Min Yoongi Is The Best Shot In The Business. Youre The Best Gunsmith In The City And The Only Person

min yoongi is the best shot in the business. you’re the best gunsmith in the city and the only person he trusts to programme his tech; to make his gear. 

he likes your work. it’s a shame, then, that he doesn’t like you.

pairing: yoongi x f!reader / word count: 14.3k / genre + rating: NSFW (18+), cyberpunk!au, smut, frenemies (?) to lovers

warnings/etc: hitman!yoongi. black market dealer/gunsmith!reader. cursing/explicit language. whole lotta tension, sexual and otherwise. mentions of injury/violence. minor character death (no one important, don’t worry, this isn’t an angst fic). brief hurt/comfort. reader has tattoos. sexually explicit content. oral; fingering; multiple orgasms; overstimulation (f). unprotected sex (please take the necessary precautions irl). rough sex?. choking. creampie. brief mention of aftercare. I think that’s everything but please lmk if I missed any!

a/n: thank you SO MUCH to both @hobi-gif​ and @morndas​ for beta reading this and being so supportive, ily both so much and I owe you my life 🤧💕 as always what was meant to be a short fic turned into a huge one. also this is technically for my 1.1k milestone but it’s a billion years late, oops!​

Yoongi really doesn’t like you.

You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You needle him all the time, dig your fingernails in and squeeze, revelling in the way he sets his jaw, the muted spark of irritation in his eyes. You bat your eyelashes and tilt your head, throw it back whenever you laugh and reveal the easing column of your throat, dragging each interaction out with a kind of sadistic pleasure that has him gritting his teeth. Because you love annoying him, getting under his skin, tapping your fingers against the soft swell of your bottom lip as you eye him up, taking your time before you speak.

Infuriating. You’re infuriating and you know it.

It’s unfortunate, really, because you’re unavoidable. 

Jungkook had asked, once, why Yoongi doesn’t just go elsewhere. They’re more than familiar with the underbelly of this heaving city, underneath all the neon lights and shimmering holograms and towering skyscrapers and legal tech; the scuttling seams of back alley traders and illegal goods, tech or otherwise. There are plenty of black market dealers, after all, plenty of other vendors he could go to to get the equipment he wants. Plenty of other skilled crafters, artificers, artisans, people who would be more than happy to create the things that Yoongi asks for, that he needs. People who can get their hands on anything you want. For a price.

Yoongi’s answer had been short and succinct.

“She’s the best there is,” he’d said, and that had been that.

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the raindrop prelude

↳ pianist au

◇ pairing: yoongi | reader ◇ genre: angst and fluff ◇ word count: 14.859 ◇ warnings: implied smut, mentions of alcohol ◇ author’s note: this is a revamped version of a story I wrote ages ago, which some of you might have read already (was simply titled raindrop back in the day). the plot remains the same, only the writing was heavily tweaked, almost entirely rewritten. If you did not read it before, I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Since music is a very important part of this story, I suggest playing the songs on this playlist whenever they’re mentioned. :)

You feel exhilarated.

You would never be able to describe such feeling properly, and you are sure other musicians would agree. Being up there, hands surfing above the keys while the music floats seamlessly, turns your body weightless and takes your mind away from it, faraway from the dullness of reality. It drifts and glides away smoothly, silently, towards a remote place where you can finally shine.

Your senses are still heightened and your heart is still pumping vigorously as you leave the stage, fingers starting to tremble. They feel numb and sore after torturing them for almost ten minutes, and the pleasing sound of applauses still rings in your ears as you trudge in the direction of the bathroom.

You did it. Be proud. The cutting words are deafening in your head, mixing with the echo of the melody your hands conjured up only a few minutes ago. That voice, both sharp and unrecognizable, faintly resembles that of your best friend, your colleagues and your teachers, but you are unable to believe them. You just can’t.

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Moonlit Throne | Masterlist

“do you… trust me?” it’s a low whisper, soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never wavered. 

“yes.”

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff parts posted: 45/45 words: 68k contains: drabble series, historical au, royal au, romance, drama, the very definition of “it’s complicated,” inspired by daechwita. a/n: please pay attention to the dates, but read in the order that the drabbles are listed, not in chronological!

historical context/references. | fic playlist.

february 1869 {m} - your king takes care of you and his business, no matter who is watching.

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Scratched Disc | One Shot | myg (m)

*This one shot is a part of the Mixtape mini-series that I did. This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but it might be a teeny more rewarding to read Mixtape first.

♦ Summary: Yoongi comes to visit for the first time since you started dating. The trip does not start off as planned.

♦ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

♦ Genre: Older brothers best friend, established relationship, fluff, smut

♦ Word Count: 3,907

♦ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

♦ Content Warnings: Explicit language, some frustration because everything keeps going wrong, explicit sexual content include oral (f. receiving) fingering (f. receiving), light dirty talk if you really squint, implications of sex, implications of m. oral and implications of cum eating

♦ Type: One Shot

♦  Series Masterlist: here

♦ Main Masterlist: here

| faq | story playlist |

SHOUT OUT TO @here2bbtstrash FOR BETA READING THIS AND MAKING SURE READER HAD ON SWEATPANTS, NOT SWEAT PANTS AND MAKING SURE READER WASN'T BLINKY. This work would be riddled with mistakes and absolute chaos grammar without you I love you.

A/N: The promised Mixtape drabble that turned into a little over 3k words because I am a simp for this couple in the worst way. Just a little slice of life, a little frustration, but perfect Min Yoongi.

Pressing the phone to the shell of your ear, you turn to look apologetically over the iron fence that makes up the outdoor portion of your favorite lunch spot. Yoongi feels you look at him, looking up at you with keen, dark eyes. You grimace and mouth sorry at him, motioning that you only need five more minutes. He gives you a soft smile and waves off your fears.

Yoongi has only been in town for thirty minutes and work has interrupted his time with you. He’s only scheduled to be in your city for four days, and you want to make the most out of it. But a setback in the programming department means marketing department setbacks, and you’re trying to manage from your phone as your coworkers discuss the new timeline, adjusting deliverables, and explaining the message to deliver to the media and fans who have been waiting for new announcements of the battle pass and upcoming gaming acts.

The call goes on for more than five minutes. It rolls into fifteen, and by the time you’re shoving the device in your pocket and nearly sprinting back to your boyfriend, you know without a doubt that the flatbread you ordered is cold and the ice in your lemonade is melted.

“Putting out fires?” Yoongi hasn’t touched his sandwich and you groan at his manners. It looks distinctly soggier than when you took the phone call. “Look at my sweet girl, all business like.”

“Eat your sandwich,” you growl at him, ripping into your flatbread. “You should have started without me.”

“Not a big deal.”

“Sorry, I promise I will keep the work calls to a minimum the rest of the weekend.”

“It’s not a big deal, kid. Work is work, I get it. Take all the calls you need.”

You smile at him, happy that he’s understanding but also determined not to let work ruin your weekend.

It’s only the second time that Yoongi has visited since you officially started dating. You don’t entirely count the first time Seokjin flew him out to apologize and make good with you, so really it feels like the first.

There are so many things you want to do. You want to take him to your favorite record store downtown. You want to take him to the gelato place by the lake. You want to take him every morning to the coffee shop tucked between work and the apartment, knowing he’ll love it. You definitely want to take him to the cat café.

You examine Yoongi as he eats his sandwich, talking about Namjoon’s EP he’s helping produce around bites of food. His hair is black still, longer than it had been at his release party and curling at the nape of his neck. You’re immediately distracted, wanting to run your hands through it and scratch his scalp a little the way he likes.

Today, he’s dressed in light wash jeans with rips at the knees and a white t-shirt tucked in, and a crème button-up left open. His eyes are a little tired, but they crinkle when he smiles up at you, stealing a piece of flat bread off your plate despite you slapping after his hand.

Having him like this is nice. You can’t help but smile, biting your bottom lip as you try to hide it, stomach flipping as he nudges you with his shoe, leaning back and stretching in his chair like a cat.

“Hmm?” he asks, eyes on you. “What’s so funny.”

“I’m just happy you’re here.”

His smile is a burst of sun. “Me too. Want to drop my stuff off at the apartment before we go to that record store?”

It makes you blush that he remembers. It makes you blush harder when he pays the check, refusing your money and wrapping an arm tightly around you as you walk back to the car. The fact that he can blatantly display affection like this feels good. Tingly.

Jungkook is gone for the weekend, door closed. Yoongi follows you to your room, setting his suitcase on the ground by your closet before turning to you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you lean back on your palms, looking him up and down.

Yoongi watches you like a cat. He makes no move toward you, letting you drink him in again. You part your legs slightly on the bed, an invitation. He moves toward you immediately. No words are required between the two of you. They never were, and as he proves that again, you cannot help but feel hopelessly and ridiculously in love with him.

Love.

The word is still new. You can remember the way he said it, casually in the middle of sex as though he hadn’t re-written your entire existence in that single breath.

Yoongi settles between your legs and you squeeze him with your knees, looking up at him wide-eyed and a little slack jawed. His hands run up your arms, fingers rough. He settles his hands on the back of your neck, twisting his fingers gently in your hair and tugging you a little closer.

“Hi,” you breathe, lids fluttering. Your scalp tingles where he holds you and his eyes are dark.

“Hi,” he murmurs back. Yoongi’s smile is brief as he dips down to kiss you. Your eyes flutter shut, leaning up to him – his phone blares in his back pocket, making you flinch. Yoongi grunts, removing one hand from you as he fishes out his phone to look at it. You watch as irritation flashes across his face. “I have to take this.”

“Okay.”

He kisses your forehead once. “Five minutes.”

Laying on your bed, you stare at your ceiling with a silly smile, heart pounding a little. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve touched Yoongi, how many times you’ve kissed him. You feel like you’re making up for lost time, trying to squeeze in the next moment, the next memory.

Yoongi’s soft timbre rises and falls from just outside your door. You can tell he’s talking to Namjoon. You close your eyes and listen to him, not really understanding the words he’s saying but happy to be hearing his voice through your door instead of the phone.

Five minutes turns to ten.

When ten minutes turns to fifteen, Yoongi comes back into your room with a look on his face. You give him a smile to tell him it’s alright and you pat the bed next to you. He lays down next to you on his back, letting one arm lay across the mattress for you to snuggle into him.

You breathe him in. Sandalwood and lemon. Your favorite smell in the world. Laying your head on his chest, you can hear his voice vibrate through him. You close your eyes, letting his heartbeat and voice lull you to silence.

From what it sounds like, Namjoon has accidentally deleted sound files. Yoongi is panicked – he sounds calm, but you can hear the way his words pick up speed and he keeps pausing longer than usual when Namjoon asks a question.

Somehow, you drift to sleep. It isn’t until Yoongi is hanging up the phone and cursing that you blink groggily, looking up at him with your cheek smushed against his chest. He glances down at you and you can’t help but giggle.

“You have a double chin from this angle,” you yawn.

“Yeah, well you have pancake face from this angle.”

“Hmm.”

“Namjoon deleted the main file for the title track.”

“Holy fuck.” He hums, staring at the ceiling. His fingers play with your hair. “What are you going to do?”

“I need to help him re-make it tonight. I can do it from here – I have enough with me but…”

You smile at him and pat his stomach. “It’s okay, I like watching you work. We have three more days and I bet you’re tired anyway. Records can wait.” He gives you a look. “What?”

“Love you.”

You beam. “Love you too. And seriously – it’s okay, Yoongi. We have three more days.”

-

Day two goes just as badly. Not only is Yoongi exhausted from flying in and spending the entire afternoon and night at your apartment working, but there’s another emergency at work that requires you to get on a zoom call with the directors of the company to discuss how the timeline of the project delays ended up getting leaked.

You’re hardly paying attention in the meeting, scribbling notes to send to your team. Email marketing messaging, questions for the PR department, social media creatives with messaging – it’s all on your notepad scrawled in messy handwriting.

Yoongi doesn’t complain. He brings you a cup of coffee and kisses the top of your head, banishing himself into Jungkook’s room to tinker with his set up. Jungkook had specifically said multiple times that Yoongi could game while he was there, though no one thought he would need to.

Your meeting burns two hours of your day.

Taking out the headphones and pushing away from your desk, you travel to the living room and stop to look out the window. Rain comes down in sheets, lighting blinding you for a brief moment before thunder shakes the floors of the apartment. You hadn’t realized it was storming at all.

Sticking your head into Jungkook’s room, you find Yoongi at the computer. The screen casts a ghostly glow on his skin. For a moment, you lean against the door and admire him. His eyes are focused, tongue tucked gently between his lips as he clicks around.

You can see over the chair that he’s playing League of Legends.

Another roll of thunder makes you sigh.

This weekend feels off. You’re beyond happy that you and Yoongi are together. It’s been a couple of weeks and though FaceTime is an excellent invention, you miss him in small doses, mostly when you’re reminded of him.

Like when you’re driving in the car and someone cuts you off. You know he hates it, and it makes you smile knowing that he would have been fighting the urge to roll up next to them and flip them off.

Or like when someone doesn’t take out their used k-cup in the break room at work, something so lazy and easy to do that Yoongi would have left a strongly worded note on the machine that surely would make anyone feel self-conscious about committing the sin again.

And now that he’s here, nothing is going the way that you want it to. You thought today would be a good day to go to the cat café, but now that it’s afternoon it’s closed. And with the pouring rain outside, getting to the record shop is going to be a pain. It happens to be situated in the part of downtown where the storm drains don’t work well and the streets flood.

Your hands are soft on his shoulders as you reach over the chair. He looks up at you, headphones tilted on his head slightly. He gives you a gummy grin, turning to kiss your arm before focusing back on the game.

“How’s it going?”

“Eh.” You knead his muscles and he lets out an appreciative hum. “How’s your game?”

“I’m fucking terrible. I used Jungkook’s account not realizing that without Ren here he gets no pussy and spends all his time gaming.”

“These are facts.” You watch as Yoongi fails epically defending the bottom lane. “It’s absolutely pouring rain outside. We can still try to go to the record store if it lets up a little. We may need to order lunch though – god it’s already after two.”

“It’s okay, kid. Do you have ingredients for grilled cheese?”

Grilled cheese with a sprinkle of Old Bay seasoning is exactly what you end up having for lunch. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you bite into your sandwich. It’s obnoxiously good – Yoongi has always had a way of making the simple feel luxurious.

He’s always been like that, you think. Yoongi is able to elevate everything he does: music, style, conversation, presentation. It was one of the reasons that you always thought he was so effortlessly cool growing up. There is something to be said about the way he improves everything he touches.

Yoongi flips his grilled cheese in the pan.

“You know the story of Midas?”

“Like the car company?”

“No! Like the Greek mythology story. He asked the god Dionysus to give him the ability to turn everything to gold with his touch. You’re like a modern-day Midas.”

“Wow, my grilled cheese is that good?”

You nod happily. “Among other things.”

“Doesn’t that story have a sad ending?”

“It’s Greek, of course it does.”

Outside, the storm gets worse. You call off plans for leaving the apartment and put on Naruto, tucking yourself into Yoongi’s side on the couch as you frown at the screen. His arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing up and down your arms.

The touch puts you in a trance. You’re no longer seeing the TV screen – it’s just a blur of colors and the words blend together to make sound, but you don’t understand them. You turn to look up at Yoongi. His nose is softly sloped, skin blue in the TV light. His lips are pouted, eyes focused on the screen, like he has no idea that you’re staring at him, mystified.

“You’re going to burn a hole through my head,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes on the screen. His hands don’t stop their tracing. “What’s the matter?”

“Just happy you’re here, but sorry it’s gone so poorly.”

Yoongi’s frown is so intense that you almost laugh. His pout deepens and he leans forward to grab the remote, pausing the TV. You settle, leaning on the back of the couch as he turns to face you, brows still knitted together. “What do you mean it’s gone poorly?”

“I just wanted to show you around.” You drop your eyes down to your lap where you pull at loose strings on your sweater – Yoongi’s sweater, really. “I feel bad that work has been a mess for me and it keeps derailing our plans. I didn’t want to keep you cooped up in an apartment the whole time.”

“Kid, any time spent with you is a good trip.” He catches your fingers to hold them hostage, refusing to let them worry at the fabric. “Shit happens. This trip isn’t going poorly. I’ve had work stuff too. It’s fine.”

“I just don’t want you to get bored.”

“I could never be bored with you.”

You chuckle and arch a brow. “You sure?”

“Painfully so. You have and do make my life incredibly interesting. It’s just one of those weekends we’re out of sync. Like – when you scratch the CD you just burned and it totally fucks up the flow of the songs.”

“Okay. I hope I can show you around the next two days. I just want to share my experiences with you.”

“And I love that. I want to share them too. But I also don’t mind keeping you to myself in this very cold apartment.”

“It’s not that cold.”

He hums deep in his chest. He unfolds himself, leaning forward with a smirk. You lean away from him, squeaking as Yoongi chases you with his lips, ghosting over yours as he forces you to lay back. “I’m freezing. It’s your responsibility as host to warm me up.”

You have no time for a response, though you have nothing to quip back. His lips are soft against yours, tasting like the honey that you put in his tea. You melt under Yoongi’s touch, his hips pressing you further into the couch as his mouth softly pries yours open.

There is nothing in the world like kissing Min Yoongi. Soft tongue, gentle sucks of your bottom lip, the feeling of his lips curving as he smirks. His nose brushes yours. You slide your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on the ends and making sure to run your nails against his scalp.

Yoongi moans. The sound lights you up from the inside out. You arch into him, pressing your chest against him as you wiggle your hips, seeking friction.

His laughter breaks the kiss. “Impatient.”

“Friction creates heat. You said you were cold.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m doing you a service,” you gasp, closing your eyes as he attaches his lips to your neck. “If my boyfriend is cold, I must be of service.”

He bites you, pulling a sound like a moan and a squeal from your lips. “I like hearing you say that.”

“That I’m of service?”

Yoongi’s hand cracks the side of your ass so quickly and sharply that you don’t have time to prepare, squealing into a fit of giggles as he looks down at you, dark-eyed and brow arched. “Careful, sweet girl.”

“More,” you ask, reaching to cradle his face.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate. He never makes you beg for it. Never makes you wait longer than necessary. He feeds into every whim, every desire, every ask.

Seokjin believes Yoongi is whipped for you. A simp who can’t say no. Yoongi says that he has spent an entire lifetime missing on giving into your every demand and there’s time to make up for.

You like Yoongi’s answer better.

With soft hands, Yoongi peels away the sweater that is not your sweater. Thunder rumbles through the apartment but you barely hear it over the smack of his lips against yours, soft turned messy as you pull at his shirt and he pulls at your bra.

Yoongi’s tongue licks down your neck, laving over bruises he’s already sucked into your skin. You close your eyes, letting Yoongi have his way with you. His teeth pinch at your skin, sharp pains soothed by the soft brush of his lips.

His tongue is deadly, pulling a loud noise from you as he circles a nipple with it. He grins, watching you as he flicks over the pert bud back and forth, sending pleasure sparking through you. Everything he does makes you shiver, especially when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks gently.

“Fuck,” you sigh. “Feels so fucking good.”

He hums, stimulating you further before he lets go with a lewd pop and brings his mouth to another. “Love watching you lose it like this,” he huffs. His tongue goes to work licking at your other nipple. “Every time you lose it.”

Your sweatpants and panties follow your sweater to the floor. Yoongi still has his sweat pants on, not letting you palm him through the material which makes you whine and pout. He rolls his eyes, nibbling on your calf as he settles between your legs.

“Are you really whining?”

“Wanna suck you off.”

“Too bad,” he grumbles, placing wet kisses on your inner thigh. Your breath is unsteady as he nears your dripping pussy before he switches legs. “I fucked your mouth last night.”

“So?”

“So,” he says, leaning down to lick a slow, broad strip up your cunt. “My turn. Haven’t gotten to taste this perfect pussy in weeks.”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue. Your head is spinning as Yoongi licks up your slit again, the roughness of his tongue making you delirious. He drags his tongue up and down, gathering the wetness there before slowly swirling around your swollen clit.

Curses start falling out of your mouth, a hand shooting to twist in his hair and god it is so much longer and so much better now. The silky strands elevate the way you can hold him between your legs, grounding you to reality as he sucks your clit into his mouth, making you pant.

Yoongi never disappoints. You can’t piece together enough strength or attention to look at him feasting between your thighs, eyes squeezed shut as he alternates between licking your clenching hole and sucking greedily at your clit. He’s loud as he eats you out, doing the most to make sure you can feel and hear how fucking wet he has you.

“Fingers?” he asks, sinking lower to tongue at your hole. You let out a high-pitch keen and he hums. “Sounds like a yes.”

“Please.”

Yoongi doesn’t deny you. He lifts a hand to circle where you want him most, applying just enough pressure on the muscles to have you almost screaming but not enough to sink in. You make a noise that sounds like a sob as he continues to tease your entrance with two fingers while sucking your clit. He takes mercy and sinks them in, immediately providing relief, immediately making the pleasure that much more.

Tongue alone, Yoongi can make you cum hard enough to see stars. With his fingers stroking your front wall with a steady pace, matched with the way he suckles, Yoongi is good enough to make you need a recovery period.

The coil in your stomach tightens and tightens and tightens. You buck your hips into his mouth, pulling at his hair. You completely abandon any thought of not hurting his scalp, too focused on the way you’re gushing around his fingers and nearly hysterical from his lips alone.

“Fuck, Yoongi!”

“Come on then,” Yoongi purrs. “Cum for me. Wanna taste.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

He quickens his fingers, fucking them into your g-spot over and over again. It feels like you’re an arrow shot at the sky, gaining height and going up up up up up – the sky shatters and you cum with a scream, squeezing around Yoongi’s fingers. He pins you down to the couch, slowing his pumping digits but sucking harshly on your clit to prolong your orgasm.

You feel a tingle all over, as though there is an electric current skating across the surface of your skin, vibrating to nerve level. You’re panting on the couch as he removes his fingers, giving a final, languid lick that makes you twitch.

Struggling to open your eyes, you blink blearily at him as he looks up at you. There’s a wet sheen of arousal slicked on his lips, flushed and swollen from the way he ate you out. He grins at you and you grin back, letting your head sag into the couch.

“See,” he hums, lifting himself from between your legs. “We’re having a great day.”

“Uh huh.”

“Is my sweet girl a little light headed from just my tongue and fingers?”

“She very much is.”

He kisses your jaw. Your forehead. Your lips. You kiss him back hungrily, strength renewed with the touch of his lips. “See, the weekend isn’t lost. It’s just like a scratched disc of your favorite album. Still good, just a little bumpy.”

“Shut up and fuck me, Yoongi.”

He laughs. “Anything for you.”

-

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This is so beautiful IM so glad that I stumbled upon this

Now We Reign | myg

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering

☆word count: 34.9k

☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

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a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

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