#yoongi fuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softyoongiionly · 5 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Ten

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut, slow-ish? burn.

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: thank you all for 100 followers, love you lots.

Warnings for this Chapter: language, mentions of drinking, mild mild angst, glimpses of smut.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 10: Mario and Midori

Yoongi meanders through the doorway of the house, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, fingers aiding the front door in shutting quietly. Although, it doesn’t do much good as his presence has already been learned by one of his roommates.

“Late night again huh?” A suggestive voice echoes off of the walls and, Yoongi cringes at the sound, his cheeks flushing. “You know, Hyung, you’re not living at home anymore, Joon and I aren’t going to ground you for sneaking out.”

Yoongi snorts, eyes rolling as he makes his way into the living room to find Hoseok, sprawled out on the couch. His shirt is off, grey sweatpants rolled up on his hips, hand clutched around the TV remote as he flips through the channels. When Yoongi fully enters the room, Hoseok turns towards him, brown eyes glinting with playfulness, a prominent smirk on his lips.

“Where is your shirt?” Yoongi grumbles in response, ignoring his previous question as he drops his bag on the barstool by the entrance of the kitchen.

Hoseok laughs, pushing a hand through his black hair in an attempt to straighten out his bedhead.

“Were you with that girl again? He asks, brows rising cheekily.

Yoongi opens the fridge, eyes narrowed as he tries to spot his takeout container from two nights ago. He finds it sitting on the top shelf, opening the lid to inspect it.

“Hyung?”

Yoongi hums in response, eyes widened innocently as he looks over at his roommate, hands busying themselves with preparing his leftovers.

“Yah! You never tell me anything!” Hoseok finally whines, pushing himself off of the couch before striding over towards Yoongi.

Yoongi snickers finally, breaking his façade as he nods, “You have a big mouth.”

“Hyung, I’m your best friend, I’m not gonna tell your secrets. I just want to know why you’ve come home smiling like an idiot for the last week.” Hoseok pleads, his face drawn up in desperation as he leans on the countertop.

Yoongi regards his eager friend with playful eyes, shaking his head as he shuts the door of the microwave.

“You always say I have a nice smile and, now you’re telling me it’s idiotic, I’m hurt Hobi.” Yoongi laments, placing a hand on his own chest, eyes full of fake sorrow.

Its Hoseok’s turn to roll his eyes, his posture growing restless as he feels Yoongi is on the verge of cracking.

“You know what I mean, cmoooooonn.” He whines, following Yoongi around the kitchen as he retrieves a fork out of the drawer. Yoongi licks his lips at the sight of his food before, turning to Hoseok, nudging past him as he makes his way into the living room.

“I’m seeing someone.”

At Yoongi’s confession, Hoseok ignites in a brilliant smile, letting out a few noises that Yoongi could not understand the origin before, he practically jumps for joy.

“YAH! I knew it! Who is it?”

Yoongi pulls out a TV tray, chuckling to himself at Hoseok’s antics, as he set his takeout box down.

“Her name is Y/N, you don’t know her.” Yoongi answers, unable to resist his friend’s excitement, his fork spearing a piece of teriyaki chicken.

“Have you two fucked yet?” He answers immediately and, Yoongi huffs in frustration, launching a throw pillow in his direction. His cheeks stain pink at his question and, he feels heat rising to them as Hoseok throws his head back in laughter.

“Aish what’s wrong with you???” Yoongi scolds through Hoseok’s laughter, which only increases as he notices Yoongi’s, flushed face.

“Hyung, it’s ok, it’s about time honestly, I haven’t heard of you getting laid in quite a while. I was starting to worry…” Hoseok smirks, leaning back, placing his hands behind his head and his feet on the coffee table.

“Hoseok-ah, we eat on that coffee table, get your nasty ass feet off of it.” A voice calls from the top of the stairs and, Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief as he sees Namjoon, the voice of reason, making his way down the stairs.

Hoseok snickers, holding his hands up in surrender as he drags his feet off the table. Namjoon’s black t shirt was tucked into a pair of light washed denim jeans whilst his right hand was occupied with adjusting the black snapback atop his head. Namjoon’s eyes widen slightly as he spots Yoongi in the living room.

“I didn’t realize you were home Hyung.” Namjoon greets Yoongi with a warm dimpled smile, patting his shoulder as he passes by him on the way to the kitchen. “Long night at the studio?”

At this, Hoseok throws a smirk Yoongi’s way, raising his brows as if to challenge him.

Yoongi flips him off, shaking his head when he leans back, feeling extremely full. Hoseok eyes the rest of his leftovers eagerly and, without even hesitating Yoongi pushes the container, rolling his eyes as he does.

“No, uh actually, I was...” Yoongi pushes himself off the couch, smirking as Hoseok digs into the remainder of his food. “…with a friend.”

He makes it into the kitchen, sitting at the counter whilst Namjoon pulls a frozen pizza out of the freezer. Namjoon’s brows rise slightly as he turns the oven dial to the appropriate temperature.

“Did you have a good time?” Namjoon asks, trying to keep it casual, knowing that if he presses too much, Yoongi won’t give up any information.

At his inquiry, Yoongi can already feel the corners of his mouth begin to turn up in a small smile.

“Yeah, it was a great time.” He amends, biting on the inside of his lip.

Namjoon smirks knowingly to himself before turning around.

“Well, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself hyung, I haven’t seen you relax in a long time.” Namjoon’s voice is one of sincerity and, Yoongi wants to curse him for always making it so tempting to spill all of his darkest secrets.

“Thank you, I’m sure you both will meet her soon…if you want to.”

Namjoon resists the urge to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent his smirk from returning to his face. If Namjoon hadn’t known Yoongi for nearly 20 years, he would find his behavior really confusing. On one hand, Yoongi was a tough man with an “I don’t give a shit attitude” but, on the other hand, he was the biggest softy Namjoon had ever met. Before Namjoon can respond, Yoongi pipes up again, avoiding his gaze as he does.

“I really like her…”

Namjoon smiles and, braces his hands on the counter behind him, “It’s ok to like people hyung, you don’t need to feel embarrassed.”

Hoseok saunters into the kitchen, going straight to Yoongi, putting his hands on his shoulders before, chiming in.

“We’re supposed to think he doesn’t have feelings, right hyung?” Hoseok coos into Yoongi’s ear before kissing his cheek. Yoongi grimaces, his hand coming up quickly to wipe his cheek of any Hobi germs.

“You’re disgusting…” He mutters, staring down at his bitten fingernails, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance.

Namjoon and Hoseok laugh, eyeing their hyung fondly, Hoseok rubbing on his shoulders in comfort.

“Is she gonna be at Kappa Sigma’s party this week?”

Namjoon asks because, he’s gotta admit, he’s pretty eager to meet this girl. Yoongi never showed much interest in dating and, it certainly wasn’t because he had a shortage of offers. Namjoon had attended a few parties with Yoongi throughout their time living together and, he explicitly remembers men and women throwing themselves at him. However, Yoongi seldom accepted and, when he did, it was usually a one night kind of thing.

“I’m not sure, she didn’t mention it, are you guys going?”

Hoseok nods from behind Yoongi and, Namjoon follows suit.

“Kappa’s parties are fucking lit; I’ll be there all night.” Hobi nods enthusiastically, finally releasing Yoongi’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I need to unwind too. These early morning rounds are killing me because I stay up so late studying for my shelf exams.” Namjoon says, grimacing at the thought, his eyes glancing over to the oven as it beeps, signaling that it’s done preheating

“I guess I can ask her…” Yoongi pulls out his phone to text you, feeling those annoying butterflies beginning to swarm in the pit of this stomach.

Yoongi: hey, are you going to Kappa’s party this Friday?

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

You’re sat in the center of your bed amongst a pile of laundry you neglected to put away on Sunday. There’s music playing on your speaker at the other end of your bedroom and, a sleeping (typical) Marzipan beside you. Yoongi had left a few hours ago, needing to head home to finish up some homework before his evening classes. The two of you had spent the morning in your kitchen, making breakfast, kissing and, trying to resist the urge to repeat events from last night. Yoongi had stopped himself several times when your kisses became too heated, claiming, “If we don’t stop, I’m gonna be here all day…”

What’s so bad about that?

You found yourself smiling at the thought of him, thankful that you were able to spend your time with someone like Yoongi. A vibration at the side of your thigh pulls you out of your thoughts and, you grow slightly giddy as you see that Yoongi had texted you.

His ears must have been burning.

Yoongi: hey, are you going to Kappa’s party this Friday?

You: Yeah, my good friends from up north will be there so I promised them I would go.

Yoongi: my roommates are making me go

You laughed at that, knowing full well that parties were not Yoongi’s thing.

You: my hero of a best friend bet the president of the Kappa that he could beat him in a round of Mario Kart, wasted, with one hand behind his back so, at least it will be an interesting night.

Yoongi: I just told my roommates and, I guess they said it’s all over Twitter? Lol that’s really funny.

Eyes widening, you swipe over to Twitter, searching through your university tag before, confirming Yoongi’s statement. The tag is littered with a bunch of predictions for the showdown, most of them ruling in favor of Seokjin and, although you loved Jungkook, you couldn’t really blame them.

You: I’m dying, I had no idea. I’m definitely going to be on the losing side, Jungkook said he made t-shirts.

Yoongi: Jungkook? Is that your friend’s name?

You: yes lol so, if you’re looking for me on Friday, I’ll most likely be wearing a shirt that says “Team Jungkook” while consoling my very drunk friend who hates to lose.

Yoongi: I got your back; I’m great with drunk people lol

You: thank god haha, it’s going to be an interesting night. I haven’t been to a party since the beginning of junior year.

Yoongi: Me too, I don’t really like parties that much, there’s too many people

You: I feel that. We’ll have fun though. It should be the last one before we graduate so, you shouldn’t have to suffer again.

Yoongi: true, you make some good points.

You: I usually do, I’m a genius.

You can’t see him but, you’re quite sure that Yoongi is rolling his eyes as your message comes through.

Yoongi: you’re ridiculous.

You: thank u

Yoongi: finish your laundry

You: You finish your laundry

Yoongi: my laundry is finished.

You: Well, if someone hadn’t came all over my duvet last night, there would be less laundry to do.

A smug smirk appears on your mouth, expecting your message to fluster him as you finish up folding one of your last pairs of leggings. His responses had been coming in pretty quickly but, this one was taking much longer.

Yoongi: Yah, that wasn’t my fault.

Yoongi: That was a team effort.

You snort at his brash response, giggling to yourself as you lean back on your pillows, your laundry finally folded.

You: true. We make a great team.

Yoongi: We do.

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

Friday night has arrived and, you were bustling around your apartment wearing nothing but, a bra and a pair of sriracha stained sweatpants. The time was around 7 in the evening and, you were eagerly awaiting the arrival of your three best friends. The four of you agreed that you would meet at your apartment to get ready and, prepare before the Kappa Sigma party. Jungkook and Tae had driven down and, were expected to be knocking at your door any second now. You were so excited to see them, even if it was due to Jungkook making some ridiculous bet. Thankfully though, you weren’t expected to put an outfit together as a “Team Jungkook” shirt was already being provided for you. However, you still wanted to look nice because, some dude named August would also be attending this party and, you planned on at least making out with him at some point during the night. A long shower had been the start of your evening where you took care of shaving, exfoliating and, cleansing. You were now going through your freshly washed jeans to decide which pair would best accompany your t shirt. You decided on a simple black pair and, promptly pulled them up your legs before throwing on a black tank top. Deodorant and makeup were applied next before you begin to tend to your hair.

A knock at the door interrupted your process and, you promptly dropped what you were doing before practically sprinting to the door.

“TEAM JUNGKOOK BABY LETS GO!” Jungkook cheers upon you opening the door, fists rose in the air, a confident smile on his face.

You giggle as Taehyung moves to wrap his arms around you, his familiar cologne warming your senses as he hugs you tightly.

“He’s been screaming this for the past 4 hours…” He mutters into your hair, causing another giggle to leave your lips.

“I’m so sorry…” You whisper to him as Taehyung shuffles inside, arms still around you.

“Tae, I wanna hug too what the fu….Jimin hyung!” Jungkook’s voice shifts from a whine to a cheer and, as Taehyung releases you, you see pink hair rush into your apartment, jumping into Jungkook’s awaiting arms.

“My champion!” Jimin cries, a beaming smile on his face, legs wrapped around Jungkook’s waist as he spins him around.

You and Tae watch on, laughing at their antics.

Jungkook laughs, genuine joy in his eyes as he hugs Jimin tightly. Their energy was infectious; you could already feel pain in your cheeks from smiling so much. Jimin finally shuffles out of Jungkook’s arms and, promptly pulls Tae into a tight hug.

“Taehyung-ah, are you good? How was the drive?” Jimin inquires into Tae’s hair, his smile still lingering on his mouth.

Jungkook begins pulling their bags inside as Tae responds, patting Jimin’s back as he does.

“Jungkookie kept things pretty entertaining so, it went by fast.” He explains, chuckling as Jungkook pulls out a mound of black fabric from his backpack.

“I got the shirts. You guys are gonna wear them right?” He insures and, you bite back a fond smile as you see his confidence waver slightly.

Jungkook may be cocky but, deep down he’s just after validation of those closest to him and, regardless of how ridiculous things we’re about to get, you weren’t about to deny him that.

“Duh, how else would Kappa know who the champion is…” You assure him, smiling confidently as you extend a hand towards him.

His face lights up with excitement as he ambles over to the three of you, handing the shirts out.

“These are lucky shirts,” He claims, his voice devoid of any humor as you, Jimin and Taehyung do your best to stifle your laughter. “and, I thank you all for having enough faith in me to wear them.”

“You’re our best friend Kook, faith has nothing to do with it...” Taehyung remarks shrewdly, smirking as Jungkook rolls his eyes. Jimin snickers beside him, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“Let me change really quick and, we can get going yeah? The Kappa Sigma house is like twenty minutes away but, there’s gonna be a fuck ton of traffic.” Jungkook, Tae and, Jimin all give their grunts of acknowledgement as you step into your bathroom to change shirts.

“Who’s driving?” You hear Jimin ask as, neither you nor he has a car parked in the city. It doesn’t make sense when everything is so local and your hometown was a short train ride away.

“I’ll be DD, we both know this one isn’t staying sober for long and, since this is technically yours and Y/N’s senior party, you guys should be able to get wasted if you want to.” Taehyung, ever the noble one, volunteers and, you breathe a sigh of relief that you wouldn’t have to worry about driving all of your drunk friends home. You had done so more times then you could possibly count.

“Bless you Kim Taehyung!” You call from the other room, causing the three of them to laugh.

“We could always sleep at the Kappa house if we have to. Y/N and I are good friends with them...” Jimin offers and, whilst he’s talking you were the sound of your fridge open.

“I don’t have any leftovers Kookie...” You announce as you step back into the room, smirking as you spot your best friend bent over, head frantically pulling out of your refrigerator, leaning on it casually.

“Psh I wasn’t looking for leftovers Y/N, don’t be ridiculous...” He assures you, causing Jimin to roll his eyes and smack his arm playfully.

You open your mouth to respond before, feeling your phone vibrate twice in your back pocket. Upon fishing it out, you see Yoongi’s name pop up on your screen.

Yoongi: Do you want me to bring you anything? The guys and I are stopping at the store before we get there.

As the boys begin discussing drinking strategies, your thumbs work over your keyboard as you respond to him, smile softly as you do.

You: Honestly? Can you bring Midori? Something tells me that Kappa won’t have any...

His response comes quickly and, causes a giggle to escape your throat.

Yoongi: I wouldn’t be so sure; Kappa Sigma could be classier than you think.

You: Trust me, I’ve been to enough of their parties and, I know for a fact that all they have is a keg, Four Loko and, 8 handles of cheap vodka.

Yoongi: Lol, fair enough. I’ll bring you a bottle.

You: I’ll give you the money when I see you.

Yoongi: keep your money. I’ll see you in a bit.

You roll your eyes at his response but, decide not to argue you with him, knowing full well, he wouldn’t budge.

“Yah, what are you smiling at your phone for? Is your boyyyyfriend texting you?” Jimin jeers from across the room, smirking as he wiggles his brows suggestively.

“Shut up, he’s not my boyfriend...” You grumble but, the smile threatening your mouth gives you away quickly as Jimin pulls you into his side.

“Riiiiight, I forgot, you’re still ‘seeing how things go’…and, fucking.”

At the word ‘fucking’ Jungkook cringes, waving the two of you off as he opens your front door.

“Ah Jiminie, why are you so dirty all the time?” He groans and, he genuinely looks flustered which confuses you, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly a virgin and, you know for a fact that he’s heard Jimin say worse.

“Being dirty is fun Kookie…” Jimin smirks, moving from you to hang on Jungkook’s arm, making kissy faces at him which only furthers Jungkook’s discomfort. You don’t miss the pink hue that tints Jungkook’s cheeks and, it makes you wonder what has him acting so sensitive tonight.

“Is he gonna be here tonight?” Taehyung’s deep voice appears beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts, his arm slinging around your shoulder.

“Yeah, he is.” You smile, leaning in to him as the four of you approach the elevator. Jungkook aggressively hits the button over and over, causing Jimin, who is still hanging on his arm, to start giggling. “He’s really cool, I’m sure you guys will hit it off, given that those two don’t kill each other before we get there.”

Taehyung chuckles, thick brows rising in fondness as he looks at Jimin and Jungkook.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

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

As expected, the Kappa Sigma house is full on raging by the time the four of you arrive. The fraternity is known for throwing insane parties but, this one is by far the craziest (loudest) you have ever seen. The street is lined with cars, parked as close together as they can possibly be which prompted Taehyung’s decision to park on the next street over and, walk. The house is painted a cream color with red trimming the windows, door frame and, base of the foundation. Familiar Greek letters are posted proudly on the front of the house as well as a banner that says ‘Welcome Seniors!.’ Kappa’s perfectly manicured lawn is littered with at least 100 different members of your senior class, some of which you recognize but, many of them you have never seen before. The party seems to be in full swing; drinks were being passed around, the bass from the floor speakers was ricocheting off of any nearby surfaces, causing you to make a conscious effort on working your way through the crowd of people.

“Where’s Seokjin? LEssss get it!!” Jungkook’s brows are furrowed as he stands on his tippy toes, surveying the room, his posture wavering slightly.

On your way into the house, he had managed to grab a hold of two shots of vodka and, currently had his hand clutched around a cup of beer.

“Jungkook are you already drunk?” You turn towards him, giggling he sways slightly in his stance, his brown eyes glossy.

“Getting there.” He mutters, hiccupping as he chugs the rest of his beer, eyes already searching for another one.

“What I say? Such a light weight.” Jimin giggles, pinching Jungkook’s blotchy cheeks causing him to raise his burly arms in defense, chuckling as he does.

“Shut up…” He grumbles, smirking, his hands griping on to Jimin’s wrists, walking the two of them backwards.

“Be careful…” You call towards them, still giggling as you usher Tae through the rest of the crowd.

The two boys in front of you stumble slightly before; Jimin leans towards Jungkook’s face.

You see his lips moving but, the words he utters aren’t clear but, from the looks of it, he said something to the effect of:

“make me…”

Your face pinches in confusion and, you immediately look toward Taehyung, who was unfortunately distracted with a passing conversation, to confirm what you just saw.

That was weird.

Before, you can continue pondering over the perplexing scene in front of you, a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

“Yah! I don’t see you for months and, then you show up at MY house repping Team Jungkook huh?” You hear an outraged but, comforting voice from behind you and, you can’t help the wide smile that takes over your mouth.

“I texted you remember???? We’ve been friends since I was 12, I’m obligated to be Team Jungkook!” You turn around in the man’s arms only to be greeted by, the man, the myth, the legend, Kim Seokjin, looking like an absolute four course meal in a black v neck and a pair of tight fitting jeans.

“ So???? Has Jungkook taught you how to make perfect ramen?? Has Jungkook nursed you back from the worst hangover of your entire life hm? I don’t think so!” Jin’s voice takes over the space and, as usual, he has people’s attention. He’s wearing a shirt that literally just says “Kim Seokjin” on it and, upon seeing it; you throw your head back in laughter.

“I’m sorry, you know I’d rep Team Jin every day of the week but, tonight, I gotta stay loyal.”

Jin rolls his eyes but, his mouth wears a fond smile as he pulls you into a warm hug, the familiar clean scent of his cologne, filling you with fond memories.

“Good to see you.” He smiles warmly as he hugs you, dropping his mock outburst, happy to be around an old friend.

“I missed you, Mr. President.” You nudge him as the two of you part, impressed with all he has accomplished.

“Thank you, it was really easy as there were no worthy opponents but, thank you. Missed you too though, I guess.” Jin wears his usual mischievous expression which often leaves people wondering whether or not he’s joking.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you start to follow Jin into the living room, your eyes scanning the crowd for your friends. You spot them on the opposite side of the room, Jungkook looks as though he’s throwing back another shot and Jimin and Taehyung remain close by, laughing as Jungkook hiccups again, his movements getting slightly sloppier.

“Hey uh…” Jin leans in to you, his lips near your ear, “…you know I’m going to absolutely destroy him right?”

You laugh at that, nodding, adjusting the collar of your Team Jungkook shirt.

“Yeah…I do. Try not to gloat too hard though, my boy hates to lose.”

Jin chuckles, nodding, patting your back as he sends you off in the direction of your friends.

“No promises.” He looks back at you, winking before, stepping up on the coffee table. The Kappa living room had been set up solely for the main event, complete with two Secretlab gaming chairs, two controllers and, a gigantic flat screen TV that displayed the main menu screen for Mario Kart.

“Alright, everyone please listen up! My name is Kim Seokjin,” As Jin begins his speech; you hear several cheers throughout the room, causing Jin to nod in their direction. “...please save all applause for after my announcement.”

Jungkook is still between you and Jimin, his eyes are even glossier and his cheeks are flushed beyond belief. He was already hammered and, you find yourself slightly worried that he’s going to be sick before the match even begins.

“You doing alright champ?” You murmur to him and, he turns toward you, alcohol oozing from his pores, his mouth turned up in a smirk.

“I’m doin’ alright baby, are youuuuu doin’ alright?” Jungkooks normally soft voice is thick and raspy, his satoori prominent in his tone as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

He’s absolutely plastered.

“Now, we have gathered you all here....in our living room...” Jin gestures to the wide expanse of the room, an arrogant smirk on his face, “...in the name of friendly competition.”

A few more cheers and comments echo across the room and, as your eyes scan the crowd, you notice a tuft of platinum hair makes it way to your line of vision. Yoongi stood in front of two other men who you assumed were his roommates. You strain slightly on your tippy toes, trying to catch his attention and, sure enough he spots you within a few seconds, pulling this face :] before making his way over to you.

“My friend,” Jin waves Jungkook over, who does his best to appear normal as he saunters over to the coffee table Jin was standing on. “...Jungkook and I play games together online and, sometimes....well a lot of the time, Jungkook likes to challenge me. Usually, being the incredibly mature person I am, I ignore him however,” Jin smirks again, wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s drunken frame. “…recently, he bet me he could and, I quote, ‘beat me at my best game, wasted, with one hand tied his back.’ So, tonight, we are going to test his theory.”

The crowd is growing slightly as more people make their way into the living room. You look to your left to see Yoongi and his friends approaching your side of the room, nudging Jimin as they come closer.

“Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you...” Jimin assures you, keeping his voice low, smirking as he eyes the three men up and down.

With shake of your head, you nudge him again, returning his smirk before shuffling in Yoongi’s direction. Yoongi’s dressed in all black: tight ripped jeans, a black t shirt and, an oversized black utility jacket. His platinum hair is parted slightly, exposing part of his forehead…why are you noticing his forehead? How could you not notice his forehead? Lord have mercy, he looked amazing. Before, you can really greet him, the noise of the crowd has died down and Jin continues with his speech.

“Jungkook-ah? Are you wasted?” He’s smirking, nudging Jungkook who is smirking up a storm beside him, seemingly unbothered.

“Yepppp…..” He draws out the word, chuckling slightly as he does and, you could visibly see the girls in the crowd swoon over him.

Typical.

“Good…good, I have the rope…” Jin smirks, one of his frat brothers walking over to hand off the rope. “The stakes are simple, if I win, Jungkook has to change his gamertag to Seokjin’s#1fan and, every time he signs on, he has to give me a compliment…which shouldn’t be too difficult. If he wins…”

Jin pauses for dramatic effect, his brows raising as he surveys the crowd.

“…he gets $1000.”

Everyone oo’s and ah’s at Jin’s announcement. However, you were far less impressed because, one, Jungkook had absolutely no shot at winning and, two, Jin’s family was filthy rich so, $1000 was chump change.

You feel a smile work its way onto your face as Yoongi shuffles in next to you.

“I have your Midori but, I didn’t want to bring it out with all of these people so, Hoseok has it in his bag.” He whispers to you and, it was then you got a whiff of his cologne, mild and slightly fruity. He smelled great and looked even better, Yoongi never let you rest.

“Thank you…” You whisper back, smiling, your body leaning into his slightly.

Jin hops down from the coffee table and, approaches Jungkook with the rope.

“Now, as much as I would love to see you trying to play this game with one hand, it’s basically impossible, even if you were sober which, you’re definitely not so, let’s level the playing field a little bit shall we?” Jin throws the rope to the side and, motions to his group of friends once again. Jungkook’s brow furrows in confusion as Jin’s friend hands him a bottle of Soju.

“Please cheer for me…I live for attention.” He announces before popping the bottle open.

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG!!!!” The crowed is pulsing with noise and, you feel Yoongi cringe slightly at the sound.

Sure enough, Jin finishes the entire bottle in under a minute, holding it up with slightly watery eyes. He turns to Jungkook, who is watching him in shock, obviously not expecting Jin’s move. The two of them mutter something to eachother, chuckling as they do before, taking their seats in front of the TV.

“Maybe your friend has a shot after all…” Yoongi notes beside you, smirking in amusement.

“I wasn’t expecting that, Jin usually isn’t concerned with how fair things are.” You giggle, watching on eagerly.

Yoongi chuckles as Jin and Jungkook select their characters. Jin chooses Mario, of course and, Jungkook chooses Bowser. The two of them move on to choose the racing track and, Jin selects Rainbow Road, claiming that it was a classic.

As the screen loads, everyone begins cheering again as Jungkook looks over to your group.

“You got this Kookie!” Jimin calls and Jungkook drunkenly gives a thumbs up in response, causing you and Taehyung to laugh.

You watch as the race begins. Jungkook and Jin take off, both of them swaying not only with the movement on the screen but, also with the alcohol flowing in their system. Their eyes are both narrowed in focus as they begin to take over the other races, their positions alternating between 3rd and 4th.

“Jungkook-ah! I’ll let you in front of me if you want; you seem to be struggling over there.” Jin laughs as Jungkook struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, chuckling to himself, clearly feeling more of the alcohol’s effect on his body.

“’m fine old man…just worry bout’ yooself’” Jungkook slurs and, you bite your bottom lip to stifle your laughter. Drunk Jungkook was a rare sight as he usually only drank enough to get tipsy but, he was certainly entertaining.

Jin just laughs, maneuvering his character effortlessly through the racing track, quickly taking 1st place, swerving this way and that to dodge the attacks of other players.

“Not bad for an old man eh?” Jin teases as he begins to do what he does best: kick serious ass at Mario Kart.

The rest of the room is shouting various things toward the screen and, you notice Jungkook growing slightly nervous as he starts to fall behind. His brow furrows in concentration but, it doesn’t do much to serve him as he continues to fall behind.

Needless to say…Jungkook lost the race. Not only did he loose but, he came in 7th place.

Jin stands up, wobbling slightly as he raises his controller above his head.

“Jin! Jin! Jin! Jin! Jin!” Most of the room cheers as Jin smiles cheesily, waving the crowd off but, secretly egging them on.

“Don’t feel bad Jungkook-ah or should I say,” He’s helped Jungkook up at this point, wrapping his arm around him to steady the two of them. “…Seokjins#fan?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, looking very unhappy but, he nods reluctantly, sighing out in defeat. Your brow furrows in disappointment for your competitive friend. You knew it was a long shot but, you would have really liked to see him win,

“Alright everyone, don’t be too hard on him! He’s travelled a long way to…lose…” Jin jests, causing everyone to laugh and, Jungkook to elbow Jin’s ribs.

“Yah! Be nice!” He laughs again, dodging his second attempt before gesturing back to the crowd. “Thank you all for watching, now, go get wasted, have fun, and don’t forget to try my spinach dip!”

As the crowd disperses, you see Jin lean into Jungkook’s ear. Upon finishing, Jungkook’s expression changes from annoyed to ecstatic, pulling back to shake his head. Jin just nods to him, throwing a smirk your way before heading back into the kitchen.

“Kookie!” Jimin calls to him, waving him over but, before Jungkook can turn around, a group of girls walk up to him. They’re all over him instantly, batting their lashes and, biting their lips. Jungkook blushes, still clearly drunk as he seems to enjoy their attention. Jimin looks annoyed, retracting his hand as he looks toward the floor.

“Fuck, I would have lost to Seokjin too if it got me that kind of attention…” Taehyung pipes up, eyeing the girls from across the room.

“Like you have any trouble getting attention…” You giggle, nudging him.

Taehyung was literally so gorgeous that it actually offended you sometimes.

Taehyung chuckles, not disagreeing with you before he nods toward Yoongi who had moved away momentarily to say hi to someone.

“Are you gonna introduce us…?” He teases, a smirk on his lips.

You nod, feeling somewhat nervous as you patiently wait for Yoongi to come back to your group.

Jimin’s scoff pulls your attention towards him. His face is turned up in complete disgust, his eyes narrowed in Jungkook’s direction. You couldn’t really process what was going on because, Yoongi and his roommates were walking back toward you and, Jimin had already pushed passed Taehyung.

“I need a drink…” He mutters as he storms off causing you and Taehyung to look very confused.

“Wait, what’s going on?” You direct your question towards Tae who looks equally as perplexed. Your eyes scan the room for Jungkook and, you spot him looking toward the direction Jimin ran off to, a concerned expression on his face.

“I don’t know but…” Tae trails off as Jungkook seems to excuse himself from the girls, stumbling out of the room.

“Should we go check on them?” He murmurs, looking over to you, both of you treading in the uneasiness.

“Yeah, let’s give them a second but, we should definitely check on them at some point.”

Something told you that, whatever was transpiring between Jimin and Jungkook, required privacy.

Yoongi soft voice appears beside you, “Hey, is everything ok? “Uh...yeah, yeah everything is good…Sorry uh…Yoongi this,” You gesture to Taehyung, “is my bestfriend Taehyung...Tae this is Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you…” Taehyung says, flashing a brilliant smile as he extend his hand towards him. Yoongi smiles, as they both shake hands, “Nice to meet you too, I’m sorry Jungkook lost.”

Taehyung shrugs, seemingly unbothered, “It’s alright man, it was inevitable, hopefully it will teach him to stop waging ridiculous bets at 3 in the morning.”

Yoongi chuckles, looking behind him to his friends….friend. Where did the other one go?

“Yah Joon, where did Hobi go?”

Namjoon smirks, nodding toward the backyard, “Where do you think?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, sighing out in annoyance before, looking towards you apologetically.

“He has your Midori, I’m sorry…he’s kind of hard to keep track of sometimes.”

You wave him off, giggling, “Don’t even worry about it, I’m sure we’ll find him later…” You pause before looking towards ‘June’, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way; I don’t think we’ve met before.”

He smiles warmly, dimples poking through his cheeks as he bows slightly, taking your hand.

“No, we haven’t but, it’s really nice to meet you, I’m Namjoon.”

Yoongi feels his lips twitching up in a smile as he watches the introduction.

“You two live together right?”

He smiles, wrapping an arm around Yoongi as he nods, “Yeah, we’ve lived together for quite a while; he’s the noisiest roommate in the world.”

Namjoon winks at you as Yoongi nudges him, mock annoyance on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure, he’s literally the loudest person I know, it’s like you can’t get him to stop talking.”

Namjoon chuckles, feeling comfortable around you already as Yoongi pipes up.

“Glad you two are hitting it off.” He mutters, cheeks flushing slightly.

Namjoon pats Yoongi’s back, still chuckling lightly before he nods to the hallway, “I have a few people I gotta say hi to but, hey Y/N, it was really nice to meet you. I hope to see you around the house sometime.”

Another soft smile is sent his way and, you nod eagerly, waving him off, “Absolutely yeah, it was nice meeting you too.”

“You gonna be alright?” You hear Namjoon speak slightly softer to Yoongi, a bit of concern in his eyes. Yoongi gets nervous at parties and, the fact that he was checking in on him made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Yoongi nods, patting his arm.

“Yeah, I’m good, have fun, you need it.” He orders sternly, looking at Namjoon pointedly causing Namjoon to chuckle.

“Yessiir. I’ll see you guys later…take your own advice hyung!” He calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Yoongi shakes his head, fondness clearly in his expression but, he does his best to hide it.

“He’s really sweet.” You comment, leaning into Yoongi slightly.

“He’s alright.” He smirks before turning to you. His brow furrows as he looks behind you and, then scans the room.

“What is it?”

“Where did your friend go?”

You look up then, realizing that Taehyung had left your side. You follow Yoongi in looking around the room before a smirk falls upon your face. Taehyung was on the patio talking to some girl who was quite literally hanging all over him. Your lip is tucked between your teeth as you jerk your head in his direction.

“Clearly our friends want nothing to do with us tonight…” You jest, smirking.

Yoongi shrugs, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, “That’s fine with me…I only came cause I knew you were gonna be here.”

His comment surprises you and your vision is quickly pulled toward him.

“Really?”

Yoongi chuckles, “I hate parties. I told you that. Why else would I be here?”

You bite your lip for a moment, searching your brain for an answer, “You said your roommates were making you go…”

“Am I not technically my own roommate?” Yoongi cocks his head playfully before chuckling as you nudge him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Yoongi smirks, “Hey, that’s my line.”

You roll your eyes but, you’re unable to help the smile that appears on your face. You tuck yourself under Yoongi’s arm, winding your own around his waist before looking up at him, a glint in your eyes.

“We both hate parties so, there isn’t really much to do down here…especially seeing that your friend has my Midori…”

He nods thoughtfully, not really catching your drift, wincing at the end of your sentence.

“Sorry again by the way…I’ll get it back.”

You giggle, waving him off, “I’m thinking…since it’s gonna be so boring down here…maybe we should see if anything is going on upstairs…”

Yoongi’s pouty expression pulls up in confusion, looking up towards the stairs.

“I don’t think anything is going on up there…I don’t even see anyon …oh” Yoongi’s face whips toward your own, assessing it momentarily to verify the conclusion he just came to.

Another giggle leaves your lips as he leans in toward you slightly.

“You wanna have sex here? What if someone catches us.”

Yoongi didn’t always have a way with words, particularly when he was nervous and, he could already feel himself plumping in his jeans at the thought of being with you again.

“I mean…I was thinking we could like make out or something but, if you wanna have sex, I’m sure there’s an empty bathroom somewhere.” You tease and, Yoongi’s cheeks grow bright pink as he groans, putting his face in your shoulder.

“I’m an idiot…” He mutters and you laugh again, pulling his face towards your own.

“You’re not an idiot…but, you do look ridiculously attractive tonight and, I really feel like conveying that to you….with my mouth.” You add before pulling him up, tugging him slightly as you move towards the stairs.

Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he stumbles after you, the tightness in his jeans only getting worse.

“With..y..your mouth?” He calls to confirm and, you don’t answer, still giggling as you pull him upstairs.

The Kappa house was huge and, you knew very well that they reserved a few of the rooms for guests. You pull Yoongi along before stopping in front of one of the doors, knocking lightly. When you’re greeted with silence, you slip inside, still pulling an already aroused Yoongi behind you.

“You’re insane…” He chuckles, pulling you to him as you shut the door. You laugh lightly in response, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you into the wall, your eyes sparkling with desire and mix of other emotions.

“Maybe…but you did come up here with me.” You point out, as your mouths get closer and closer together.

“You were dragging me by the sleeve.” He retorts, eye brows rising playfully.

“Wait…you’re right…I didn’t even ask you…do you not want to…” You feel a regrettable bit of nerves in your stomach but, before you can continue, Yoongi press his soft lips to yours. Your back hits the door slightly as he moves between your lips, a sigh leaving him as he does. His hands move to your waist, squeezing, pulling you against him. Your lips move back with the same amount of enthusiasm, nerves quickly being replaced with desire.

“I’m kidding…in what world would I ever pass up an opportunity to kiss you?” Yoongi questions against your lips, his raspy voice, making your panties damp, He pulls away momentarily, breathing calming slightly as you lean against the door, both of you regarding the other. You lean forward and take his hand, pulling him towards the bed, biting back a smile all the while as you do. Yoongi follows you but, before you can flop down on the comfy looking duvet; Yoongi pulls you back to his lips, kissing at you softly, his hands pulling you against his body.

“Will you get on top this time?” He whispers, pulling back again, eyes hooded, irises darkening.

You cock your head, trying to ignore the quickening beat of your heart, “So, I can do all the work?” You offer playfully, biting back a smirk.

Yoongi smirks, his eyes not showing the usual bit of nerves that they normally do.

He shakes his head, “No, cause I like watching you…and, it makes me cum harder.”

You feel your heart stutter at his words. Yoongi wasn’t one for being dirty but, if you were being honest: hearing his raspy voice essentially ask you to ride his dick was enough to make you wanna cum right then and there.

Before you can respond however, you find yourself practically jumping 5 feet in the air as the door to the bedroom bursts open. You were expecting it to be one of the frat brothers kicking you out however; you did not expect to see two of your best friends bursting in through the door.

Jimin’s pink hair barely brushed the top of the door frame as Jungkook carried him into the room. Jimin’s legs wrapped around his waist and wove his hand into Jungkook’s raven locks.

“Fuck…Kookie…I want you so bad…” Jimin whimpers into his mouth as they slam the door behind them, not realizing anyone else is in the room.

“Jimin…” You speak up, to get their attention, at that the two boys whip their heads in your direction, shock painting their faces.

fuck.

383 notes · View notes

httphopewrld · 5 years

Text

masterlist

credits to httphopewrld (myself), so, please DO NOT repost my fanfics without permission; however, please reblog if you like the fics :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Lingo

(f): fluff

(m): mature content...smut, really

(a): angst

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Mini-Series

↳ Flower Series

↳ Lyrics Series

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KIM NAMJOON

↳ netflix and chill | (f)

↳ boyfriend!namjoon x reader

Surprisingly, some people don’t understand some modern code words. Sadly, you were one of them.

read here

↳ baby steps (f/m)

↳ husband!namjoon x reader

You and your husband, Namjoon, haven’t spent a good date night with each other for a long time. With your new baby girl, Luna, in your life, it was tough; and with work, both of you struggled to balance everything. But you both decided to do something for just the two of you. And it couldn’t have been any more romantic.

read here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KIM SEOKJIN

↳ lisianthus | (f/m)

↳ boyfriend!seokjin x reader

You and Seokjin have been dating for as long as you could remember. Long enough for marriage to be a part of many others’ questions. “When are you going to tie the knot?” many would ask. Well, you decided waiting was going to take forever and planned a romantic night for your proposal…but things didn’t go as planned.

read here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

MIN YOONGI

↳ cat | (f)

↳ childhood friend!yoongi x reader

While eating out with your childhood friend, Min Yoongi, you propose that he’s quite similar to a certain animal: a cat. As you expected, he was quick to say otherwise. Although, the rest of the night seems to prove your point: your friend is for sure, similar to a cat.

read here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

JUNG HOSEOK

↳ babysitters | (f)

↳ boyfriend!hoseok x reader

It’s your first time babysitting your sister’s son, Ryan. Not only are you nervous because you’ve never done it before, but because your boyfriend decides to tag along. Surprisingly, your nephew and boyfriend get along well.

read here

↳ the gentlemen fratbroy | (f/m)

↳ fratboy!hoseok x reader

You weren’t one for parties, but your friends convinced you to ‘take a break’ from your school work. At first, you were hesitant about attending a party, but soon you found yourself a bit intoxicated and dancing with your friends. As you swayed your hips to the music, you felt someone join in behind you. And you couldn’t believe who it was.

read here

↳ I don’t know what to call this | (f/m/a)

↳ friend/lover/bfhoseok!

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

read here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

PARK JIMIN

↳ amaryllis | (f/m)

↳ florist!jimin x reader

You didn’t like flowers as decorations until your friend convinced you to get some for your boring balcony. You decided to visit a flower shop called, ‘Lilly’s Florist’, where you met a cute employee named ‘Jimin’. You too hit it off, and you end up scoring a date with him. Later on, as the date night progresses, and he walks you home, you do more than just talk.

read here

↳ control me | (f/m)

↳ model!jimin x reader

Jimin was just a guy who modeled for your art class, and someone you found attractive, nothing else. You didn’t think anything would evolve from that. However, whenever you needed him for your sketches, he always came over without any hesitation. But there’ll never be anything between us. You convinced yourself. Although, that changed when Jimin stormed into your apartment exclaiming, “What am I to you?” Maybe he had feelings for you. Maybe there was more to your relationship than you realized.

[1] [2]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

KIM TAEHYUNG

↳ lingerie | (f/m)

↳ boyfriend!taehyung x reader

You and Taehyung were open to trying new things, especially when it came to the bedroom. One thing you two wanted to try out to ‘spice things up’ was lingerie. To put on you, of course (but it could go either way). But was it the best idea? I guess we’ll find out.

read here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

JEON JUNGKOOK

↳ lilac | (f)

↳ neighbor!jungkook x reader

After recovering from alcoholism, you bought a new apartment as a fresh start to your new sober life. There, you spent most nights on your quiet balcony; until you heard someone singing on the other side of your balcony’s divider. You eventually spike up a conversation with the angelic vocalist, and soon you two become more than just neighbors.

read here

↳ hot summer | (f/m)

↳ tattoo artist/neighbourjungkook!

He was a boy across the street—no—an attractive boy across the street who happened to be a tattoo artist. You didn’t want to do anything about it, but your friends encouraged you to either stop sulking or make a move. And you chose the latter.

[1] [2]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

108 notes · View notes

taehyungseuphoria · 6 years

Text

BTS reaction to when their black s/o faces ignorance (HYUNG LINE)

Ok so this is my first reaction on here ever so bear with me I’m trying my best!!!

J I N:

(Jin attacking all your haters at the top)

At first Jin wouldn’t even notice that you were getting hate. He simply ignored it and figured since you know he loves you it wouldn’t bother you.

But it did.

Knowing that ‘fans’, his family, and he even so called friends, all hated you because of your skin colored hurt more than anything. So one particular day when he found you standing in front of the bathroom mirror trying out lighting cremes he snapped. He hurriedly grabbed them and threw them out, and grabbed his phone. Before you knew it he was on Vlive, trying to be as calm and polite as he could. He had saw all the bad comments you were getting finally and he had a enough. Yeah, the comments didn’t stop but they surely did lessen!

Everyone knew from then on

Nobody messes with Jin’s princess!

S U G A:

Pied piper who?

Cypher who?

They really done fucked up now...

Yoongi wouldn’t stand for it! He has waited all this time to meet the girl of his dreams and idiotic people thought it was ok to judge her? Hell no.

You would try to calm him down saying it was fine, you been going through this your whole life, but he wasn’t going for it. He would be locked in his studio for days perfecting the perfect song to squash all your haters.

Was it brutal? Yes

Did it get his message across that we all bleed the same? Yes it did

He would fight for you, I mean did you not see him try to throw hands with that zombie on BTS run?

R M:

Mr. Intellectual.

He knew how hard it was dealing with all the hateful comments and strange looks you two would get together.

“Why would he get with that thing?”

“She really does look like a monkey, he could have any Korean girl but he settles for that!”

“Look at her skin, she looks sooo dirty!”

He could see how it started affecting your relationship and that was the last thing he wanted. You stopped wanting to hang out with him, started ignoring him, and completely shutting yourself out from the world!

When you declined his romantic weekend for y’alls six-month anniversary, that was the last straw.

You woke up one morning to your notifications going off! You opened your twitter just to see a bunch of pictures of you and Namjoon on the official BTS page with a few long twitter threads. He had finally stood up for you against everyone, simply stating “If you can’t accept us, then you aren’t a real fan”. After that, let’s just say, you have a pretty good weekend (attempts to wink awkwardly)!

J H O P E :

Oh, boy. This would be the day Mr.Sunshine disappeared...

To Jhope you were his everything, and seeing you sad because you were being judged over something so little hurt him more than anything. He never wanted to see you hurt but his fans were the ones doing it.

So he did the only thing he could.

He went to BigHit, scheduled a interview and went on live television proclaiming his love for you and how nothing can ever separate you too. So Jhope will always support you and be your number 1 no matter what! As long as you promise to love him forever and give him constant affection.

Then I’ll say you two will be ok.

#BTS #bts reaction ambw #ambw #yoongi #suga #RM #Namjoon #Jin #reactions #Jaemineuphoria #first reaction on this page please be kind #I'm trying here #fuff #fluff

159 notes · View notes

bonvoyagenoona · 3 years

Text

Matchmaker (M) | Drabble 2: The Cabin

pairings: Yoongi x Reader

rating: 18+ / Mature / Explicit

c/w & themes: Fluff, angst, smut -- specifically loss of virginity, soft sex

word count: 9,432 (read on ao3)

author’s note: This is part of my Matchmaker series. These drabbles are stories about You, Yoongi, and Jin before the main Namjoon / Jungkook storyline. Just can’t seem to let this Yoongi go...

special shoutout: @mochilatae You are a PEACH for always sharing, listening, guiding. Thank you 🥺

events: @ficscafe‘s 4th Dialogue Prompt Event

28. “Don’t play dumb with me. It doesn’t suit you.”

taglist: @purpleheartsfortae @btseditsworld @greezenini @missbickerbocker @dearbambideer @helenazbmrskai @morti13 @skyys-universe

Refrigerated milk goes bad in about a week, and it smells like rotten vomit when it sours. There’s a discrepancy between countries in regulations on whether eggs should be refrigerated at all, but a sulfurous smell will immediately put you off when it’s time to throw them out. And though your fingertips are designed with unique swirls to help you keep your grip, your fingers must actually bend at the top and middle knuckles, and you must actually instead hold the onion with your knuckles and fingernails as you chop it.

These are all things you’ve read about but don’t know from experience, mostly because you’ve led a life of absolute comfort in your spoiling parents’ humble and loving home. Even there, you have always been seen as a student. You’re good at playing the role that was set out for you when your parents were your age, stinking of onions and adding eggs and milk to their dangerously long ledgers at the market, dreaming of a life in another place. A better place. A place where you would come alive and do anything you wanted, never having to worry about the things that you needed. Though your parents were pioneers in their own right, education was a path that was never open to them, and it was up to you to take up the mantle when it came time. It is up to you to get everyone to the next new place.

In this moment, though, Jin is the person who is responsible for getting you to the next new place, which, for this week, is his family’s summer getaway. You, Jin, and Yoongi now do everything in unison, and you had sighed so in admiration at Jin’s pictures of his family’s lake property, mirrored grins and gazes with each swipe right. The sunset on the surprisingly clear water. The staunch and bewitching magnolia tree out front, with the tire swing on the precariously knotted and re-knotted rope. The two-story cabin itself, quaint, but outfitted with all the modern amenities and comforts that you’re used to. Everything, including the aesthetic, has been staged, seemingly all for you.

Maybe that’s why you think of your parents.

And then the pressure.

You try to ignore the ever-present anxiety-filled balloon in your chest by looking back down at your phone, opening tab after tab for the proper care of the groceries in the trunk that are nestled among your three suitcases.

“I don’t care about cultural context. I’m telling you --- you don’t have to refrigerate eggs,” Jin doubles-down.

His hair has grown a little longer now, ends just past their natural line at his neck, slightly over his ears, and just halfway through his brows. More than a few strands will lighten from a smoky black to a honey hazel by the end of the summer.

He squints in the sunlight as he signals to pass. The squint, which Yoongi proclaims to belong on Jin’s father’s face, then travels across the windshield and over to the passenger side window to find out who in the hell is going a mere 45 miles per hour in the second-to-last lane. Jin’s aim starts to feel wrong when the privileged family’s heirloom squint lands on an elderly couple.

Knitted brows unfold back into broad, soft swaths as Jin turns back to the road.

“Shit. I was about to honk and swear.”

Yoongi nonchalantly presses his window button, the glass buzzing warningly before it introduces the boom of wind and rattle. “Do it anyway.”

“Nah, they’re old.”

“Pussy.”

The glass buzz turns mocking as it slides back up and into place. Jin seethes and hunches over the wheel as he merges back into his original lane, a few miles ahead of the elderly couple blindly chugging along.

You smile to yourself in the backseat. There are still more tabs to sort through for evidence one way or the other on the refrigerated egg debate, but so many other things come to mind. Names. Anne and Diana. Tom and Huck. Daria and Jane. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. With all your reading and observing, you’d arguably studied up on friendships in this way too, the book and TV shows of your childhood scrolling in your mind like a perfectly APA-formatted reference page. You always wondered when you’d find friendships like these. The kind that led to adventures.

You’re on the third tab about federal regulations of refrigerating eggs when you feel eyes on you.

When you look up to catch them, Yoongi is already looking away, but you catch the tail end of a sneer as he turns. Just like you were perfectly content to keep in your belly the chuckle that Yoongi’s teasing has prompted, Yoongi is perfectly content to have seen your phone screen-lit smile, pleased that his ribbing got something out of you. It always seems to.

You linger on the trace of that sneer a little longer, though it’s now hidden by the curve of his cheek.

You think about the other research you’ve done throughout your youth, sources mostly magazines with testimonials and quizzes. How to ask for and provide consent. How to lean forward and pucker your lips, just right. How to move your jaw. How to move your tongue. How to use them in other places.

All things you’ve read about but don’t know from experience.

You navigate to the tab hidden amongst the egg articles and pick up where you left off on the message board you’d found in a state of panic the night before. The only way you could come down from the seventeenth luggage and wardrobe check was to find more information about the one thing that has been left off your collective agenda, yet the one thing that you care about happening specifically on this trip.

One person writes, “I don’t know if you can plan these things out. If you know for sure that you’re ready, then you kind of just… see. That part’s hardest for me. The letting it happen.”

You almost ask your follow-up question out loud, but Jin and Yoongi laughing about something muffles your hum of realization. The upvotes have you covered, anyway.

“Journaling helps me,” the next post states. “I like processing my feelings through my writing. It really helps me understand what I like. What feels good. What I want more of.”

“Awfully quiet back there,” Jin comments, glancing at your reflection in his rear-view mirror. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone down the black hole of egg refrigeration legislation. I didn’t know you were switching your major to law.”

“Hilarious,” Yoongi replies lazily, ignoring Jin’s shin-slapping protest to continue kicking his feet onto the dashboard.

“Scuffs,” you say, without looking up.

A sigh, and then Yoongi kicks off his dark-soled sneakers before putting his socked feet back up. “She likes hypotheses, not arguments,” he continues. “Don’t you know her at all?”

Another smile crawls across your lips.

You’re already starting to get each other down to a science.

It’s not a crush.

You just recognize something in his physicality. The way Yoongi is trudging into the kitchen, hugging armfuls of food and drink to his sweaty body, is calling you home. Twin spots of condensation pull away from each other, like two halves of a Rorschach, Yoongi unknowingly imprinting your psyche from his white tee onto the brown paper bags protecting the bottles of fish sauce and other condiments that he just somehow knew to pick from the shelves.

He grasps everything he’s holding with one strong arm and brings the back of his now-free wrist to his brow, dabbing more sweat away. There’s a callous casualness to the way his arm winds back and just flicks it off of him. You lick your lips. A waste.

His white tee is slightly translucent in the sunshine filling the open concept living area. In the same way it exposes the detail of the wood grain on the floors and walls, the light shows you that Yoongi is etched with strength that you’d missed when you first met him at the beginning of the school year. His torso isn’t solid because it’s solely bone, like you’d thought. Now that your friendship has swum past baggy hoodies to sweaters to tees, you’ve learned that his hugs are rigid because his muscles are taut. And not just now, when busy with a task.

You follow his trunk to his thighs in black jeans, ass pert and popping as he bends slightly to set down the heavy grocery load, and then redistributes his weight back onto his shoulder-width-apart feet planted so firmly. He looks so ready. Limbs, body, all springs coiled and only in need of a trigger.

You’re so overwhelmed at the potential that your eyes are narrow, and your jaw is hanging slightly open, only daring to suck in a tiny taste of him.

“I didn’t realize the place was this big,” Yoongi comments, looking over to you. When he does, his face crinkles up in confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His eyes leave yours and start tracing your outline. Nothing broken or cut. Not even a long, slightly wavy strand of hair out of place. You’re perfect, as always. He speaks with reverence, like he usually does when he asks, “Everything OK?”

“Sorry,” you apologize quickly, blinking back the wisps of daydreams that were forming and turning back to the fruit that you’re arranging into a bowl. Hilariously, they’re peaches. You grip one firmly. “I was just thinking.”

He walks over and leans back on the counter to face you, playfully wrestling the peach out of your hand. You mash your lips together and curl your toes in your shoes as he turns away from you and rinses the peach in the sink. When he turns back, you continue your game of keepaway with your smirks, and he softly laughs as he barely catches yours before you place it in the fruit bowl.

His arm extends and flexes, flicking the water from his peach.

“You looked pretty spacey.”

And then he rubs it on his stomach.

“Workin’ on somethin’?”

“Just, sorta…”

You aren’t sure where to put the last peach, now that there’s an odd number.

“Kinda lost in… anyway.”

Yoongi brings his serving to his lips. In your periphery, you see his thin plastic and leather bracelets, all with differing lengths and widths and clasps, fall down the column of his forearm, the common black among them boldly standing out against his ivory fondant skin. You count them, six in all, rungs up the ladder from his powder pink elbow to the matching pink pressure points of his fingers, where he’s securing his hold on his treat. Right by his thumb, a deeper pink tongue darts out and licks the velvety skin, as if to spot and mark his bite, before opening his mouth around the area. The satisfying crunch of his teeth through the peach’s skin rattles through your chest cavity, and is followed by a soft grunt of appreciation, then, quiet, hungry slurps and chews of juice and flesh, before ending with an effortlessly wanting swallow.

“Mmm. Sweet. You picked well.”

He stretches his arm out to you, and you eye gold rivers running alongside teal veins, all mixing with that ivory fondant. A different kind of sweet.

“Want some?” he asks, blinking at you.

You nod slightly, mouth opening again before he’s even reached you.

Your bodies are close, his right belt loop edging your left, yours slightly higher with him leaning back like that. You have every right to ask him why he’s looking at you in the way that he is, eyes wide and blinking. But more questions are coming to mind. Why the peach is moving toward your mouth instead of your hand. Why his head is also moving forward. Why he licks his lips before giving you a taste.

Magazine articles flash through your mind. Pout a little. Open your mouth slowly. And whatever happens, feel free. Feel right.

“Sneaky!” Jin exclaims, as he bursts into the kitchen with all of your luggage in tow.

Yoongi shoots upwards, all that energy reserved put to failed use. Your heart, which had been suspended by that ladder of bracelets, drops as they do, Yoongi’s arm wilting to his side, the bite of peach turned inward toward the cabinet as if to hide. You do the same, cowering in the fruit bowl.

“Just a snack,” Yoongi says defensively. “By the fucking way, it’s hot as balls.”

“It’s summer,” Jin replies. His rolling eyes don’t stop until the rolling wheels of your luggage come to a pause in the corner of the living room.

As Jin adamantly marches over to you, you can’t help but compare and contrast.

Where Yoongi is tight and ready, Jin is dynamic and flowing. Even in annoyance, or maybe especially so. Jin gathers his energy from his swinging limbs, his body constantly winding up and exploding. He lifts his shoulder and reaches across with his other hand to use his sleeve to clean up the sweat at his temple. As he does the same for his other side, you catch a peek of his six-pack, sectioned and flat, pleasant lines across his textbook, Ken doll torso forming as he lifts a leg to hop up onto the counter and have a seat.

“I see that you’ve kept the stew ingredients out,” Jin notices.

“All we’re missing are the fish heads,” Yoongi replies, challenging.

Jin grins.

“I have the pizza order saved and ready, too,” you say jokingly, leaning on the counter and looking unamused.

Yoongi doesn’t play keepaway with this smirk.

“You guys are assholes,” Jin pouts. “I invite you here. Clean up the space. Pick you fools up at the crack of dawn. And all you bring with you is a lack of faith.”

“Did you check to see the lake levels before coming here?” you ask.

Jin draws a blank. “Uh…”

“Do you even know what kind of fish live in this lake?” Yoongi asks.

Jin shrugs. “Bass?”

“Red snapper,” Yoongi answers. “It’s a saltwater lake.”

“And with the drought, there haven’t been many of any kind of fish this year,” you explain, reaching into your pocket and pulling out your trusty phone. You show Jin the report you’d searched, and Jin frowns at how much more difficult his job has become.

To add some of that saltwater to the wound, Yoongi tosses in, “We also bought the groceries and packed all that shit, so…”

“Fucking researchers.” Jin whines, before the next sentence shoots out of him like a triumphant cannonball. “Well, fear not. We will catch a boatful of fish, and we’re going to guzzle down our body weights in fish stew, goddammit!”

You think of the upcoming sight of him casting his line. Jin the fishing pole, winding the reel like he winds his limbs for power, and swan-diving into that beautiful lake, elegant and graceful in the winningest way. You can taste the stew already.

Jin looks at Yoongi expectantly.

“Yes?” Yoongi asks, ironically disapproving.

“Let’s go get set up,” Jin says, hopping back down off of the counter and slapping Yoongi on the shoulder. Jin smiles at you fondly as he walks backwards toward your collective luggage. “Gotta make sure this one eats.”

You smile happily at the delicious tickle of him doting on you. Jin, teasing and quirky. Always pretending that you’re a burden. Always following through with such care. Which conversation was it that you told him fish stew was your favorite?

Yoongi turns to you, and your mind shifts from clouds to fire. He tosses the peach in the air, and you catch it with both hands as he walks off. The corner of his mouth digs into his cheek, a tiny coil of energy reforming. This bite is just the start.

The sound of Jin and Yoongi bickering is a welcome soundtrack to your nervous twitching in front of the mirror.

The bathing suits you’ve packed are mostly conservative one-pieces with sweetheart necklines. You know and love your body, but you don’t share it with others. The only way you’d buy a string bikini would be through the surreptitious colliding of a whim and a discount. The ties look delicate at your back and hip, pleasantly tingly on your skin where the knots sit.

You gaze at yourself in the master bedroom closet’s full-length mirror. The guys had graciously decided that you would get the biggest room before you even decided on the dates of the trip. Maximum privacy. Your comfort is the ultimate goal.

But you feel anything but comfort as you stare at yourself.

Yoongi’s irritated but somehow dulcet voice wafts up through second level and on up to the rafters. Though Jin’s voice punctuates it, you can still hear Yoongi saying it in your mind, like he did in the car.

Pussy.

You stare down at your bikini bottom and run the pad of your right index finger just under the strap, and then under the cloth.

Pussy shaved.

But for what? Pussying out?

You groan and change back into your favorite, simple one-piece, golden like the flesh of a peach, before sliding on a pair of denim shorts for good measure. You’re able to smile at yourself when you swing your hair over the front of your shoulder. Maybe you’re pussying out, but you’ll look cute doing it. Besides. You still have a week, and for now, this is enough.

Towel, book, and sunglasses in hand, you skip down the steps and find Jin, in flip flops, board shorts, and a baggy tee, and Yoongi still in his white tee and jeans.

“OK, so we’ve got the cooler, the bait, the poles---”

Yoongi stops mid-sentence when he and Jin see you slide open the door to the backyard deck. Their eyes deepen, darken, and dilate to twice their size when you reach them.

“Damn,” Jin mutters. “Yep. I’ve got a pole, alright.”

Coming from anyone else, it wouldn’t have been perceived by you as a favorable thing to say. But for Jin, you scrunch up your nose to make room for your flattered smile. “Aw. I’m gonna pretend that was more eloquently said and take it as a compliment.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jin teases, reaching out to nip at you with his fingers, making you giggle and jump back. “How else would you say it, then?”

Yoongi looks you up and down, head still, eyes melting slowly down your frame. Even slower when climbing back up again. He looks sleepy when he does it. It’s nearly the same face he has when you’re pulling an all-nighter in the library, or when he’s had enough of the movie that you’re watching but doesn’t want to say so. So much is going on in his head. You know because of how his fists are clenched.

“Stunner,” he says softly, mouth barely moving.

Your flattered smile turns into one of pride. “Like that.” You place your sunglasses on your face and turn to Jin. “Exactly like that.”

Yoongi doesn’t make a show of it. But he does grin slightly, the corners of his eyes nearly pulling them closed altogether.

“Ohhhh, oh-kaaaay, ex-cuuuuuse me!” Jin jokes dramatically, bending over to pick up the cooler housing the bait and beer.

He leads the way down the steps and toward the dock, and you and Yoongi follow behind him. The fish hooks swing happily as Yoongi carries the poles under his arm, hands shoved into his pockets. And the end of your beach towel sways gently as you hug it and your book against your chest. All the while, you and Yoongi walk shoulder to shoulder, facing forward, but slightly turning inward to share playful looks as Jin brags about how his witty come-ons must just be too epic for you to grasp.

Getting in the boat is no problem, and you enjoy the grasp of Yoongi’s delectable fingers on your hips as he helps you inside. Maneuvering the boat is no problem, and you enjoy the confident, serene grin painted across Jin’s face as the wind wins its way with his hair. But lying in the boat is proving to be a bit of a problem, the heat from the sun too much, and the heat between you and Yoongi nearly unbearable.

For you, at least.

Does anyone else know it’s there?

Why else would he glance over at you before he does anything, from setting the bait perfectly to proudly showing off the fish he’s catching, and at a faster rate than Jin? With each new feat accomplished, you do the dance; he leads by playing it off like it’s nothing, and you share how impressed you are, while Jin gets lost in trying to find an accolade of his own.

“This one’s gotta be bigger!” Jin replies, holding up his latest catch.

He watches the working tops of your discerning eyes, the rest shielded behind the sunglasses perched at the end of your nose as you lie back, the bottom of your book next to your navel, and the spine resting against your thighs slanting upward.

“Not sure,” you say playfully, looking back down to your finger on the page. “Seems like Yoongi’s fifth catch was a bit meatier.”

“There’s a fifth catch?!” Jin exclaims, his fourth hopelessly dangling in his hands.

“There’s a seventh,” Yoongi remarks blandly, turning from the side of the boat to face the three of you. The newest snapper is huge. If it hadn’t been caught, it could have easily been blamed for the disappearance of Yoongi and Jin’s shared, if unbalanced, haul.

Jin sighs and adds his contribution to the pile before sitting down and reaching into the cooler. “Fuck it. I give up. Yoongi, catch a couple more, and I’ll make the stew.”

Yoongi’s already casting his next line. He glances back. Your eyes squinch for a moment. And then he turns back to the water, cracking his neck and shrugging his shoulders.

Jin’s arm retracts from the open cooler, beer can in hand. He pops the tab and eagerly gulps, his neck bulging satisfyingly with each drink. Yes, you have your sights on something with Yoongi, but if anything distracts you from figuring out what that might be, it’s the sight of Jin’s thirsty throat.

He lets out a refreshed roar after nearly downing the whole can. And then he eyes the back cover of your book, as you all gently bob up and down in the waves.

“Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain,” he reads.

You grin.

“Is that your new science?” Jin asks. “Brain stuff?”

You nod. “Psychology. I’ve decided.”

Jin swivels his head around to Yoongi’s back. There’s a line of sweat down Yoongi’s spine. His hair has grown fluffy in the humidity, and both you and Jin soften at the sight.

“And you, Captain fucking Philips?” Jin asks.

“That doesn’t even work,” Yoongi says, tugging his line back. “You can’t just use things because, like, boats.”

“Whatever.” Jin leans over and pulls another beer out of the cooler. His left elbow rests on his left knee, fingers gripping the cab near the top. His right arm holds out the fresh can in your direction. He doesn’t quite hand it to you, instead hovering just in front of you so that you’re forced to close your book, sit up, and reach over for it yourself. Forced to jump in, like he wants.

“Data science,” you answer with a chuckle. “Yoongi’s a computer nerd now.”

“Just now?” Jin jokes.

Yoongi’s knees bend a little to cushion for a stronger current, and you and Jin share a fond look.

But the pressure in your chest returns. Partially because you’ve drunk too much foam, and too much too fast. And partially because you’re starting to feel like this is a dress rehearsal. You haven’t told your parents about your major change yet, and you have a feeling that it’s not going to go well.

“Why are we talking about school, anyway?” you ask.

Picking up on the friction in your voice, Yoongi’s chin edges over the back of his shoulder, just slightly, his profile eclipsing the sun, his face a shadow haloed.

Jin shrugs. “I guess because it’s how we met. And it’s why we’re here.”

Yoongi’s throat sounds a little dry when he asks, “Here at the lake?”, so Jin reaches back over to the cooler and pulls out another beer, his torso lengthening and creating a graceful curve as he reaches sideways and places it in Yoongi’s curved, waiting palm. The palm angles the bottom of the can to Yoongi’s thigh, and he opens the tab with one finger, drinking as Jin continues.

“Yeah. I wanted to… I don’t know. Thank you?”

Yoongi’s shoulders tense a little, and you tilt your head in his direction. “Thank us?” you ask. “For what?” Yoongi asks flatly, in anticipation of whatever it is that Jin’s about to ask for.

Jin smiles. “For being my friends. And for making what could’ve been a really shitty first year of college… well, not shitty.”

You feel your heart reaching out and hugging Jin, and even Yoongi can’t help but smile at Jin’s genuine words. He smirks and says, “Well, that’s cool. I was lowkey worried that you were bringing us out here to kill us for some sort of rich boy snuff film, but this is a much better outcome.”

Jin motions for Yoongi to set the line down and join you by the cooler before he crunches his empty can and reaches for another.

“And why would I do that? I’ve never had friends to invite out here,” Jin says, before taking another sip.

As Yoongi and Jin bicker about whether or not there are dead bodies of past so-called friends littering the grounds, you sip your beer and enjoy the fading sun. In a way, you’re thankful that you haven’t had the kind of friends that you’ve read about in stories. If you had, you would’ve learned by now that these moments are so ubiquitous, but the follow-through is so heartbreakingly rare. Life paths fork. No one’s fault, and nothing to be done except to go on. But there’s something about Jin and Yoongi being fellow newcomers to this that makes you think they’ll stick around.

That this really means something.

You wish you had gone for the bikini. At the very least, you wish you hadn’t put those shorts on. To take them off now would feel weird.

The best you can do is continue lying on your back on the rug next to the sofa, shorts fully unbuttoned and unzipped, lungs unfolding and mind uncaring if Jin or Yoongi sees how your belly looks when it’s full of fish stew. Not like they’re looking, anyway. They had found respective spots on the couch and recliner to do the same.

Some lazy things help you pass time. Jin asks you to read passages from your book, and when you do, you throw in other facts that you’d looked up and learned along the way. Yoongi asks Jin more about his summers at the cabin, and Jin tells you stories and jokes from his family’s annual stays. By the time you throw a question into the ring, it’s been hours.

“What’s the deal with the magnolia tree?” you ask.

Jin smiles fondly. “You noticed it?”

“Yeah. Those aren’t native to this area.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Did you guys look up the historical ecology of my parents’ land or---?”

“The lake stats are open access,” Yoongi sighs, “as most data should be.”

“And there were plenty of fish,” you say, smiling and finally sitting up. “I just didn’t see any other magnolia trees on the drive in except for the one in front. That’s all.”

Eyes sparkling, Jin answers, “It’s my great-grandmother’s. She wanted a magnolia tree, and her parents gifted it to her. It’s been on the property since she was a little girl.”

You smile. “That’s so cute!”

“Right?” Jin agrees.

“And the swing?”

“My dad set up the tire swing when he was a kid. We can go check it out if you want.”

You do, but Jin’s yawn tells you that maybe it’s better to wait another day.

“It’s late,” you say.

“Not that late,” Yoongi mumbles.

Your heart starts to race at the thought of a moment alone with Yoongi, cloaked in darkness, the scent of magnolia swirling around you.

Jin yawns again, animatedly, standing and stretching with force. “Alright. You two go play. Keys are on the counter. I’m gonna call it.” His footsteps clomp toward the guest room in the east corner of the house. His voice thins as it travels away. “Start thinking about what red snapper dish you’d like me to cook tomorrow. Some fiend caught like twenty of them today.”

You and Yoongi share a smile as Jin’s door closes. And then Yoongi stands from his seat in the recliner.

He leans down and extends his hand to you. His fingers hold tighter than you were expecting.

The night air is still a bit too warm, sticking to the insides of your lungs so strongly that you can taste magnolia petals on your tongue.

Yoongi’s drenched in sweat by the time you get to the swing.

“You don’t want first dibs?” you ask, poking the tire and gazing at him with wide, curious eyes.

Yoongi shakes his head. He squats a little before reaching for the tire swing, balancing the bottom of it on his firm thighs, and stretching his arms out to angle the tire back. “C’mon,” he tells you warmly.

The frame he’s created makes it easy to climb inside. He laughs kindly, like you might laugh at a pet. When you struggle to readjust, Yoongi hoists you up with an arm at your waist, and you slide your legs through the hole once more.

“Comfy?” Yoongi asks, still clutching the swing to him.

You rest against his chest for a moment and nod.

Yoongi looks down to you, his nose in your sun-baked hair.

And then you sail forward.

Yoongi’s hands meet the tire on your way back, and he pushes you out again. Your chin rests in the crook of your elbow as you rest on the top curve of the tire, gazing out at the lake and stars, the infinite sky and water like a portal to some other world entirely.

“That was nice, what Jin said,” Yoongi says, giving the black rubber another gentle push when you return to him once more.

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s a really kind-hearted person. Y’know. Hidden under all that… nonsensical charm?”

Yoongi chuckles. He hangs onto the tire a little longer this time before letting you swing away.

“I’m thankful we all met, too,” Yoongi replies. “Never really had a ‘group’ before.”

“Same,” you say, angling so that you don’t hit Yoongi with your knees.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows, the thud of the tire against him resounding the point. “You mean… you didn’t have plans for the summer, either?”

“No,” you say. It’s a little bit of a lie.

You watch Yoongi dutifully brushing away a few ants from the part of the tire closest to your arms. “Huh.”

You lean forward as Yoongi gives you a stronger push. The air doesn’t split to make way for you, like you want. You stretch your arms out, and you half expect to feel something like cotton all around you. “You sound surprised,” you say. “But I’ve told you both before. Growing up, I didn’t really… fit in… anywhere? I was kinda forced to keep to myself.”

“Yeah, well, I prefer to,” Yoongi replies. “So I’m surprised that I don’t hate this so much.”

He catches you, your bodies facing each other, the tire between you, but your shins touching his stomach. Just feeling him against you sends you into a spiral, and seeing his veiny grip on the smoothed tire threads gives you the impulse to suck on those fingers.

Your legs part as you imagine those fingers entering your mouth, and you wrap the backs of your ankles around the backs of his calves to pull yourself closer. You snake through the tire, your face closer to Yoongi’s, and brought even closer when Yoongi reels you in. He’s drenched. His white tee might as well not even exist.

“Still so hot,” you say quietly. “What about a swim to cool down? The air was way too thick earlier, but maybe now that it’s nighttime, it’ll be a little more pleasant.”

Yoongi grins, soft eyes taking you in now that, under the moon, you’ve changed from gold to silver.

He lifts you out of the swing, setting you on your toes.

When you get to the dock, Yoongi freezes and watches you pull off your shorts. He licks his lips as he sees the curve of your ass, muscles flexing and relaxing as the denim hits the wood. Overwhelmed with excitement, you jump into the lake, not minding that it’s the dead of night. Not minding that this could be dangerous. Maybe even driven closer to it as a result.

His eyes shift left and right.

“It feels nice,” you call back to him. “Join me.”

“I don’t have anything to swim in,” Yoongi admits.

“Go get something from your room.”

“No, I mean… I just realized… I didn’t bring anything to swim in,” Yoongi replies.

You laugh, and he shrinks just a little.

“Then strip down to your skivvies,” you joke, as you kick around in the water.

Yoongi’s eyes light up as he watches you floating, stars around you shimmering and rippling.

“You should know. I hate the water.”

You’re about to apologize and swim back to the dock, bailing on the idea of a swim entirely. But then, Yoongi reaches for the stomach of his shirt. He grabs the fabric and gathers it into a clump, grip so strong that he feels himself wringing out some sweat. He pulls it upward, and you see a peek at those striations of muscle across his body. He lifts the fabric, shoulders rolling back, the left one soon winding through the sleeve the way you had through the swing. He pulls his head through the collar, and then pulls the fabric down his other, braceleted forearm before letting the ghostly gossamer fabric fall to the ground.

Small, tight nipples dot his carved pecs. You want them in your mouth, then to lick down the line separating the two sides of his chest, and the two columns of his abs. A happy trail leads down to his fly, and you wet your lips, getting a taste of salt, and wondering if it’ll match what’s underneath.

As his hands find his waistband, his eyes widen again.

“Uh… you should also know…”

You see his arms tense, thumbs unsure as they run along the band.

“I’m not wearing any…” He smirks. “Skivvies, as it were.”

Your jaw falls open again, and when Yoongi sees, he knows that you couldn’t care less.

Buried within the whirlwind of magnolias, a hint of peach.

Kicking as you tread water, you expect to hit ground with your toes faster than finding the surface under Yoongi’s eyes. They go on forever, and they hold your gaze as Yoongi undoes his belt. The sound of water lapping, and metal buckles clanging, embeds deeply into your brain, so much so that when you run a bath, or slide a hanger across the bar in your closet, you’ll think of him.

He wiggles out of his black jeans, only looking away from you momentarily to make sure he has sound footing. And then he straightens, combing his hair back with his fingers.

Those jeans were cushioning a perfectly round ass, somehow both soft and tight. A cut, muscular line on either side of his legs makes room for a shadow to highlight how meaty his thighs actually are, and they barely jiggle when he walks forward. Feet wide and big, like his palms. Yoongi evokes a quiet strength, but a dangerous one all the same. You check the end of the dock to make sure you hadn’t dropped your heart there.

Yoongi smiles naughtily at you as he walks down the dock, thick dick and balls swinging with power and zeal. Even though nothing’s happened yet, you’re already marveling at it. He sits down and dips his toes in as you swim over, eager to receive him.

“Gonna join me?” you ask, feigning impatience.

“Gonna make it worth my while?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

You shrug, with a naughty grin of your own. “For you to decide.” Your grin falters a bit. “I’m not actually sure, myself. Never done this kind of thing before.”

“Really?” Yoongi asks quietly. “Because… because, uh… same.”

The honest gaze you share with him coaxes him into the water. He slips in with little fanfare, and you swim over to where he’s disappeared.

He bobs back up, his head bowed, hair collecting in a downwards V in front of him, water shunted down by the strands. He lets out a breath, wipes his face underneath, and then flips his hair back, spraying you suddenly with water.

You squeal, closing your eyes just in time to avoid getting salt in them. He laughs at you, whispering, “Ah, sorry, sorry,” as he makes his way to you.

Your bodies settle in front of each other, and you float there for a while.

Yoongi speaks first. “I was, uh… hoping we’d… get another moment.”

You beam, and Yoongi smiles as he brings his hands to his face, fingers wrapping around his nose and running down the bridge to the tip, helping him wipe away a bit of algae from the lake’s surface.

He misses some, so you reach forward and get the rest, your thumb and forefinger moving gently and carefully. “Yeah. Me too.”

Yoongi takes your wrist and pulls you into him.

“So, uh… what are you… what are you feeling?”

You tilt your head and close your eyes to think and answer, missing the way Yoongi delights in how you always take things so literally.

“I don’t know,” you answer, slowly returning to him, the tire swinging back.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, and you let out a soft grunt.

“You… you wanna see where it goes?” he asks timidly.

Smiling, you give him another nod.

And you try to just let it happen.

Most of your life has been so planned out that it feels like a small rebellion to go with your natural instincts. They tell your legs to wrap around his waist, and squeeze together tightly when his hands find your thighs. He moans when you bob down as he bobs up, his cock pressing against the bottom of your suit, resting right in the crevice between your pillowy curves.

Lips come together and touch lightly. You giggle a little, and then you find yourself opening your mouth wider and wider as you do it again and again. The magazine clippings sound less like the cute girls on the cover of those magazines, and more like your inner thoughts. And with more deep, longing kisses, you stop hearing the instructions altogether.

He lets out a soft gasp as he brings his arms around you, hugging you close to him. You wrap your arms around his neck in response, hands limp and soaring through the air the way they did as the pendulous tire swing moved back and forth to Yoongi’s rhythm. You trace the lines of the muscles on his shoulders and back, and when you get him in a particularly ticklish spot, he laughs and spins you around, making you squeal again.

“This isn’t exactly fair,” Yoongi says. “I’m naked, and you’re not.”

You grin. “Yet.”

Yoongi bites his lip and watches as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He holds steady, making you whine.

A playfully stern look. “That is, unless you don’t want to see.”

Yoongi completely lets you go and holds his hands up in surrender, causing you to dip chin-deep into the water. He cackles, while your eyes widen and your lips form a circle that your throat forces a chuckle out of.

“Oh ho ho, so it’s gonna be like that?”

“Just eager to find out what I’ve been missing,” he says apologetically.

You flick your eyebrows up. Unlike Yoongi, you love the water. You spent your childhood summers in lessons, doing laps around the kids three age groups older than you. On beach trips, you gravitated toward the murkier, heavier tides when your family would stay on the sand. By now, you’re so graceful that you’re almost performing a ballet, bringing your knees up and twirling out of your suit in one easy go. You pull the one-piece up to the surface and show Yoongi, the damp fabric dangling off of your index finger. He softly murmurs something to himself, in a deep growl that sounds like his studious self-talk. You fist the fabric in your hand and heave it back onto the dock, aiming for not too far away from where Yoongi’s clothes sit. When you bob up, Yoongi sees your bare breasts for a moment, and he rushes over to you to hold you up for longer.

Giggling and blushing, you sink back into his hold, and you hear the wet, dull thump of your suit making contact, as if locking you two into this moment. With its allowance, you fit your lips together into more incredible combinations, tongues and fingers and bodies becoming more and more intertwined.

After a little while, Yoongi suddenly whispers, “Let’s go inside.”

You’d woken his cock long ago, and he needs to escape the painful currents that your bobbing bodies keep creating. He wants to be surrounded by only you.

“This is incredible,” he affirms, “but it’s so dark. I want to see all of you. Have you to myself. Without all these fish watching.”

You can’t help but glow at the request. You’d been so busy hiding.

Getting back onto the dock is a bit of a chore. He inadvertently eases the awkward tension by grumbling at a splinter inserting itself into his knee as he picks up your pile of clothes. As you laugh, he reaches out for your hand, claiming to need some help. You’re ready for how tightly he’ll hold. But the thing that throws you off this time is the way he gazes at you.

His disarmingly strong thighs do all the work of lifting him back to his feet. Your hand just rests in his palm. And when you start to turn to lead him back to the cabin, his hold snaps you back to him.

“Stand still for a sec.”

The heat of his gaze upon you in the brilliant moon’s shine. You can’t breathe.

He bites his lip when he raises your arm and slowly twirls you. Easy curves bend into staunch thighs. Your rakish breasts slope like your luscious ass. The line of your spine dips inward, separating two dimples that Yoongi desperately wants to slot his thumbs into as he takes you from behind.

“Shaved,” he observes, as you complete the turn and he steps into you for another kiss. He rubs at your mound, fingers spread apart and tickling you, making you bend in half and grip onto his bicep. He laughs and pulls you into him. “Seems like you might’ve had a little bit of a plan.”

The first of many times that Yoongi will call you out on your shit.

But your eyelids are already closing in anticipation of more delicious kisses. No defenses here. You submit so willingly. “Just… wanted to be ready?”

“Mm.” Yoongi smirks. “Wish I could’ve helped you. Tell me next time.”

God. You haven’t even started yet.

You scurry back to the cabin and sneak up the stairs, jumping into the shower together and quickly sudsing and rinsing the lake off of you. You waste no time drying off, instead falling into your bed in the master bedroom.

Between hurried pecks, Yoongi asks you, “What’s with all these swimsuits?”

They’re all still laid out on the comforter, different versions of yourself that you had not-planned, flattening under your bodies. Later, you’ll wonder if things would have been different if you’d picked any one of them instead.

“Why? You wanna borrow one?”

Yoongi frowns playfully, and you hold up one of the ones closest to you. “What about this one?” you consider. “The pink polka dots are fun, right?”

He’s actually seen this one, as part of a makeshift costume for one of your first semester roommate’s projects. The recognition in his eyes tells you that though he says, “Sure?”, he definitely remembers the trajectory of its scoop neckline.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” You grin. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He laughs as he presses more kisses onto your lips. “Really?”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.”

“I’m sorry. Terrible puns? You must have me mistaken for Jin. Would you like me to go get him?”

Yoongi moves to plant his foot on the ground, but you pull him back down onto you, giggling and smooching him with glee.

The bed doesn’t feel all that different from the lake. You roll into one another over and over, the fitted sheet and comforter making waves in your wake. Yoongi surrounds you, forearms resting on the mattress on either side of you, hands cradling your head as he gazes down at you. He uses his thumbs to play with your plump, kiss-blushed lips. He runs his right thumb over them, your tongue catching it and giving it a lick before it reaches the opposite corner. Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he watches your lips bounce back into place.

Grunting, he asks, “You… wanna?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling. “Let’s find out what it’s like.”

Yoongi makes you chuckle when he kisses you and leaps off of the bed and over to the dresser to pull out his wallet from his crumpled jeans. He fishes out a condom, and you hum sweetly when he returns to you, the tip of his cock pulsing at your entrance.

“You have one?” You glance over to the four other condoms still connected and waiting for you on the dresser. You echo, “Just wanted to be ready?”

“No,” Yoongi says devilishly. “I had a plan.”

His eyes are narrow, and focused, just like they looked when he bit into that peach.

He lines up with you and slowly pushes into your entrance, the sensation initially a shock to both of you. Muscles tense, and tissue flexing. There’s a strong pressure at first, a pressure that you’re worried will hurt the more you let it in. As his shaft travels through your narrow canal, you cry out, almost wanting to ask him to back out and try it again. But there’s something telling you to hold on. To let it happen. To trust that whatever’s on the other side is going to be worth it.

All either of you can do is groan as each inch of you swallows each inch of him.

You’re glad that you give yourself the time. When Yoongi bottoms out, your legs are already shaking, and your breaths are staggering themselves as they travel out of your throat in their new trappings as moans.

Yoongi’s forehead rests on your shoulder, and you place a hand on the back of his head, rubbing it comfortingly. “You feel so good around me,” he whines, sucking in air through his clenched teeth.

A bellow seeps out from your gut when he tries to move.

“Hurts?” he asks.

“No, f-feels amazing,” you gasp. “Keep going.”

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you. “At first. I kind of…” He trawls his bottom lip through his teeth and bites down, holding the plumpest part hostage, the rest of his mouth pushing forward. And when you suddenly pucker, his lip pops out at the force of his moan. “I want it slow like this, anyway? What do you think?”

You can only nod, forehead touching the base of his neck.

Each stroke is measured exactly, deep and cautious. Your arousal gathers in the vacuum, and it forms a rope attached to his slit that pulls with each pull back before globbing together at each thrust forward. With each lustful movement, Yoongi’s perfect cock threatens to pull your entire cunt inside out, and you’d thank him for it.

As he fucks you, his tongue searches for something to latch onto, roving over your neck and lips, pink tip flicking at each fold of skin as you move and bend in response to his actions. You open your mouth and draw him in there, too, grunts becoming louder, no doubt heard by Jin if he’d had a room on this floor.

Even though your body wants him to go faster, and your hips are moving slightly underneath him to cue him to do so, he maintains his pace, luxuriating in the feel of you, slippery and succulent, heated, even familiar in many ways. Your bond doesn’t make this weird. It makes this better. A redefinition of where you are. Not stifling. Rather, unlocking potential. Opening up. Letting each other into your lives. It makes sense that this first experience would be shared, too. You realize how wrong it would have been to share it with anyone else. You’d only met ten months ago, but you’ve known him forever.

Yoongi hits a spot, center-back, and you both release each other’s mouths to groan in pleasure, eyes flashing open and finding each other in wonder.

“Mmm,” you sigh, tightening your hold on him.

He pouts as he thrusts there again, more purposefully, building on the happy accident you’ve both stumbled across. And when you mewl and turn your head to your right, he snickers and leans back down to you, kissing your cheek, and the spot behind your ear.

“Can I speed up?” he mumbles, his voice low and buzzing against your eardrum.

When he feels the cartilage of your ear sliding up and down against his lips, he breathes deeply and hugs your body to his in response.

He starts to buck harder into you, strokes just as deep, but a little faster. Stuttering. The headboard starts to knock into the wall a little, and though Yoongi looks up every now and then to make sure the two of you aren’t doing a ton of damage, you try, and fail, over and over, to tell him that you’d rather him fuck you through that wall. To raze this entire cabin. To destroy you.

The friction of your drying skin starts to give you a little bit of rug burn. Bands at your thighs and hips, where Yoongi has gripped you tightly, pinched you, rubbed against you, are starting to sting. And you’re sure that the nails you’re digging into his back, just under his shoulder blades, now starting to scratch down to his waist, are going to leave trails.

Another perfect stroke, and your hips come off of the mattress as you sing praises. Yoongi secures his arm around your waist and holds you up even higher as he buries himself into you, faster now, forcing his voice to climb in pitch with the effort it’s taking to please you and not lose himself in the process.

A new pressure starts to form. Your pelvis has curled into fists, curling tightly around your cavern, squeezing tightly. You think about the grip that Yoongi had on that peach, and you feel it now, his fingers grabbing onto ass and thigh meat, pinching with each dive forward.

“I think I’m gonna come,” you sigh, a whine trailing your sentence.

Yoongi lows, and he somehow knows to keep doing what he’s doing, figuring that if you’re enjoying it that much, the worst thing he could do is change it up.

Little whines and moans escape you as you grab onto random parts of him, his arms, his elbows, his shoulders, his back, unsure of how to arrange your body in preparation of the wave that’s about to crash over you. You tug at his neck, wanting his lips on yours. He obliges, pressing your shoulders into the mattress as he rests his weight onto his hands there, leaving it up to you to hold your thighs tight around his hips as he barrels into you.

A scratchy tickle of a groan pushes its way out of Yoongi’s throat, a preface to the stroke that he hits you with, right in that spot that has served you so well.

You suddenly loosen your hold, legs threatening to fall.

Yoongi collapses with you, falling onto you, hips still lined up, bodies still joined, both your lower halves shaking as your upper halves cling to each other for stability and safety. The kisses you give each other are chaotic and fervid, until your legs have re-discovered the mattress beneath them. Then, the kisses become as languid as the first ones you’d shared, in the water. The two of you, drifting.

Yoongi’s eyes form squiggly lines just before he pries them open. He blinks softly a couple of times, and then he widens his eyes and forcefully slams them shut a couple more. Now that he’s fully awake, he realizes that you aren’t lying in his arms.

But he feels you near him.

He looks down at the foot of the bed and sees you hunched over something, your hair over your shoulder to show him your golden, dewy body, the line of your spine arching up gently, like a reed out of the water, the stem of a flower.

A soft sigh breathes out of Yoongi’s nostrils, and you turn back to him, noticing that he’s up.

He’s smiling at you from his pillow, head propped up by a bent elbow, those bracelets falling in the way that they do. He leans forward and runs his finger down your spine, shivering at his tingling touch.

You peek through your hair, and smile back at his own morning fluff-ball.

“Well, good morning,” you say.

“Good morning,” he responds, voice adorably deep and crackly.

Just hearing him is almost enough to get you going again. And when you tell him so, he eagerly lies back down, pulling you back into the bed with him. Right up against him.

“Why do you have your chemistry notebook out?” Yoongi asks, noticing the pages and pen grasped in your hands. He runs his hands down your arms and tries to grab it from you. “You’re not re-enrolling, are you?”

You tuck the pen in the notebook and toss the entire thing over to your suitcase.

“Nah. I just still had it in my suitcase from winter break.”

“Were you writing in it?”

“Just looking over some notes.”

You grin as Yoongi nestles into you, starting to fall back asleep, now that you’re in his arms.

As you peacefully comb your fingers through his locks, your notes, on a different sort of chemistry, continue to flash in your head.

Hands. Strong, but really gentle.

Eyes, so unbelievably intense. Just thinking about them is making my heart pound. When I look into them, I see almost nothing else.

Voice. Hypnotic. Could listen to his groans and moans for hours. Almost wish I had a recording of them.

That stroke. Deep within. I could barely think straight. Nearly complete dissociation. I’ve never gotten lost like that before.

And he’s really, really fucking good with his mouth. Can’t wait to feel it everywhere. Wonder what it would feel like around my clit. That is, if I still have one at this point.

You laugh to yourself, and Yoongi half-heartedly mumbles a note of curiosity. You ignore him, feeling his body going limp around you.

“We’re definitely doing that again, by the way,” you whisper to him.

You feel his lips bend into a smile, pressed against the back of your neck.

And then you feel his body moulding to you, beginning to move rhythmically, his naked cock already hardening against your ass. He runs his hand across your hip bone, following the seam where your thigh meets your torso, fingers teasing as they make their way to your mound.

His voice is still low and crackly when he responds, “I know.”

Matchmaker | Masterpost

#ficscafe dpe #matchmaker #my fics #bts fanfiction #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts smut #bts fuff #bts angst

50 notes · View notes

picficskpopstyle · 6 years

Text

Baby Sis (Part 2)

Part 1

Request for this scenario:

Could you do a scenario where Jin has a younger sister (...) Suga gets a big crush on her

Group: BTS

Pairing: Suga x Reader

Genre: Haven’t decided yet...fluff for now

“Are you feeling okay? Last night you were a little...zoned out” Taehyung asked. He looked over Yoongi, searching for any signs of sickness or problems. Grabbing a water from the fridge, Yoongi tried to think of a logical explanation. It seemed exceptionally embarrassing to admit that he developed a crush on you within minutes of meeting you. How sappy did that sound?

“I-uh… yeah, I feel fine. I must’ve been a little tired or something” he answered lamely.

“Well, I hope you rested up. You scared us, hyung” Taehyung responded. Yoongi just nodded, not having a better response.

“What do you think of Jin’s sister? She’s pretty right? Seems pretty cool too, huh?” Taehyung said, dropping his voice down a bit.

Yoongi cleared his throat and screwed the cap off of his bottle. This is the topic that he really wanted to avoid. At the same time though, he’d really wanted to bring it up. He wanted to know more about you.

“Beautiful” he commented simply. He took a large swig of the water as Taehyung looked at him strangely. Why were his answers so short?

“Are you sure you’re okay?-”

“Oh yeah! Are you feeling better?” you asked, walking into the kitchen. Yoongi jumped at your voice and spun around to meet your gaze. He took in your outfit: your skirt stopping mid-thigh, your thin sweater and your ponytail. You looked cute and you smelled amazing too. Noticing that he was taking way too long to respond, Yoongi blinked at your concerned face before clearing his throat.

“Yeah, yeah. I feel much better. I must’ve been tired” he rushed out. You smiled and noticed him relax.

“Morning Tae! What’s for breakfast?” you asked. He lifted his bowl of cereal and raised his eyebrows. Obviously Jin wasn’t around then.

“You look pretty. Your classes start today?” Taehyung asked. Yoongi admired how easy it was for Taehyung to talk to you. He’d noticed your outfit too but he couldn’t bring himself to comment on it.

Taehyung, on the other hand, just breezed right through the conversation. Easily. Without a second thought.

“No, they start tomorrow but I have to go pick up a few things today. For you guys” you answered.

“For us?”

“Yeah, Jin has a schedule today? So he asked me to get a few things for the house. Want to come?” you asked. You showed them the folded sheet of paper and grinned. Not really wanting to go alone, you were mentally praying that one of them would go with you.

“I’ll go” Yoongi’s mouth answered. He was shocked by his own words but smiled anyway.

“Thanks. I’m ready when you are” you responded, motioning toward his pajamas. Yoongi looked down and told you to give him twenty minutes. He shuffled off in the direction of his room and started getting ready.

Taehyung passed you a bowl and slid the box of cereal toward you.

“So, what do you think of Yoongi?” he asked, pouring your milk in the bowl. You smiled, he was like a weird bartender with this cereal.

“Mmm, he seems pretty cool. Cute, too” you answered, accepting the spoon he offered. Taehyung grinned, watching you eat.

“Perfect. I think he may have a crush on you” he said. Your hand froze with the spoon and you looked at Taehyung. Why would he think that? You hadn’t even known Yoongi for 2 days yet. How could he know that? How could he suspect that? The two of you had barely interacted.

“Why would you think that?” you asked, finally.

“He was acting really weird last night and the only new thing in his life is you. He offered to go shopping with you too so...” Tae trailed off as if that explained everything.

“He was tired? He said he was tired?”

“He is grumpy when he is tired. He doesn’t just zone out like that” Taehyung asked. He pointed to your cereal, reminding you to eat. You went back to scooping up your cereal.

“Either that or he’s just weirdly uncomfortable with you-”

“Oh, come on! Why’d you have to say that?” you complained. He laughed and you frowned. Now you were going to be worried about that all day. Any time he got a little quiet or stared off, you’d be wondering if he was regretting helping you out.

“I think he likes you though. I mean, I’ve never actually seen him date or even have a crush on anyone but… I’m pretty sure” he said, grinning. You narrowed your eyes but continued eating. Unlike your relationship with Hobi, you weren’t too familiar with Taehyung. Every time you talked to him, he seemed so cute and friendly...up until he started picking on you. He once told you that he liked the ‘frustrated’ look on your face. He described it as “cute” and made it his mission to say at least one thing to make you uncomfortable. So, basically, he was like another brother to you. A brother that you didn’t know too much about.

“You know, you’re kind of a jerk” you said, eating the last spoonful of your cereal.

His jaw fell to the floor as he looked at you.

“What? How?”

“You’re always picking on me! You didn’t need to share your thoughts on Yoongi with me! But you did it to make me feel weird and self-conscious!” you complained. Taehyung blinked and shook his head, feigning heartbreak.

“Wow. I was just curious about if you were interested in a dear friend of mine and this is what you do? I guess I can’t ask you any questions then, huh? Is that it?” he belted out.

“Oh, stop being dramatic-” you cut in.

“Oh! Speaking my mind is DRAMATIC now? Wow. Just wow, ___” he said before getting out of his chair. He stormed out of the kitchen in a huff and you narrowed your eyes. He was clearly out of his mind. Taehyung came back in the same ‘over-the-top’ stride and hugged his arms around your shoulders. He pressed his cheek to your cheek and you could feel him smiling.

“Agh! It’s going to be so much fun with you here” he grinned. Releasing his hold on you, Taehyung ruffled your hair before walking back out.

“You’re crazy!” you called out with a smile.

“Don’t forget to drink your milk!” he retorted. Milk? Really? That’s what he has to say after all of that?

You looked down at your bowl of cereal-less milk and smiled. Even though he was a total weirdo, you still felt compelled to listen to him. Grabbing the bowl, you drunk the rest of the milk and shook your head. This was a madhouse.

Masterlists

#yoongi fluff #fluff #bts fuff #bts scenarios #bts scenario #yoongi scenarios #yoongi scenario #picficskpopstyle #suga fluff #suga scenarios

65 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

back-burner | 10

two broken hearts

PAIRING. min yoongi x reader

GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, frenemies2lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, eventual smut, eventual fuff

WARNINGS. angst, explosive fights, lots of crying, new revelations that break hearts, implications of poor mental health

WORDS. 6.4k

back-burner masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

You couldn’t keep your promises, you realised as you take a brief glance at your wall clock. It’s nearly two a.m. and your eyes are strained with the number of hours you spent in front of your laptop screen. But you suppose that what Jungkook and Yoongi don’t know, won’t hurt them. You were feeling fine, a little drowsy—but more accomplished than anything as you stare at the final draft of the proposal stare back at you when you stare down.

It’s a little rougher than you’d like, but you’d take it. It was months of hard work and persevering, even dealing with overly compassionate friends who wanted you to take a break, so you were relieved that the bulk of it was done. You could think about editing it tomorrow.

You stretch your limbs, craning your neck as you wince at the loud pop it makes. Your cup is empty, and your dining table is strewn with documents and papers like you were back in university. The visual almost makes you smile, the fond memories of pulling all-nighters for assignments and essays returning to your mind.

Then you remember how much you hated what you were studying, and how philosophy was never your thing—but Haerin’s.

You shake your head, standing up and closing your laptop as you approach the kitchen.

But your relatively quiet night (morning), gets disrupted with a rapt knock on your door.

Now, you freeze.

You rarely ever had visitors, and even if you did—they came over at socially acceptable hours, not at demon time. You think the worst for a split second, prepared to grab a knife to defend yourself in case the person behind your door decides that they were too impatient to wait for your greeting and break it down instead.

But you were tired, and lest you don’t necessarily make the best decisions when you were drowsy, so you head to your door, weaponless as you decide to take the risk by piquing your curiousity and opening your door.

Your guest surprises you more than an intruder.

“Haerin?”

“Hi,” she says meekly. She’s dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, more unkempt than you’ve seen her in a long while. “Can I come in?”

You falter, eyes blinking as she nervously rocks on her heel. Only when your eyes refocus onto the figure before you, which was your sister, do you step aside to allow her entry to your apartment.

“Sure, I mean …” you gesture her in as she mumbles a soft thank you under her breath. You’re sleep-deprived and confused. “Is everything all right?”

“I had nowhere else to go,” she murmurs, plopping onto your couch as you shut the door behind you.

You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating because of sleep deprivation, but you were still extremely confused. The tone which Haerin takes is one you’ve never heard her adopt before, making you even more perplexed and worried, especially when she pointedly ignores your question for her vague responses.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone—?”

Haerin looks up, and you’re alarmed to see her red-rimmed eyes and sunken dark circles. “Did you know I was scrolling through my contacts and I realised I had no one to call? No one that I could reach out to?”

“Haerin, you’re scaring me,” you say with a frown as you take a seat next to her. Her eyes are … empty, and it terrifies you because Haerin’s always smiling. She was the bubbly sibling, the one that lifted moods with her presence. The person before you is a reflection of the person you thought you were. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You repeat your question because she doesn’t seem to be responding to it, but Haerin’s eyes drop to her lap as she fiddles with her thumbs.

“I’m sorry. I just—I had no one else I knew that I could go to and you were—”

“Haerin,” you say curtly.

Her face darts up, and her eyes are wide. She looks so vulnerable that your heart aches for her. If anyone were to see the two of you, it’d look like she was the younger sister and not you, especially with the way she hunches herself into a shell you never thought she had.

“What happened?” you ask softly.

The tears in her eyes are what alarms you even further.

“We broke up.”

You take a second, no two; to process her words, and the way that her lip begins to wobble after the words have settled into the air. Your brain attempts to rationalise her statement, recalling the context of her words as your mouth falls open.

They broke up.

“Oh my God,” you say breathlessly, and you have no idea what to think or say. You wanted to be selfish but Haerin looked distraught, and you couldn’t be that person. Not when she was here, vulnerable and open. “Are you okay?”

You repeat your question, again, because you had no idea what to say or do.

Her reaction slightly frightens you, but you keep your composure.

“We broke up,” she repeats with a tight laugh as all you can do is stare at her. “Were we even together?”

“Haerin …” you say quietly, reaching out to grab her hand in a manner that was so uncharacteristic for the both of you that she seems to jump at the contact. But the lifelessness in her eyes only causes you to encase her smaller palms with your own. “I know it must hurt—”

“Is this what I’m feeling?” she asks, “I don’t know how I feel and I’m so—I’m so scared.”

She sounds so distant, and you can’t imagine the thoughts or feelings that run through her mind. You’re too preoccupied with the fact that Haerin is in front of you, confiding you when your dynamics were never like that.

So, you bring her into your arms, the only way you know how to for the time being. It felt awkward and slightly stiff when her chin meets your shoulder, but you pat her back softly in an attempt to comfort her in a way you know your words can’t.

“I thought …” she says shakily, “I thought it was the right choice. That we were going to work out. I mean, we were friends basically our entire teenage to adult life. And … it just—”

She pulls away, eyes wide when she looks at you as if you had answers.

“Why didn’t it work out?”

You say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Sometimes, it’s easy to conflate platonic love and romantic love.”

Her eyes drop to her lap once more as you squeeze her shoulders.

“Did I?” she asks quietly.

“Sorry?”

Haerin looks up, and she looks visibly deflated as if she had failed herself. You wonder if this was her first failure, in life. One that didn’t necessarily constitute her intellect, but represented her emotional connections with people that weren’t theoretical studies in the philosophy books she loves.

“Did I get it confused?”

“I don’t know,” you reply honestly. Then, feeling like a horrible confidant, you continue, “I’m sorry.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “You don’t need to apologise. I just—I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel.”

“There isn’t a proper feeling you need to feel,” you say. “How do you feel?”

Haerin blinks, taking in the weight of your words as you return her gaze. The silence is suffocating, maybe only for you. You never did well in extended periods of silence because your thoughts ran wild. It allowed things to happen even if they didn’t, and your rationality to turn into irrationality. Silence was dangerous for people like you, while it allowed people like Haerin to bloom.

“I broke up with him.”

This makes you still.

“You must think your older sister is crazy, right?” she laughs, falling back into the couch as you stutter in your movements to take in her expression. Her eyes gaze up to the ceiling as she sighs. “I come to your apartment at midnight in tears about my breakup and I was the one that initiated it?”

You find your tongue after a while, shaking your head before you’re shifting closer. “No, I mean … I’m confused but your feelings are still valid. It takes a lot of courage to walk away.”

You mean it. You really do. You know that better than anyone else, yet you never found yourself practising that knowledge.

You were the coward for staying to hurt yourself because of familiarity.

She scoffs. “It sure doesn’t feel that way.”

“Can I …” you swallow, “Can I ask why—?”

“I’m a coward,” she tells you so vehemently that you nearly get whiplash. “I’m a coward, ____. I’m a coward because I walked into something fully knowing it wasn’t my place to arrive at.”

“Haerin, hold on,” you say with furrowed brows, “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to know why we broke up?” she asks softly.

“I-I mean only if you’re ready—”

“Imagine being with someone you’ve known for most of your life, thinking that he should’ve been the one only to realise that perfect utopia was an imagination crafted by your own delusions,” she says quietly.

Your breath hitches.

“Imagine being so scared of being alone that you jumped into a relationship with someone who’s familiar to you. Just because it seemed right.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond because Haerin sounds so—tired. Her words ring louder despite her tone being soft, and you can’t draw your eyes away from her. She looks so different like this, and you wonder if she’s ever allowed herself to be vulnerable—to be a step lower than perfection.

“You know he’d never hold my hand?” Haerin says.

You blink.

“What?”

Like thunder, your memory cracks back to the day at the fair. The words you heard leave Haerin’s mouth in a manner that was unlike her at all. Similar to the woman in front of you, she was frustrated, borderline frantic, but she was Haerin. The Haerin that always had her head up high, back straight and face preened to perfection.

“I thought it was just because the transition must’ve been awkward and all,” she chuckles humourlessly. “Going from a best friend to a lover. It’s weird, I get that.”

Your heart unconsciously clenches at what she referred to him as, but you purse your lips and tell yourself to not be selfish—that this wasn’t about you.

“But he’d never touch me,” she whispers, “He’d never look at me differently. Just the same way he always has.”

“That’s because he’s always loved you—” you begin to say, spewing the truth that you’ve told yourself to be true from the very first day you saw him in your home.

“—Does he?” she spits, as your eyes widen, “Do you stiffen up when the person you love tries to hold your hand? Tries to hug you?”

“Haerin …” you say slowly.

“No,” she snaps, and you see her slowly losing it. She laughs, nearly tugging at her hair as you flounder in an attempt to reason with her. “You don’t do that if you love someone, ____. You know what you do?”

“I …” you choke.

“You drive at godspeed to a place even if it’s ass o’clock to make sure that they’re safe,” she says, and you freeze. Your body locks up and you can’t say anything. You’re stunned to absolute silence but Haerin isn’t. “You buy them their favourite treats because you were thinking of them.”

You don’t know why, but your throat is dry, and Haerin looks—menacing. Her eyes are wide and frantic, and you unconsciously lean back into your sofa when she inches forward.

“You look at them like they’re the only thing you ever see,” she whispers harshly, and her forehead drops to your shoulder as you exhale shakily, her fingers are digging almost painfully into your bicep while you hold your breath. “You do all of that when you’re in love with someone.”

“H-Haerin, you need—”

“I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away,” she croaks, and there are tears in her eyes. You hear the shatter of her heart instead of seeing it. “Do you push the person you love away, ____?”

Unintentionally, you think.

“I-I—”

“And the worst part,” she says vehemently, “Is that I don’t even love him.”

Your chest constricts, and the atmosphere is heavy. Haerin is breathing heavily, chest heaving as you can only stare at her. Your mind is running at a hundred miles per hour, endlessly trying to make sense of her words—to understand why they felt so familiar and to understand why you were so intent on denying them to her face.

There was something about her confession that makes you breathless. Dizzy. She didn’t love him. She broke up with him. Why? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense—they were supposed to stay together. They were supposed to be endgame. He chose her. So why—?

“Yoongi and I were never meant to be together,” she says, laughing softly. “I’m not heartbroken,” she tells you. “I’m hurt.”

You have nothing to say, too stunned to silence.

“I’m hurt because I thought I needed to be with someone to fill this loneliness in my heart.” You hear her cry, loud and unobstructed when she basically falls into your arms. Haerin doesn’t keep her facade up, and the tears keep flowing like her dam was broken.

You don’t know why but tears well up in your eyes too, and you try to blink them away mostly in confusion but the first tear falls and you wonder how long has it been.

How long has it been since Haerin felt this way?

Since you’ve resented her for doing everything right when it seemed like she was falling apart right in front of your very eyes?

Haerin sobs uncontrollably, blubbers nonsense into your shirt while holding onto you like a child. She’s vulnerable and feral right now, uncaring of whether or not her sobs are louder than the clamour in your chest—or the thoughts that run through your mind. No, she’s uninhibited when she clings onto you like she never wants you to let go.

You won’t. Despite the hole in your chest that’s aching for answers, you don’t push Haerin away.

Because this is the first time she’s felt like a sister.

“I’m so lonely,” she whispers, “I thought—I thought being with Yoongi would fix me …”

“You don’t need to be fixed, Haerin,” you tell her honestly through your own shaky voice.

“Yoongi’s my best friend, ____,” she whimpers, “H-How could I do this to him? Be so selfish?”

“People make mistakes and that’s okay,” you say softly, wiping under her eyes to remove the flow of tears that escapes. “Yoongi would never hold this against you.”

“B-But I got in the way of what makes him happy,” she wails, clutching you harder.

“You didn’t—” you attempt to say, but she shakes her head frantically, eyes darting up so that you’d look at her desperate gaze. As if to tell you that you didn’t know what she was saying—what you were implying with the words that were better left unsaid.

“It’s because I see the way he loves and I wished it was me,” she croaks, “Not because I love him but because I’m selfish.”

“It’s not selfish to want to be loved,” you whisper.

“But it’s selfish to want that for me when it was never mine, to begin with,” she whimpers.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t understand the implications of Haerin’s words, and you think she’s blubbering nonsense in her hazy state. For a moment, you pity her. The weight of the world expecting her to be perfect all the time finally crumbling down her facade—and you wonder if the two of you shared more in common than you thought.

“You’re human, Haerin. You make mistakes, you may end up hurting people, and that’s okay. You can’t control the aftershocks of your actions,” you say softly. “No one’s going to hold being human against you. You’re going to do things right and you’re going to do things wrong. But never blame yourself for wanting to make yourself happy.”

“You know,” she suddenly chokes, “I really wanted to be close with you.”

Your heart seizes.

“I really wanted to be your older sister,” she confesses and you feel your eyes well up with tears. “I wanted to be someone you could confide in, to talk to whenever you were stressed. I wanted us to have sister fights and make up in twenty seconds. I always thought you were amazing. Just being who you were—I wanted to be your sister so badly.”

“Haerin …”

“But I was so caught up in the world that mom and dad threw me in that …” she sniffs, “That I prioritised myself and neglected you.”

“Haerin—”

“—I let mom and dad treat you the way they do even if I knew you didn’t deserve that,” she rambles on, unfiltered and loose-lipped. “I let them celebrate me when you were all alone.”

Your lips wobble as you tilt your head up to stop your tears.

“I had the world and you only had yourself.”

“I had Jungkook,” you say weakly through a smile. It was the truth. Things were tough—but you weren’t really alone, were you? “And Hobi. And Loli,” you tell her before cupping her cheek. “But now I have you too, right?”

Her lips wobble as her face crumbles.

“You have me,” she whispers, “And you have Yoongi, too.”

You smile sadly. “Yeah.”

“I mean it,” she exclaims, eyes wide, begging you to believe her with her body language. “You and Yoongi—you have each other.”

Do you? Have him? It seems like things were settling, and a selfish—human—part of you is relieved that Haerin and Yoongi were no longer together. Even if she claimed that they were never together in that way.

But if he chose her even for those moments, who were you in the grand scheme of things?

“I know,” you say, and it’s a ruse to convince yourself too.

“I’m serious,” she says manically, sitting up so abruptly that you fall back onto your elbows. Your eyes remain wide but your heart is beating rapidly against your chest. Her face is exasperated. Desperate. As if there were words too heavy that lay on her tongue, ready to propel forward like ripples of water. “You—he—you know? Right? You must know!”

“You should—”

“Yoongi doesn’t love me,” she whimpers, and you feel the sadness in her voice. Though it’s not quite heartbreak, it’s very close. It’s the sound of a lonely woman trying to navigate the world that thinks the best of her. A lonely woman on a path crafted by others while others watched. “He loves—“

“He loves you, Haerin,” you say quietly, squeezing her hands. “He loves you. Can’t you see?”

You don’t know who you’re trying to convince. Her, or yourself—even if your heart crumbles at the very thought of Yoongi being so in love with her.

“He doesn’t! Not in that way!” she roars, pushing you back as your eyes blow even wider. She’s practically on top of you, pinning you down with her tiny hands while you grab her forearms in alarm.

“Haerin—!”

“He doesn’t love me! He doesn’t,” she hisses, shaking her head, “He—”

“Haerin, stop,” you say shakily, “You don’t know what you’re saying—”

“I’ve been expected to know a lot of things in life, ____ and I never actually did. But this is something I know with my entire heart and soul,” she chuckles humourlessly.

When her eyes drop to your own, her grip loosening before she practically falls on you as if she lost the fight to keep her upright, metaphorically and literally.

Her mouth opens, and her next words make your ears ring.

“He doesn’t love me because he loves you.”

There’s silence. It’s raining now. A thunderstorm in the middle of the night and you almost want to laugh at how perfect the timing was. The lighting of your living room is dim, with the shadow of Haerin’s fatigue apparent on her face when her eyes blaze towards you. She’s breathing heavily, panting with exertion as if she ran a marathon.

But it’s deathly silent on your head. There’s no breathing. There’s no movement. There’s nothing to indicate that you’ve heard what she said. But when you register her words, and the magnitude of them—

You shove her off you, her body falling onto the plush surface next to the both of you.

“Don’t lie!” you shout, “Fuck you, Haerin!”

“Why would I lie to you!” she exasperates desperately, trying to grab your hand when you pull away from her, mind reeling at the remnants of her words.

“Why would he—why would you—? He—” you stammer, eyes rapidly blinking when you feel the tears win the flightless game as it runs down your face.

“Yoongi loves you,” she whispers vehemently, her swollen eyes glaring at you when she manages to pin you down again.

It’s almost comical. How the two of you were in tears, tired, in your apartment, fighting each other in a way that’s never happened before. Interacting with each other in a way that you could only hypothesise. You’ve never gotten mad at Haerin, and neither has she. It was because while the two of you shared the same blood, you were distant throughout your entire life.

This—your panting breaths, manic eyes, and desperation—was the closest you’ve ever been.

“He chose you!” you scream, “How could he love me when he chose you? He always chose you! He never chose—!”

“Then you’re stupid!” she screams back, equally as loud. You wonder if your neighbours were going to report you to management for a noise complaint but you couldn’t care less. “You’re stupid and you’re dumb and I hate you! I hate you because you can’t see anything that’s in front of you!”

You gasp.

“I hate you because you have everything I’ve ever wanted and you don’t see it! You don’t see how much I want to live like you! To be close to you! Why can’t you see?” she cries.

You shove at her, her eyes widening before you’re clambering on top of her with your hands on her shoulders as you use all the force you have to keep her in place.

“I’m stupid? You’re stupid!” you seethe, “You’re stupid because you have everything you could ever want and mom and dad’s validation and you think Yoongi doesn’t love you? You think I’ve got everything you want? Try being me and see how fucking shitty it is.”

“You think that matters to me? You think any of that matters to me when I’m so fucking lonely?” she sobs, trying to fight your grasp off. “You’re so fucking dumb! Yoongi never chose me! Never! If you looked close enough then you’d see!”

“See? All I saw was how he treated you,” you hiss venomously, “How he looked at you like you were his world—that he would do anything for you—!”

“Shut the fuck up!” she screeches, whining in frustration while she thrashes in your hold. “Yoongi’s so in love with you and you refuse to see it. You did this! You did this!”

“Did what?” you scream.

“This!” she wails, and you don’t even fucking know what was going on anymore when she finally kicks you off of her, as your butt lands on the floor.

She’s towering over you now. Her cheeks are blotchy and red, and so are yours. You didn’t realise how hard you were crying until the brief silence forces you to acknowledge it. To acknowledge the way your heart feels both heavy and lighter at the same time. The way Haerin is catching her breath. The way you balance yourself on your elbows.

The way how fucking stupid this all is.

“I know you love him, too,” she says softly, after too long of a silence.

Your breath hitches as your eyes dart to the ceiling.

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“He loves you and you love him,” she hisses, “You’re so stupid.”

“He doesn’t love me, Haerin,” you seethe, tired when your eyes flutter shut. “If he did then he would’ve chosen me.”

“He chooses you. Every single day,” she sobs, “When you were stuck at that bar. When you were sick at the fair. When you needed someone to teach you how to drive. When you just wanted to hang out. When you call. If it’s you—he’ll always make that choice. Why do you refuse to see what’s right in front of you?”

“Then why did he …” you whisper.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Haerin sobs, and she falls. She falls on top of you with her arms wrapped around your shoulder as you fall back to the ground, allowing her body to crush you. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

“Stop fucking apologising,” you grit.

“I never should’ve brought it up—I never should’ve asked him if we should give it a shot. I should’ve never—”

“And what good will that do to us now?” you snap, “Huh? Tell me. Tell me what fucking good will apologising to do us now?”

“I don’t know!” she wails. Her eyes are so fucking swollen that it’s almost painful to look at. There’s not running down her nose and she’s unobstructed when she attempts to blubber her next set of words. “I don’t know anything anymore except for the fact that I’m so fucking lonely and I’m so fucking confused and nothing about this makes sense—”

“Nothing about this makes sense,” you repeat, eyes blinking slowly.

“Yoongi loves you,” she says defeatedly.

And somehow that makes you feel worst. Because he loves you and chose her. He loved you not enough to pick you, to try, but to want to forget. To remove the feeling of love he allegedly has for whatever fucking reason.

And it hurts. It burns. It consumes you whole.

You feel like your heart is about to give out. There’s nothing stopping you from curling into a fetal position and crying until the week ends but the fact that your sister is sobbing her eyes out in front of you. You don’t understand. You didn’t expect the night to end this way.

You didn’t expect anything.

Yoongi still chose Haerin.

He never chose you.

“Please,” she croaks, forcing her swollen eyes to peer up at you while you feel everything in you crumble. All the moments you tried to pretend that seeing Haerin and Yoongi together didn’t crush you. As friends and as more. The moments that you had to hear your parents coo over something Haerin did while silence overtook you. It all came rushing back in. And it hurts. You’re no longer numb. Now all you could do was feel and it fucking sucked.

“You don’t do this to someone you love, Haerin,” you say shakily.

She grabs your shoulders desperately, expression falling into one of anguish.

“I know he loves you. I know,” she cries, “He—it’s my fault—it’s all my fault—”

“Stop blaming yourself,” you rasp.

“You love each other,” Haerin sobs. And you really wished you could tell her to shut the fuck up. Not because you hated her. You don’t think you ever did. You don’t think you ever could. But it was hard to think. It was hard to breathe.

You don’t do this to someone you love.

You don’t want to say anything but you see her eyes droop, indicating her fatigue.

“You and Yoongi,” she mumbles, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You sigh, coming back to reality.

“Get up,” you snap.

She remains put.

“Haerin,” you scowl, “Get the fuck up.”

“No,” she huffs, “Not until you believe me.”

Your eyebrows tick in annoyance. “It’s late and I’m exhausted and everything fucking sucks right now so please—for the love of God just get up and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” she whines.

That was it.

“Because he doesn’t love me, Haerin!” you scream, yanking her up until she was eye-level with you as her eyes widened. “Because it doesn’t make any fucking sense! Because Yoongi can never love me! Because he’s meant to be with you! Because mom and dad think so too! Because of this—this fucked up situation that we’re in and how this is the only time I’ve ever felt close enough to tell you this!”

Haerin sobs, crumbling in your hold even as she tries to keep herself upright. You’re crying now, too. Loud, unobstructed. Ugly.

Maybe you were really sisters.

“You’re lonely and I get that,” you whisper. “But you don’t know how it feels like to be me. To be the other sister. The other person. To have to fight for every place in my life because there wasn’t enough space for the two of us. You don’t fucking know any of that. You want to be me? God—I wish you could. I wish you’d try living in this body and this life to see things the way I do. Then you’d know—know how fucking shitty it is being the other.”

Haerin stays silent because she can’t say anything. You don’t expect her to. You wouldn’t know what to say either. You were word-vomiting; the words that have been locked and compartmentalised in a part of your brain you never thought you’d unlock in front of anyone—especially Haerin.

"You have no idea what it's like to fight for my place in mom and dad's life when I shouldn't have to. You have no fucking idea how it feels like to never be able to amount to anything—just because my older sister is a damn prodigy. You have no idea. So yes. You're lonely—that's sad. But you never had to wonder why the fuck you weren't enough to be loved by your own damned parents."

"Mom and dad are assholes," she says weakly.

"But they're my parents," you hiss as your eyes flutter shut. "They're assholes but I want them to fucking see me. I just want to be fucking seen and—and this—all of this—doesn't make any sense. You being here. You breaking up with him. You claiming he doesn't love you. All of it! Nothing—”

“You’re free,” she interrupts you in a tiny voice. “You want validation but you’re free from it. You don’t need validation.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck I need or don’t,” you hiss.

“And don’t tell me that you’d rather be controlled for the rest of your life!” she roars loudly, the tiny voice reaching decibels that shook your core. “That you don’t love this freedom—as fucking shitty as it is—more than the reigns that mom and dad would have on you.”

“You think I’m free?” you laugh bitterly, “You think this is freedom? Being trapped in my own thoughts? Unconsciously comparing myself to you every single fucking day of my life because that’s all I’ve been conditioned to do? You think freedom matters when I’ve lost to you in every single aspect?”

“This isn’t a competition!” You hear Haerin exasperate, tugging at her hair in frustration when her eyes blaze at you. “Why—no one wants you to compare yourself to me!”

“No one wants to but they do,” you sneer venomously, “Oh they fucking do Haerin. And I do too. And it sucks. Because when I’m safe from them I’m not safe from me.”

“You—I …”

“This shouldn’t be a competition but it is,” you say despairingly, “I hate that it is but it is. And as fucked up as it sounds you and I both know that you and I were destined to compete with each other because we’re sisters.”

“You think I’ve won this shitty competition but I feel like the biggest fucking loser,” she laughs in a self-deprecating tone, “Mom and dad only love me because of what I’ve done. Not because—not because they do.”

“At least they love you, Haerin,” you say quietly, “At least you’re loved. By them. By people—by Yoongi—”

“When will you get it through your fucking head that Yoongi doesn’t love me? Not in that way!” Haerin snaps, “We’ve been best friends for years and you think I don’t know how he looks like when he’s in love or not?”

You take a deep, shaky breath to regain balance before you're letting out an exhale.

“Yoongi doesn’t love me. He can’t. I’m—” you choke, eyes fluttering shut in defeat. “I’m unloveable—”

“Don’t you dare say that,” she hisses venomously, cupping your cheeks in her hand as you flounder back as you lose your balance. “Don’t you fucking say that.”

“You’ve always been loved!” you sob, tears soaking her fingers as she tries her best to not let new tears flow.

“And that doesn’t fucking matter but don’t you for a second think that you’re unloveable,” she snaps, “You’re not unloveable. No one is unloveable in this damned world and if there was someone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be you.”

“Stop fucking—!”

“I love you!” she screams, “I love you! I love you as your sister! As your friend! As your family!”

“You don’t fucking love me!” you scream back at her, and you’re sure your neighbours were wondering what the fuck was going on.

“Just fucking believe me! Please,” she begs, shaking you desperately as you shake your head in return. “I love you!”

“You can’t love me!” you cry, and it’s so fucking loud. It’s loud and annoying. And it still hurts. It hurts so fucking much that all you can do is cry. "Yoongi can't love me!"

“I can and I will and I do,” she whispers, “I know I’ve been a shitty sister but I’ve never not loved you."

She's forcing herself to look at you and you're forcing yourself to try. Your breathing mixes together, shaky, confused, tired.

"And Yoongi loves you no matter how much you want to deny it because no one does the things he does for you if they weren't in love."

You cry. You break down. You were crying but now you’re crying harder. There was no flow or structure to the screaming fest you just had. But did pain ever have a linear sequence? It didn’t make sense to have your sorrows be chronological.

This was pain. Years of hurt. It’s ugly and truthful, and it does not hide from the strongest. In fact, it comes at you full force. Knocking the wind out of you while you try to catch your breath in a race you were bound to lose.

Haerin holds you. You don’t know when she’s wrapped her arms around you but they’re suddenly there. The both of you are sobbing like little bitches and it’s kind of funny. But you can’t think of the finer details when she squeezes you so tightly that you can’t breathe.

Is this what having a sister feels like?

The calm after the storm is an illusion. You know this. But you’ll take it, for now.

“It’s not Yoongi’s fault,” Haerin says softly.

Your eyes are shut.

“I know.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

You clench your teeth.

“I know.”

“It’s my—”

“And it’s not your fault either,” you interject softly.

Haerin opens her mouth to say something but closes it when she realises you didn’t have the strength to continue.

“We’re fucked up humans aren’t we?” she chuckles humourlessly.

“Isn’t that just being human?”

You look up, and you’re so tired.

Haerin blinks. A smile twitches on your face for some fucked up reason.

And the both of you laugh. You laugh so hard that you’re crying again. You’re cackling, and you hear a series of bangs against your wall that you laugh even harder. You somehow ended up on the floor, staring at the ceiling while you laughed like maniacs at nothing and everything and the in-between.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Me too,” you reply. “For screaming at you.”

“I’m sorry for calling you stupid.”

“Me too.”

“Did we just have our first sister fight?”

You purse your lips. You turn around to see her sitting up, your night light dimly illuminating her face.

“I guess we did,” you say.

"I wished it was about something different," she says quietly.

You pause.

"Like boys?"

She looks up and there's a tilted smile on her face. Her eyes are hilariously swollen that you can't help but let out a snort through your blocked nose. Haerin almost rolls her eyes, but instead, she reaches out—she holds your hand.

And you hold hers.

“Please talk to him."

You stay silent.

“____,” she calls your name gently. Like she cares about you. It’s a tone you’d adopt with a child, a younger sibling when you were a child. It almost feels as if she was trying to speak to you as an older sister, and not just Haerin. “I don’t want you and Yoongi to be on weird terms.”

“We’re not,” you say quietly.

“But you’re thinking. Hard. And not in the good way,” she points out as you sigh, “Don’t blame him.”

Did you? Blame Yoongi? Or did you blame yourself for being this way? For feeling the way you did?

Even if Yoongi seemed like the perfect person to hate, to blame, to back into a corner and scream at him like you did to Haerin—you knew that wasn’t the truth.

Yoongi had always been himself. And despite his fleeting relationship with your sister, he’d never treated you differently. He’d been there for you in moments of true weakness.

It was you who pushed him away from him all this while.

Did you do this to someone you loved?

“I don’t.”

“Talk to him,” she encourages again, gentler. “He loves you, ____. He’d never push you away.”

Your throat hurts but you still want to scream.

He loves me but not enough to try? To ask? To hope?

"And ..." she says slowly, as if contemplating her words. "I'd never push you away. Anymore. Never. Not again."

"Okay," you say quietly.

"And you can talk to me. Because—because we're sisters, right? We're sisters aren't we?"

For the first time, in a long time, from when you knew what sisters were and were meant to be—you can agree.

"Yeah," you laugh quietly, "We are, Haerin. We are sisters."

She gives you a gentle smile, and it returns to relative silence. There are still so many things to say even after all that you've screamed. But you guess that's always going to be the case. Not everything will always be said, and that's okay. You'll grow, you'll have more things to say, to be hurt about, to be annoyed about, to laugh about—and that's only natural.

"Talk to him, ____," Haerin says through a soft mumble. "The two of you deserve to be happy."

You purse your lips.

“If you can’t believe me,” she murmurs. Then she looks up, and it’s the most earnest you’ve seen her all night when she says:

“At least believe him.”

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi series #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts fluff #bts yoongi #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts series #bts drabble #min yoongi fic #min yoongi smut #slow burn #drabble series #back-burner

1K notes · View notes