The Truth Between Us | 01

The Truth Between Us | 01

[!!] CO-WRITTEN WITH @gukyi

⇒ Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5

⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there

⇒ word count: 14k

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama

⇒ warnings: alcohol consumption + mentions of injury

⇒ a/n: hey guys, this is a fic written with @gukyi - we’ve both been working on for so long and for the first half of 2018. so, if you don’t send her a message too, i will come find you and shank you. other than that, thank you for reading and please enjoy!!

Keep reading

Dreams and Nightmares m.list

open for requests! please check the pending requests list before requesting! 

demigod!au (son of zeus jungkook x daughter of hades reader) 

→ part 02

lost chances vampirejimin!au (when war runs deep spin-off) 

superhero/vigilante!au (ironman namjoon x healer reader)  

hogwarts!taehyung au (rival head boy x head girl) 

vampireceo!namjoon (continuation of this, vampire ceo x secretary reader)

gladiator!taehyung (warrior/gladiator taehyung x helenoftroy reader)

werewolf!jungkook (werewolf jk x human reader au, as a family)

hades!yoongi (hades!yoongi x reader!persephone, pseudo-arranged marriage) 

→ part 02, part 03

werewolf!hoseok (enemy mates!au)

sonofhephaestus!namjoon (with daughterofasclepius!reader)

more coming soon!

Bottoms Up

A/N: I felt like it’d been a while since I’d written anything that focused on Yoongi, so I really wanted to write something~ I started this a few weeks ago and then got distracted by life and finishing up college for the semester, but I finally finished it so here I am~ Hopefully you all enjoy it lol

Words: 3,007

Genre: Smut

Clubs aren’t your thing—but you give them a chance, because you don’t want to seem like the party pooper amongst your group of friends. Despite their efforts to get you to show some skin, though, you still end up walking into the club wearing a tank-top, skinny jeans, and a pair of laced up high-tops. You weren’t here to be hit on—you didn’t want some creep trying to slide his hand up your inner thigh. You were here to socialize, down some drinks to get over your regret of coming, and then hopefully leave with the first friend in your group who would call it a night.

So, you saddle up to the bar, waving at your friends as they scuttle out onto the dance floor—all high heels and short skirts. Once they disappear into the throng of grinding bodies, you spin on your stool, turning to rest your elbows on the counter top—

…and the bartender is right in front of you. Skinny, but well rounded—dark hair hanging slightly into his eyes, black button up fitted to his torso perfectly. His face remains void of any emotion, but when he catches your surprised stare and the slight part of your lips, he smirks.

“What can I start you with?” he asks, voice deeper than you had expected, a bit rough, but still clearly heard over the music of the club. You pause at the question, your mind blanking.

“I…I’ll take a rum and coke, unless you have something better to give me,” you say, trying to scrape up your remaining shred of composure. The male cocks an eyebrow, looking a little contemplative.

“You wanna get drunk? Or do you just wanna buzz so you can still punch the guy that tries to steal your panties? I mean you gotta throw me a bone here.”

“I don’t even fucking know, man,” you say honestly, leaning back a little to motion at yourself. “Look at me. I mean—it’s not exactly like easy access is written all over my jean-clad legs.”

The bartender hums, reaching down to snag a shot glass. “I’ve been looking at you for a minute or two now and you’re surprising cute despite the outfit,” he comments, reaching behind him to grab a bottle of Kahlua. “Clearly you’re not here to let anyone finger you in the back alleyway, though,” he continues, chuckling when he catches your blush and stunned look.

With skill, he snatches up a bottle of Grand Marnier and Bailey’s too, layering the liquors in a shot glass with exact precision. When he’s finished, he gently slides it towards you, meeting your questionable stare.

“It’s good. Sweet liquor for a sweet girl. Take it—it’ll help you loosen up a little.”

“Are bartenders usually this flirty?” you question him, downing the shot in one go (because damn this dude is making you warm already).

“Only to those who perk our interest,” he responds, taking the shot glass from you after you set down. You laugh, feeling somewhat incredulous.

“Yeah? Should I consider myself lucky then?”

“Depends on your definition of lucky,” he chuckles, eyes fliting to the side when another couple up the bar slurs for him. Smile dropping from his lips, he quickly moves around, throwing some ice into a glass—filling it a third full with rum and the remainder with coke.

“Suck on that till I get back,” he says briefly, sliding it to you, and you watch him, brows lifted in surprise as he quickly goes to tend on other patrons.

Taking the cool glass into your hand, you gently swirl the contents before taking a long sip.

You’re not sure what that bartender is aiming for, playing with your emotions like this, but…dammit, you really don’t mind.

Ten minutes later, dark and mysterious bartender is back in front of you, elbow propped on the counter, interest sparking in his irises as he listens to you ramble about all the things you don’t really like about clubs. You hadn’t exactly meant to just…open up to him, but…you’re beginning to think your tolerance is a bit lighter than you had assumed.

“I’m baffled you’re even here,” he muses, refilling your glass. “It seems like you’d rather be at home, reading a book, or doing some kind of other dorky, yet cute thing.”

“Right? I don’t know, man—I wanted to not seem like the boring friend, but even when I’m here I’m still hiding at the bar,” you say, sighing, and rest your cheek in the palm of your hand. The bartender breathes a laugh, regarding you thoughtfully.

“You could always go.”

“Yeah, but…,” you begin, eyes flitting up to his, and his stare has you feeling a bit weak. “You’re here.”

At that, that man pauses, any movement stopping as his eyes fall from yours, lowering to regard the countertop. You watch him, cheeks hot, regret sinking in your stomach. Luckily, after a few seconds—instead of walking away or anything else that could potentially break your heart—he meets your gaze again and opens his mouth to respond.

…however, just as he does, the same drunk couple form before shouts for him at the other end of the bar and, sighing, the dark haired male hurries away. You’re once again left staring after him, hands fidgeting against your half-downed glass.

What the hell are you doing?

A little less than 20 minutes later—mister dark and mysterious having somehow disappeared from the bar without you noticing, you push your finished drink to the side and slide off your stool. You don’t want to drink anymore—you really don’t want to be here—and now that the flirty, cute bartender is gone, you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself.

More than anything, you just want to tap out and go home, but, before you can, one of your friends spots you near the edge of the dance floor and hurries over. Grabbing your wrist, she tugs you into the mass of people, and you can’t think to tell her that you’re really not in the mood for dancing—especially considering that she has already dragged you into the middle of the action.

So, reluctantly, trying to let any of your worries go (as well as thoughts of the dark-haired bartender—who you may or may not have fallen for), you begin dancing with your friends. At first, things go well—you loosen up a bit, swing your hips, feel the music—but after a few minutes you feel a pair of hands land on your hips. Glancing down—catching sight of pale, long fingers—you realize that this isn’t one of your girlfriends.

“Sorry–,” you begin, taking a step forward, trying to let the person know that you’re not about that tonight—but the fingers only tighten, and you feel a males chest lightly press against your back.

“You said weren’t about dancing, yet when I stopped by the bar on my way out for the night and noticed you were gone, I find you out here on the dance floor,” the deep, familiar voice speaks, and fuck the heat you’d felt before is igniting your blood once more.

“You—I thought—”

“My shift was over. I left to grab my stuff and planned to come back to the bar to take you home with me, but—”

“I…what??” you say, flushing red, turning your head to try and face him, but his fingers dig into your waist, holding your still, and his lips press heatedly against your neck. That has you gasping, grinding back against him as his teeth and tongue work at your throat.

“My name is Yoongi, by the way,” he says, sucking particularly hard, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Yoongi,” you repeat, testing the name on your tongue. But his name alone rolling from your lips has Yoongi growling quietly, one of his hands sinking lower to grip your ass through your jeans. You bite your lip to keep from moaning, lifting one of your hands backwards to tug his hair.

“If you were going to take me home then take me already,” you breathe, grinding your ass back yet again, and before you can gather your head you’re being pulled off the dance floor, Yoongi’s grip tight on you wrist.

“Then let’s go.”

Keep reading

A Ticket To The Sun, 1.

✽ Listen to the series playlist here!

Genre | Dystopia AU.

Pairing | Min Yoongi / Reader.

Words | 14,883 words.

Conspectus | Overpopulation of the planet leads to the unethical method of culling thousands of people once every month, decided through a customary enlistment ballot. In such a world where a person’s future is determined by their name on a piece of paper, life becomes much easier when you choose to be desensitised of emotions such as love and affection. 

But such an ideal flips completely upside down when ___ punches a kid called Min Yoongi in the face.

Warnings | Pining. Many references to weapons in a metaphorical sense. Mild disassociation. Sexual content. Strong angst. Death.

Chapters | One • Two • Three (Finale)

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W I T H  S T A R S  I N  O U R  W A K E

→ celestial!yoongi drabbles.

❝ the story of a star who is banished from the night skies – for he has fallen in love with the human that he grants wishes and luck ❞

Keep reading

fixer upper | myg

⇒ summary: yoongi keeps asking you to fix things in your new apartment, and it’s getting ridiculous.

⇒ {boyfriend!au}

⇒ pairing: yoongi x reader

⇒ word count: 1.5k

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ warnings: ass staring!

⇒ a/n: there are maybe eight different writing styles in this one single drabble, but whatever. requested by anon! 

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