his jealousy makes him more daring than he is used to
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𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☽.·✩·.¸
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✎ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 (𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐤)  ● Howlin’ (M) | ✵ ♡ one-shot; werewolf!au; fated mates!au; 6k words ⇢ When your responsibility to the Pack life comes between your Fated
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✎ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐥 ● A Night With You | ✿ ♡ (implied) mini drabble; boyfriend!Chanyeol ⇢ A glimpse of the nights you spend with him
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— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
532 notes · View notes
aloneatpeace · 1 year
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THE CASTLE
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THE GARDENS
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24 notes · View notes
personasintro · 10 months
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monachopsis | 09
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series, brother-in-law au
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, ANGST
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 16.4k+
a/n: the long wait is over and the new chapter is here 🥹 sit back and enjoy ❤️‍🔥
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↳ chapter index
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⇠ prev. | next ⇢
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The cold and dark night perfectly portrays your inner feelings that dawn on you on the outside too, tears blurring your vision as you angrily wipe them off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn't have come here. You trusted Yoongi to help you, maybe you even looked for comfort in him but you never expected he would accuse you of something like that.
Absolutely understanding that it's not his responsibility to comfort you, he could've easily told you to fuck off if he wanted. But still, you hoped he would understand. Your reaction is mainly controlled by your emotions, not with your head that doesn't seem to be in the right place.
Life taught you not to expect things from people, but everyone's got their expectations. Especially when you feel like you know that person at least a little bit. So you expect nothing this time, making your way to the car when you hear your name being shouted on the street. 
You've barely managed to take a few, fast and angry, strolls out of the studio. Glancing back and stopping in your tracks, you notice Yoongi staring at you as he rushes to you. You can't face him now. You turn around and continue in your path with even more eager and faster steps to get to your car.
Yoongi catches up to you though, running after you as the wind gets more intense and makes your hair stick to your wet cheeks. He's not going to let you leave, especially when he stormed out of his studio past his very confused friends. He's not fully understanding what happened, he might've gotten carried away and shouldn't have accused you of such things. But from what you were saying, it was something that made sense.
You're not okay. You weren't okay the second he laid his eyes on you when you were standing at the entrance of his new studio. And you're not okay now when he catches you by your forearm, stopping you from getting away from him and he sees your crying face. 
Fuck. Is that all his doing?
“What do you want?” you snap, shrugging off his touch with an angry frown as you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve.
What does he want? He has no fucking idea. He just couldn't leave you in such a state, knowing you have nowhere else to go. For fuck sake, he doesn't get why you came to him out of all people but you did. And he knows he would feel like a fucking asshole if he let you leave in your current state. The look of you only confirms he has done the right thing. 
“I shouldn't have assumed anything,” he speaks, eyes dancing across your face as you're trying to look angry. Only he feels bad for you, knowing what happened between you and his brother is way more serious. “I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry I came here. It won't happen again.” you say emotionlessly, ending the conversation there as you turn around.
Yoongi doesn't let you. He catches you again, softly but enough to let you stay as he turns you around. “Where are you going?”
“Why do you care?” The same emotionless tone. It makes his jaw tick. 
“Where are you going?” he asks again, this time more deeper and slower.
“To my car. Now let me go.”
The truth is, you weren't only crying because of what Yoongi said. Sure, the interaction shocked you to the point where you felt disappointment, sadness and anger. You don't even know what emotion dominates. However, it's the awful feeling of loneliness and desperation. You have no idea what you're going to do now.
Yoongi watches you, a realization hitting him. “Fuck, you're shaking, Y/N.”
It hits you too. He's right. You didn't even notice it.
And then you break and a silent whimper leaves your mouth. There's no control over it, your body shaking even more as Yoongi sucks in breath harshly at the heartbreaking sight. He moves automatically, pulling your body to his with no protest from your side as you welcome his warmth. Despite the odd situation and Yoongi's arms around your fragile body, it doesn't dawn upon you he's hugging you until he tightens his grip on you.
“It's gonna be okay.” he mutters into the chilly air.
For a moment you're not able to react in any way, you direct all your focus trying to stop the tears that have welled up in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. 
“Nothing's gonna be okay.”
“Now that's very pessimistic of you.” He tries to joke lightly, letting out just a light chuckle. But once he doesn't seem you nowhere near amused and in the same state, he gently pulls you off him to get another glance at your teary face.
It's embarrassing that he sees you in such a horrific and vulnerable state. For a solid second you hate him for approaching you. Why couldn't he just let you leave? He said what he wanted to say. The hurt still resonates and even when he gently wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumb, like you would often see in romantic movies, nothing about this is romantic. You're pregnant, nowhere to go and with no one by your side. 
Yoongi might've apologized already, but his assumption and words still sting and you have a hard time believing him. Is he truly sorry? Or he just didn't expect you to storm out of there like that? And finding you crying in the middle of the street like an emotional wreck?
“Come on, let's get you to the car.” he mumbles under his breath, looking around before he gently tugs onto your wrist. He doesn't let go, almost as if he's afraid of you running. 
“My car's that way.” you point out emotionlessly, stubborn to show any more emotion that you already have.
He was right about one thing. You shouldn't drive in this state. No matter what could've happened, this is no longer only about you. You've got one more person to think about. 
“We're gonna drive in my car.” he simply says and you don't argue.
Once he unlocks his car with a key – the old system of unlocking – you get inside and does it feel odd to be back inside it again? No words are exchanged, the radio playing softly in the background as you allow yourself to lean back and stare out of the window. You're not sure where he's taking you. Oh god, is he taking you back home? You can't go there! Not with Yeonseok there. 
Just as you open your mouth, you recognize the familiar street and the direction you're heading at. 
“Where are we going?” you ask, despite knowing but you still have to ask. Yoongi's aware of that.
“To my place.”
“Yoongi–” 
Still hurt (and upset too) by your latest conversation at his new studio, you're aware of Yoongi wanting to be out of this as much as possible. While you're guessing he must feel bad for you and that's why he's doing this, you don't want him to do this out of pure pity. You would rather be alone in a hotel room until you figure out this mess. 
“You said you have nowhere to go, didn't you?” he reminds you. A little output by his bluntness, your mouth opens and closes before you find words. 
“And you said everything is way past us.” You quote him with an edge to your tone, shooting him a side glance as he keeps his eyes on the road as he lets out a sigh. “Drive me to a hotel. Any hotel is fine.”
You feel his momentarily gaze on you. Too stubborn to look, you keep staring ahead with a clenched jaw. It's not like there's no appreciation of what he's doing on your part. After everything – even if the emotions are too raw and current – you can tell that it's a positive thing that he decided to stop you from driving. As usual, you're absolutely clueless about what's going on inside his head or why he's doing this. You don't think he's got any bad intentions. Regardless of what his parents and your husband say about him, you know Yoongi does have a good heart.
But you've got your own pride as well.
“I know what I said and I'm sorry.” he simply says, continuing in his drive and not changing the direction which you decide not to comment on for numerous reasons. 
The air between you is a little stiff, undoubtedly caused by the misunderstanding (is that what it was?), and the way inside the building and his apartment is spent in utter silence. It's until Yoongi closes his front door and you're met with the familiar scent of oranges and wood, that you finally speak up. 
“Why am I here, Yoongi?” you ask, not taking off your shoes like he tells you to – muttering it almost tiredly to be exact. You ignore him, raising your brow as you demand an answer. 
He takes off his shoes and jacket silently, placing the items to their designated place. He's definitely taking his time but you don't budge, hardening your features even more as he takes a sneaky glance at you. 
“Can we not fight?”
“I'm not fighting!” you exclaim, a little bit too loud which causes him to raise his brow at you this time. “Thanks for driving me but I shouldn't be here.”
“But you came to me, haven't you?” he asks, hardening his features just as much. “You must've wanted help.”
“I needed a friend,” you correct him. “I needed someone who understands.” Your voice wavers and you mentally curse at yourself. 
He has no reaction, simply looking at you until he drops his gaze toward his feet.
“I know we're no friends. I'm aware of that. But I needed someone who's familiar with my situation. It was wrong of me to come up to you. You were right, it looked wrong and I shouldn't have–”
“I was an asshole for assuming the reason for you coming there.” he cuts you off. “It didn't even cross my mind that you needed–that you needed someone who understands.”
“You wanted as far out of this mess as possible,” you point out harshly. “And I can't blame you for it. We all got what we wanted, didn't we?”
He looks up, your eyes meeting for a moment as he understands the double meaning of your words. Poking the tongue inside of his cheek, he looks behind you.
“I don't wanna be any burden to you. I will handle this by myself, somehow. I don't know how yet, but it's not your concern. I'm sorry for coming to you.”
“Don't,” he cuts you off, staring at you sternly. “Just stay here, okay?” he asks, sighing exhaustedly like this entire situation makes him both mentally and physically exhausted. 
It definitely exhausts you.
“Why?”
The question is simple. You don't expect him to give you a proper answer or any at this point. Yoongi might be honest but most of the time, he keeps his thoughts to himself. He's not one to open his heart and if he does, he does it almost emotionlessly. You know it's all an act. The often mentioned build-up wall you named in your mind. 
“Because I wanna help.”
That alone makes your breath hitch. Dryly gulping, you try not to react too much as you stand there not moving an inch.
“Do you, now?” you ask. You're aware of your stubbornness and the fact you're not making any of this easy. You should be happy that he's trying to help. At least someone is. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of what a fucked up deal you made. Someone that doesn't need an explanation of why you left your perfect and loving husband. So yes, he's here trying to help and you should be glad for it. A part of you thinks like that. 
But there's that part of you completely clueless by his intentions or inner thoughts. He's talking but at the same time he barely reveals anything. Perhaps your questioning and attitude is caused by still lingering hurt. 
“Yes,” he answers with a frown. “So let me help you.”
Features softening, you stare into those usually sharp eyes that somehow keep their shape despite the light behind them changing. Hesitantly, you take off your shoes and ignore the fact he's watching you the entire time. Once you're done, he leads you further down his small apartment. Not that he needs you. You know this place well and again, it's not like any of you need that reminder. 
“I can lend you some of my clothes.” he says, motioning for you to sit down on his couch.
You obey, placing your hands over your knees as you look around. Why are you suddenly nervous? Or is that discomfort you're feeling? You definitely imagined all of this to go differently. Still a little shaken up by everything that has happened today, everything starts to take its toll on you. 
“I'm not a tea drinker but I should have herbal tea somewhere. I will make you one.”
He doesn't wait for your response, simply walking away to his kitchen to prepare the tea. He's gone for a few minutes, but you refuse to even look in that direction. You hate that feeling of being alone. As soon as you're surrounded by the four walls and silence, minus the occasional sounds of drawers opening and closing that come from the kitchen, everything starts to replay in your mind like a broken record.
Luckily, Yoongi comes back with a cup of tea, placing it in front of you in utter silence. 
“Thanks.”
He only nods, slowly and carefully sitting down on the separate chair. 
“You can take my bed.”
“I can sleep on the couch.” you inform him. “I'm not fragile.”
He seems like he wants to argue at that statement, he keeps his mouth shut. The couch is nothing but uncomfortable and you both know that. But you don't need him sacrificing himself any more than he already has. 
“Don't fight me on this, alright?” he asks gently. When your stern frown meets his exhausted one, you press your lips into a tight line as you mutter out another thanks. “I've got sessions throughout the entire day, but feel free to do whatever you want.”
“I'll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for letting me stay the night.” you tell him, meaning every word. 
“You can stay however long you want, okay?” He leans his head, trying to catch your eyes again. And once he does and your gaze naturally finds him, he deepens his stare as if to make sure you understand. “I'm barely at home. You'll have this place all to yourself. Not that there's much to do but…”
You press your lips tightly, a little grin threatening to crack. 
“I'll try to come home quickly. We'll figure it out, okay?”
Looking at him once more, you search his face for any answers that are yet to be answered. 
What do you mean, you want to ask. Since when does he want to get involved?
“I thought you didn't want to get involved.” you say silently, staring at your fumbling hands that rest in your lap. 
“Yeah, me too.” he mutters, his eyes not leaving his form. “I got myself involved the moment I nodded to Yeonseok's idea.”
Flinching at the sound of your husband's name, you clear your throat rather awkwardly. 
“It's not your responsibility to get into this mess. I know in a way you're involved, but you're not entirely involved in my and your brother's mess.”
It definitely sounds messy. The argument started with Yoongi, the entire trail of your thoughts started with him in a way. But he doesn't need to get involved more than that. It was a mistake on your part to come to his new place and search for him, in hope for some comfort. 
“Me staying here is just going to cause a disaster.”
You both know you're talking about your husband here. The look you both share says it all. 
“Yeonseok?” he still asks, chuckling a little.
You nod. 
“I'm not afraid of him.”
“I know you're not but he's… you know how he is. If he finds out I'm here–he probably already suspects I went to you. I'm not sure but I think he does.”
“I'll handle him if he comes here.”
You nervously nibble on your bottom lip. Your stupid decision to seek comfort and support from Yoongi might cause even a bigger mess. 
“Don't worry, okay? I'll handle it. Let me help you.”
After staring at him hesitantly, aware of vulnerability written all over your face, you give him a nod. Something that allows him to relax as he leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 
“Drink your tea before it gets cold. I'll prepare the bed for you.”
You open your mouth to argue but before you can do that, he's already on his feet walking away. Sighing in disappointment, you reach for the plain black cup nevertheless.
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Yoongi doesn't leave for work too early, but early enough for you two not seeing each other. You wake up later than usual, very well aware your late night staring at the dark ceiling and not blinking an eye has a lot to do with it. No matter how tired you truly felt as soon as you laid into the fresh sheets, your mind just couldn't seem to stop working. 
Yoongi stayed true to his words. He stayed on his uncomfortable couch. Proposing sharing a bed is not something appropriate, despite you've shared a bed before. Things are different now. 
The first thing you did this morning, after blinking off any traces of sleep and staring around Yoongi's bedroom, was turning on your phone. No missed calls. You're not sure whether you're relieved or surprised. Yeonseok is usually very caring and tends to get worried. Deep down you know you expected to see at least a message.
It's better this way. Having him trying to reach you would just make you more uncomfortable. You know he's equally upset and even though you've never been through something like this, you made yourself clear.
Getting out of the bed, wearing Yoongi's clothes which you're trying not to think of much, you find a sticky note on a counter. A messily written note. You imagine him writing it at the last minute, hurrying to leave for work. 
There's some food in the fridge, feel free to make whatever you'd like. It's not much but it should do.
Simple, but effective. 
Turning on the kettle, you prepare a cup and tea. Wow, he really isn't a tea drinker. Choosing the only box he has there, you open the fridge to find good ingredients to make a proper breakfast from. You've never been much of a breakfast eater, but after you got pregnant that has changed. You've been craving more food now, even though you sometimes get sensitive about smells and taste.
You settle on a toast. It takes you around fifteen minutes to prepare everything. You purposely take your time, knowing there's nothing much for you to do for the rest of your day. Maybe you should change back into your clothes and leave Yoongi's apartment while he's at work. As much as he assured you he wants to help, you know that's not what he wanted at the beginning. Not that it matters, but something tells you the inconvenience your stay is going to bring. 
You're not a pity case. You hate the thought of him pitying you.
Regardless of your thoughts, your feet don't cross his doorstep. You're in the middle of watching a movie on his Netflix account (hoping he won't mind you using it) when your phone rings. Brows lift up to your hairline, seeing Yoongi is the one calling you. Pausing the movie, you clear your throat before answering. 
“Yes?”
“Um, hey.” Yoongi starts, clearing his tone from the sudden but apparent awkwardness. “Have you eaten?”
Something about that question makes you snort. 
He groans on the other line. Little do you know he's awkwardly scratching the top of his head. 
“I have.” you say with a smile grazing your lips. 
“I'm gonna buy some groceries after work,” he continues. “There are some flyers on the fridge. Feel free to order dinner, there are uh,” he stops for a second. “A few bucks in my nightstand.”
“Yoongi, I should–”
“Just stay there, okay?” 
He's met with silence. 
“Y/N.” 
Stopping yourself from biting your nails, you lick your dry lips. “Okay.”
Once Yoongi ends the phone call without saying anything else, you stay seated in utter silence – staring at the paused movie. It sounded like he needed assurement you wouldn't leave. You're not sure why he's so determined about you waiting up for him. You wouldn't do anything stupid, it's not like you've got many options to begin with. But you promised him you would stay. 
After all, he's the only person who's helping you at the moment. 
Back in Yoongi's studio, he places the phone back onto a counter with a thoughtful look. Too immersed in his thoughts, wondering what he's going to do once he comes back home, he doesn't notice Jimin coming from the back and joining him in the front. 
“Your next appointment is in five. You alright?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at his friend with a suspicious look. 
“Yeah.”
“Who was that on the phone? Your girlfriend?” he teases the older, laughing at Yoongi's unimpressed glare that tells him enough that he's not in the mood for a dumb teasing. 
Actually, he's not been in the mood since he arrived at the studio and opened it with Jimin's help. While Yoongi's tattooing, Jimin takes care of the phone calls and incoming customers. After he ran after you, his friends were kind enough that they took care of the studio. Without their help, he wouldn't be able to start working and would be forced to cancel his long-waiting appointments. He's not in a position to cancel them. Even after paying his debts, he still needs the money.
His aching back is also a good reason for his sour mood. 
“Don't hate me for asking. You've been quite secretive lately, no wonder we're all a little curious.” Even with Jimin's light grin, there's some truth to his words. 
However, Yoongi doesn't agree. 
He's not been secretive. He's always been the same. And he's sure what Jimin hints at is–
“Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law?” He's met with a tougher glare this time, causing Jimin's hands to lift up in surrender, showing him he means no harm.
“Is she okay though? She stormed out of here looking like a mess and then–”
“She's fine,” Yoongi cuts him off, tone harsher than he intended to which causes the younger's shoulders to drop. “Just some trouble back at home. Come on, the client is coming.” he mutters, walking to the back feeling Jimin's eyes on his back the entire time until he hears his cheerful greeting to one of Yoongi's new clients. 
Despite the lack of Yoongi's will to share any information about what happened in the span of twenty-four hours, Jimin and none of his friends have a clue in what a fucked up situation he found himself in.
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He never said at what time he would be back. 
You've waited long enough for him to come, too embarrassed to admit your ears have been perked up at the littlest sounds, expecting the keys rustling in the lock. But when it was around eight and your stomach started to churn loud enough to no longer be ignored, you listened to Yoongi's words and ordered a delivery. 
At least something seems to go right when you're in the middle of opening one of the containers when you hear the door being pushed open. It shuts in the distance and with soon approaching footsteps, you come into an eye-contact with him. Two bags full of groceries are in his both hands as the delicious smell of fresh food invades his small apartment. He glances at the amount of containers before he looks at you. 
An almost inaudible Hi comes out of your mouth and instead of a vocal greeting, he nods in acknowledgement as he greets you back by it. 
“I ordered some for you.” you tell him, slowly – almost cautiously – sitting behind the table. 
“Thanks.” he says, eyes still lingering on the full table as your eyes widen in realization.
“Oh, I paid for it. I got a little carried away and got us a pizza and chicken wings. There's rice and a few side dishes as well.” 
Yoongi listens for a second, walking to the kitchen counter where he sets the grocery bags before he turns around. He stays rooted in his spot, eyes falling down on you as you give him a sheepish look. 
“I told you there's money in my nightstand. You didn't have to buy all of this.” 
Even with his little pointed look and tone, you know he means well. And perhaps he's too prideful to suck up the fact you paid for it. Yoongi did say there's a few bucks in his bedroom but the order you placed cost more than just a few bucks. Although, you never checked how much money he has there – it didn't even cross your mind – none of it matters. 
“I wanted to buy us dinner. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me stay here. It's the least I could do.”
Holding back any sort of reaction like you're used to when it comes to him, Yoongi sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Then he looks at you and cracks – what seems like an attempt to – smile.
He knows there's no way in arguing with you on this. 
“Thanks. You didn't have to though.”
“I know I didn't. I wanted to,” you assure him right away, smiling in his direction as if to silently say that you're done with this conversation. “Now eat up. I hope you haven't eaten dinner already.”
“I haven't,” he hums, joining you at the table as he looks at the containers opening them. “Just how much did you order?” he asks, lips twitching.
“A lot.” you laugh. 
Yoongi goes to grab utensils, washes his hands before joining you again at the table. The moment of you two sitting behind one table – just the two of you – having dinner feels odd. It feels oddly domestic. Just as the both of you are ready to dig in, Yoongi mutters a soft; 
“Thanks for the food.”
All you can muster is a soft smile without even looking at him, stuffing your mouth with the delicious pizza as you continue to eat in silence. 
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After yesterday's late dinner and during the time he cleaned the kitchen, he asked you for your car keys and documents, so he could bring the car today. Not wanting to argue about that, you agreed to Yoongi's plan – making sure it's no bother which earned a certain type of look from him. Or was it a glare? 
You've had the whole morning to think of your next step. Yoongi had left earlier than yesterday, the only difference is that he informed you about him having to leave very early. Something about his day being fully packed, so the only time he can bring your car is in the evening.
Your entire life is currently a big mess. What was supposed to be the happiest stage in your life, you're spending it at your brother-in-law's place with nothing. All your stuff is back at home. Home. Can you call it that? 
Yeonseok has not contacted you yet. He's probably still upset over the argument and you've no idea what is going on inside his head. Not that you assume he has to contact you in the first place. Actually, you would be glad if he didn't contact you. 
Eventually, the two of you will have to talk. You're not ready. Not after everything that has been replaying in your mind nonstop. Sleep is the only time when you have enough time to rest, and even that is never guaranteed. 
One thing you know for sure, you can't stay here for too long. You don't want to overstay your welcome and despite what Yoongi told you on the phone yesterday, you just know he is going to want this place to himself eventually. Which means, you have to solve this with Yeonseok.
You do have money to stay at a hotel for the time being, but that's not a solution. Just a temporary one. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You're supposed to buy baby clothes and essentials, look around for a good crib and a stroller. Not being in someone else's home, invading their space and privacy and stressing yourself. On another note, it's safe to say that it is completely reasonable for you to stress. Who wouldn't?
The stress has completely invaded your life and while you're trying to keep your cool for the baby, it's bound for it to affect a thing or two. Like forgetting your appointment. 
Good thing is that when you go to check your phone (while trying to give yourself a break from your never-ending stressful thoughts), a reminder pops up on the screen. You've never been one to set reminders on your phone. Just a quick note if there was too much for you. But you've started doing that since going on these appointments that included the baby.
Looking at time, you still have two hours to get there.
But that's where the problem comes. You're without your car, so you're forced to list through your contacts before you dial the only person you've been seeing for the past two days. 
It rings too long to the point you get anxious. You could reschedule the appointment, but with how things have been going so far, you need the assurance that everything is fine with the baby. You haven't experienced anything alarming and concerning that could alarm you, but still. You don't want to neglect anything. If something happened, you would never forgive yourself. 
Whilst in the middle of nibbling on your nails, a gruff voice you've grown to use to reach your ears.
“Um, hi. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're extremely busy today but–”
“What happened?”
“I'm such an idiot. I just checked my phone and my appointment is today. And you know, my car's not here and I could probably get there by a bus, but I don't know this neighborhood and I'm not sure if I could get there on time.” you quickly explain, not wanting to take much of his time.
You don't know everything about him, but he seems to be the type of person that gets annoyed when someone interrupts him while working.
If he is annoyed, he doesn't show it too much. 
Or it's hard to tell because his usual stoic demeanor can be recognized even through the phone. “What appointment?” he sighs.
“With–with the baby.” 
He stays silent for a moment, “What time is it?”
“It's half past ten.”
“I meant the appointment.”
“Oh,” you let out, chuckling at your mistake as you mentally facepalm yourself. But it's worth it, there's something like a huff of chuckle on the other line which breaks his usual demeanor you mentioned earlier. “In two hours.”
“Ah, fuck,” Yoongi sighs a little, “Okay. I will drive you there.”
“You sure?”
“How else you wanna get there?” he asks, which shuts you up for a moment.
“I mean, that's true but you said you're busy. Maybe I could quickly check the buses and get to your address. My car's there. Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?”
“Stop,” You pucker your lips as you freeze, almost as if Yoongi is right there. “Don't stress yourself. Just get ready, I'll pick you up in like an hour and half.”
“Thank you.” you say, sighing in relief. 
You imagine him nodding as he lets out a humming sound. He excuses himself before he ends the call. Your call falls down on your lap as you stare at the blank screen of his television. Ignoring the thumping of your heart from the entire call, you go get yourself ready.
Yoongi picks you up right on time, his car already parked in front of the building while you walk out of the entrance. When you get inside, you get a greeting in the form of a short nod before he puts the car into drive. Giving him location details, you nibble on your lip for a moment. His car smells like his cologne, mixed with cigarettes and mint. It's an odd scent. Despite you hating the smell of cigarettes, you don't seem to mind this mixture. Besides, the cigarettes' smell isn't that strong. 
“Thanks for coming to pick me up.��
Filling up the silence, you feel like it's the right thing to do because you're not going to spend the rest of the ride in an awkward silence. Glancing at Yoongi, he looks anything but awkward. It's like he's in his own space, distancing from everything and everyone, closing himself off as he focuses on driving.
“Is this the moment where you apologize for bothering me?” he questions, a tilt of teasing in his voice as he says it with the most neutral face. 
You stare at him, mouth agape before he briefly glances at you as he can't hold himself. His lips twitch slightly but you notice it right away. Breathing out a chuckle, you shake your head at him. Min Yoongi is freaking teasing you.
“I mean—you had to get here when you were working.” you point out. 
Though, you weren't planning on apologizing, he's right in a way. 
“But I insisted on leaving your car there. I insisted you drive with me.”
For obvious reasons, you think. Not that you want to admit it, but you're glad he didn't let you drive in the state you were in back then. 
“You don't have your car thanks to me, let's end it with that, okay?”
“Okay.” you agree, turning your head to the window as you stare at the streets and people passing.
Once the road and surroundings become more familiar, the oddness of this all comes to sit in the pit of your stomach. Meanwhile you stare at the tall building you've grown used to, Yoongi finds a good parking spot. Once the engine's off and business of the surroundings can be barely heard through the windows, you reach for the doorknob slowly. 
“You're gonna be fine from here?” he asks, not looking at you when you do glance at him. 
When you don't answer right away, he glances at you before you can find the proper words to tell him that you will be fine.
“You don't need me to go there with you?”
Even if his tone is nonchalant as if he's asking the most basic stuff, he takes you by surprise and makes your brows shoot up. “You would go there with me?” you ask, sounding not totally sold on that idea. 
Looking at him now, he already seems to be wanting to be in a different place. Not in front of a building full of doctors and inside with a bunch of pregnant females. Suddenly, the thought of seeing him there is a little laughable. 
So because of that, you haven't even thought about him being there. Until he said it. 
You do need to admit that you haven't been here alone ever since you got pregnant. Your OB/GYN is here, so you used to go here for check-ups way before that. Yeonseok was the one who joined you right after you got pregnant. Thinking of it now, you're reminded of how excited you were to go for these check-ups, not only to calm down your nerves if everything's right, but to see your baby. Even if you could hardly tell their body parts.
It became the thing between you and him. It's what most expecting parents do, but it became your special thing in a way. Something that you always looked for. Something you've always done together.
But now – it's the first time you're here alone. Yeonseok is not by your side and probably the most distant he's ever been in your life. That's on you though. It would be weird to ask him to come here, after everything that has been said between you and him. 
“I would, if you want me to.” Yoongi replies, catching your attention and as you slowly shake yourself out of your thoughts, you remember what the conversation is about.
“Wouldn't that be weird for you though?” you ask, noticing you still have ten minutes before your scheduled check-up.
He doesn't respond at first, deciding to ignore that question as he sinks deeper into his seat. Elbow coming up to rest against the door, he uses his fingers to rub his chin softly.
“Nothing I couldn't handle,” he decides to say, “You're acting a little weird, that's why I'm asking.”
Clueless to what Yoongi's thinking, he thinks of one of the reasons that could potentially get you acting weird, at least one that's generalized and comes to his mind first. He doesn't even have to think about it too much. You're worried that something's wrong, right? Aren't most pregnant women like that?
Maybe it's better you can't read his thoughts, or else he would get a nasty look in return. You are a little bit more sensitive. 
Should you just tell him? Again, you do not want to burden him in your shit any more than you already do. Telling him about Yeonseok would probably not only put him into a sour mood, but it would mean he would most likely try to understand you. You've figured out a long time ago that he's not bad at all. 
Yoongi is actually a sweet person. Still in his way, but without a doubt, he is one.
Making a decision of just telling him instead, be honest and in a hope he won't think you want to be pitied, you lick your lips as you shrug. “It's because it is weird. Yeonseok used to come with me every time.”
He's silent for a moment, “And now he's not here.” he adds without you having to finish as you nod, confirming his thoughts. 
“Which of course, doesn't mean you have to go with me.” you quickly correct whatever suspicion he might have. 
But looking at him, he looks anything but suspicious. He nods, more to himself than to you or your words, shrugging. “I understand shit about pregnancy, but it probably feels lonely to go there alone, right?”
Well, damn. The look you give him makes him shrug. 
“You don't need to pity me, Yoongi. It's not that big of a deal.”
“I still have to wait for you, right? Need to drive you back.”
“Well, it's up to you.” you mumble, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Around pregnant females?” he chuckles, “How bad can it be?”
“You can come with me, I think…” you nibble on your bottom lip, “I think I would like that.”
He nods.
“But only if you want to!”
By the time you're done talking, Yoongi's already unfastening his seatbelt, motioning for you to do the same. You can't believe you're doing this.
As you approach the building and navigate Yoongi where to go, you're not sure what's weird to begin with. The thought of going here all alone or the thought of Min Yoongi beside you.
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What the fuck.
Pictures of vaginas, uterus and what it looks inside of women's uterus during pregnancy are everywhere. Don't get him wrong, he has seen a fair amount of vaginas and he's quite familiar with it, but not like this. It feels very… odd to be surrounded by a sketched version of it all. Obviously, he's never been in a waiting room like this one.
Sitting next to you soundlessly, he shifts on his spot as you seem to be immersed in your own thoughts. He has no idea why he agreed to this. While he knows you in no way forced him and perhaps you find a weirdness of his presence here as well, he just tried to do the right thing. 
You've been through a lot and as much as he tried to distance from it all, he's got you in his home. Maybe he's not very upfront about it or too enthusiastic, but he does help people that seem in a need of it. Even though he doesn't look like he loves doing it, he just does. Is it important if someone loves or hates helping others as long as they do it? 
Right next to him, legs crossed and fingers playing with your rings, you were right. There are couples, chatting silently with wide smiles as they can't see their little ones forming into a proper life. You were one of those people not long ago. 
You don't allow yourself to feel guilty about it. You did what you had to do to make sure not to hurt yourself or others even more. Only time will show if it was the right decision, but for now, it feels like the best one you could've made. 
On the other hand, you can't believe Yoongi is in a waiting room with you, staring obnoxiously at the image of a uterus. It's pretty laughable though.
Suppressing your laugh, you watch him stretch his legs as his arm rests in his lap. Ignoring the veins that mostly pop up because of the pressure of his posture, he makes himself comfortable. Does he find this weird too?
There is no way he has done this before in his life. Of course, he hasn't. 
“You know,” you murmur silently, just for you and him to hear. He glances at you, giving you his attention but then again, maybe he's glad he doesn't have to stare at the picture any longer. “You don't have to go inside with me.”
As usual, he has no shocked reaction to it. “I didn't even think about it.”
You open your mouth, a little offended look that gives it away as he cuts you off before you can say anything.
“I meant as I'll go and wait with you here.”
He tries to explain in his own nonchalant and informative way. Well, you can't get mad at that. Weirdly, you understand what he means. 
Leaning back and trying to make yourself more comfortable, you hope they'll take you soon so he doesn't have to wait too long. Despite his usually calm demeanor, Yoongi does not look like the type to like waiting. Well, who does? But he surely has no patience for this. Even more so that he has a job that he needs to go back to. 
Luckily, the door opens soon and the nurse you're familiar with calls you in. Some couples like to come early, probably too excited to not mind waiting it out here. Some of them are called as well, since there are more ambulances on this floor.
You grab your things before standing up, making your way inside as the nurse stops you. “Is the young man not going with you?”
Since Yoongi and you were sitting close together, there's a low chance he would be a stranger considering there are free seats on both sides of you. She asks long enough, looking at Yoongi with a welcoming and friendly smile. 
“Ah, that's my friend.”
“We're only screening today. It's up to you though.” she reminds you, smiling widely. You would too if you had her paycheck. It's a private hospital after all.
Not trying to catch too much attention about something so… normal, Yoongi directs his eyes from the nurse to look at you. “It's up to you.”
“As long as you're comfortable with it, Mrs. Min. It was just a suggestion. I know some women bring their friends with them, no matter the gender.” she tries to joke, your smile tight and awkward.
“I'm a family friend.” Yoongi justifies, as if that makes it any better.
It's a look of realization that hits you and you watch it in horrification as her smile grows even wider. “Oh, yes! You do look very familiar. You must be Mr. Min's family, right? It's so lovely of you to come here!”
She's kind and clearly enthusiastic, you can't share it with her though. Staring at Yoongi in pure panic, he gives the nurse an unsure smile as he tries to make things clear – which is not like him at all. 
“I'm his brother.”
You would've guessed he would just keep his mouth shut at Yeonseok's mention, not confessing his relation to him at that. 
“Oh, come on then. Let's look at your niece or nephew.”
You close your eyes, ready to facepalm yourself in front of the entire waiting room as you embrace yourself. You're not sure whether you should laugh at the irony or cry in horrification. 
Yoongi presses his lips tight, nodding awkwardly as he glances back at you, giving you the final decision. 
“I'm okay with that.”
Despite the irony and awkwardness of this all, it would feel less lonely to be inside and look at the baby. Not thinking about the entire biology and blood related thing, Yoongi is a family. Whether we are speaking only metaphorically or taking biology into consideration. If he wasn't fine about it, he would say so, right?
You see he's a little unsure as he stands up, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as the nurse ushers you both come in. It's hard to decipher what's going on inside Yoongi's head. One thing's sure and that is he's nowhere in his field. He still walks in the room, trailing slowly behind you as another familiar room welcomes you.
Just as your doctor undoubtedly notices Yoongi's presence as soon as she looks up from the computer's screen. 
“It's Mrs. Min's brother-in-law.” The nurse cheerfully informs your doctor, clearly unaware of how much more awkward she is making it for you two. 
You can't be mad at her though. She doesn't know. Yoongi does send her a glare which causes you to inconspicuously elbow him when none of them are looking. He shrugs. After all, it is his fault he admitted his entire relation to you. If he kept his mouth shut and just went with being just a friend, it would be less awkward than this. 
“It's nice to meet you! Let's look at the baby!” Mrs. Kim, the doctor, says as she stands up and motions for you to lay down. 
Trying to shake off any discomfort, you lay down and look at Yoongi for a split second. He stays at the end of the bed, trying to look around as if watching the scene in front of him would make you entirely uncomfortable. It's not like he hasn't seen every inch of you. 
Rolling up your shirt just as Mrs. Kim sits down on her stool and prepares the lubricant gel, you spot Yoongi giving you a side glance. His eyes suddenly turn into a big size, naturally finding the small but evident bump you just revealed. 
You intertwine your fingers together and put them above your stomach, you try to stay calm. 
“This will get slightly cold, you know the drill, Mrs. Min.” The doctor chuckles, squirting a proper amount of the gel onto your lower stomach.
Your attention is turned elsewhere, away from the man who seems so out of place at the moment. You focus it on the screen next to your head, recognizing the familiar sight and colors. However, this time everything's bigger and more visible which makes your chest tight and eyes tear up. 
Whether it's your hormones or current situation that makes you so emotional, all the pressure suddenly leaves for a moment at the sight of your baby.
“Everything seems to be looking just alright, Mrs. Min,” she informs you with a smile, giving you a quick glance as she moves the scanner around your lower stomach. “Come closer, Mr. Min. Have a look.” she urges him, just like the nurse, completely oblivious to everything. 
Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, almost ready to shake his head but when she turns to him with an encouraging smile, he sighs and comes closer. He leans forward.
“There is the head,” she explains to him just like she did to you and Yeonseok before. “And arms and legs.”
He stares, mouth agape. Straightening himself, he clears his throat and gives her a nervous smile. But it comes out crooked. You almost snort at that.
“The baby is on the smaller side.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you question immediately.
“Not at all, it's not anything abnormal or to be concerned about. It mainly depends on the parents.” she explains, calming you down which makes you sigh in relief. “Would you like to know the gender?”
“You can see that?” you almost jump, seeing her smile curve into a wider one.
“Mhm,” she nods, “It might not be a hundred percent accurate, you're still at fifteen weeks.”
“Wow, well–”
“We can wait for your husband if that's what you prefer.” she assures you, a sour taste coming into your mouth as you look at Yoongi. 
“It's whatever you want.” he reminds you silently, the corner of his lips lifting.
By how things look with Yeonseok, you're not sure if waiting for him has any meaning. Fuck. You don't even know if he wants to be the father. How can you possibly just wait it out?
“We could do it on your next scan, it will be more accurate. But I can see it now and I'm eighty percent sure.”
Nibbling on your lip, you literally say fuck it in your head. “Tell me please.”
She chuckles, “From the looks of it, you're expecting a baby girl, Mrs. Min.”
A chuckle of disbelief and joy escapes your mouth, knowing whatever the answer would be, you would be just as ecstatic. It's just knowing the truth and more information about your baby is enough to make you a crying mess. 
“I'm sorry,” you giggle, putting a palm over your mouth as you smile widely. 
“Congratulations, Mrs. Min.” The doctor and nurse speak at the same time.
“Congrats.” Yoongi says, squeezing your ankle. You bite your lip, giving him a slight nod.
The doctor hands you the wipes and lets you wipe the lubricant off your skin. You're taken back when Yoongi offers you his hand when you sit up.
“We'll just draw your blood to run some tests and you're free to go.”
“Are you happy?” Yoongi asks silently once the doctor and nurse are nearby, but not enough to hear you two. The nurse is preparing the needle while the doctor writes the report to your patient card. 
“I am,” you answer with a smile, “I still would be regardless of the gender.”
“A little girl.” he mutters, zoning out for a second.
“A little girl.” you confirm.
You both stare at each other until the nurse comes back and interrupts you, preparing you to draw your blood. “Are you good with needles and blood, Mr. Min?”
He cocks his brow at her, showing her his tattooed sleeve, popped out veins along with it. She blushes in return. She freaking blushes as she laughs a little. You watch the exchange with a deadpan look. He smirks, cockily shrugging when he notices your stare.
She draws your blood, handing you water after she's done just in case. After everything's done, you schedule another appointment before you're free to go. Happily clutching the printed ultrasound, you put it into your purse to keep it safe once you get inside Yoongi's car. 
You're both silent, again, deep in your thoughts until the replay of what happened just a few minutes ago makes you ask. “Why did you tell her about being Yeonseok's brother?”
“Why? Should I have not?” he questions right back.
“I just didn't expect that. You're not exactly too keen on informing others about your relation to him. It just seemed odd,” you shrug, voicing out your thoughts. “It felt… awkward. Y'know, considering everything.”
Yoongi stays silent, lips in a thin line before he sighs. “I panicked.”
“You panicked?” you ask, laughing a little at that. “Because of what?”
“I don't know!” he exclaims, almost whining which makes you giggle. “She kept asking and I just didn't know what to say. Wouldn't it be weird for me to be there as your friend?”
“Hm, I don't think so,” you answer, “You heard her. Many friends come there. She doesn't have to know we're not friends.”
“Ouch,” he tries to play it off, clutching his chest as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are we not friends?”
“I don't know, you tell me. Bro in law.”
“You did not just call me that.” he cringes, causing you to laugh. 
“You were the one who was adamant of being my brother-in-law instead of a friend.” you remind him cheekily, watching the way he looks away in embarrassment. 
“I panicked.” he mutters rather grumpily causing you to hold your laughter.
After a moment of silence, you look at him again. “Thanks for going there with me. Inside too. It felt nice not having to do that alone.”
“I thought so.” He confesses.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you might feel lonely,”
You're not sure how to feel about that statement.
“And you're welcome.” he says, though his eyes stay on the road, distant and out of reach.
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Delicious smell flows through Yoongi's home as soon as he opens the front door. After he drove you back to his place, he went to work and listened to Jimin's nagging of being a few minutes late. After today, he felt like he could handle anything so Jimin's scolding did nothing to him. Not that it did before but this time, he decided to ignore him instead saying; Well I'm here now.
Jimin, speechless and annoyed, stayed quiet and only shook his head at his boss and friend. What else for him was to do when Yoongi greeted the client and shut the door behind them, hiding from the entire world.
He loves his work. Partly because he's distracted and has no time to think about unnecessary things. Which came handy especially today.
While he was busy working, you don't have much to do. After staring at the scan for a few minutes and dodging your family's calls, you decided to hop into the nearest grocery store. It's been a while since you baked, you prefer cooking but you've been craving something sweet. At least that's what you told yourself, that's the reason why you decided to abuse Yoongi's kitchen. Not because you wanted to do something nice for him, as another thank you for being there for you.
You've no idea if Yoongi even likes cakes.
So when he suddenly appears between his living room and kitchen, at first you have no idea how to explain the slowly disappearing mess that you've tried to clean off before he arrives. 
“I baked bundt cake,” you inform him, palm spreading and pointing straight at the fresh cake where steam still flows into the air. “I hope you like cakes.”
“Cakes are fine,” Yoongi mutters, watching you wipe off his counter right away.
“I'm sorry about the mess, I tried to clean it before you come.”
“'S fine.” he says, still standing in the same spot. He is not sure what to think of this. 
You finish the last traces of any mess, the good smell, you hope, the only sign of baking remaining. 
“Listen,”
You put the kitchen towel back to place, watching him with doe and curious eyes. 
“I was thinking. Maybe you should get your clothes and stuff.”
You stare, Yoongi clearing his throat as he shakes his head.
“I meant from your home. You don't have much clothes here and it must be uncomfortable not having your things with you.”
“Are you asking me to move in, Min Yoongi?” you tease, trying to hide your natural reaction which you're not sure what exactly is. 
He cringes but chuckles, “You're welcome to stay here.” 
You smirk at his diplomatic response before any traces of amusement are gone, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “You're right. I probably should do that. The thing is–”
A sound of a doorbell rings through the apartment, your eyes meeting as soon as the sound reaches your ears. “Are you expecting someone?”
He shakes his head. His friends know better than to come unexpected, even though he wouldn't put it past them. Without saying anything, he leaves with a thoughtful look to get the door. Something sits in your stomach, perhaps feeling like something's bad coming.
You barely finish the thought when you recognize the voice of your husband, rushed and angry footsteps. It happens in a millisecond and he's revealed in the flesh, shoving Yoongi in the chest. 
“Where is she?!” he asks, too upset to notice you first but the shock causes you to yelp in surprise, clutching your chest as you watch Yoongi shoving him back. 
However, Yeonseok doesn't reciprocate as the sound coming from you makes his head snap in your direction. He straightens, shocked to see you here but then it turns into a knowing and pained look.
“Of course you're here,” he exclaims.
“Calm the fuck down.” Yoongi warns him. Yeonseok knows better than to react to that, too immersed in you, seeing you in his brother's kitchen. Eyes moving to the freshly baked bundt cake, the one you baked for him multiple times and that's when you see rage coming back. 
“So you live here now?!” he yells, causing you to flinch as you can't move for some reason. You're frozen, unable to move an inch as you helplessly watch the scene in front of you. “Playing a happy family with the man that knocked you up?”
“Someone had to when you couldn't.” Yoongi snaps, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your palm slap against it, eyes fully wide.
Yeonseok lashes at his brother while you watch in horror as Yoongi is being pushed roughly into the wall.
“Stop!” you yell at your husband, already knowing where this is going. “I came to him! It's not his fault!”
“No, but he welcomed you with open arms, didn't he?” he seethes, clutching Yoongi's shirt in his fists as he throws you a nasty glare. “Waiting for this moment to piss me off and get back at me.”
You don't bother explaining to him that no, it didn't happen like that and from what you can clearly remember, he wasn't too keen on getting himself involved. Whatever it is, he still helped you in the end and that's what upsets Yeonseok. 
“Yeonseok, listen to him,” you grit through your teeth, stepping closer as he refuses to look at you now that you're closer. “I had nowhere to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells, Yoongi growling at him for raising his voice as Yeonseok only tightens his hold. “Tell me one reason why I shouldn't knock your teeth out right now.”
He is a maniac. Yoongi is a fucking maniac because he laughs in Yeonseok's face, not exactly fighting his hold as if the thought of Yeonseok coming even close to getting violent is a joke itself. Perhaps it is. You've never seen Yeonseok fighting or getting violent. You don't like it. 
“Do it, if it makes you feel better.” Yoongi prompts him with a grin, another gasp yet leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi!”
Yeonseok growls at his brother, throwing Yoongi more into the wall as you cringe at the impact. However, the said man looks unbothered and completely loosen up, showing no resistance. This whole I don't care attitude just pisses Yeonseok even more, prompts him to act violent and upon his anger.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you, huh?!” he yells in his face. Yoongi only scoffs, looking sideways to shield himself from Yeonseok's loud voice hitting him right in the face. “Having my wife in this scrappy place of yours–you've waited for this opportunity.”
Yoongi scoffs, finding Yeonseok's accusation nothing but funny. “The wife you couldn't respect the moment she wanted to break-up.”
Yeonseok's mouth opens in a mild shock, his gaze momentarily falling on you as he stares in utter disbelief. You know how it seems. It's not hard to think what Yeonseok's thinking right now. His assumptions are proved right in his slightly hazy mind. It's not helping with his anger and pain at all. He thinks you really spilled everything to Yoongi. And while you were honest with his brother, it wasn't for some vile reason to hurt Yeonseok. You had to talk to someone and Yoongi would get it. He knows your situation. 
“Aren't you two just lovebirds?”
“Yeonseok–” You sigh, exhaustion prominent on your face and voice. 
“S–” He lifts his hand up to stop you. “Shut up.”
His audacity and the fact he has never spoken to you that way leaves you speechless. You're not able to react but there's barely any time to as Yeonseok seems unhinged, seeing red. 
“Have you fucked her again? Huh? Have you enjoyed fucking her when she's still my wife? We were supposed to be a family. You ruined it.”
“You're delusional if you think I ruined your family.” Yoongi argues, scoffing once again as Yeonseok grunts and pushes him into the wall. 
“Yeonseok, that's a serious accusation. I told you, I came here because I had nowhere else to go.”
“Bullshit!” he yells at you, spits of anger landing in front you as you frown. 
“If you just let me explain–we need to talk. We could still be a family, it's you who said–”
“I know what I said Y/N,” Yeonseok cuts you off, voice angered and powerful. “But I knew you would come running to this–” He looks in pure disgust at Yoongi who only lifts his brow at him. 
“You would what?” Yoongi pushes, “You would want a single mother?”
Yeonseok's face twists in another sign of betrayal and turns into anger. “And you would want her? Is that what you're saying? Take her then. Not so cocky right now, huh?”
Yoongi pushes into him, silently warning Yeonseok to keep his mouth shut. There's nothing you can physically do. You can barely move, watching and listening to the words closely as your heart cracks with each spiteful word your husband says. It's the shock of hearing him talking about and with you like that.
You're not innocent in this at all, but this could've been talked about when everyone's calmed down. Actually, Yoongi shouldn't even be a part of it. Whatever is talked about should be kept between you and Yeonseok. Yet again, you're reminded that Yoongi is currently in this position because of you and your mistake of coming to him. 
“You can't be a father, Yoongi,” Yeonseok mocks him, “You just wanted her for a good fuck, is that it? You wanted to get back to me because you're a pathetic brother just as much as you're a pathetic son.”
“Yeonsoek, that's enough!” you yell, no longer keeping quiet but he ignores you, continuing to spit venom in Yoongi's neutral face.
“Try raising my kid–since you so much helped making it.”
You gasp, face twisting into a glare that's shooting at Yeonseok's back.
“Your kid?” Yoongi laughs.
“Yes, my kid.” Is the one argument Yeonseok doesn't let off. 
“Let's see who the kid resembles when they're born.”
And that's the final line Yoongi gets to say with a smirk on his face, completely provoking Yeonseok to the core as he can no longer stand it. He growls before a punch is thrown at Yoongi's face, causing him to almost slide off the way. He catches himself and while you yelp, hands covering your mouth in a pure shock even though you should see it coming. You've never thought you would witness such a violence, let alone a fight shared between two brothers. 
They've never had a good relationship. Though, you never expected them to come to the point where they actually fight. 
Yoongi straightens himself, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth to wipe off a droplet of blood that is a result of Yeonseok's fists. Everything is silent for a second, besides the harsh breaths coming from Yeonseok's angered state and Yoongi's calm breathing. For a split second, you think everything ended. Literally.
But you would be delusional to think otherwise, to think they're done. Because one second you see Yoongi staring deadly at Yeonseok and before the older brother can react, Yoongi's fist meets Yeonseok's jaw in a loud crack, causing him to stumble into the kitchen counter. You gasp, yelling Yoongi's name as you try to catch Yeonseok, so he doesn't hit the edge of the counter. He shakes you off the moment you get to barely touch him, almost as if you burned him.
Frowning, you step aside. 
“That's for every second you've disrespected her since you came here,” Yoongi spits at his brother, shaking his fist and bloody knuckles.
Yeonseok's too busy holding up his bloody nose. The sight makes your stomach churn, both in disgust and worry.
“And you fucking know you deserve much more.”
Yeonseok's eyes shut in pain, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off it. You watch it stain Yoongi's floor and you immediately cringe at the sight. 
He would have a lot to say, preferably arguing back to Yoongi that it could be an endless fight. This has to end. 
Yeonseok is barely in pain, holding himself bravely though as he straightens himself and stares at Yoongi before he moves it at you. “Fuck both of you.”
He storms out of the apartment, leaving not only a mess on Yoongi's kitchen floor and face, but in your heart too. 
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You're met with a warning glare the moment you press a little too hard. Though, the man in front of you remains silent as none of you dare to speak up. The cake is long forgotten, destined to be thrown away like most things in your life. Besides the blood still covering Yoongi's floor – even if it's just a few droplets – you've moved to his bathroom to take care of his wounds.
He argued not to but you insisted, throwing him a warning glare that made him agree.
“Are you okay?” he speaks up, breaking the silence as you toss away the disinfected cotton wool into the bin.
“Do I seem okay?” you question him, “What were you thinking, Yoongi?” you scold him, frowning once again as he opens his mouth before his own frown settles on his back then calm face. 
“What was I thinking? I'm not the one who barged in here to pick up a fight.”
“You provoked him to hit you, don't tell me otherwise.”
“I won't let him speak to me or to you that way in my home.”
That's a valid point. 
Yet you can't stop thinking that all of this could've been avoided if he just wouldn't provoke him. 
“Yeonseok is not violent, he wouldn't have hit you if you kept your mouth shut.”
“So I'm the bad guy here?” Yoongi exclaims, closing his eyes as he rubs his forehead for a second. “He had it coming and I don't regret it.”
“Yoongi–”
“No. Maybe you're okay with him slutshaming and disrespecting you, but I'm not. I'm not gonna stand there and run his mouth just because he's a fucking pussy.”
“I'm not saying–I get that. But you literally pull on his infertility. That wasn't fair nor nice, Yoongi.”
Yoongi sighs, staring at the ceiling to calm himself down. “That might be right. Wasn't exactly fair, but at that moment I didn't care. And looking at it now, I don't care now either.”
You stare at him in disappointment and sadness, leaning yourself against the sink as you hug yourself with your shaky arms. 
Yoongi watches you, gaze softening. “I'm not perfect either, Y/N. I'm far from it actually.”
“I'm not okay with what he said either. But you don't see me hitting him.”
“He hit me first.”
“Yes, because you provoked him to. And you fucking know it!”
Yoongi stares before an amused smirk makes it on his face. 
“Don't fucking look so pleased!” 
He laughs, shaking his head before his smile slowly drops and you're met with soft eyes again. 
“He would've left if we just–I don't know–but I'm sure there could've been no violence. He's hurt, Yoongi. I left him because I was no longer happy in that marriage. He's heartbroken.”
“Are you making excuses for him?”
“No!” you automatically argue.
“Sure sounds like it.” Yoongi scoffs.
You groan, rubbing the side of your face in frustration. 
“You're here scolding me and raising your voice when he came here and insulted not just me, but you too. And you're still trying to understand him?”
“It's because I know why he feels like that! It doesn't mean it's right! This could've gone so differently–and you just kept going. I told you guys to stop–but you ignored me and provoked him–” You stop yourself, staring at Yoongi who just stands in the middle of his bathroom watching you silently. His brows lift up causing you to sigh in defeat. “I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you because you're here.”
Yoongi stays silent for a moment, letting you drown in your frustration and regret. His point is proven, he has nothing else to say. 
“Obviously I know he's not right either. What he did was stupid–he already came here angry and to see me here–” You sigh, sniffling a little as you turn around to grip the sink. You breathe through the urge to cry and break in front of Yoongi. “I know we talked about this but I should've never come here. This would not happen if I wasn't here.”
“Stop,” he stops you. Lifting up your gaze, you meet his eyes in the reflection of his mirror. “It's not your fault he acted like an asshole.”
“Yoongi, but in a way I provoked him too by coming here. By staying here.”
“That's messed up to think that,” he still argues back. “You know why you came here. Come on, we talked about this. Stop putting more blame onto yourself. He doesn't do it and you shouldn't either.”
“Because I know what I am saying is the truth.”
“It's your truth,” Yoongi points out, walking closer to you. “Know what I'm sayin'?”
You sniffle, “No.”
He laughs silently, eyes crinkling at the ends as his teeth are on full display. He turns you around by gently gripping onto your shoulder. You're stubborn, not wanting to face him as he nudges your chin to look up at him. His thumbs brushes underneath your eyes, preventing the tears sliding down your cheeks. 
“You know, you're just stubborn.” he muses amusingly and softly, just like his sound is. “Now I'm going to wipe the mess in the kitchen and will make us some tea.”
You stare at him in disbelief, seeing him taking a few steps away from you. He turns his back to you, ready to walk out. But he stops in his tracks. 
“And Y/N?”
You look at him with watery eyes. 
“Don't think of running away.”
It's a simple sentence, a tiny bit teasing on his part and you barely manage to break a smile. He does not stay for any longer, taking care of the mess in his kitchen just like he said he would.
When you join him, you see him wiping the last remains of your husband's blood before his kitchen is just as new. Yoongi tells you to sit on the couch and turn on a movie. You don't argue even though watching a movie is the last thing on your wishlist. He joins you shortly after. The bundt cake sliced neatly on a plate, accompanied with two cups of tea. He munches on the cake throughout the movie, even offers you to eat but you shake your head at him, declining his offer. 
He manages to eat all the slices, handing you a blanket when he sees you hugging yourself. 
“Yoongi?” you speak silently throughout the movie. 
“Hm?” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
The side of your face pressed against the couch, you stare up at him. “For everything.”
“Are you getting sentimental for me?” he muses, turning it into fun and you realize, you prefer it that way. It loosens up the entire moment and situation, even if just a little bit.
“No, just thankful. I know it sounded like I blamed you, it was wrong of me. You were just here and I let my frustration out on you.”
He smiles, shaking his head as if silently telling you to let it go. “I told you I'm not perfect. I am to be blamed for a lot of things. But I don't regret it.”
“Even if your knuckles are cracked?”
A silent laugh comes from the side. “They're not fully cracked but yeah, even then.”
For the first time after the fight, you let a laugh out of yourself as well.
“Come on, you should go to bed. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“Talk about it?” you question, swallowing down a yawn that wants to let out. He's right. You're tired and should go to bed. 
“The clothes, you need to get them. I will go with you.”
You sit up, hair a little bit ruffled which makes Yoongi stifle back a laugh. “You will? You sure?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” 
He doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you to interact with Yeonseok, just in case he's there. Considering how shaken up you're from their interaction earlier, and yours too, you shouldn't go through that alone. You're pregnant for fuck sake. You've been through a lot while carrying a fucking human inside of you. That shit is mental.
He makes it sound easy, so easy that you just as easily agree and stand up to move to the bedroom. You linger at the edge of the couch, thinking about still having to change your clothes and take a quick shower. 
“It's probably weird, especially after Yeonseok's outburst but you should sleep in the bedroom tonight as well.”
“Don't listen to him,” he says simply, “But are you sure though?”
“Yeah, I don't mind.” you repeat his earlier words, smiling at it which causes him to chuckle at your slight teasing. 
“Fine, my back will thank you tomorrow.”
Laughing, you retrieve to the bedroom to get your sleeping clothes that consist of Yoongi's oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. God, you really need your own clothes.
While you're in the shower, Yoongi lets the movie continue without actually paying any attention to it. His knuckles slightly burn, the skin there trying to heal. A side of his jaw hurts but knowing Yeonseok's in a worse state makes it better. It's a little bit childish, he admits that but that asshole deserved it. He thinks he can just punch him and not expect a punch back? 
His parents would curse the shit out of him. Regardless if Yeonseok was the first one to attack, Yoongi would be painted as the one that's violent because he fought back. Fuck. He can already hear their potential words so clearly.
You shouldn't have fought back.
It's your fault he's angry.
They've always seen him in a bad light. Partly, he doesn't blame them. He's always been more controversial and wild than his brother. The thing is it wasn't accepted in the family and was approached with a massive hit of criticism and negativity. Partly, Yoongi blames them for how he turned out. 
Reaching for his phone, he dials Jimin's number without a second thought. He had enough time to think this through and know that he promised something, he can't change it. He would look like a total asshole. Plus, he doesn't want to change it. Somehow, you've grown to like him. It's embarrassing to admit, but seeing you in such a poor state makes him pity you. You would hate him for these thoughts, that much he knows. 
“Bro, it's like night.” Jimin accepts the call with a scolding tone.
“I need you to take tomorrow's appointments.”
“Why? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, tone changing to a confused one. Yoongi has never canceled any of his appointments. A part of keeping his business good and professional, he always dedicated all of his time there. He's not surprised by Jimin's confusion.
“Yeah, I just have some errands to run and I won't be able to be there for a whole day.” He gives a brief explanation, not giving any details. 
It's not like he doesn't want to share. Even though he's not a sharing type and keeps stuff to himself, he doesn't see any point in sharing a huge portion of your mess that is called life. It just doesn't seem fair at all.
“Dude, everyone's gonna be mad. They want you, you know that!” Jimin argues, panicking which is understandable. 
Yoongi doesn't brag about it, but he knows most clients come to him for their tattoos specifically. Everyone in his team is good, he doesn't doubt it. But even they know how some people come to the studio specifically for Yoongi. 
“I can't reschedule them, I'm fully packed.”
“Duh, I know that! What are you even doing Yoongi?”
“None of your business,” Yoongi answers calmly and casually, causing his friend to groan loudly into the receiver. “Just do it. If they don't wanna get tattooed, just give them back their deposit. Or reschedule their appointments, though they might wait months.”
“This better be worth it.” He hears him mumble.
“It's a family emergency.” It's the only explanation Yoongi offers him.
“Family? You don't care about your family.” Jimin points out the obvious, causing Yoongi to purse his lips slightly offended. 
It's not like he doesn't care about them. Sure, he seems like it but it's not exactly the truth. He doesn't blame Jimin for thinking it though. He made it seem and obvious as if he doesn't care about them. In some fucked up twisted way, he does. 
“Thanks, I owe you.” Yoongi ignores his previous words, not putting them any more attention than he already did by listening to them. 
“You bet…” Jimin mutters under his breath, not having enough time to complain as his kind friend ends the call with that.
Later after he takes a shower while you're already in bed, he joins you. He thinks you're asleep but by the sound of your breathing and fidgeting, you're still awake.
“Can't sleep?”
You flinch a little, probably surprised by his sudden voice and the fact he's aware of you being awake. “It's the baby.”
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asks right away without thinking of it. He lays back, clearing his throat as he stares at the plain ceiling instead. The entire bedroom is swallowed in darkness, letting only moonlight in. He has noticed you prefer sleeping that way and he doesn't have the heart to close curtains. 
“No,” you giggle, “She's just moving a lot. Sometimes even kicks me.”
“She… she does?” Yoongi asks, unsure. He has zero knowledge about babies. Let alone how it properly works inside a woman's uterus. It's pretty laughable because he's that clueless.
“Yeah, probably won't let me sleep for a while.”
“What a brat.” Yoongi mutters and you gasp, elbowing his side as he cackles at you. 
“You did not just say that,” you exclaim, offended as he continues to laugh silently under his breath. “She's been an active baby lately.” 
You've no idea why you're even telling him that. Something just wants you to fill up the sentence. You and him don't talk about the baby a lot. It seems like a taboo topic for understandable reasons and that's solely for not making it too weird.
Yoongi's quiet and while your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you can clearly see him fully awake with eyes open, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. You turn to your side, hissing when you feel a light kick in your ribs coming from inside.
“What are you thinking about?”
He doesn't look like he wants to answer, something holding him back. But then he probably seems awkward enough so he swallows, shrugging.
“My mom always said I moved a lot and shit like that. You know–like when she was pregnant.”
The hint of something that has been secretive but very obvious to you from the start causes your breath to catch in your throat. You've never openly talked about the baby being biologically Yoongi's. It's not something you can forget and despite not talking about it, you've been thinking about it almost all the time.
“Oh…”
“Yeah…” he mutters. “Is that weird shit to say?”
“It's not weird,” you assure him softly. Kind of. “I actually find it interesting. If it… if it was a stranger I probably wouldn't know these things.”
“Forget about it, I was just babbling. It just reminded me of that when you said…”
“It's okay, Yoongi.” You laugh at that, feeling his embarrassment. It's practically seeping from him. “Thank you for that. I mean–I'm grateful for that information. Is that a weird thing to say?”
“No, unless we make it weird.” he states, voice different from the usual laid back Yoongi you know. It's kind of cute.
“Okay, let's not make it weird. Let's talk about something else.”
“Talk? You should sleep.”
“I can't when she's moving around so much.” you argue.
It's silent for a moment.
“Does… does it hurt?”
“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “But not so much yet. It probably will get worse once she's bigger.”
“God, why do women go through that?” he mumbles, causing you to snort.
“If your mother didn't go through that, you wouldn't be here.”
“What a lovely life that would be.” he hums thoughtlessly, while you choke back onto your laughter.
“Don't say that!” you scold him. “None of us have asked to be here.” 
“True.”
Again, a little awkward silence is shared between you. Well, you're not sure it's purely awkward but you're both fully awake, not ready to fall asleep just yet. You don't know about Yoongi but…
You groan when the little baby growing inside you starts to move around again. You caress your stomach, feeling as if she has a hiccup. “I think she has a hiccup.”
He probably doesn't care, but you share that thought out loud. 
“You can feel that?” He sounds confused.
“Yeah,” you nod. “You wanna feel it?”
He stays silent. And for a second, you're sure you've crossed a line and he will just go backwards, distancing from you and the entire situation. 
Indeed, Yoongi feels a little awkward about your question. He has distanced himself, not wanting to admit the fact that you're indeed carrying a baby he helped conceive. It's a weird shit to think about. He can't think about it because it automatically makes him feel uncomfortable. He never had a plan to stay in contact with you. 
He would never imagine sharing a bed with you, unless it was for a sex. And you had lots of it. Maybe not as much as he wanted but still. 
If he knew you would be laying in his bed pregnant, he would probably never agree to this. As bad as it sounds. 
This scares him.
But then he thinks of you and your perspective. He has no idea what your thoughts are, well some of them. But something about your innocent and sweet tone makes him rethink. You're here, after an awful day, not crying like he has expected you to do. He sees the light in your tone, one that's caused by the baby growing inside you. You're trying to be friendly, having just as friendly a conversation and Yoongi realizes – he's that for you. 
A friend. 
You need a friend. You've no one else to talk about it, not currently at least. You've distanced yourself from everyone else for understandable reasons, and he can relate to that.
“Won't that be awkward?” he questions. 
“Not unless you make it to be.” you hit him back with his own words, the fact causing his mouth to twitch. 
“Okay, sure. It's a one time experience anyway.”
You snort, “You make it sound as if you won't ever meet a pregnant lady.”
“I've met a few but never had an urge to touch their belly. That shit's weird.”
Giggling, you shake your head at him. “Maybe in the future, you will.”
“Future?” he asks, completely confused. 
“Maybe if you're gonna have a wife or a girlfriend.” you say, slightly unsure of this topic. Is it okay for you to talk about this? Either way, it's too late to not answer his question anyway. 
After all, this specific topic shouldn't be weird.
“I don't want kids,” he informs you, carefully but sternly at the same time. “So that's not happening.”
Sighing, you don't argue about that. If he accidentally gets someone pregnant, he won't be able to control that aspect but you don't remind him of that. He seems stubborn and determined about this opinion of his. And you respect it.
It's silly and you shouldn't have the right to feel this way, but you feel slightly saddened that he's so keen on telling you he doesn't want kids. Even though you've known that for a long time. It's a reminder that he does not want to have anything to do with the baby inside you. It's nothing new but somehow that thought still doesn't sit with you well. 
Instead, you swallow all those feelings and take the duvet off your body. 
“Whatever,” you murmur nonchalantly. “Give me your hand.”
He does, without question. You try not to think about how warm and big his hand feels. You ignore the little fluttering butterflies that set in the pit of your stomach and inside your chest. Your baby is not to be blamed for. 
You move his hand on your stomach but not before pulling up your shirt. You're starting to feel too warm anyway. This way he'll be able to tell the movements more clearly. 
“You feel it?” you ask, holding his hand as soon as it's placed over your swollen stomach.
“No? I ain't feel shit.”
You giggle, “You're an ass.” 
But then, a sudden kick is sent next to Yoongi's hand. It wasn't a direct move under his palm but he had to feel it regardless. A surprised Oh makes it out of his mouth.
“That's so weird,” he mumbles thoughtfully. 
Then she continues again, her little movements more recognizable and becoming slowly familiar to the man laying next to you. 
“She's so active.”
“She is,” you hum, slowly letting go of his hands. He lets it rest there for a moment, taking the cue as he pulls it away slowly. “Could let me sleep now though.” You try to play it cool and calm down your racing heart. 
Pulling the shirt back down and covering yourself with the duvet, you're trying to act cool like before. 
“Wow,” Yoongi says, taken back. “It's weird to think there's another person inside you.”
“Tell me something about it,” you chuckle. “I've wanted to get pregnant for a long time. But nothing could've prepared me for the way it feels. It's weird, I can't describe it.”
He surely can't understand what you're talking about. You don't want him to. You just let your thoughts run free. Some part of you wants to confess those thoughts to Yoongi. Another weird thing to say, but he's like a safe place in a twisted way. You can be honest, even though you're slightly sheepish about it. You can confide in him.
You think he has no idea what he means to you. And even if it's just for a certain time being, you're grateful for it regardless. 
Before you know it, the movements stop and you're finally allowed the tiredness to come in. You slowly drift to sleep, clueless to Yoongi being fully awake as he stares at the ceiling with the weirdest feeling all over his body. 
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It's not as if morning is any better. Surprisingly, you haven't had that much trouble sleeping and you barely woke up. Yeonseok hasn't haunted you in your dreams either, which made it more enjoyable and comfortable. You were too exhausted last night, so a good sleep made it better for you to see today's morning in a better light. 
Yoongi's still asleep, his alarm hasn't ringed yet and you wondered if you should wake him up. Maybe he forgot to set up his alarm, but something tells you that's very unlikely. 
After you've washed your face and teeth, you decided to give him a few minutes and will try to wake him in case he has really slept in. However, the aftermath of yesterday's events and your good sleep, a cause of your positivism, doesn't last too long when your phone rings. 
At first, you don't think much of it. Your father calls you from time to time, he has to when you suddenly go silent. Using busyness as a great excuse when you've been anything but that. He doesn't know that which makes the lie more believable. 
As you get to hear his raspy voice again, you expect him to start the same way.
How are you? 
Why haven't you called?
But none of that comes as he sounds nothing but concerned, even a little skeptic.
“Y/N, is everything okay with you?”
That alone should alarm you and it does, but you remain cool and voice your confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn't I be?”
“Don't lie. What's happening there?”
He doesn't sound upset, he sounds more worried than anything else. “What do you mean? I'm fine.”
“Really? Because Yeonseok called us yesterday, well today, he kept saying something about you sleeping with his brother?”
You freeze, shame washing over you like the coldest bucket of ice.
“Is that true?”
“Dad, I promise you–It's nothing like that.” 
Perfect. Thanks Yeonseok a lot.
“He was also wasted, could barely talk. Called us like two in the morning.”
Sighing, you sit down as you grip your phone tighter. It seems like you can't have a rest for at least one day. Everything keeps biting you in your ass when you think things are getting better. It fucking sucks. 
“We're going through a rough patch right now.”
“And you broke up with him?”
“I–technically yes but it wasn't like that. I promise you, it's nothing like that.” you telling, aiming at Yeonseok's accusation that might not be a complete lie but you know how it sounds. 
“Then how is it?”
“Dad, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry Yeonseok woke you and Barbara,” you say, mentioning his longtime girlfriend who's like your step-mom. You know she's just as worried. You're surprised she's not the one that called. “He has a hard time dealing with our break-up.”
“He said you're staying at his brother's, is that true?”
One thing about your father is that he never really got into your business. If he was curious or even nosy, he never let it known because he respected everyone's space and privacy. So to have him question you like this means he's truly worried and the call he received from your still husband has made him alarmed. 
“Yes–”
“So it's true? Y/N, have you cheated on him?”
“God, no!” You exclaim loudly, taking a deep breath as you release it in a form of loud sigh. Technically you haven't. “I haven't cheated on anyone. Look, it's really complicated. I had nowhere else to go.”
“Nowhere else to go? You could've come here.”
You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “I know but I didn't wanna bother you with our issues. Yoongi is familiar with it, so I just decided to come here. It's just for a few nights, I will figure it out. Don't worry.”
“How can I not worry when I found out from my son-in-law that you're not living at home? And that you live with his brother instead?”
“He's not exactly the perfect husband you have him for, dad.”
“What do you mean by that? Did he hurt you?”
“Not like that,” You shake your head. “I had a share on it too. None of us are innocent. Look, all you have to know for now is that I'm okay. I need to figure this out on my own. You've nothing to worry about.”
“You can't just tell me you live somewhere else with Yeonseok's brother, and tell me not to worry!”
“Listen, dad. I love you but I'm very close to hanging up. I understand you're worried but you're not exactly helping me with freaking out. I told you I'm fine, so please trust your daughter instead. I'll handle it and I'll talk about it when I'm ready.”
Well, you're not sure if you should tell him the entire truth. The thought of that is embarrassing and completely uncomfortable. You're not going to tell your dad that you've slept with another man just to get pregnant. Even if Yeonseok agreed to it. 
Overall, you would spare him the details. 
“But you're pregnant. You're carrying his child. You can't just leave and not talk to him.”
“Oh, I talked to him. He's not as interested in being a father as he was.”
“What?!” He yells into the phone, causing you to cringe at his shocked and upset tone. “He said that?!”
“Along the lines,” you mumble, “Don't worry, I'm doing fine. So is your granddaughter.” 
“G-granddaughter?”
That finally gets his mind off Yeonseok. “Yes. I had it confirmed yesterday.”
He sighs, chuckling on the other line. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Y/N–”
“Dad–please.” 
He sighs in defeat. “Okay. But promise me you'll call if you need something.”
“I always will, dad. Please don't worry.”
Eventually, you end the call. Just as your phone is being tossed onto the counter, Yoongi sleepily steps into the kitchen with bed hair and narrowed eyes. “Why were you yelling?”
“It's nothing.”
“Y/N…” Yoongi warns, narrowing his eyes through his tiredness.
“It was my dad. Yeonseok called him drunk last night.”
“Fuck,” That has him waking up as he stares you down. “What did he say?”
“That I cheated and I'm staying at your place.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Not much,�� you admit, “I don't want him to worry.”
“He's a fucking idiot.”
“Yoongi…”
“No, he is.” He insists, rubbing his chest tiredly as anger twists his puffy face. He looks cute, even with the tattooed sleeve that's on full display. 
“He was drunk,” you point out. “Surely angry and upset.”
“I'm surprised he didn't run to mommy and daddy.”
“Shit,” you exclaim. “What if he did?”
“Would it matter?” Yoongi questions.
You stare at him as if he grew two heads. “Of course! What would they think of me?”
“You really care about that?”
“If he told them the story that I cheated on him with you, I do care!”
Yoongi sighs, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his chest. “We know it's not the truth. Not exactly. And we will explain that to them if it ever came down to it.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is,” he argues. “And there's no need for you to worry about it too much, alright?”
You give him Really? Look.
“If he called your dad, I really doubt he got our parents involved. Knowing them, they would call or barge in here right away.”
“You think?”
“Oh, I know.” he hums. “So don't worry and get yourself ready.”
That's right. You're supposed to get your clothes today. But you thought it'll be later on, probably when he gets back from work or over his lunchtime. You just need to get your things. It shouldn't take too long. 
“Are you not going to work today?”
“No, I have a day off.”
“Really? You never mentioned anything about having a day off.” you wonder, staring at him straightening himself as he stretches his arms, shrugging.
“Didn't think it's important.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “What if he's there?”
Yoongi watches you for a moment, “That's why I'm going with you.”
“I think that will piss him even more if he sees you there.”
“Should I not come?”
You shake your head, “That's not what I meant. I just–I don't know what's right or not anymore.”
“It's true, maybe he wouldn't get so angry but there's no guarantee he won't get verbal again. I just don't think you should go through that alone.”
Something about his words make your chest warm, an appreciative smile beaming on your lips but you shake yourself out of it as a smirk replaces it. “Are you starting to care about me?”
What you get in return is a mixture of a chuckle and smirk. “I'm serious, Y/N,” he says, more seriously. “I'm going just in case he needs another punch.”
“Please, don't say that.” Your smile drops. 
“I can't promise anything but I'll try to be on my best behavior.”
“Somehow, that doesn't go along with you.” you tell him with suspicious eyes as he smirks. 
“You're gonna have to wait and see.”
“No fights.” you warn him, lifting up your finger at him to make yourself clear. 
“Okay, mom.”
“Ew.” you cringe, walking past him but not before slapping his chest. “Keep it down.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
You walk back into the bedroom, to change your clothes and get yourself ready with an unbelievable smile on your face. You fight the sheets neat and made, a fresh air filling the bedroom that has become too familiar to you. 
With a lighter feeling in your chest, you prepare yourself for what's about to come.
1K notes · View notes
lostberet · 1 month
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꒰‧₊˚🍊☆༉‧₊˚. ROLL & DICE
Your parents never approved of your boyfriend. Your dad loves his car, your boyfriend loves to win, and you love to celebrate his victories.
✒ pair. min yoongi x fem!reader ↪ tags. smut racer boyfriend!yoongi, established relationship, racer au, inspired by fast and furious kinda, ODETARI inspired, slight age gap (reader is 19, yoongi is 22). plot. Your boyfriend takes you to a car meet, in which he is racing. After winning the race, you guys ditch to celebrate between yourselves. cw. smut, car sex, parking lot sex car (public sex?), racing, reader gets a bit scared at how fast it goes, dirty talk, yoongi referring to reader as a princess, hoseok calls reader mama, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), hand kink, choking kink, spanking, big!dick!yoongi because he is, creampie. english is not my first lenguage, if i missed anything, let me know a/n. I am literally so in love with yoongi, I love him so much, he is my man he just so- UGH, I bite my pillow whenever I see anything relating to Yoongi, I'm so obsessed. Anyways, enjoy, comment and reblog! chiao!
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masterlist || entry ||
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It was noisy, stinky and slutty.
Your boyfriend's hand tested on your hip, holding you close to him as both of you leaned on the hood of his Dark Blue Mustang, the orange LED lights under the car lighting your feet. You wore a jean mini skirt, pink plump heels, and a tank top that also matched the pink of your heels. Your closet sure was more brighter than your boyfriend's who only wore a baggy black sweats and an oversized black t-shirt. You wore gold jewelry, he wore silver. Yoongi eyed the crowed before turning to look at you, leaning in to whisper in your ear before being interrupted by a loud greeting.
"Yo mama looks good today, Agust D, how'd you been?" A man with a heart-shaped smile walked over as he greeted Yoongi with a hug and a pat on his back, "Smile Hoya!" Yoongi greeted back, turning to look at you and extending his arm towards you, "My woman always looks great."
You accepted Yoongi's hand, smiling at his friend, "Thanks for having me tonight, Smile Hoya" Smile Hoya just waved his hand, for his street style, he sure looked very bright, "Call me Hobi, you're my main guy's girl."
You only smiled, hiding your face on your boyfriend's shoulder while Hobi turned to Yoongi, "Better not lose tonight, got thousands on this baby right here." Hobi stated while he patted the Mustang's hood.
Yoongi only rolled his eyes, "I never lose, Smiles." Hobi, swinging his index finger in the air, "Not with Kai in the house." Turning his whole body towards you, Yoongi hugged your waist, looking down at you, "She's my lucky charm tonight and always." And with a final laugh, Hobi left the two of you alone.
"Shut up, D." You teased before leaning in and pecking his lips. Yoongi only pocked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, "If I win, can I have this?" He asked before slapping your ass, causing your to jerk up. You let out a laugh and smacked his chest, pulling away from him, "Sure you can, only if you win."
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"Engines ready!" Yelled a blonde, her bikini top was loose and her shorts were down a bit to where her pink thong was displayed. You looked at Yoongi as he prepared himself, checking the mirrors and losing his nerves. You chuckled a bit before looking in front. The blonde removed her bikini top, displaying her breast. Your jaw dropped as you let out a breathy laugh. You still couldn't get used to this stuff.
"Yours are way prettier, princess." Yoongi teased as he gazed his eyes down on the ground right in front of the blonde's feet. You softly hit Yoongi's arm, which he only laughed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he stepped on the handle, letting the Mustang roar. His head turned to his left, where Kai was, his windows rolled down as he sent Yoongi a friendly raise of his hand, Yoongi only nodded once at him.
"Ready.." The blonde echoed once more, eyeing the crowd as they cheered, "Get Set," She commented as she raised her yellow bikini top. You felt your anxiety kick in as you rubbed your hands on your thighs. "Go!" The moment the blonde threw the bikini top on the ground, Yoongi stepped on the paddle, sending the car in motion. Your body pressed back on the seat, Yoongi played with the paddle as he drove the car, smirking as he noticed Kai being left only a few feet behind.
Yoongi reached over towards you and grabbed the walky-talky from your lap, "Smiles, tell me where to go." The other line fell silent before Hobi's cheery voice came on, cheers could be heard in the background, "Turn right into Avenue Street, and you'll get into the highway all down to Washington."
"Thanks, bud, see you at the finish line." Yoongi echoed before throwing the walky-talky behind on the seats and making a sharp turn to the right on Avenue Street. "The Highway??" You asked, holding onto the seat under you, "they cleared the highway up, princess." You frowned your brows a bit, "uh, yoongi.. that's illegal.." Yoongi only let out a deep chuckle, "I know."
Getting into the highway, yoongi changed the handle, causing the car to speed further, noticing Kai catching up. It all seemed to be going well until Hobi's voice echoed on the eat behind him, "D, police noticed the blockage, change of route." Yoongi breathed out a cuss, "princess, can you get the talky for me?" You nodded and turned your body, bending over the small space to grab the talky.
"Nice ass. You wore those cute undies i like?" Yoongi commented, making you turn faster than the speed of light, your face flushed, "you perv.." you huffed as you handed him the talky. Yoongi only grinned before replaying to Hobi, "if the police appear on my ass, we're splitting the money 75 to 25." Yoongi warned, causing the other line to laugh. "If they appear, you just gotta lose them, old pal."
Turning down the highway into a curvy road, Yoongi felt his heart stop, seeing the police car parked. Unable to do anything, he shook his head and continued down the road, causing the police siren to go off. You looked behind you to see the bright blue and red lights, "Seat belt, princess, we've talked about this" You nodded and quickly put on your seatbelt.
The speed of the car made you feel as if you were floating, an interestingly terrifying feeling. You gulped as you felt the sharp turns, "Yoongi.." you whispered, his hand holding yours that clenched your skirt, "You're okay, princess, I'm here."
On the right, Kai sped up, making a right turn to leave the highway and find another route. Yoongi mentally praised the guy. Yoongi had memorized all the streets in the city, that's what every great street racer does, always be prepared. Yoongi grabbed the talky, "Hobi, prepare that finish line, imma lose this shitty cop." Changing the speed, your boyfriend drove towards an exit, going into smaller streets, it was dangerous, but at least he'd lose the cop.
Running through some neighborhoods and allies, Yoongi was able to lose the cop, lightly rubbing your thigh, "see, lost 'em." You only let out a soft laugh, taking a breath in. Hopping back into the right route, Yoongi eyed each enterence, knowing Kai would pop out. As if calculated, Yoongi shifted a lane, Kai appearing beside him, "fucking dick."
The cars were neck to neck, and the sound of the engine echoed in your ears as you gripped the seat, closing your eyes. Yoongi eyed the car next to him, his brows frowning. He could tell from the multiple colors that the finish line had been set, and everyone was waiting for the winner. Yoongi reached behind him, and the sound of clicking and tapping could be heard, "what are you doing?"
Yoongi looked over at you, "winning this race." Your eyes trailed back to the road, your mouth opening a bit in suprise, "so that's how racers do.." Yoongi only giggled softly, setting himself before he grabbed a small control, handling it to you, "have the honor of winning this race."
Your eyes shined as you saw the remote, grabbing the remote and kissing Yoongi's cheek. You waited until Yoongi's call to press it. Kai seemed to have thought the same thing. However, he did it sooner. His car flaying forward. Yoongi only barked out a laugh, "idiot."
After 10 seconds, his car lost its speed, falling back to be neck to neck. Yoongi smirked as he stepped on the peddle, speeding beside him, "Now!" You pressed the button, this time his Mustang flying forwards, you let out a yelp in surprise at the speed, "Oh shit."
You closed your eyes, not wanting to think much about the speed, and before you knew it, the car had slowed down, Yoongi's laugh echoing in the closed space of the car. He did a U-turn and was soon coming to a complete stop. You heard cheers coming from outside the car, your sign that you've made it through the finish line.
You opened your eyes to see people crowding the car. You were about to step out when Yoongi stopped you, "Wait." He lowered the window on his side, Hobi pushing his way through, "You the man, D!" Hobi praised, "Cop was on my ass Smiles, I warned you.”
Hobi only rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah, I know man–" the sound of sirens distracted the crowd, causing people to scatter to their own cars, "Enjoy your chase, Smiles" Yoongi smirked before driving off, Hobi stood frozen in the chaos before flipping the Mustang off.
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The light sound of sirens echoed in the darkness of the parking lot, a few floors of the lower level, the area was dark, probably since it was an old lot. The cops wouldn't check there, and your boyfriend knew that. Yoongi let out a laugh as he looked over, seeing the chase of many cars by the cops, some actually even being pulled over, "We lost them, princess."
You only let out a moan, holding onto the hood of the car. Your boyfriend had you bent over the hood, skirt up to your waist, and cock balls deep inside you. Your pussy clenches around him, leaking from the multiple orgasms you've already had. Yoongi's sticky fingers from all the fingering rested on your hip, your heels weren't bringing in any support to you, having to stand on the tips, "fuck, yoongi.." You whined.
"yes, princess" Your boyfriend purrs, unbothered by your panting self. He pressed his hips more onto yours, feeling him push his dick deeper into you, "please.." your voice was low, yet he understood what you wanted. His fingers dug into your waist as he brought your hips back harder against his own, and the way he was thrusting into you had you feeling like the air was being punched out of your lungs.
His dick was so big, so long, so thick. He knew how to fuck, and he was fucking you so good. Your gummy like walls pulsing around his veiny cock making you moan out filthy words you never imagined that would ever come out of your mouth. He drove you to sin.
Yoongi's hand snaked towards your throat, his fingers wrapping around your throat, as his pace picked up, "You like my hands wrapping around your pretty throat, huh?" You heard him chuckle from behind, getting a moan out of you. Your boyfriend pulled your upper body against his chest, your back pushed against his chest, and a strangled moan escaped your lips, the sensation starting to make you feel light headed.
He was so damn good, and you felt yourself nearing your climax, with him still pounding into you from behind, your breast brushing against the hood as the car moved with the force of his thrusts, and you came, moaning loudly, your orgasm making your body shake, and the sound of your cries was drowned out by the sirens of the police, looking for many more of the racers.
Your hips stuttered, and your vision became hazy as he continued to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm, and you whimpered at the sensory overload, "Slow down.. yoongi,.." you whined, your hand reaching back to hold onto his stomach, trying to push him back just a bit.
Yoongi then took your arm, pinning it behind you, his free hand slapping your ass, causing you to jerk forward, "Let me savor my victory, princess." You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, feeling his cock twitch as he slipped in and out of you, furiously fucking himself into you. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out.
Your eyes rolled back, and it had him gritting his teeth, grinding into you until you couldn't stand, and his own legs barely kept him up anymore. He panted softly, gulping as you melted into him, both of his arms hugging your waist. Slowly, he got himself off you, holding you in place to not collapse.
The sirens had died down by the time Yoongi had helped you clean yourself up. You were shivering from the cold as Yoongi unlocked the car, gesturing for you to get on as he looked down at the street, "This is why your mom hates me." Yoongi commented, causing you to stop before getting into the car, "She hates the age gap and your car."
"Exactly, your dad loves me and your mom hates me." Yoongi leaned in and kissed your forehead, "My dad likes your car, not you." You corrected. Yoongi only shrugged, "tomato, tomato."
After settling you into the passenger seat, Yoongi handed you his jacket to cover your legs, "A win is still a win." Starting the engine, Yoongi leaned into the steering wheel, gaze fixed on you, "And you know how to win."
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a/n. I love yoongi :c
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jeonitopia · 10 months
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BABY TIME
🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)
🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst
☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !
a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)
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☆KIM SEOKJIN
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"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"
constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper
"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"
catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)
he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes
when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)
in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆MIN YOONGI
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honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father
once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him
learning that your child also has a thing for music
absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up
has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing
(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)
made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir
cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆JUNG HOSEOK
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always taking photos of your progress
"look here!"
he always tries to keep you active
massages all day everydayyy
you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him
absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby
it's obvious who the favorite is 😐
showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces
has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family
he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆KIM NAMJOON
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songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)
maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date
he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice
when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing
loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of
you're so in love? help???
he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆PARK JIMIN
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you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant
wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi
already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding
dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives
one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk
😐😑😐
teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆KIM TAEHYUNG
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honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids
but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous
absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one
at this point, he'd also be another baby
"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"
you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby
2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste
yeontan and the baby being bestfriends
yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying
☆ | 🪐 | ☆
☆JEON JUNGKOOK
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he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure
so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue
he calls it "baby protection protocal"
surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)
absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live
3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste
baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool
baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it
baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭
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kithtaehyung · 4 months
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drabble: first one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) rating/genre: pg ; fluff ; three tangerines au note: uhh. surprise and happy holidays LOL. based on this ig reel sent in the discord multiple times, this little slice is gonna kickstart the "3tan does sm" mini series! basically this little ongoing collection will have all the drabbles/requests based on social media things y'all send in. if it inspires me, i'll make a drabble or something out of it hehehe. enjoy! warnings: nothing big. just 3tan yoongi lol links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist drop date: december 28, 2023, 7:07pm est word count: 1.1k
-
-
In the middle of winter, you decide that tonight is the perfect time to try something new. 
Which leaves Yoongi confused as hell because this attempt requires him to be outside in the freeze, when the two of you were just bundled up in blankets and watching a movie minutes ago. 
But he can scold your lack of attention span and tendency to watch videos during long movies later. 
“What am I doing?” 
Placing him on one spot of the sidewalk just outside his apartment, you urge, “Just, hold on. Stay right there.” 
“Huh?” 
Giggling, you give no other instructions, instead rushing forward to bring your phone to a nearby bench. When you set it down to see what the camera catches, you determine that you look fine enough, so you tell Yoongi—who is simply standing there and still looking devastatingly handsome—what you wanna do. “Okay, pull up the video I sent you.” 
“Shouldn’t we go back inside?” 
“Yes, yes, after this.” 
When you walk up, he pulls up the link, and you both watch as people run to their partners and rush them out of frame, spinning them around or chasing them away. 
Ever consistent, Yoongi is both unfazed and wondering what goes on. “What’s the goal of this again?” 
Shrugging, you’re just happy he’s not tugging you back indoors yet. “I don’t really know, but. I just wanna see how you do it.” 
“Mm…” He looks one more time, cementing his answer with the way he smushes his lips. “Fine.” 
“You’ll do it?” 
“Uh huh. But this is just for you.” 
Right. Because of course this can't be seen anywhere else. Your smile is rueful with a tinge of holiday hope, “I know.” 
And Yoongi’s expression carries the same weight. 
Maybe one day this conversation will be a lot different. Just like the way your quick stay at his place while your brother is at a work dinner will prove a lot longer of a night. One day. 
Maybe.
Cheering yourself up, you practically bounce back to where the bench is, slipping a bit with a tiny “whoops” before reaching out to press record. Backing up onto the sidewalk, you throw up peace signs, poses, do a few different filler moves until Yoongi does his part. 
But nothing happens. 
And no one appears by your side. 
So you turn to see if he actually left but goddamn it is he recording you? “What the!” 
Yoongi just laughs as you kick your head back in laughter, and stops holding his phone up. “So cute.” 
Damn it, he can’t give you this fluttering feeling while being annoying! “Focus!” 
Groaning, you turn your recording off and then back on again, repeating some of the same things for the camera and shuffling a little in place to warm up. Because it is freezing and this idea could have waited another season or two. 
And when you look to the side after a pause, Yoongi is recording again. 
You bend forward to shield from the chill, your yell echoing throughout the small little courtyard, “Yoongi!” Does he have to keep grinning like that? There’s no time for prolonging this even more! “I cannot with you right now.” 
After another attractive huff of amusement, he keeps going, “I can’t help it! You’re being adorable.” 
Well. At least Yoongi’s having his fun. If anything, he’s stalling because he doesn’t wanna do whatever challenge this is. So you can drop it. “Ugh… Never mind, we can go inside.” 
After grabbing your phone, you walk up to him again before he stops you. And you think it’s because you were about to slip once more, but his low tone gets you to see his face under those locks. 
“Nah, we can do it.” When you give him a pouting frown, his teeth shine. “Serious!” 
Easily placated, you’re back to grinning. “Okay, for real this time! It’s cold!” 
“I know! You didn’t even let me get my beanie!” 
Laughing out your guilt, you warn him over your shoulder, “If you run into me, you better not knock me over.” 
“I won’t, doll.” 
“Okay!” Placing your phone down for hopefully the last time, you hit record, seeing yourself sigh before gingerly walking back to the sidewalk. 
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to try and get Yoongi to do this. It’s colder than hell’s deepest frost at this point, and some snow is still falling from darkened skies. 
But all the little reactions in the videos looked too cute, and you are genuinely curious to see what he’s gonna do. So even through your poses, you brace yourself. Is he gonna run in for a hug? Is he gonna rush you off with a big warm embrace? 
…Is he really not gonna do anything?
Feeling a little bad, you drop the cute poses and turn. 
Only to feel him right at your side, gathering you with a soft, strong arm and leading you down the sidewalk. 
Well, damn.
The gesture is so him that, for a second, you genuinely think that he saw something and led you out of harm’s way on instinct. But as you look around, you don’t see anyone else in the wintry courtyard besides the two of you. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Your vision flicks away from the lighted trees dotting the area. “Oh, nothing, I was just…” 
“Wanna run it back? If we do let’s go somewhere else. It’s icy right there.” 
Blinking, you see his eyes full of pure curiosity and attentiveness. 
And suddenly you wanna go back inside for a completely different reason other than warmth. 
“That felt perfect,” you whisper, eyes lowering to his ever inviting lips. “Lemme check it.” 
Leaving his cozy side, you go back and retrieve your chilly phone, stopping the recording that you are relieved you successfully started. Both you and Yoongi watch as you play the full thing, and after he leads you out of frame, your jaw drops. 
“Oh, my god. This beats all the ones I’ve seen.” 
“Really?” 
“Damn… Now I’m actually sad I can’t post this.” When you laugh, it’s not all joyful. Turning to him, you pretend to be mad. “Why are you so cool?” 
Huffing small, Yoongi looks up and around you before giving your cheek a kiss, and your knees weaken at how tender it is. “Send it to me,” he murmurs. 
“You want it, too?” 
“Mm.” 
“Okay.” 
“Just a little longer, babe.” He gives you another peck on your very cold nose. Then both cheeks. And your forehead. 
All while you’re out in the open where anyone could witness. 
Just his willingness to amuse you was already perfect. Yoongi didn’t need to do any of that, and he certainly didn’t need to be so charming with his stylistic choice. But he did it all anyway while freezing his pretty ass off.
And his next words make your chest yearn to stay with him—for every holiday season and silly trend that comes around. 
“Then this’ll be the first one of us we post.”
-
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fin. :)
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🌨️ what do we feel! i needed this little drabble :')) 🌨️
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a/n: did i mean for this to be a full blown drabble? no! was this the video that bo originally sent me that i flailed over? no! but it's the reel i saw and apparently had been sent in the server multiple times. so here we are with a surprise hahaha.
enjoy your holidays, everyone! and if you have anything social media related that 3tan reminds you of - or you can see the 3tan crew doing - send them in and maybe i'll get inspired again. :D this didn't take me long at all and i wanted to do it, so no worries about extra work!
a/n 2: 3tan12 is going strong alongside the holiday fics! should be posting teasers and taglists for those, too. very very excited for all of them mwahaha
🌨️ links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist
544 notes · View notes
colormepurplex2 · 4 months
Text
Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG
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▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart
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A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.
A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.
Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.
The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”
Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.
He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”
That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.
His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.
As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.
You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.
“Do you paint?”
The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.
“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.
The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.
“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”
Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.
“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”
Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.
You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.
“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.
Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”
He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.
“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”
It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.
“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.
“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”
“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.
“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”
Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.
You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.
Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”
If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”
Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”
“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.
“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.
Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.
The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?
“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”
“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”
It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.
“Here is fine.”
“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”
“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”
“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”
“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”
“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.
Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.
☕☕☕
Yoongi
In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.
“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”
The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.
To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.
Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.
The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.
The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 
Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”
And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.
“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.
“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”
Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”
“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”
As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.
He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.
The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.
Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.
Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.
That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.
Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?
He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”
“I’m fine as long as you are.”
He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.
“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.
“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.
“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.
He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.
☕☕☕
Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.
At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.
It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.
There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.
The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”
“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”
Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”
You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.
“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.
You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.
“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”
Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”
“You’ve spoken with the owner?”
“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”
“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”
“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?
You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.
“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.
You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.
“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”
His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.
Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.
Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.
“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”
Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”
“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. ��Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.
It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.
“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”
You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”
“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.
He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”
You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”
“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.
“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”
“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”
“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”
“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”
You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”
The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.
“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.
“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”
Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”
“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”
You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”
Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.
Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.
“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.
The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”
“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”
That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.
“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”
“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.
“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.
Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.
Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.
As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.
“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”
Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”
“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”
“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.
“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.
Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”
You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”
It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.
The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.
“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”
His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.
“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”
Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.
In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.
Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.
“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.
Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.
Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.
When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.
Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.
You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.
He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.
“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.
“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.
Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.
You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.
“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”
“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”
You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”
“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.
“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”
“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.
“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.
“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.
Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.
It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.
“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.
His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.
You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.
“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.
Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.
“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.
Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.
“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.
“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.
It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”
“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”
You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.
His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.
The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.
“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”
Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.
You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.
“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”
“Too soon to say?” he prompts.
You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”
“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2
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btsugarush · 11 months
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RAP SH!T | myg [m.list]
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summary: when your boyfriend yoongi starts to get recognition as an underground rapper he gets a little fame hungry, and cheats on you, putting an end to your 6 year relationship. 2 years later your friends beg you to attend a show in los angeles, and guess who’s the opening headliner?
pairings: ex boyfriend!rapper!yoongi x f!reader.
warnings: lovers to exes, exes to lovers, smut, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap that sh!t up), oral (f receiving), soft dom!yoongi, jealous!yoongi, drugs, alcohol, strong language, infidelity, fluff, mini series, 18+, minors dni.
author’s note: when i saw this picture of yoongi with orange hair, i had to write something. and ofc i only write series half the time so here’s a mini one.
©btsugarush. please do not repost.
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here2bbtstrash · 2 years
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the shape of your body (explicit)
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genre: fluffy slowburn smut
pairing: jimin x reader
summary: the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.
word count: 24k 🙇‍♀️
contains: explicit sexual content~*~ (after a slow burn lmao) - new york city grad school AU, strangers to lovers, reader is an art student, public transit thirsting, jimin is a dancer and a nude model, namgi and vhope as side characters, basically everyone is gay (they're ART STUDENTS in NEW YORK CITY it's called realism 💅), a smidge of member x member side character relationships, jimin is biromantic demisexual 👀, conversations about body image issues/past relationship struggles/demisexuality and libido, soooo much making out, a couple "failed attempts" at sex, accidental voyeurism (but not how you think lmao YOU'LL SEE), showering together non-sexually, and: fingering, clit stim, nipple play, come eating/sharing 🤭 an attempted blowjob, face sitting, & protected sex (multiple rounds 🥵)
A/N: asjdshgkdfjgs i can't believe it's done 😭 there were so many times i thought i would never finish this fic !!! i have too many friends to thank for talking me off of SEVERAL ledges where i was convinced this whole thing was trash and that i should just stick to short porn or perhaps simply never write again. i'm so glad i saw this one through because there are concepts in here that are deeply important and personal to me wehhh 🫠 i sincerely hope y'all enjoy this one!! thank u for enduring mostly radio silence while i was in jimin lockdown, and of course, happy early birthday to mini, the light of my mf life 🥰💜 (oh and LDOMLT ch 8 is coming next so buckle tf up bitches 👀)
an eternity of smooches to @haliiimede for beta reading and just generally being the best fucking person on planet earth ✨ AND TO @goodsoop FOR THE DEMI SENSITIVITY READ VERY SORRY THAT I AM THE WORLD'S LARGEST IDIOT AND FORGOT TO CREDIT..... i love you both 🥺
read on AO3!
~*~
You’ve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.
Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.
Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where there’s a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.
Late nights coming home, Namjoon’s head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongi’s on his other side.
It’s always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out they’re something more, you don’t mind it. But when it’s late and you’ve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s temple, you can’t help it.
There’s a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.
But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.
You just wish you knew him, too.
Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crush— if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?
Well, you know a few things.
He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, he’s already on the train when you board at 51st.
He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.
You’re pretty sure he’s an athlete of some sort, because he’s usually carrying a gym bag—and because during this summer’s heat wave, the one and only time you’ve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.
He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and you’ve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you can’t say for sure if he’s undergrad or graduate.
You deeply hope you’re not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but there’s no way to be certain.
Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but it’s currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.
On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boy’s beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and you’d miss it entirely.
Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize he’s seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.
And then the train stops moving.
There’s an audible reaction from a few people in the car, and you glance up a moment later when a voice buzzes over the intercom. You’re able to make out “attention passengers” and very little after that, just the basics about some sort of unforeseen interruption of service and that the train should resume moving again soon.
You sigh, knowing very well that the MTA’s definition of ‘soon’ does not often align with typical human expectations. Figuring you’ve got some time to kill, you reach into your bag to retrieve your sketchbook and the first pencil you can dig out of the bottom.
“What did they say?” A voice, quiet and deep, surprises you before you can even flip to your in-progress page.
You glance up to find Subway Boy staring at you, forearms braced on his knees as he leans forward into the gap between his seat and yours. He’s got one bluetooth earbud pinched between his fingertips and a confused look on his face, having clearly missed the announcement.
Heat floods your face at the feeling of his eyes fixed on you, and it takes you a second to form a response. “Uh— I didn’t get most of it. Something about unforeseen interruption. And that we’ll be moving again soon.”
A muscle works in his jaw as he rolls his eyes. “Typical.”
“I don’t think they know what ‘soon’ means,” you murmur, mostly to yourself as you tear your gaze away from Subway Boy and return to the sketchbook in your lap, rifling through to find your latest half-finished drawing. When you hear him huff a laugh, you have to bite down on the hopeful smile that threatens to shine across your face.
“Definitely not.”
You force yourself to keep your eyes on the page, assuming Subway Boy must go back to his music when he falls silent after his last comment.
With featherlight flicks of your pencil, you start to add a little depth to the quick study you were working on last night, Yoongi’s half-peeled tangerine that he left abandoned on the coffee table when he stepped out onto the fire escape for a smoke.
Subway Boy’s voice catches you off guard a second time. “Are you drawing?”
You bite down on your lip again, a nervous habit, and you nod as you tilt the page so he can see from across the car.
“Wow.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way his voice seems to soften a little. “You’re really good. Are you an artist?”
You can’t help it— your gaze flits up to meet his again. It’s nearly overwhelming to lock eyes with your Subway Boy and hear him compliment you, like something out of a wild daydream. “I guess so,” you remark, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a small smile as you say it. “I’ve certainly paid NYU enough money in my attempts to become one.”
“Know the feeling,” he scoffs, but his eyes smile back, pulled into crescent moons.
“What did you pay them for?”
“Currently, a dual MFA/MA in dance and… teaching dance. Really went all-in on the dancer thing.”
“Oh.” Your eyes widen automatically. You’ve wondered— and yes, occasionally drunkenly speculated with your roommates— what Subway Boy’s line of work might be, but you have no idea why dancer never occurred to you. Because now all the pieces suddenly fall together in front of you: the toned muscles that flex beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, the natural grace he exudes, not to mention his perfect posture.
Of course he’s a dancer. It makes perfect sense.
It occurs to you, a beat too late, that a wide-eyed ‘oh’ is not the most normal response to a truly innocuous answer to a question asked of a random stranger.
But the smile in his eyes doesn’t falter. “I feel like I see you on this train a lot.”
Your stomach flutters like butterfly wings, and you have to look away, back down to the safety of your sketchbook. “Really?”
There’s an extra pause before he speaks again. “Man, sorry. Think I misread that. Now I feel creepy. I promise I’ve only noticed you a normal amount.” Your eyes snap back up to find him wincing slightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
“No, no, I’m— it’s not—” you stammer, trying to recover. “I, uh— me too, I have too. Noticed you. A normal amount. I… I don’t know why I just pretended like I didn’t.”
Subway Boy leans forward, head dropping down with a genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders, and you can’t help but laugh too, out of sheer embarrassment. He’s beaming when he rights himself again, and it sends a thrill buzzing through you, all the way down to your fingertips still clutched tight to your pencil.
“That makes me feel better,” he admits. “At least we’re both creepy.”
As if the universe itself is intervening to save you from any further humiliation, the train shudders back to life and begins to move again. The sigh you breathe is a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.
“That’s definitely a new record,” you say shyly as you move to shove your things back in your bag. “Maybe the MTA actually looked up what ‘soon’ means.”
His focus is tracked over your shoulder when you look up again, and his eyes dance left to right to chase the patterns in the subway tile as you pull into the next station.
“Guess it’s a miracle,” he says softly, not making eye contact.
“Must be,” you murmur back, letting your gaze drop to the floor, unable to hide your smile now.
He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you, but the warm flush stays in your face for the rest of the ride. When the train pulls into the Astor Place station, you and Subway Boy get to your feet simultaneously, so quickly that your bags knock together as you pull them over your shoulders.
“Sorry,” you say in unison, immediately sharing an exhaled laugh at the synchronicity of the moment.
The doors slide open and he gestures for you to go first before following after. It’s a surprise— he’s never gotten off at Astor before, and when he doesn’t take the option of heading in another direction but instead falls into lockstep next to you, you seize the opportunity.
“Astor Place today, huh?” You hope the observation still falls into the category of ‘noticing a normal amount’.
“Yeah, first day of a new gig. What about you? Class?”
You nod. “Pretty standard stuff. But we start a new unit today, so that’s fun.”
“You in grad school too?”
“Yup, MFA in studio art.” You can’t help but tease, just a little. “Only one master’s degree for me, I’m such a slacker.”
His eyes squint again as he smiles. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re not, like, eighteen.”
“I thought that too!” You keep talking before you can stop yourself. “I mean, when I was… noticing. I distinctly remember thinking, like, please let me not be thirsting over a straight-up child right now.”
“Ahh...” Subway Boy trails off, and you can see a faint pink starting to blossom in the apples of his cheeks. “You were thirsting?”
You can’t help but scrunch your nose up slightly, resisting the urge to full-body cringe at your own stupid mouth. “We are now officially both creepy.”
He fidgets a little with the strap of the dance bag slung over his shoulder. “Hopefully I’m living up to the hype.”
You’re grateful to reach the art building before you can dig your grave any deeper. You nod your head in the direction of the glass doors as you slow to a stop, and he does, too. “This is me.”
“It’s actually me, too,” he remarks, glancing up at the building as if to double-check. “But I have a little bit, so I’m gonna grab a coffee I think. But it was nice to finally talk to you. Not that— sorry, that was weird. Take out the finally. It was good to talk. Meet a fellow starving artist and all.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, until you finally work up the courage to ask the question. “Do you have a name?”
“Oh!” His eyes widen, more heat-blush coloring his face. “Yeah. Park Jimin. Probably could’ve led with that.”
You give him your name, and his voice is like music when he repeats it back.
“Well, good luck in class,” Jimin says with a nod. “And hopefully I’ll see you around sometime.” A smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and then he pauses as his words seem to catch up to him. “Well, I mean. I guess I know I will. On the— train— yeah, I’m gonna go before I say any more stupid things.”
“Bye Jimin,” you giggle, and he gives a shy departing wave before he spins on his heel. As he walks away, you can’t help but notice the way he drops his gaze and shakes his head, like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his social performance.
And just like that, Subway Boy has a name— one that loops in your head as you float to class, barely feeling your feet touch the floor. Park Jimin. It’s sweet like him, warm sunshine in your veins as you shoulder open the door to the studio, grab a seat, and start to get set up.
A voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin as Kim Taehyung leans in, having occupied the seat next to you while you were off in la-la land. “Know what the new unit is?” You start to shake your head, then realize it was a rhetorical question when he waggles his eyebrows and continues. “Life drawing. Ready for some naked people?”
You roll your eyes and grab at the strings of his gray beanie, pulling it down over his fluffy hair and eyes in one swift tug. “Bro, we are literally in grad school. Stop acting like a virgin.”
“Like you weren’t thinking it too,” he grumbles to himself as he shoves the hat back up his forehead.
You shoot him a look as your professor signals the class to settle and launches in. It’s the same routine as each unit you’ve rotated through in your graduate studio, so you only half-listen, mostly distracted by Taehyung tearing open the paper wrapper of a red heart-shaped lollipop and popping it into his mouth. His latest oral fixation in his millionth attempt to quit vaping.
You lean down to dig into your bag, trying to ignore the sound of hard candy clacking against teeth as you fish out both pencils and charcoal to give yourself options. You pull a couple of each out of their cases, glancing up in an attempt to refocus on the professor, who is still talking.
It takes a second for your brain to process the image in front of you. His shy smile has been replaced with a serious, professional expression, but there’s no questioning the familiar face, the posture, the silver jewelry, the way he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. Subway Boy Park Jimin is standing in the center of the room, wearing a short black satin dressing gown.
Your jaw goes slack. It feels like it happens in slow motion as you watch Jimin’s strong hands move down to undo the sash at his waist before he shrugs off the flimsy fabric and lets it fall to the floor. And then he’s not wearing anything at all.
You lose your grip entirely on your handful of pencils, and they hit the studio floor with a clatter that certainly feels deafening, each one choosing to roll off in a different direction.
Taehyung glances over at you, brow slightly creased. The lollipop tucked in his cheek impedes his speech slightly, but not enough that you can’t understand him. “Now who’s the virgin?”
You crouch down, praying that maybe you can gather your things unnoticed, but it already feels like every pair of eyes in the room is burning a hole in your back. To his credit, Taehyung at least helps a little, extending a sandaled foot to kick any pencils he can reach over towards you. You scramble around the room to chase after the rest, and you can’t bear to look up and see if Jimin is watching you or not. You’re not sure which would be worse.
Fighting the urge to army crawl out of the room, you grip both hands tightly around your materials as you return to your seat, then tuck everything into the tray of the easel in front of you. You’re a professional, you tell yourself. It’s not like it’s your first time drawing someone nude.
It’s just your first time doing it when you happen to have a crush on them.
But it’s fine. You let out an exhale to ground yourself, then pick up a pencil. It’s just a body.
You vaguely recall hearing your professor explain that you’d be moving through ten quick-sketch poses to begin with, each held for only a few minutes, before switching to a few longer sessions for the rest of class. As you were too busy chasing your pencils around the room, you’ve missed the first pose entirely, and you have to work quickly to get a very rough outline of the second before Jimin moves again at the professor’s instruction.
He switches so fluidly from one pose to the next, and you have so little time, it’s enough to get you out of your head just trying to keep up. You find yourself falling comfortably into a flow state, focused on little more than lines and shapes in front of you and the act of reproducing them on your page. It’s an exercise you know well, and the repetition of it soothes you.
The studio is quiet, save for the scratching of pencils on paper and the soft classical music your professor has switched on.
By the time you finish sketching the tenth pose, it feels like you can breathe a little easier, and your professor offers Jimin a quick break just as you lean back to admire your work. You do your best to quickly duck behind your easel as he stretches, then reaches for a bottle of water set on a nearby table.
Taehyung removes his sheet of sketches and sets it aside before leaning in, pressing his face against his easel to match yours. “He’s cute. Bet he gets like, infinite ass-pussy. Just the absolute most.”
“Shut up, Tae!” You jerk your foot out to kick the leg of his chair, and a boxy grin stretches over his face as he giggles. You stare daggers back. “You’re too damn horny today. Like you didn’t just get your ass eaten in the supply closet last week.” The rumor had spread through your cohort practically overnight— probably started by Taehyung himself.
The menace in question shoots you an over-exaggerated wink. “And I’d do it again, too.”
You roll your eyes. “Nasty.”
The professor claps to get everyone’s attention again, and you peer around your easel to watch as Jimin resumes his place at the center of the room. You settle in for the first of a few longer, more detailed sketches, trying desperately to keep your cool about it. But Jimin is unquestionably gorgeous.
He turns to the side for the first pose, arms wrapped around his muscular torso and eyes downcast, fingertips and thumb resting over his neck and chin as if to cradle his own face in his hand. After a long stretch of time where you manage to get most of a sketch done, the professor cues him to move into a second pose, and he faces the back wall, reaching up to drape his arms over each other, crossed wrists resting delicately on the crown of his head.
You could easily see him as a statue carved out of marble, and you try to ignore the flutter of your heartbeat as you attempt to translate his beauty onto your page each time. You have to hold in several sighs as you work on outlining the strong, toned muscles of his back and thighs— not to mention his perky ass. You can’t help but wonder if the rest of the class is struggling silently, too.
You’re beginning to think you might survive after all when the professor asks Jimin to move again and he does, shaking his body out slightly before reaching to grab a provided stool and shift it to the center of the room. He takes a seat, abdominals flexing as he leans back on his hands and unabashedly lets his legs fall open.
Fuck. You nearly snap your pencil in half.
You try desperately to keep it together as you start your third sketch with unsteady hands. The minutes tick by, and you aren’t aware of Taehyung’s eyes on your paper until you hear his stupid whisper again. “Why aren’t you drawing his dick?”
He’s not wrong. There is a noticeable blank spot at the center of your page. “I’m getting there,” you huff. “Worry about your own sketch, Tae.”
“Girl, you are literally doing detail shading on his legs and he doesn’t even have a penis. What is he, a Ken doll?”
You grit your teeth and refuse to dignify Taehyung with a response. Fine. You can do this, you tell yourself. Don’t think. Just look and draw. It’s not a big deal.
With a hard swallow, you trace your eyes down his body, and… well, you don’t know what you were expecting. It’s just a soft penis resting limp between his legs, framed by an extremely regular pair of balls. Nothing scary, though you can’t quite will the heat back out of your face, can’t manage to silence the recurring thought that makes your stomach drop— it’s cute.
You resist the urge to smack your head against your easel as you finally fill in your sketch’s dick.
You somehow manage to survive the rest of class, but relief still floods your veins when your professor signals for everyone to wrap up what they’re doing for the day. Jimin starts to come alive again from the fixed pose, tilting his head to one side until something cracks audibly in his neck. You tear your gaze away for fear that his eyes might find yours, and shove everything into your bag as quickly as you can, not even caring what ends up where.
“Where’s the fire?” Taehyung questions beside you, but you ignore him.
You zip your bag up and sling it over your shoulder, then make a beeline for the exit, keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the floor. It’s only once the studio door swings shut behind you that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to keep yourself from outright sprinting to your next class.
~*~
The rest of the day rushes by in an overwhelming blur, your focus entirely shot by the events of the morning. You collapse into a seat on your train home, hugging your bag to your chest, thankful for the first time in your life to not be sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.
When you turn your keys in the lock and stumble in the front door of the apartment, the divine smell of what could only be Yoongi’s cooking immediately hits you full-force. You find him in the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder, searing a large steak in a cast iron pan for what must be a planned date night with Namjoon.
You wrap your arms around his tiny waist from behind as you approach. He responds with his usual greeting: a soft grunt of mild discomfort.
“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
“You just did,” Yoongi notes.
You decide to let his sass go, since you really do need help. “Two more?” Yoongi hums, somewhat affirmative, and you continue. “I know you work like 47 jobs and never get any time off—“
“Some of us have to pay rent without the luxury of stipends or rich parents, yes—“
“But is there any way I could… maybe possibly encroach upon your date night just this once? It’s an emergency. I need advice.”
Yoongi sighs, and you shift to peek over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him as you watch the way he tilts the pan to one side, collecting butter on a spoon to baste over the steak as it cooks. You squish your cheek into his bicep.
“Lucky for you,” he begins, his tone relenting, “Namjoonie just called. They’ve got him working late to prep for the exhibition next month. So date night was canceled anyway.”
“Aw, Yoongiiiii.” You squeeze him tight enough that he makes another disgruntled noise, and you finally release your grip. “I’ll be your girlfriend tonight.”
He rolls his eyes, but willingly plays along. “Then get the wine, darling?”
You fall into a typical routine: Yoongi pulls a tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven as he lets the steak rest, while you grab a bottle of red at his instruction and fight with the corkscrew in an attempt to get it open. Yoongi watches you, slow-blinking, unamused.
“You wouldn’t last an hour in the restaurant industry.”
“Either help me, or shut up,” you hiss through clenched teeth.
When you finally get settled at your tiny kitchen table, Yoongi nods as if to prompt you while he fills each wine glass with a heavy pour. “Let’s hear it.”
You take a deep breath before launching in and recounting the events of your day, trying not to choke as you simultaneously stuff your face with food. Yoongi eats and listens quietly, no discernible reaction on his face save the occasional lift of his eyebrows. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest as you finish detailing the way you ran out of the studio the minute class ended.
“Alright. So you saw Subway Boy naked, big deal. Do you know how many dicks I’ve seen?”
You groan. “Spare me the details, please.”
“But this is what you wanted, right?” You shrug, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t play coy now. You’ve been lusting after this kid for months like a weirdo. So why are you stressed?”
“Because!” you huff, frustrated. “It’s— it’s out of order. It’s not like he chose to get naked in front of me specifically, he obviously just thought it was going to be a roomful of strangers. And it seemed like maybe we could be friends or something, but now I don’t know if I should keep pursuing that or just leave him alone. I want to be respectful, but I don’t want him to think I took one look at his penis and decided I didn’t like him anymore, but then it’s like, how do I hold a conversation when he and I both know I have seen his penis, not only seen but studied it, drawn it, and will continue to, weekly, in detail, from multiple angles—“
“You are absolutely overthinking this,” Yoongi laughs into his glass of wine, downing the rest before he continues. “Just get on the fucking train and say hi like a normal, well-adjusted human. This is my advice to you.”
You sigh as you shove a roasted potato in your mouth. “At least you’re a good cook.”
“I’m a great cook,” Yoongi corrects you as he gets to his feet. “Now help me with these dishes.”
~*~
Yoongi’s advice continues to echo in your brain as you lapse back into something like normalcy for the rest of the week.
When the day of your studio class rolls around again, you find yourself hustling not to miss the train, having hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times that morning. You fly down the subway steps just as the 6 is pulling into the station, and you try to ignore the way your pulse is already quickening, telling yourself it’s just from rushing and nothing else.
Pulling the strap of your bag up on your shoulder, you make it to the platform just as the train doors slide open, and your heart instantly leaps into your throat. There he is, leaning against a pole, overwhelmingly beautiful as ever. Park Jimin.
He’s scrolling through something on his phone and hasn’t yet looked up to notice you, and you find yourself frozen in place, jostled angrily by commuters exiting and boarding the train on either side of you.
Panic floods your veins. There’s no time to talk yourself off the ledge, no time to remember Yoongi’s words of wisdom, no time to do anything but make a snap decision. So you do the only thing that feels right: you turn around and sprint back up the stairs and out of the subway station.
The sidewalk is equally bustling, and you try to dodge people while you think through what to do despite the way your head is spinning. You were already going to be cutting it close for time today, and you don’t exactly have the disposable income for a taxi or an Uber. As you try to settle your racing thoughts, your eyes alight on a rack of Citibikes.
Fuck it. You don’t have a better option. Securing your bag on your back, you quickly scan the code to unlock the bike, then shove your phone in your pocket and swing your leg over the seat.
You’ve never biked in Manhattan traffic before, but it can’t be that difficult, you tell yourself. Definitely easier than sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.
Thankfully the street you’re on has a defined bike path, and you do your best to follow the flow of traffic, squeezing your hand brakes to slow to a stop when you hit a red light. It’s been years since you’ve ridden a bike that wasn’t stationary, but it comes back to you relatively easily, like— well, riding a bike.
When you hit a long stretch of green lights, you do your best to pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time. An approaching red light threatens to slow you down again, and you breathe a sigh of relief as it flips to green at the last possible second.
Just as your front tire rolls into the intersection, a deafening car horn nearly gives you a heart attack. You instinctively slam your grip tight around your brakes, and your bike screeches to a halt so fast you’re almost flung over the handlebars. A taxi just barely veers around you as it plows down the intersecting avenue, and you gasp for air, adrenaline coursing through your system.
Holy shit.
You drop one foot to the ground for leverage as you try to get your pulse back under control— you’re pretty sure you just saw your life flash before your eyes. Reality feels a million miles away, but you’re vaguely aware of someone shouting after the car as it speeds down the street.
“Fucking asshole!”
It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s a familiar voice, and when you do, you whip around as best you can with a bike between your legs.
“Yoongi?!”
“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, knuckles blanching as he presses down on his own brakes. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You squint, taking in the helmet strapped over his wavy dark hair and the insulated bag tucked into the basket on the front of his bike. “Since when do you deliver food?”
He grimaces, speaking up to be heard over the noise of traffic. “I just do it to make extra money when my hours suck.”
“What about the coffee shop?”
He shakes his head. “They only have me opening Mondays and Wednesdays right now.”
“What about the bar?”
“That’s just weekends, reliably. Sometimes extra evenings, but only if someone calls out.”
“What about the—”
“Christ, woman!” Yoongi cuts you off with a growl. “The food’s gonna get cold if I have to sit here and run through my entire résumé with you! Are you alright? Why aren’t you taking the subway?”
“Because!” you snap back. “There is a man on that train whose dick I’ve seen and I… I don’t know how to handle it! Okay?!” Though you don’t intend to raise your voice, it comes out loud enough that a group of high school kids on their phones exchange stifled giggles as they fast-walk around you.
“Well you need to be fucking careful,” Yoongi chides. “Biking in the city is not for the faint of heart. And if I’m not allowed to give in to my suicidal ideation, you’re not allowed to crack your head open on the pavement all because you’re trying to avoid a penis.”
“Fine,” you spit back through gritted teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.” You push off the asphalt, legs still shaking a little with excess nerves as you re-find your balance and make your way cautiously through the intersection.
The rush of wind in your ears isn’t quite loud enough to drown out Yoongi calling after you as you bike away. “It’s only weird if you make it weird!”
When you somehow make it to Astor Place in one piece, you dock your bike and quickly sprint to the building, well aware that you’re already late. It’s only once you push the studio door open that you realize how truly frazzled and out of breath you are, and though you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, you can feel every pair of eyes in the room on you. You hold a hand up in an apologetic wave and hurry to find your seat.
Trying to collect yourself, you begin to unpack your materials as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the class. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Kim Taehyung’s voice beside you.
“You’re sweaty. Why are you so sweaty?”
He’s got an eyebrow cocked when you look over, and you give him the most powerful death glare you can muster, enough that it must actually scare him. “Shutting up now,” Taehyung murmurs, voice shaking slightly as he returns to his own sketches, and you huff an exhale as you attempt to catch up to the rest of the group.
Class passes surprisingly quickly once you manage to get your breath back, much in the same way it did the week prior: you do your best to compartmentalize the body in front of you from the human person you have a giant, embarrassing crush on. It goes decently well in the moments where Jimin is frozen in a fixed pose, just lines and curves and light and shadow for you to emulate. During the breaks when he comes alive again, you hide out behind your easel, trying to ignore Taehyung’s inane bullshit and wishing you could disappear entirely.
The second your professor dismisses everyone for the day, you stuff your things back into your bag, hoping to once again speed-walk out of the room.
But despite your better judgment, you can’t help yourself this time. As you get to your feet, you glance up to watch Jimin pull his dressing gown back on, only to realize his eyes are already on you.
You’re distinctly aware of how much of a mess you must look from biking over, and the fact that you almost assuredly smudged charcoal on your face when you reached up absentmindedly to scratch an itch mid-sketch.
Jimin’s plush lips turn up in the smallest of smiles, and the bottom drops out of your stomach.
With a hard swallow, you avert your gaze from his, sling your bag over your shoulder, and quickly make your escape through the studio door. You can feel your pulse pounding in your throat even after he’s out of your sight, and your hands shake like a leaf all the way to your next class.
~*~
That night, sleep evades you until the early hours of the morning, and it feels like you’ve only just begun to doze off when the harsh noise of your alarm pulls you up from dreaming. You roll over in bed and glare accusingly at your phone, then shut it off, promptly letting the waves drag you under once more, seminar be damned.
It’s nearly noon when you finally make it out of bed and stumble into the living room in your sweats. Namjoon is curled up in his reading chair, a feat for someone of his size, surrounded as always by his massive stack of ever-changing ‘to read’ books. He glances up from the one that’s open on his lap, clearly surprised to see you.
“No class?” Namjoon’s voice is rough-edged, like he’s only just woken up himself.
“Skipped,” you grunt. His eyes track you as you cross the room and collapse face-first onto the couch.
“Is this about the penis?”
The cushion muffles your groan. “Not you too.”
You hear the distinct fluttering sound of Namjoon closing his book and shifting in his seat to give you his undivided attention. “Seems like you want to talk about it.”
You turn your head to the side to take in your roommate. “Maybe. Are you gonna give me the same stupid advice your boyfriend did?”
He smiles softly, one dimple flexing at the corner of his mouth. “I can try to be gentler.”
You huff as you flip onto your side, pressing your palms together and slipping them under your cheek. “Sounds like you’ve got the details already, so please. Enlighten me. Tell me how I’m supposed to handle seeing this guy naked once a week in the name of art.”
“Didn’t William Blake say ‘Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed’?” Namjoon poses it like a serious question, brow creased as if in contemplation, and you roll your eyes.
“I don’t know, Joon, did he? I said enlighten me, not write me a thesis.” You reach up to grab a couch pillow and fling it in his direction, missing by several inches. “Did Blake have anything in there on dealing with a naked crush and trying not to make it weird as fuck?”
“Well, does he seem weirded out by it?” Namjoon counters, patient as ever.
“I don’t know.” You shrug unsurely as you play back your last interaction with Jimin. “He smiled at me yesterday, at the end of class.”
Namjoon steeples his fingers together, leaning forward slightly in his chair, interest clearly piqued. “Okay, and what did you do?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “I… threw all my shit in my bag and ran out of the room.” When you crack an eye open again, you can see Namjoon trying and failing to keep the smug smile off his face, his dimples giving him away.
“Maybe you could try smiling back next time?” he gently suggests.
You sigh, because you know he’s right. “You make it sound so easy. What’s next? You’re going to tell me to talk to him?”
He laughs a little. “I’d quote another poet, but I fear you might launch more projectiles at me.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Let’s hear it, nerd.”
Namjoon clears his throat for dramatic effect before launching into a recitation. “‘It’s cool, not tryna put a rush on you / I had to let you know, that I got a crush on you.’”
There’s a wide grin on his face as you sit all the way up. “Did you just quote Biggie Smalls at me?”
“Hey, I appreciate all forms of poetry.”
You feign annoyance, but you can’t quite hide the smile beneath it, and you get to your feet as Namjoon continues to mumble a verse of Crush on You under his breath. “Whatever. I need to do laundry.”
“Oh—” Namjoon pauses to interrupt himself. “Lucky’s closed, by the way.”
Already halfway out of the living room, you whip around again at the mention of the laundromat you’ve been exclusive with for the last few years. “What?”
He nods solemnly. “Me and Yoongi found out the hard way last week. They’re putting in an Equinox.”
Your face twists in disgust. “A stupid bougie gym?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Where am I supposed to wash my fucking clothes?”
“We found a place a few blocks up. Quick Clean, or something like that.” Namjoon shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll send you the address. It’s not bad, just a little more expensive.”
“This is such bullshit,” you groan as you stomp back into your bedroom, the day already off to a terrible start.
In a gentrification-induced rage, you angrily shove the contents of your overflowing laundry hamper into the giant yellow IKEA bag hung up in your closet, just barely managing to fit it all. Glancing at the mirror on the back of the door, you briefly consider changing out of your sweats, or at the very least doing something with your hair, but you shrug it off— it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone at the damn laundromat.
You grab your headphones off your desk and sling them around your neck, double-check that your sketchbook is still tucked into your bag, then lug everything out to the front hallway. You pull your slides off the shoe rack and slip your socked feet into them.
“Bye, nerd!” you call over your shoulder to Namjoon before the front door slams shut behind you.
By the time you make it to the weird new laundromat, you’re sweaty and pissed off. You knew the walk to Lucky’s by heart, but you had to do this one while looking down at your phone GPS and trying not to get hit by a car. Not an easy feat while carrying every article of clothing you own over one shoulder.
You miss the way the nice old man who owned Lucky’s would greet you warmly and sneak you a cup of coffee from his pot in the back, the way his cat would roll over on the front counter for belly rubs, the way there was always a deeply entertaining telenovela playing on the ancient tiny TV.
The stupid Quick Clean has none of these things, just a shitty pile of magazines in the seating area and weirdly sticky floors. You slam into the front door a little harder than is necessary to push it open, the bell tinkling violently overhead as you enter. The only compliment you can give the place is that it’s relatively dead, save for a couple people on their phones or half-asleep in chairs as they wait on their stuff, and two guys in the corner loading armfuls of wet clothes into a pair of dryers.
You grab a machine a respectful distance away from them and swing the door open when a laugh that’s nearly musical gives you pause. Unable to shake a sense of familiarity, you glance over at your neighbors again, just in time to see one of them reach up to run a hand through his honey blonde hair.
Your IKEA bag hits the sticky floor with an audible thud as panic kickstarts your heart.
This isn’t fucking happening. Of all the laundromats in New York City, you did not just manage to stumble into the one currently being used by Park Jimin.
But even before you can catch a glimpse of his profile, you’re already certain it can’t be anyone else. You’ve spent too much time familiarizing yourself with the slope of his neck, the definition of his forearms, his dainty hands. There’s no mistaking them, adorned today with several silver rings that catch the dim fluorescent light as he grabs more of his clothes from the washer.
The desperate need to turn around and run rises up in your chest, just as before, but this time you steel yourself. You can’t keep running away forever— particularly not when you pulled on your last clean pair of underwear this morning.
A rush of heat floods your face at the thought of the many pairs of underwear in your bag that will soon be sent spinning around this washing machine, where Jimin could easily see, but then it occurs to you that you have seen his penis. Maybe the trade-off will put you on slightly more equal footing.
But you really don’t need to be thinking about Park Jimin’s penis in this laundromat right now.
Shaking your head slightly to try and banish the thought, you set about your laundry routine, trying not to drop any unmentionables on the floor when you dump the contents of your tote into the washer. You dig quarters out of your bag and slot them into the machine, then press the button to start the cycle.
With a final exhale to steady yourself, you turn to look over your shoulder again, only to find Jimin leaning up against the empty dryer next to his, unabashedly watching you with a small smile on his face.
It occurs to you now that you couldn’t have put less effort into your appearance if you tried, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every random stain on your sweatpants and your extremely fashionable socks and slides combination. Jimin’s just in a white t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans today, but literally everything looks fresh off the runway on him. You suppress the urge to walk out the door and go lay down in traffic, and instead take Namjoon’s advice: you smile back and even lift your hand in a shy wave.
You drop into an empty chair across from your machine and watch as Jimin starts to cross the room to join you, his eyes never leaving yours. Before he can make it, you suddenly become aware of someone else sliding into the seat beside you.
“You didn’t tell me she was cute, Jimin-ah!”
Eyes wide, you turn to see Jimin’s friend sprawled out next to you, one arm draped lazily over the back of your chair. His wavy dark hair peeks out from under a lime green beanie, and he’s swimming in an oversized long sleeve tucked into baggy pants, cinched tight at the waist with a Gucci belt.
“Jung Hoseok,” he gives you a nod. “Friends call me Hobi. You can call me whatever you like.” The way his wide smile pulls his mouth heart-shaped makes you giggle a little, slightly dazed by whatever the fuck is happening right now.
You hear Jimin sigh as he takes the open seat on your other side. “Please ignore Hoseok’s tendency to come on way too strong. If it makes you feel any better, he’s as gay as they come.”
Hoseok flicks his wrist just so. “Guilty as charged.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” you say with a shrug, your gaze flitting from Jimin to Hoseok and back again. “I have two gay roommates, so.”
Hoseok hums, clearly interested. “Gay together or gay separately?”
“Gay together.”
He narrows his eyes. “Open to a third?”
You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected question. “Uh, I’d have to ask.”
He looks like he’s going to say more, but Jimin interjects. “Hoseok— can we get a minute?”
Hoseok’s lips pull together, fish-like, and he nods as he gets to his feet. “Say no more. I’ll just, uh…” He fumbles, looking around for something to do, then crosses the room to take the open seat next to the sad pile of magazines. “…do a little light reading.” He picks up one at the top of the stack, holding it up for you both to witness. “Oh look, the queen died!”
You bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, but Jimin’s face is surprisingly serious when you look back at him. “I just want to say one thing,” he murmurs, voice low, “and then I’ll leave you alone.”
Nerves settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight. “Jimin,” you start, and when he opens his mouth to keep talking, you blurt out the first thing you can think of.
“I’m sorry,” you say in unison, and there’s a beat where you both blink, equally taken aback by the other’s apology. It’s quiet apart from the rumble of the laundry machines and the distinct sound of Hoseok smacking the magazine over his mouth, clearly more invested in your plot line.
You break the silence first. “Wait, why are you sorry?”
Jimin’s eyes drop down to the floor, one black boot toeing nervously at the tile. “I figured you were upset with me because I didn’t warn you.”
Your eyes widen in surprise when you play your initial conversation back. “Oh my god— when I said graduate studio art, you… you knew.”
He nods, somewhat remorseful. “I was kind of hoping that maybe it would be a different class, but. Yeah. I figured. I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”
“No, no,” you interrupt. “I get it. I’m not mad, obviously I didn’t even put it together until right now.” You pause for a second and can’t help but smile a little. “And, I mean, how do you just casually work that into your first conversation with someone? ‘Great talking to you, ready to see my dick in five minutes?’”
Jimin’s head tips back when he laughs, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. “Right.”
You can feel your own face grow hot as you realize what you’ve just said. “God, sorry, I didn’t mean to— clearly I don’t know how to handle this. That’s why I wanted to apologize, for avoiding you and being weird.” You twist your hands uncomfortably in your lap. “I’ve just never been in this situation before, and I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to talk given… the…” Every cell in your body screams at you not to say the word ‘dick’ again. “Yeah. I thought it might be easier to keep my distance. Keep it separate.”
Jimin’s eyes drift back up to find yours, and his casual beauty is so stunning, it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He shrugs softly. “I mean, maybe it would be. But I don’t want to.”
“Great,” you manage a laugh, still breathless. “Because I nearly died on a Citibike the day I didn’t take the subway.”
He laughs, too. “Not gonna lie, I missed seeing you on the train.” You’re not expecting it when he extends a hand out. “Friends?”
You realize belatedly that he’s offering a handshake, and you gently take his hand in yours. His skin is soft and warm, a contrast to the cool metal of his rings that press into your palm as he squeezes.
“Friends,” you echo with a smile, squeezing back.
There’s a sudden thump and a cackle as Hoseok falls out of his chair with a peal of laughter. “You are so fucking weird, Jimin-ah!” he gasps from his spot on the floor. “Who shakes hands?!”
The two of them keep you more than entertained until the buzzers on their dryers sound a second apart from each other. You learn that Hoseok and Jimin are roommates, that they met as dance majors in their undergrad program, and that Hoseok now works as an adjunct instructor and freelance choreographer.
“Because some of us decided we wanted to actually make money instead of digging ourselves further into debt,” he explains with a sly grin and smack delivered to the back of Jimin’s head.
You watch as they meticulously fold, Hoseok regularly leaning over to redo Jimin’s work and chide him about wrinkles, and then they stack the clean laundry back into their bags and head for the exit.
“Bye, new friend!” Hoseok calls as he maneuvers the door open with his foot, and Jimin pauses at the threshold, the bell overhead tinkling gently.
“So… guess I’ll see you on the train?” he asks, like he’s still a little unsure, and your heartbeat flutters.
“Guess so.”
“Cool.” He gives you one last soft smile before he disappears after Hoseok. The bell sounds again when the door shuts behind him, as if to snap you back to reality.
The floating feeling in your stomach doesn’t quite dissipate even long after Jimin has left the laundromat. While you wait on your clothes, you flip to a blank page in your sketchbook and start on something new: the outline of a hand extended in mid-air, rings glinting like an offered promise.
~*~
The next week, Jimin is waiting for you on your morning subway ride, the dance bag that he usually keeps tucked between his legs set on the bench next to him. When he sees you step through the train doors at 51st, you watch him reach over to swing the bag down to its rightful place on the floor, freeing up the space. An open invitation.
You can’t help but feel a little shy as you sink down next to him and murmur your thanks. There’s something about being this close to him that just makes your mind go blank, puts you at a loss for words entirely.
To your surprise, he doesn’t try to strike up conversation either. Instead he plucks one fancy bluetooth earbud out of his ear, gives it a diplomatic swipe across the fabric of his joggers, then holds it up, pinched between his fingers in front of you.
Another invitation, you realize dumbly.
The corner of your mouth turns up as you pluck the bud out of his hand and press it into your own ear. The music that must have paused itself upon the earbud’s removal resumes, and your smile grows when Jimin quickly unlocks his phone to restart the song from the beginning.
An acoustic guitar and a light, pretty voice fill your ear, underscored by a gentle yet driving beat, not unlike the rumble of the train beneath your feet. It’s like the rest of the world fades away to nothing as you stare down at his sneakers next to your shoes, hyper-aware of the mere inch or two of space between you in this moment.
As if to prove your point, the train comes to a sharp stop, enough to make you slide a little on the bench and then you’re suddenly not just close but touching, all the way down, an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee.
When you look over in surprise, Jimin is already looking back at you. You swear you can feel warmth radiating out from him at every point where your bodies press together.
After another dazed moment, you come to your senses enough to scoot over, breaking the contact with an embarrassed laugh as you feel your face grow hot.
Your gaze drifts back down to the floor, only to snap up again at another brush of contact, this one not initiated by you or by the motion of the train. Instead, you realize Jimin has spread his legs an inch wider to purposefully touch his knee to yours again and leave it there. You blink softly as you look over at him, but he’s staring firmly out the window of the subway car now, smiling with just his eyes.
For the rest of the ride, you think of little else but Jimin’s knee pressed against yours and the pretty pink flush in his cheeks.
You stay in comfortable silence, music floating in your ears as you exit the train at Astor Place together, until you reach the studio, where you finally return the borrowed earbud. He smiles as he tucks them both back into the case, then pushes open the door and gestures for you to enter first.
Jimin shoots you a final look before your paths diverge, and you sink into your seat with a small, dreamy sigh. Your bliss is short-lived when you hear Taehyung’s voice over your shoulder.
“That was fast.”
You whip around to shoot him a look. “What was fast?”
He makes a face, like it’s obvious. “You’re already banging the model and it’s been, what, two weeks?”
Taehyung’s just close enough that you can lean forward and smack him on the arm, and he hisses in a way that has to be an exaggeration. Thankfully he seems to take the hint, and manages to actually keep his mouth shut as the professor commands everyone’s attention at the center of the room.
When Jimin emerges in the usual black satin, you try to keep your composure, but you can’t ignore the chill that dots up your spine when he lets the fabric fall to the floor.
Nevertheless, you sink into the routine of class, the thrill of Jimin’s naked body now equal parts familiar and exhilarating. The only difference is that today, when you’re dismissed, you make no effort to quickly pack up. You instead purposefully take your time, adding a few extra details to your last sketch before you finally start putting things away. Your gaze flickers up distractedly to see Jimin pulling his dressing gown back over his body as he moves to close the distance between you.
“Hi,” he says simply when he reaches your easel, and you smile.
“Hi.”
“Sorry, is, uh— is it okay that I talk to you, when I’m—” He gestures vaguely to his lower half with one hand, using the other to keep himself covered.
You swallow hard at the thin layer of fabric and everything you know lies beneath it. “Yeah, it’s okay,” you say, hating how breathless you sound.
“When are you done with classes today?”
It takes an extra second for you to remember your own schedule. “Uh, six.”
Jimin fidgets with the satin material in his hands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. “Would you… want to get dinner after? With me?”
Your stomach flutters as you nod. “Yeah, yes. I’d like that.”
~*~
When you emerge from your last class, you find Jimin waiting for you on Astor Place, and you’re not expecting it when he greets you with a single question: “Do you like sushi?” You answer affirmatively, and he nods over his shoulder. “Then let’s walk this way.”
You end up tucked into two seats at a place you’ve never been to before, where rolls and other plates of food zip past you on a steadily moving conveyor belt. Jimin shows you how to pop the plates out from their protective domes, and you gather a small feast of options on the table between you to share.
“So,” you start with a nervous smile, chopsticks hovering in midair. “Can I ask the obvious question?”
He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”
“What made you decide to nude model?” The words alone send fresh waves of heat and nerves through you, sparkling in your chest. “Or have you done it before?”
“I haven’t,” Jimin confirms with a shake of his head, then he pops a piece of sushi in his mouth as if to buy himself time. He chews, bringing a hand up as he speaks with his mouth still half-full. “Do you want the real answer?”
You nod, and his adam’s apple jerks as he swallows. There’s a look on his face like he isn’t quite sure what to say, and then he exhales a weighty sigh. “I’ve struggled with my body for a really long time. Especially in undergrad.”
Your eyes widen slightly— you weren’t expecting such a serious response.
“Dance doesn’t typically have the best culture for that to begin with,” he continues, “and I’d spend literally all day staring at myself in a mirror, so I would just… pick myself apart. Always convinced I wasn’t good enough, that I needed to lose more weight, always.”
The thought of it makes your heart ache, but you let him talk.
“I’m through the worst of it now, so please don’t feel like you need to be worried. But I have some friends who’ve done this kind of thing before and it seemed like, I don’t know, a good challenge?” His brow creases, contemplative. “I really love art, so I thought maybe if I did it, I might be able to see my body in a new way, through the eyes of other people. Of artists.” He pauses, then nods, like he’s said his piece.
It takes you a second to respond. “That’s… beautiful, Jimin.”
He looks down, clearly a little uncomfortable. “Sorry if that was too heavy.”
“I can take it,” you say softly, and it’s enough to make him glance back up in surprise. “Thank you for telling me.”
A faint color floods his face. “Thanks for listening.”
You eat in a silence that’s oddly comfortable, and when you both reach for the same piece of sushi and end up knocking chopsticks together, he lets you have it, picking up the thread of conversation again as he smiles. “What got you into art?”
You make a face, chased by an unsure shrug. “Is it bad if I say it’s the only thing I feel like I’m good at?”
Jimin laughs a little. “I don’t know that I believe you.”
“I mean,” you lean back in your seat. “Maybe not the only thing, but I’ve just never been able to see myself doing anything else. I’m not cut out for the corporate life, as much as my parents wish I was. Art’s always been the thing that I go to in my free time. When I’m feeling so much that it’s overwhelming, or so numb that it’s like I can’t feel anything, the act of creating something just… brings me back to center again.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s an outlet, I guess.”
“Well, if it helps, you’re very good at it.”
“Thanks,” you say with a small smile. “But it’s not even about being good, at least not to me. Maybe it sounds weird, but I don’t really have any interest in being the best. It’s art, so it’s all subjective anyway. I just wanna make stuff.”
Jimin smirks as he adds another empty plate to the growing stack in front of you, tongue poking briefly at the inside of his cheek before he speaks. “I could stand to be more like you.”
“Your turn,” you shoot back. “Why dance?”
At this, he actually brings a hand up to cover his face, and his voice is muffled under his palm when he responds. “I can tell you exactly why, but it’s embarrassing.”
You shift a little in your chair to get a better look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed! It’s not like I—” you cut yourself off before you can very obviously finish the sentence with ‘haven’t seen your dick’, and you shove a piece of sushi in your mouth to shut yourself up, so fast you nearly choke.
Jimin laughs loudly into his hands, and then you’re laughing too, dropping your head down on the table to try and chew your food without asphyxiating.
“Okay, okay,” he gasps when he can finally manage to take a breath in. “I’ll tell you.”
He sets his chopsticks down, overly serious. “When I was little, I was obsessed with Titanic. Specifically the scene where they dance together, and Rose rises up on her toes in front of everyone.” There are practically stars in his eyes as he recounts the moment, and you can’t bear to cut him off. “I just thought she was so beautiful, and I wanted to be like that. Almost broke my toes trying to go en pointe barefoot like an idiot.”
You’re silent for a moment, and there’s a flicker of panic in Jimin’s face, like he’s worried he overshared. “I have to be honest,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Titanic.”
His eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”
Already expecting the reaction, you grimace and nod. “I know, I know. Everyone gets mad at me for it. Go ahead.”
Jimin’s eyes flit from your face to the remaining piece of sushi on the plate between you, then back again. “I mean, we can go solve this problem right now, if you want.” He pauses, then admits with a giggle, “I have it on DVD.”
You shrug, trying to act casual despite the way your pulse has started to quicken. “They canceled my morning seminar for tomorrow, so I’m down.”
He leans forward to steal the last piece of sushi with a smug smile. “Then let’s get out of here.”
It’s a short train ride back to Jimin’s place, and you make it in the front door just in time to see Hoseok slipping out of what looks to be his bedroom. You barely process him as the same person— tonight his dark hair is swept off his forehead, and he’s in nice dress pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned just enough to display the delicate spread of his collarbone.
“Hi kids!” he calls in greeting, and you wave back as you kick your shoes off.
Hoseok crosses to grab a mirrored pair of aviators and his keys off the table by the front door. “Daddy’s going out. You two have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s waiting for a joke to land, then cracks a grin. “By which I obviously mean do whatever the fuck you want.”
As Hoseok pulls the door shut behind him, you follow Jimin into the living room, where you perch nervously on the edge of the couch while he disappears into the kitchen. “Do you like prosecco?” he asks, raising his voice slightly to be heard.
“Uh, I think so,” you say unsurely. “I don’t think I ever developed enough of a palette to have wine preferences.”
“White and sparkling?”
“Sounds good,” you respond, and then you hear the distinct noise of a cork popping before he returns with a bottle and two glasses in hand. He sets everything on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to you, then leans forward to fill both glasses nearly to the brim.
Jimin’s face flushes when you giggle softly at the pour. “Sorry— I like to drink. You don’t have to finish it all.” You shrug and take a healthy pull from your glass. It’s crisp and light, with little bubbles that fizz and pop all the way down. 
“Hoseok calls me a lush,” he admits with a shy laugh as he picks up his own drink and turns to face you, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You shift to mirror him, curling your socked feet up under you. He takes a sip, then seems to think better of it, leaning forward to set his glass down on the table again. “I did want to tell you something. A couple of things, I guess.”
The sentence makes your stomach twist, and you try your best to ignore it. “What’s up?”
Jimin’s lips press together for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out how to word whatever he’s about to say. “I’m not, like, trying to be presumptuous by telling you this but I just— I don’t want it to go unsaid and then come up later and be a whole big thing, so. I just want you to know that Hoseok is my ex.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but certainly not that.
“We dated freshman year of undergrad, for… maybe three months? It was the kind of thing where I knew I was bi in high school but was too scared to act on it, so when I moved to New York I just, like, dated the first gay person I met? Which was probably a little shitty of me. We quickly realized we work much better as friends, and it was a very mutual thing. No hard feelings.”
You nod slowly, trying to keep up. “And you’ve lived together since then?”
“No, no,” Jimin replies quickly, and he nearly grimaces as he continues. “At the end of last semester, I, uh… I got out of a pretty bad long-term relationship.” The way he says it makes your heart sink a little. “And she and I lived together, so Hoseok was extremely gracious and offered to take me in.”
He reaches for his glass of wine again, then pauses with it halfway to his mouth. “Ideally the number of exes I’d be living with would be zero, but. You know. This is definitely the better option, at least until I can figure out what comes next.”
A pause settles between you while he takes a long drink and you try to process all this new information. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” you say softly, and he shakes his head as he swallows.
“Don’t be. It was a very good thing. Long overdue.”
“Well,” you correct yourself, the corners of your mouth pulling up. “Then I’m sorry that it took so long.”
At this, he smiles back. “Me fuckin’ too.”
After one more sip, Jimin sets his wine back down on the coffee table, then rolls off the couch— surprisingly graceful— to retrieve Titanic from the small collection of movies lined up on the shelf beneath the TV.
“Ready?”
“This better have a happy ending,” you murmur over the edge of your wine glass. Jimin laughs so hard he nearly tips over.
He settles next to you again as the movie starts, painted pretty in the blue glow of the TV, and you try your best to watch the movie, but it’s hard to keep your eyes off him. Partway through you notice him grab a pillow off the back of the couch and hug both of his arms around it, curling up small.
Cute, you can’t help but think to yourself, and you can feel heat settle in your face as you try to refocus on the story.
When you reach the dancing scene Jimin sits up a little, lips parting slightly, that same starry look in his eyes as when he explained it initially. The mental image of a younger version of him equally enraptured by the moment nearly makes your chest cave in.
The movie goes on, and you’re draining the last of your second glass of wine when out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin’s eyes go wide. Jack and Rose are closely examining a rare diamond necklace, and you don’t understand what he could be reacting to until Kate Winslet delivers her next line.
“Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”
Your eyes go just as wide as Jimin’s, and you let out a laugh of disbelief that’s nearly a scream. “Oh my fucking god, Park Jimin! You did this on purpose!”
“I swear, I didn’t! I didn’t even think about that part until right now!” He shakes his head desperately as he gasps for air, and he doubles over with his own laughter, rolling right off the couch, arms still clutched tightly around his pillow.
“I literally cannot believe this.” You dissolve into giggles as you sink to your knees on the floor beside him, close to tears.
It takes time for you both to recover, but Jimin eventually manages to pull himself back up to sitting, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter. He lets the pillow drop to the floor and presses both of his palms down into it as he leans towards you. “But hey, maybe that’s why I like you.”
He’s so magnetic, so beautiful, you can’t help but lean in, too. “You like me?”
There’s a warm glow of color in his cheeks, and you’re not sure if you can blame it entirely on the wine. “I do.”
Your lingering smile slowly starts to soften, and now your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. “So what, you’re Rose and I’m Jack?”
His gaze drops to your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “Uh-huh”. Imaginary violins swell in your head as you surge forward to close the distance and press your lips to his.
Jimin’s lips are soft and warm, and your head spins as you sit up on your knees and lean into the kiss. While his mouth moves gently against yours, his palms press to the small of your back, and the heat of his hands radiates through the thin fabric of your shirt. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, partially for balance and partially in an attempt to pull him closer to you.
He tilts his head, and you whimper against him when you feel his tongue trace delicately over your bottom lip. He returns a breathy noise back as he licks slowly into your mouth, like he’s taking his time, like he’s not in any rush.
Even though you can feel your arousal starting to build, heavy in your gut and slick between your thighs, you realize: you want him to take his time with you.
You’re surprised at the loss when he suddenly leans back, just enough to break the kiss, still keeping you held close. “Is it, um—” he clears his throat, then tries again. “I don’t… want to go any further. Than this. At least not tonight. Is that okay?”
Your eyes search his, and you’re a little breathless when you manage to get the words out. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m good with that. With whatever you want.”
“Okay.” You exhale a laugh when he reaches over to find the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. “I want to keep kissing you, if that’s alright.”
“Yes, please,” you murmur against his lips.
Jimin shifts a little, and you follow his lead, letting him tip you backwards onto the floor, your arms still looped around his neck, one hand now tangling in his honey blonde hair. He drops a forearm down to the carpet beside you, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist, knees bracketing your hips as he covers your body with his.
He alternates between sucking on your lower lip and gentle passes of his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist tracing a lazy path down to your hip and back up again. Something pulled tight inside you starts to slowly unwind, blooming open as you sink into the rhythm, into him.
It’s been such a long time since you’ve just kissed someone like this, without it feeling like part of a race to get naked. And you’ve never been kissed like this in your life— so soft, so attentive. It’s enough to make you dizzy, even with your back pressed flat to the floor.
You lose track of how much time passes as you trade open-mouthed kisses on Jimin’s living room carpet, until he finally pulls away again. Still in a daze, you shift the hand in his hair to gently cup his face, not quite able to believe that he’s really real.
“God,” Jimin breathes, laughing quietly to himself. “I really like you.”
You smile as you blink up at him. “I like you too, Jimin.” 
Rolling over, he drops down onto the floor next to you with a blissed-out sigh. He stretches his arms overhead, spine arching like a cat, then lifts up again to glance back at you. “Do you want more wine? ‘Cause we’re only like halfway done. This movie is stupid long.”
“I could go for more,” you answer with a shrug, still smiling.
In one swift move, Jimin flips his legs over his head and effortlessly somersaults up to standing, and your eyes go wide. “How do you fucking do that?!”
“I’m a trained professional!” he calls over his shoulder as he sashays into the kitchen. You giggle a little. “I would break every bone in my body.”
He’s humming prettily to himself, and you hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, followed by the pop of another bottle being uncorked. You pull yourself back onto the couch as he rejoins you and pours fresh wine into both glasses, and a sudden curiosity urges you to ask a question. “Is Titanic your favorite movie?”
Jimin shakes his head, but says nothing, and the strange hesitant expression that flashes over his face just makes you that much more intrigued.
“Let’s hear it.”
His eyes flit over to you, then back to the wine glasses. “You’ll laugh.”
“I won’t!” you exclaim, lifting a hand when he scrunches up his nose, doubtful. “Promise.”
With a reluctant sigh, Jimin sets the bottle back down on the table, staring straight ahead as he admits, “It’s The Notebook.”
You press your lips together, trying desperately to keep your mouth in a straight line. At least you manage not to laugh. “I— wow. Really?”
He nods like the reaction is expected, picking up his wine glass and settling back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know, there’s just something about it. It’s comforting, to me.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you murmur, gently nudging his thigh with your foot until you coax a smile out of him.
“You know what?” Jimin’s voice is thoughtful now, more self-assured. “I am.” He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. “For a long time I didn’t want to be. Or thought that I couldn’t be. I used to always try to be so. I don’t know. Masculine, I guess. I think some of it had to do with denying my sexuality, but even once I got around to accepting that, there was still this part of me that would just never allow myself to be… soft.”
His gaze drops down to the wine in his glass, and you sit up, tucking your legs underneath you to scoot closer to him until you’re side by side. “I like you soft,” you say simply, and he looks over at you, still smiling.
“If we watch The Notebook I will cry.”
“That’s okay.” You lean into him to seek a kiss, made sweet from the wine. He hums a little against your lips before you pull back. “Same time next week?”
~*~
Just like that, you fall into a regular routine with Jimin: sharing his headphones on the morning train, sketching out the shape of his body in studio, then picking up takeout and wine to bring back to his place and split over a movie. As predicted, The Notebook does make him cry, and when you show him Kimi no Na wa the week after, hot tears stream down your face at the final scene, the way they always do.
He takes your head in his hands as the credits roll, his thumbs swiping at errant tears on your cheeks. You chase a sniffle with an embarrassed laugh. “Okay. We’re even now.”
On your fourth movie night, partway into Moulin Rouge, something emboldens you when you see Jimin reach for his usual couch pillow. You lean over and gently pry it out of his grip, then shift to tuck yourself into his side and curl your legs up in his lap instead.
“Better?”
“Mm-hmm”, he murmurs as he ducks down to nuzzle against your cheek. “You’re warm.”
These nights end the same way each time: you ride the train home with a wine-soaked buzz in your brain and flushed, kiss-bitten lips, your fingertips brushing over your own mouth at the memory of his.
Once a week quickly turns into more. The two of you coordinate laundromat afternoons where you listen to music together as you wait for your clothes. You usually end up drawing to pass the time, and sometimes Jimin dozes off, head tipping over onto your shoulder so gently that you can’t help but smile down at your sketchbook.
At his request, you help him dye his hair pink in his tiny apartment bathroom, and it somehow suits him just as well as honey blonde. You both get dizzy from laughter and cleaning product fumes as you desperately try to scrub the bubblegum stains out of the tile before Hoseok comes home.
When you finally introduce Jimin to your roommates, the four of you crammed all-too formally around the kitchen table over Yoongi’s cooking, the interaction feels like a cross between a job interview and a prom date meeting your parents. You choke on a piece of chicken that you nearly inhale when Namjoon offhandedly refers to Jimin as Subway Boy, and Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums as he gladly recounts your months-long crush in great detail while you bury your burning face in your arms.
But Jimin takes it in stride, laughs into your mouth as he kisses you over the sink while the two of you wash the dishes.
“Subway Boy, huh?”
“I will drown you,” you murmur as you pull away, brandishing the spray hose like a threat.
It’s easy and slow. This blossoming something, a nameless but undeniable spark, the calm comfort of Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers intertwined with yours, his head dropped down on your shoulder.
~*~
You dig your phone out of your pocket as you shoulder open the door to the dance building, pulling up the text from Jimin to double-check his practice room number. A train delay made you slightly later than your agreed-upon time, but you know the takeout bag of Indian food dangling over your wrist will easily earn you his forgiveness.
It doesn’t surprise you that he’s the only one left in the room when you find it, nor that he’s still reviewing the choreography with an expression of severe focus. You hover in the doorway, waiting for him to look up, but he’s entirely concentrated on his own reflection in the mirror.
His movements alternate between delicate and powerful, explosive and restrained, and you have to hold in an outright gasp when he launches his body into an aerial and lands it effortlessly. But then his feet falter in a split second of hesitation, and you can see his expression tighten, clearly frustrated.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he rubs a hand over his face, and he doesn’t even try to keep going with the rest of the dance. You take the opportunity to step a few more paces into the room, and his eyes jump to you in the mirror.
“Hi,” you say softly, suddenly a little nervous to be intruding on the moment. The corner of Jimin’s mouth turns up, but his eyes seem far away, and you can tell he’s still raging at himself in his mind.
“Hi, sorry,” he sighs. “I just— can’t get this. It’s like my body isn’t doing what I tell it to.”
“You need food.” You try to say it gently as you cross the room, holding up the smiley-face adorned plastic takeout bag. “And perhaps the enigmatic charm of Rachel McAdams.”
This seems to shake him out of his thoughts, at least a little. “I do like her.” He steps close enough to slip his arms around your waist and pull your body flush against his. Sweat glistens on his collarbone in the dim practice room lighting. “But I like you more.”
You roll your eyes as you playfully smack a hand against his solid chest. “Stop lying.”
“‘M not,” he insists as he presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Rachel McAdams has never once brought me masala dosa.” You giggle despite yourself, and when his lips drop down to your neck, it’s enough to make your breath hitch.
A spark ignites in your chest that doesn’t go out, not on the subway ride back to your apartment, not through dinner and a movie, and certainly not once you’re most of the way through the second bottle of wine. As the credits start to roll, you waste no time, turning in Jimin’s lap so you can properly straddle him and take his face in your hands.
You trade decadent, easy kisses, and Jimin’s hands settle at the small of your back, his thumbs massaging gentle circles into your hips. A shiver rolls up your spine when he shifts a little and you realize you can feel a growing bulge through the fabric of his joggers, pressed firm against your thigh. He breathes a soft sound into your mouth as his tongue slides over yours, and you’re so overwhelmed, you barely register the sound of keys in the lock or the front door opening.
It’s Jimin who reacts first, turning his head to break the kiss as his cheeks flood with color, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi storm past, heading for his room. He lifts a hand up to his face to shield you from view as he goes.
“Don’t stop on my account!” Yoongi’s voice is dripping with derision. “By all means, continue fucking on our shared furniture!”
“We’re fully clothed, asshole!” you snap in response as Yoongi slams the bedroom door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in the frame.
When you look back down at Jimin, his face is twisted in an expression you take to be embarrassment. You drop your head down on his shoulder with a frustrated groan, the moment successfully killed.
“Do you…” you pause, turning your head to the side but continuing to ask your question into the fabric of his shirt. “We could go to my room, for more privacy, if you want?”
He hums his agreement, and when you peel yourself off the couch and head for your room, he follows. You spin back around to face him in the doorway, so fast he nearly knocks into you.
You brace your hands on the doorframe as you survey him. “We really don’t have to… do anything, if you don’t want to. We can just talk.”
Jimin nods, and you step aside to let him enter first, pulling the door closed behind you as you follow. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, and you walk past him to drop down onto the floor next to your bed, then pat the carpet to encourage him to join. There’s a flash of something over his face, and then he sinks down beside you. It’s only now that you realize how quiet he’s gotten.
“What is it?” you ask, suddenly a little nervous.
He stares down at the soles of his feet, pressed into each other, his knees tipped open like butterfly wings. “Does it make you feel bad? That we’re not—”
“No,” you answer immediately, and the honesty of it resonates in your chest.
“I know we’ve been hanging out for a while,” he continues, voice low. “And I do want to, you know. Hook up.”
“Jimin,” you lean forward to place both of your hands over one of his, settled atop his knee. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. When you want to, I want to. But I like everything we’ve been doing, too. It’s not like we’re not… intimate.”
His gaze flits up from the floor to meet yours. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you.”
You close your fingers around his hand, pulling it off his leg and up to your face so you can brush your lips over his palm.
“I don’t think that at all,” you murmur against his skin. “Promise.”
There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes when you look back up at him. “Okay. Sorry, I know it’s stupid. Like why do I need reassurance from you when I’m the one being difficult?”
You press your cheek into the warmth of his hand, toying lazily with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you so convinced that you’re difficult?”
Jimin huffs a small sigh. “This conversation has not gone this well in the past.” His eyes drop to the floor again, and after a moment’s pause, he keeps talking.
“My ex and I struggled a lot with…” he shakes his head, as if he’s trying not to say ‘everything’. “Sex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as she’d touch me I’d get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.” He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.
You pull his hand into your lap, your fingers delicately tracing over his in an attempt to provide some comfort. He shrugs when he starts to speak again. “And then, I don’t know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but... she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.” Another pause, and this time he sniffs a little. When his eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling, you can see he’s holding back tears. “It felt like she didn’t want me anymore, not if there wasn’t sex. So I left.”
“Jimin,” you breathe, and he flashes you a small grimace, clearly embarrassed by his own dramatics. With a grunt of effort, he turns sideways and flops backwards onto the floor of your room, and you scoot closer to him, your hand still playing with his.
His gaze roams over the ceiling as he sighs. “I don’t want you to think I was this perfect person and she was some awful bitch. She loved me a lot, and I’m sure she was struggling with not feeling wanted either, in her own way.”
Your voice is soft when you interject. “Two people can just be… incompatible. It doesn’t mean either of them is a bad person, or that it’s anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work, no matter how hard you try.”
Jimin’s mouth pulls up on one side as he shakes his head, eyes squinting. “How did you get to be so smart?”
You can’t help but laugh a little, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. “Years of making terrible decisions.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze before you ask a question. “Did you struggle with this before, or just with her?”
His mouth twists slightly, unsure. “Yes and no? Both? My desire has always… fluctuated, I guess. Been a little shy.” A smile spreads over his face, and he hums a note. “Like, you know how people say love at first sight isn’t a thing? That it’s just lust?” You nod, prompting him to continue. “I think, at least for me, it’s the opposite. I can fall for somebody, and fall hard, like that.” He snaps loudly with his free hand. “But lust… I don’t know, it takes longer. It’s like a slow burn thing.”
You nod again, processing his words for a moment before you respond. “Well, I’m in no rush.”
Jimin sits up, voice thoughtful as he untangles his hand from yours, and it’s clear he’s getting more comfortable opening up to you. “Right after the breakup, I did a lot of research. I found this term, demisexual, that felt pretty accurate.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know. I mostly just think that... I am who I am. And the people who get it will get it. Like you.”
Before you can even speak, he sweeps an arm under your calves to drag you into his lap in one swift move, and you squeak a little in surprise as your world tilts.
“Demisexual. I like it,” you giggle as he guides your legs to wrap around his middle. His hands slide up your thighs, grabbing at your hips to tug you closer so he can trail kisses along your neck.
“Biromantic demisexual, technically,” he murmurs, head tipping up to find your mouth again.
You drape your arms over his shoulders and hum against his lips as he kisses you. “It suits you.”
Another soft noise escapes you when Jimin manages to maneuver to standing with you still in his arms. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and your legs around his waist, and his hands shift down to your ass to firmly hold you up. You squeeze your eyes shut automatically in fear of being dropped, then flutter them open again when you feel your back press into the soft cushion of your bedspread.
Jimin is hovering over you, forearms dropped down to the bed on either side of you. His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he leans in to kiss you again, so fiercely this time that it leaves you breathless. You can’t help but whimper as his tongue slips into your mouth.
When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to your collarbone with a groan. “It’s late,” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your neck. “I should go.”
You nod responsibly, despite how desperately you want him to stay.
You walk him out, and his sweet parting kiss leaves your heart hammering in your chest, enough that you slump against the frame with a sigh once you shut the door, your knees suddenly weak.
Light on your feet, you follow the faint noise of the TV to find Yoongi in the living room with Planet Earth on at a barely audible volume. He glances at you, his mouth a flat line, then reaches for the remote to turn the sound up a few notches. You drop down on the couch next to him, and it’s silent for a moment, save for the calm narration and the crinkling plastic of him tearing open a bag of Turtle Chips.
“How’d it go?” he finally asks, voice monotone.
“It’s good,” you answer softly. “We’re good.” You fold your legs up under yourself and sneak a look at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. You’re still a little pissed, but you also want advice. Damn him for knowing everything.
“Have you heard the term ‘demisexual’ before?”
Yoongi nods, still chewing as he replies. “Yeah. Like asexual spectrum, right?”
You shrug. “I guess. It’s new to me.”
He shoves a few more chips in his mouth before he continues. “Is that what your Subway Boy is?”
“I think so, yeah.”
There’s a long pause while you watch penguins march across the screen, and you think that might be the end of it. Then Yoongi clears his throat. “You know, I’m somewhere in there too. Not completely asexual, but definitely not… not.”
Your eyes widen. “Really?”
Yoongi snorts. “Don’t act so shocked. These walls aren’t that thick.”
“Is Joon?”
He smirks, like you’ve just told a joke. “Decidedly not.”
“Oh.” You blink, trying to process. “How do you deal with it?”
Yoongi makes a face, like he’s never thought about it before. “We just communicate, I guess. Be respectful even when we don’t necessarily understand. And, like, Namjoon watches porn, and surprisingly reads quite a bit of erotica—”
“Okay, okay,” you cut him off. “I don’t need all the details.”
He huffs a dry laugh at your discomfort. “It’s not always easy, sometimes it’s frustrating for both of us. But we make it work. We love each other.”
You chew a little at the inside of your cheek, and then you can’t hold in the question any longer. “Is it weird that the idea doesn’t bother me? Jimin said it was a huge issue with his ex. Like, does that make me on the… spectrum?”
Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, you might be? But not necessarily? I don’t know, sex matters different amounts to everyone. Some people don’t mind not having it that often. You don’t have to put a label on it unless you want to, you know?”
“Yeah, makes sense.” You nod slowly as you digest the idea. “Thanks, Yoongi. I appreciate the education.”
His only answer at first is a noncommittal hum, and then he points a finger at the few inches of wine in the bottle you left sitting on the coffee table. “Gonna finish that?”
“It’s all yours,” you say. “Consider it atonement for going to first base on the couch.”
Yoongi grabs the bottle by the neck and immediately drains it. “Apology accepted,” he grunts as he sets it back down. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He extends his bag of chips in your direction and you happily reach in for the biggest handful you can manage.
~*~
During your next movie night, Jimin can’t keep his hands to himself.
They pet up your thighs, your legs draped over his, then slide up to your hips, fingertips tracing patterns over the waistband of your leggings and toying at the hem of your shirt.
His mouth has a similar problem: he leans in to press kisses along the line of your jaw, then down the slope of your neck, sucking delicately at the spot that makes your nipples tighten and sends a shiver through you.
“You’re missing the movie,” you remark, raking a hand through his peachy-pink hair, shadowed at the roots where his natural color has started to grow in. He’s typically good about keeping himself restrained until the credits roll, but you’re barely halfway through Pride & Prejudice, haven’t even cracked a second bottle yet.
“Fuck the movie,” he growls against your skin, and you bite back a whimper when his teeth scrape over your neck. You can’t ignore the way your core is starting to ache from his insistent mouth.
His lips find yours again, and you giggle softly into him. “You’re in a mood.”
“Just been thinking about you,” he murmurs between kisses. It surprises you a little when he suddenly pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. “Should we— do you want to go to my room?”
The air hangs still and heavy between you, and you worry at your bottom lip for a moment. “Are you sure?” When he nods, dark brown eyes blinking up at you, your mouth turns up at the corner. “I’d rather we not traumatize any more roommates if we can help it.”
You lean over to pause the movie before sliding off his lap and getting to your feet, and then you reach your hands out for his and pull him up next to you. “Come on.”
Jimin’s bedroom is so perfectly him that it relaxes you, feather-soft comfort every time you step inside. His bed isn’t made, because it never is, the thick white duvet pushed down on one side where he stumbled out from beneath it this morning. He keeps it dark, blackout curtains drawn to support his night owl lifestyle, and the room is bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights he’s strung up along the ceiling. A myriad of posters and art prints and polaroids are taped to the walls, some beautiful, others sentimental— he even managed to coax you into tearing a few of his favorites out of your sketchbook. You still don’t think they’re anything special, but nevertheless, it makes your heart squeeze in your chest to see them on display with everything else. Like they belong here in this room, like you do too.
The door clicks as it shuts behind him, and then his mouth is on yours again, kissing you dizzy while he backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He guides you to lay down, and his hand slips beneath you to drag you up the bed with him as he crawls over you.
His hands come up to tug at your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he breathes.
You nod, staring up at him and not quite able to believe any of this is real. “You can do anything you want to me.” With a smile, he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you sit up a little so he can pull it the rest of the way off.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, then down between the valley of your breasts. His hands slip down to palm at your tits, squeezing gently, and he mouths at the stiff peaks of your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette. You untangle briefly, only for as long as it takes to get the lacy thing off of you entirely and tossed over the edge of the bed.
You shiver a little as the air hits your bare skin, and then the warmth of his body covers you again, and he ducks down to close his mouth over your nipple and suck. The plush softness of his lips and the firm suction combined are enough to make your eyes roll back, and your spine arches up beneath him when he drags his tongue in a circle over the sensitive bud.
“Shit,” you groan. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, and it feels like your only tether to reality.
It’s easy to believe it’s the waiting, the anticipation of this moment, that makes every little touch light you up like a live wire now. But something tells you it will always feel like this.
While his lips shift to your other breast, one hand slides down to cup your clothed pussy, rubbing gentle friction into your center. You circle your hips to press yourself against the flat of his palm, sighing at the brush of indirect contact and the heat that thrums through you from the pressure on your clit.
You feel Jimin’s weight shift on the mattress as he kneels next to you, and his lips find yours again at the same time his hand slips into your leggings, two fingers tracing the seam of your panties to make you whine softly. If he couldn’t tell before, he must be able to now: how wet you are, enough to drench the lacy fabric so it clings to your cunt, dripping arousal to show how badly you want him.
He’s surprisingly forceful when he tugs the damp fabric to the side, but so gentle again as he slips one finger and then a second into your tight heat. Your mouth drops open as he curls them up to rub at your g-spot, stroking into you over and over while your cunt squeezes tight around him.
Your head drops back on the pillow and you groan. “Oh, fuck, Jimin.”
You can hear how soaked your pussy is as he pumps into you, and the wet squelch of his fingers working inside you would make you shy if it didn’t feel so overwhelmingly perfect. The pleasure edges your breathing with soft sounds, and Jimin swallows them when he kisses you again.
He shifts slightly for a better angle and then you feel the heel of his palm grind down against your clit. It’s enough to make your hips buck up under him with every press of his hand, his insistent touch shooting sparks of arousal through you.
It’s been so long since anyone has touched you, and you’ve wanted this with him so badly for so long, but even still, it surprises you how quickly he can bring you to the edge.
“Jimin,” you break the kiss to gasp against his mouth, unable to believe how close you already are. Close enough that all you can do is cling, to any part of him you can reach: his hair, his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt. “Jimin, Jimin, fuck.”
“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he groans, and he says the next part softer, like it’s just for him. “My girl looks so pretty on my fingers.”
The pace of his movements doesn’t falter, nor does the heavy weight of his palm as he ducks down to capture your nipple in his mouth again. Your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in to the last knuckle with each thrust of his hand, and your nails dig desperately into his forearm as you feel your orgasm crest.
His teeth graze lightly over the tight bud of your breast, and it’s enough. With a final whine, the arousal that’s been coiling inside you snaps, and your back arches up off the bed as you come hard on his fingers.
Jimin’s fingers keep stroking you through it, the flat of his palm rubbing rough circles against your clit again and again and again and it feels like you might never stop coming. You moan as it rolls over you, wave after wave, until his touch is so overwhelming that you have to pull your trembling thighs together, and he finally relents.
Spent, your body sinks heavy into the bed, and you can’t help the dazed giggle that flutters out as afterglow starts to bloom behind your ribs.
Jimin hovers over you, dropped down onto his forearms, full lips pressing indiscriminately to your flushed skin, all over. You snake a hand through his hair to pull his mouth up to yours, and he kisses you slow and deep.
When you break apart, you tip your forehead to his. “Can I touch you?” you ask, still a little breathless.
“Please,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours again before he pulls away with a small, embarrassed smile. “My pants hurt.”
You sit up on your knees and he does too, and you bite down on your lip as you reach for the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it over his head, and then there he is, beautiful as ever. Familiar, yet somehow all new.
Jimin shivers and whines when your hands run across the bare skin of his chest, teasing over his soft brown nipples before starting to trace a path down to his stomach. You lean in to kiss him, and he outright groans into your mouth when your fingertips tease along the band of his boxers that peeks out over his jeans. You gently bring your palms to his hips to guide him, and he’s pliant for you, shifting backwards at your suggestion until he’s seated, leaned back against the headboard.
Your hands shake slightly as you unbutton and push down his jeans, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh of relief. He’s so hard, you can understand why the tight denim must have been painful: his dick is still straining even now, a thick outline pressed into the fabric of his underwear, and there’s a dark patch that clings to his tip where he’s started to leak precum.
You tug his boxers down with enough force that his length smacks heavy against his stomach, and he makes a strangled noise in response, eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerk violently beneath you, and your jaw goes slack as you watch his cock twitch, and keep twitching, until a steady pool of milky gloss has leaked out over his stomach.
“Shit,” Jimin hisses as he comes practically untouched, and he gasps for air to try to speak. “Fuck fuck fuck— ‘msorry, thought I could—”
You can see him starting to spiral, can feel the panic starting to heat up inside his body, so you take his face in both of your hands. “Jimin.”
“This has never happened before— fuck, I don’t— this is so—”
“Jimin.” When you say his name again, firmer this time, he goes quiet, his eyes still shut tight. “Look at me,” you murmur, and he does, lashes slow-blinking open. “It’s okay. Okay?” Your gaze searches his, trying to convince him. “I like everything about you. Everything you do. You’re perfect.”
Clearly trying to steady his breathing, his chest shudders with effort, and you gently circle your thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He makes a soft noise as his eyelids drop shut again, his cheek pressing into your hand, letting you carry a little bit more of his weight.
It’s quiet for a moment, and his voice is unsure when he speaks. “There’s tissues… in the—”
“Can I take care of it?” you interrupt to ask, your voice low. His eyes blink open again to look at you, and a dark glint flickers there as the unsaid meaning of your question washes over him.
“Y-yeah.”
You take your time moving down the bed to settle between Jimin’s thighs, and you stare up at him, waiting for any indication that he wants you to stop or doesn’t feel comfortable. But he just swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking in his throat, and nods.
Leaning down, you drag your tongue in steady, long strokes over the flat plane of his stomach to lick the mess up.
As you get the last of it, you’re surprised to feel his hand cup the back of your head. You don’t resist when he pulls you up for a kiss, then licks into your mouth to taste himself, the salt and slick of his cum sliding between your tongues.
When you break apart to swallow, Jimin’s voice is a whisper. “That okay?”
You nod, unable to bite back your smile. “You’re… really fucking hot.”
He smirks as he finds your lips again. “So are you.” The next kiss is sweeter, and then he pulls back. “If you want, we can keep— or I can go down— I don’t want—” He can’t finish any of his half-started thoughts, and you smile, lovingly running your palms over his thighs, back and forth. 
You want him so badly, more than anything, but you try to breathe through it. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, that self-critical flash in his eyes, the same furrow in his brow that creases when he gets frustrated with himself.
“I’m not saying no because I don’t want you,” you preface. “But I just don’t want you to feel stressed or get in your head about it. I want it to feel good, and I’m in no rush. Next time, okay?” 
His lips are still a little pouted, but he nods, and you lean in to sling your arms around his neck. “C’mere.”
You tug him down to the mattress, and your half-naked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, hands tracing gentle patterns over bare skin as you kiss.
When you eventually end up with your cheek pressed to his chest, you listen to the sound of his heartbeat settling, his breathing evening out. You speak softly in the quiet of his room. “My roommate’s doing an exhibition on Friday. Will you come with me? I’ve been promised there will be free booze.”
Jimin tightens his grip on your waist, his voice slurring like he’s half-asleep. “Mmm, my favorite person and my favorite thing.” There’s a pause, and he sighs. “That sounded bad. Promise I'm not an alcoholic.”
“I know,” you laugh, dragging your lips over his collarbone, then grunting a little noise of frustration as reality starts to set in. “I have class early tomorrow. I should go before I fall asleep here.”
He whines his disapproval, but when you glance up you can see the fight going out of him, his eyelids starting to flutter closed. You lean up for one, two, three more kisses before you force yourself out of bed to find your bra and your shirt. “I’ll see you Friday?”
“Mmkay.” He inhales deep, like he’s coming up for air. “Text me when you make it home safe?”
“I will,” you promise, and you do.
~*~
Namjoon’s exhibition is laughably fancy for what really just ends up being a room full of gay, overdressed art students. The ridiculous finger foods disappear in minutes— all the broke grad school kids came hungry— but you and Jimin gladly hover around the table of champagne flutes instead, giggles sparkling between you like the bubbles that fizz in your glasses.
You’ve been trying to drag him away to actually take in the art, but he keeps necking his drinks. “You’re supposed to sip it, you demon!” you chide with a laugh as he does it again, picking up a fresh glass and throwing all of it back in one gulp.
He smirks slightly as he shakes his head. “It’s more fun this way. Try it.”
You roll your eyes, hiding the grin that threatens to stretch over your face in the rim of your drink before following suit. He’s not wrong: a rush of warmth creeps up your neck as you swallow, the world softening around you, and it’s made sweeter by the kiss Jimin leans in for. When he pulls back you can see his face is flushing, too.
“Come on, Mr. Park,” you murmur, your free hand intertwining with his as you set the empty glass down and retrieve another. “Take me on a tour.”
Jimin grabs another flute too and then you’re off, and he actually manages to drink this one slowly as you weave through the gallery, the click of your footsteps underscoring the gentle classical music that floats through the speakers. You lean into Jimin in comfortable silence as you take in each art piece, sipping delicately at your champagne, occasionally hooking your chin over his shoulder just for the thrill of being close to him.
“These are all beautiful,” he hums appreciatively as you stand in front of a wide, impressionist landscape, swirls of color that shift into shapes when you step far enough away, but dissolve into unidentifiable blobs of thick-textured paint up close. “Namjoon did a really good job curating.”
“Mm-hmm,” you nod, but your eyes are on Jimin and everything else pales in comparison. He’s dressed up for the occasion, tight black jeans and a white button-down with a leather jacket thrown on over top. His hair is styled, pretty pink strands pushed back off his forehead, and his asymmetrical silver earrings glimmer in the low lighting. The result is so stunning you’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but him tonight.
A thought that’s been running through your mind all evening resurfaces again as you swallow the last of your glass of champagne.
“They should put you in a gallery.” You didn’t necessarily plan to say the thought out loud, but say it you do. Jimin quirks an eyebrow and you decide to double down. “But not here. Somewhere better.”
“The Met?” he guesses, teasing.
“The Louvre,” you counter, and he outright laughs, his head tipping back.
“The Louvre?!”
“You heard me,” you giggle, your body pressed against his side. “You’re art.”
Releasing your hand, he wraps his free arm around you to pull you into his chest, the smile still lingering over his face. “And you,” he murmurs, “are drunk.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” Your voice is muffled slightly as you speak into his collarbone.
You tilt your head up for a kiss, and it seems to surprise both of you how quickly the atmosphere changes. It might be the more-than-several glasses of champagne to blame, or the fact that you’ve found yourselves in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the exhibition’s patrons, but the soft spark that ignites between you quickly grows into a licking flame at the touch of your lips. It’s heat-blush passion as your mouths move against each other, and you’re trying to keep quiet despite the weight of it, heavy in your core, this shared, unspoken need.
“Jimin,” you breathe into him, overwhelmed by all that he is.
He shifts, nosing at your jawline as he speaks into your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere?”
The suggestion makes you a little unsteady on your feet, your high heels threatening to topple over, and he catches you with a hand to your waist when you falter. “Like, somewhere here?”
“Too far to go all the way home,” he purrs, the hand on your body squeezing gently. “And you look too good.”
Your head swims as he kisses you again, and he pries the empty glass out of your hand, setting it down on the nearest table with his. A hand returns to the small of your back, then slips lower, cupping your ass through the fabric of your black dress. His mouth paints a smile over yours, and you grab his wrist. “Follow me.”
Stumbling your way through the gallery, trading laughs under your breath like confidants and kisses when no one is looking, you lead him back to the coat check closet at the front, thankfully left vacant by whichever freshman had been roped in to the thankless job. With a final glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re unseen, you push the door open and tug Jimin inside after you.
As soon as the coat check door closes again, he has you pressed against it, his tongue slipping hungrily into your mouth. His hands skirt up the curve of your hips as he slots a thigh between your legs, firmly pushing up the hem of your dress to grind into your clothed center.
You both freeze where you are at the sound of a moan, one that very distinctly does not come from either of you.
Jimin tries and fails to suppress a nervous laugh. Unable to make out anything in the dark, you reach your hand out, smacking aimlessly at the wall next to you until you find a lightswitch and flip it on.
“What the fu—” The man who made the noise in question flings a hand over his face at the sudden intrusive wash of fluorescents, but you’d know him from his voice alone. Kim Taehyung still has one hand gripped tight to the metal bar of a coat rack, back arched and legs spread for whoever his latest victim is, with his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles.
Before your alcohol-soaked brain can put together a smug comment about how Taehyung needs to get his ass eaten at home like a normal human, Jimin’s voice surprises you.
“Hobi?”
You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize the man on his knees, pulling his tongue off Taehyung’s rim with a look of utter confusion, is none other than Jung Hoseok. His eyes are wide as dinner plates as his head snaps up to take the two of you in.
“Jimin?!”
“Oh my god.” You start to laugh so hard your knees buckle, and Jimin has to wrap his arms around you to keep you upright. “How the fuck did you two even meet?!”
“Do we really need to have this discussion now?!” Taehyung growls, and it only makes you laugh harder.
“Come on, come on—” Jimin is collapsing into giggles himself as he fumbles for the handle behind you. He simultaneously attempts to pull you off the door so he can swing it open. “Let’s leave them to it.”
You smack the lights off again as you make your escape, Jimin’s grip still hugging tight around your waist as you laugh until your lungs nearly give out. The lobby is thankfully empty, all the attendees pressed deeper into the gallery, so you loop your arms over his shoulders as you recover and pull his mouth back down to yours, unable to stop yourself.
“Let me take you home,” you manage to say in the space between kisses. Your tongue feels heavy when you speak; his is champagne-sweet. “Joon and Yoongi will be here for a while.”
Jimin’s agreement hums, buzzing on your lips. “Wanna take the train?”
You’re grateful the subway car you stumble into is empty, because the pull of Jimin’s mouth is too magnetic to be ignored. You don’t think you could stop kissing him if you tried.
It’s practically a race back to your apartment once you emerge from the station, partially to get out of the cold night air, though you hardly feel it with Jimin’s jacket slung over your shoulders and your body flushed hot from alcohol and desire. As you climb the four flights to your walk-up, both of you giggling and gripping tight to the banister, the spiral of the stairs sends your world spinning. You feel dizzy-drunk on wine and laughter and lust alike, and maybe something more. Something you don’t have words for yet.
It takes you three tries to get your keys in the door, and when you finally manage to get it open, you kick your shoes off and make a beeline for your bedroom, dragging Jimin along after you, hand-in-hand. Thankfully he has the foresight to remember to shut the door behind you, because all you can think about is him: the rich musk of his cologne, the taste of his tongue, the warm blush of his skin under your palms.
The leather jacket hits the floor and you step over it, walking backwards as he licks into your open mouth, shameless.
You nearly fall over when you bump up against the bed and almost lose your balance, and then you reach for the buttons of his shirt at the same time he goes for your dress. The two of you laugh your frustrations against each other as your arms tangle and get in the way.
“You first!” you insist, and he relents, lets you unbutton the starched white fabric of his button-down so he can shrug out of it. Your fingers move to undo his belt and then he takes over, impressively coordinated enough to be able to kiss you while kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, stripped down now to his black boxer-briefs. He pulls your dress up over your head, and then your barely-clothed bodies press together all the way down, the ache in your core now an undeniable throb.
Jimin takes your face in his hands and kisses you again, and you slip one hand between your hips and his to palm at him, earning an appreciative hiss. You rub at him over the front of his briefs, teasing, then dip your touch beneath his waistband.
His cock hangs heavy between his legs, but he’s not quite hard yet, maybe from the cold, so you take him in your hand and start to pump. For fear of too much dry friction you try to go slow, and he groans into your mouth as you twist your wrist a little to circle your thumb over his frenulum.
He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel the heat of his embarrassment bloom against your skin. “Sorry— gimme a second.”
Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize. D’you wanna try laying down?”
When he nods, you release your grip on him so he can sink down onto the bed, crawling backwards up to the pillows. Knelt down on the mattress, you settle in the space he makes for you, thighs spread and knees tipped open, and you push his briefs down enough to free all of him.
You hook your thumb and index finger under the head of his dick to pull it flush against his stomach, allowing you better access to drag your tongue in little kitten licks up his shaft. Your other hand moves to massage gently at his balls as you take his tip into your mouth and let it bulge against your cheek, let him slip against the soft wall there to make saliva pool on your tongue, sloppy on purpose.
It’s still not working, not really, and when your gaze flits up to him again, Jimin’s face is pulled into a grimace. Heat rushes up your neck, and you pull your mouth off him and immediately right yourself. You shift backwards a little on your knees as your pulse starts to race. Does he not want this? Did you misread some sign, or push him too far?
Jimin must be able to read the look in your eyes, because he groans as he presses his face into his hands. “It’s not you. Think I drank too much, I don’t— i-it feels good, I—it just—”
You’re not exactly sober yourself. The receding white noise of panic makes it hard to think, hard to know what to say. “I-it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“I just—” he tries again. “I really want to do this, I don’t know why— it’s fucking embarrassing.” The blankets muffle the sound as his palms smack flat against the bed on either side of him in clear frustration. You move out from between his legs, still trying to catch up, and a muscle in his jaw jumps as he pulls his boxer-briefs back over himself.
“Jimin,” you murmur. The bed creaks when you shift to lay next to him, to tuck into his side, and you reach up to run a hand through his hair, a little sticky with the product holding it in place. An anxious, thrumming quiet settles over both of you as his eyes flutter closed.
The words finally come to you in the silence; you can only hope they’ll reach him. “I had so much fun with you tonight. That doesn’t go away.” The crease between his brows softens a little, so you keep talking. “It’s not your only chance, okay? I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.” Your free hand slips into his on the bed next to you. “And I want you with me.”
He sniffs a little, so quiet you nearly miss it, then turns in towards you. Your noses bump together and your mouth turns up at the corners as you continue. “It’s late, and I… can’t promise there isn’t more ass-eating waiting for you at home. Do you want to sleep here?”
Jimin’s eyes blink open, glassy, and then he nods.
“Come on,” you say softly, sitting up and tugging on your still-joined hands. “How about we shower?”
In the bathroom, you run the water scalding hot, and when you both step in you nudge Jimin forward to stand under it first, then press against him from behind. Your hands wrap around his waist to slide over his stomach as you tilt up to reach his ear when you speak. “This okay?”
He nods, hums a little, and you move your hands up over the whole of his body. Hard lines and soft curves, a work of art you know so well, you can see it when you close your eyes as you map his skin with your fingertips. You nuzzle into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, then press a kiss there. “I’m right here,” you say again, not even sure if he hears you.
But his head turns, and you feel one of his hands slide over yours on his chest. “Will you wash my hair?” he asks softly, and you tip forward to bring your mouth to his, convinced you’d do anything he asked of you.
It’s intimate, the way you take your time running shampoo and then conditioner through his silky pink strands, dragging your nails over his scalp and applying gentle pressure that makes him sigh prettily in response. Jimin steps further under the showerhead both times to rinse the product out, and if a few tears slip down his cheeks, they’re lost to the spray of the water where you can’t tell the difference.
But he does manage the ghost of a smile when you reach to grab your washcloth and he gets there first. “Your turn.”
Once your body and then his are scrubbed and rinsed clean, you shut the water off and grab thick, fluffy towels that you dry off and wrap up in. In the dim light of your room, you pull on an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, then dig out a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. They’re fairly baggy on you, but they fit Jimin perfectly, and the image of him in something of yours makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest.
You run two glasses under the kitchen tap that you set out to ward off any potential hangovers, and you even manage to find a spare toothbrush for him to use. When he emerges from the bathroom again, still absentmindedly toweling his damp hair, you’re sitting on the bed with your feet tucked under you.
“Do you want to watch something?” you offer gently.
He shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. “‘Mtired. Think I just wanna sleep.”
You pat the bedspread next to you, an invitation. “Then let’s sleep.”
Under the covers, you curl up together, soft and warm from the shower, scented lavender and mint from your body wash and toothpaste. Jimin’s legs tangle with yours, an arm wrapping over your waist, and you press your cheek against the hard plane of his chest with a small sigh.
You listen as his breathing slows, each inhale a little further apart from the last, to the point where you think he’s fallen asleep. You feel yourself start to follow after him, and the last thing you hear before you’re dragged all the way down is Jimin inhaling deep, then mumbling softly into your hair. “Thank you. For everything.”
~*~
Light streams in between the cracks of the window blinds, painting warm shapes over your eyelids that gently wake you. You sigh and stretch as you slowly come all the way up from dreaming, your eyes still heavy-lidded. When you roll over with a soft grunt, you find Jimin fast asleep there, his face smushed into the pillow, one arm slung lazily over you.
The corner of your mouth pulls up, and you have to fight the urge to dot kisses all over his face, deciding to let him sleep instead. It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to roll out from under his arm without waking him and slip quietly out of bed, easing the bedroom door closed behind you.
It’s early, and the apartment is still, washed in morning gleam and the gentle hum of New York City traffic on the streets outside.
You stumble into the kitchen with a stifled yawn, swinging open the fridge and leaning down to retrieve a pack of bacon and the half-empty carton of eggs. Humming quietly to yourself, you dig a pan out and set it on the stove to heat.
Arms slide around your waist, making you jump a little before you melt back as Jimin nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You can feel his body through your t-shirt, still warm from sleep and bedsheets he must’ve only just crawled out from under.
Not quite graceful, you turn in his arms and loop yours around his neck to seek a kiss. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice hoarse on your first spoken words of the day. “How are you feeling?”
Jimin’s mouth is still slurred from waking up when he answers. “‘Mgood. You look good.” His gaze roams down your body and back up, as if to take in your oversized shirt, your bare legs, your hair still messy from sleep. “So cute like this.”
You scrunch your nose slightly as you smile up at him. “Want breakfast?”
A heat starts to pool between your legs as his hands slide further down your back. He pushes your shirt up so he can grip your ass, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his skin from yours.
“In a bit.”
You can’t help but squeak when, in one swift move, he bends his knees and lifts you off the ground. Impulsively, your legs spread to wrap over his hips, thighs squeezing tight to hold on, and your arms cling around his neck as laughter flutters in your chest. Before you can act on the urge to bury your face in his shoulder, his mouth finds yours again, and the way he kisses you, hungry and deep, makes nothing else in the world matter.
He carries you back to bed, nudging open the door he didn’t quite close all the way with his shoulder, then using a foot to push it shut again. Your muscles unclench when he sits down with you in his lap, and you unwrap your legs from around him, your knees sinking soft into the bed.
You can’t quite shake the thoughts of the night before. “Jimin,” you start, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t—”
“Want to,” his voice is low, ragged edges from sleep. “Doing it ‘cause I want to. I want you. Do you want me?”
You nod, leaning back to look at him, your arms still twined over his neck. “More than anything.”
There’s no rush this time as he shifts backwards up the bed and you crawl over him to settle into his lap again. No tension that’s been building all night, no alcohol buzzing in your systems, no urgency. Just your bodies, half-dressed in sleep clothes, intertwining like they were made to fit together.
Your kisses are sweet and unhurried as Jimin’s hands slip beneath your oversized t-shirt, delicate fingers tracing up your waist. He cups your breasts in his palms, squeezing gently as he licks into your mouth. When he rolls a nipple between his fingers, your breath hitches, sparks of arousal shooting all the way down to your toes. A weight blossoms in your core as you reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, and you shiver a little in the morning air.
“Beautiful,” Jimin says quietly, reverently, and you take his face in your hands.
“You are too,” you murmur, your eyes searching his. “So beautiful.” Your hands slip down his body as he kisses you again, your fingertips outlining the contours of his chest, gently brushing over his nipples to make him groan into your mouth.
Jimin’s hands come to rest at the curve of your hips as your mouths move together, where he teases his touch under the band of your boyshorts. He pulls back just far enough to ask, “Can I take these off?” and you nod.
You shimmy the thin fabric down your thighs, dropping onto your ass with a laugh so he can tug them the rest of the way off, one ankle at a time. As you sit up on your knees again, his hands come to grip your thighs, and he shifts lower on the bed until he’s laying flat on his back next to you.
“Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs softly.
“Yeah?” You bite down on a small smile.
He hums. “Can I— will you please, uh… sit on my face?”
You can’t help but giggle. No one has ever asked so politely. “Yeah, okay.”
It’s slow, languid, the way his full lips close delicately around your clit when you settle over him, how he alternates with lazy passes of his tongue, not unlike the way he kisses you. The pleasure pulls your spine arched and your head tips back, palms pressing flat to the bed beneath you.
“Jimin,” you gasp, “baby, feels so fucking good.”
His tongue is heavy as it drags down your folds, thick when he sinks it into your cunt to taste the slick arousal that pours out of you and drips down his chin. Your hips rock into his mouth, his nose inadvertently bumping against your clit as he licks you like he doesn’t want to waste a drop. Your walls cling tight, crammed up full of him.
With a slurp and a gasp for breath, he withdraws, his tongue made hot from being buried inside of you, trailing wet warmth as he licks back up your pussy to lap at your clit again. Your arms threaten to give out when he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, lips pulsing an insistent rhythm that makes you moan and writhe above him.
“Jimin, Jimin.” The pleasure is decadent, thick, wine and honey, made sweeter by the beautiful boy pressed between your thighs. Emotion bubbles up inside of you to twist with your pleasure, and you tighten a hand in his rose-blush hair as you moan again, nearly a sob this time, a dam breaking.
Jimin hums against you, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your thighs, like he can tell you’re at the edge without you having to say a word, and it’s enough to send you tumbling over it.
“Oh fuck baby, yes, fuck.” Your toes curl tight over the bedsheets as your pussy flutters, throbs, gushes. Your vision whites out as you come hard enough to make your thighs shake, hard enough that your stomach muscles tremble with the effort of holding you up. Jimin’s mouth works you through it, tongue stroking flat and slow to coax pulse after pulse out of you, until everything melts into shaky aftershocks and your thighs clench around him, over-sensitive.
He pulls back when you start to squirm, lips smacking wetly on a final kiss to your pussy, and heat flushes your face at the sound of it. Your limbs feel heavy as lead as you slip off from on top of him and collapse down onto the mattress with a floaty sigh, your pulse still thudding brightly in your ears.
You’re only distantly aware of the way the bed shifts as Jimin slides down next to you. You follow his touch on instinct, turning into him when he pulls you close and presses a kiss to your hairline. Heartbeat still slamming in your chest, mind hazy with morning orgasm glow, you hum contentedly as your eyes flutter open to find him palming at a thick bulge tenting his– well, your sweatpants.
“Looks like it’s cooperating today.” Jimin’s voice is equal parts relieved and embarrassed.
With a lazy smile, you hook a finger in his waistband, tugging playfully. “What do you want to do about it?”
He laughs hoarsely. “I would love to finally fuck you, if you’ll have me.”
“I don’t want anybody else.” The thought spills out before you can worry if it’s too soon to say it, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you.
At Jimin’s guidance, you lay back against the pillows, a couple of which he grabs to slot under your hips. “There’s condoms in the nightstand,” you say softly, and anticipation thrums in your chest, twinning with your still-racing pulse as you watch him retrieve one, then step out of his sweatpants to roll it on.
He climbs back onto the bed to hover over you, and your breaths come shallow into each other’s mouths. You kiss quietly at the precipice of this moment, like you’re afraid it might not be real, a dream you could wake up from at any second.
“Thank you.” Jimin’s low voice sends a ripple through you. “For waiting for me.”
You press a hand to his cheek, your eyes trying to take all of him in at once. “It wasn’t waiting, Jimin. Really. I’ve loved every second with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”
“I’m so glad I met you,” he murmurs.
The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you spread your thighs wider, pulling your legs up towards your chest. Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you can’t bite back the moan that spills out of you as he sinks into your tight heat with a cock thick enough to split you open. “Fuck, Jimin.”
There’s a pause when he’s pressed all the way in, his body covering yours, your hands clutching at the broad sweep of his back. He exhales a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looks down to see himself buried in you to the hilt. “God, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”
You shake your head— you’re so soaked from his tongue and your arousal that it all just feels like melting, a pulsating heat between your legs. When he presses another kiss to your lips, he circles his hips, and you both groan at the feeling.
Jimin’s hands grip your thighs as he shifts and starts to move, starts fucking into you with long, slow strokes that make your pussy flutter, as if to urge him in deeper.
“It’s good?” he checks in again, voice tight, clearly holding himself back.
“So good, baby,” you breathe, “please fuck me.” A smirk flashes over his mouth at your manners, so polite when you ask to take it, and then he snaps his hips into you and you keen. “Fuck, please, just like that.”
He does it again and again, hands pressing down on your thighs to keep you folded up under him as he fucks you. The angle is just right for the thick head of his cock to pound into your g-spot with every stroke, and your back arches as your walls grip tight to him.
Jimin echoes your gasps with his own, swearing under his breath as you squeeze around him. He’s thrusting deep-deep now, and your hips shove up towards him for all of it, your thighs trembling as you take every inch. You’re dripping down his length every time he pulls back, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath you.
The pleasure, the pressure as he fills you up is so overwhelming that your hands reach, clinging to anything they can find. A pillow, the bedsheets, the flexing muscles in his forearms. Your moans come unabashedly now, underscored by the slap of skin on skin, the thud of the bedframe knocking into the wall. “Jimin, Jimin, baby.”
“Yeah,” he pants, choked up like he’s close. “Love it when you say my name.”
You sit up a little, folded legs shifting to wrap over his hips, and your hands come to his face to pull his mouth down to yours. His movements stutter as you kiss him breathlessly, and the brush of your tongue over his must be just enough to make him come undone. With a grunt of effort, he thrusts hard into you one final time, and his shoulders shake as he fills up the condom.
You kiss him again and again, your lips pulled into a smile against his as you tangle a hand in his hair, made messy from sleep and sex. Jimin’s body weighs heavy on top of yours as he drops his head to your shoulder, breath coming in short heat-bursts over your collarbone.
“Fuck. Been a minute.” He presses a kiss there, another to your neck, a third to your jaw. “Do you want to keep going?”
Your eyes widen at the question. “I— can you?”
A soft flush paints color in his cheeks, and he’s suddenly a little shy. “Yeah, I can. If you want. Or we can stop.”
You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your noses bumping. “I kinda felt like I was getting close again.”
He smiles. “Then let me finish what I started.” There’s a bit of shuffling as he moves to the edge of the bed to remove and tie up the used condom, then reaches for the box to retrieve another.
As he tears open the foil and rolls it on, you watch and consider all of him. This body that you know from every angle, that you’ve studied like a textbook, that holds the boy who stepped onto the subway and changed your life and made it better. This body, made to be adored, to be respected and cherished and filled up with love. This body, chosen to be shared with you, to be held by you, to be near you.
That’s all you want, you realize as he rolls over, brown eyes blinking sweetly at you. This body, and all that it holds: the darkness and the light, the pain and the beauty, the soul that so perfectly fits with yours.
“Turn over for me?” he asks softly. “I want to spoon.”
This round is easier, slower, your bodies molding together, shaky from effort and sensitivity. You twist over your shoulder, tipping your head up for a kiss that turns into a shared gasp as he presses into you again. Your walls are swollen enough to be tender, and the stretch of him, the way he fills you up entirely, makes your eyes roll back.
As he starts to grind his hips into you, his hand snakes down between your thighs before you even have to ask. You hook a leg over his to allow him better access and gasp when his cock slides even deeper into you from the new angle.
“So good,” you manage as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, matching the same slow-stroke pace. His tongue slips into your mouth, and with his cock rubbing insistently against your front wall, it doesn’t take much. Pleasure overwhelms you in a hot rush as he so easily pulls you apart again.
“Jimin.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, your walls starting to pulse. Your head tips back against his shoulder as he fucks and rubs you through it, his hums of encouragement buzzing through your body, your hips shuddering. “Baby, oh god.”
Jimin’s strokes start to falter, and then he goes still, your cunt aftershock-fluttering around him as he comes again, groaning your name.
A brush of daylight through the blinds makes your eyes heavy, and they drop closed as you lean into him and breathe through the comedown. You don’t know how long you lay there like that until his kisses pull you back earthside, dotting over your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw. You tilt your head up and he finally finds your lips again.
With a deep grunt of post-sex effort, he rolls over, leaning off the edge of the bed to deal with the second condom. A shiver dots up your spine at the loss of his body next to yours, and you tuck into his side when he lays down again, throwing an arm over his chest to better nuzzle into the crook of his neck. The heat of his palm makes you sigh as his hand rubs gentle circles against your back.
Something cracks open inside of you, warm like his touch, like the sunlight bleeding through the window. You can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat under your hand, and it’s everything, all of him, that makes the words rise up in your throat, undeniable.
“Jimin,” you breathe, “I l—”
A loud bang on your bedroom door makes you flinch, and you roll over with a grimace as Yoongi shouts from the other side. “If you’re finished, just so you know, you left a fucking pan on the stove. Could’ve burnt the house down while you were in there deflowering each other.”
Your jaw drops open and Jimin’s eyes go wide, and you collapse against each other in a silent rush of laughter. You’re surprised when Yoongi’s voice comes back, a little softer this time. “Also I brought some bagels back from work. If you want any, better hurry before Namjoonie eats them all.”
The charged moment has passed, and the words sink back down inside of you. Making a promise to tell him soon, you wrap yourself tighter around Jimin’s side with a smile. “What do you think?”
He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll never say no to a bagel.”
“Come on then,” you murmur, tilting up for a final hit of affection. The kiss he leaves on your lips makes your heartbeat flutter, like the shudder of a subway car.
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