BEAUTIFUL!!! The Longing, Sadness, Understanding, Everything!!!! Thank God They Met At The Coffee Shop

BEAUTIFUL!!! the longing, sadness, understanding, everything!!!! thank god they met at the coffee shop again and found each other 🥰🥰🥰

00:00 | myg

title: 00:00 wc: 10.9k pairing: myg x fem.reader

summary: in a world designed for soulmates you’re the odd one out. but you’ve found a way to navigate life on your own. until you meet min yoongi and your carefully constructed walls all tumble down.

genre: soulmate!AU.angst with a happy ending (this is a trope fest! Have some e2l, f2l, some fake dating, some fwb….you name it…)

rating: teen to (light) mature, I guess (see warnings)

warnings: allusions to death while giving birth, there’s a ton of sadness and loneliness felt by the main characters, a tiny bit of voyeurism, there’s pride and there’s prejudice (this is just me being stupid, there are not actual austen-references in this, i think), cheating (not by the main characters), badly researched medical terms (by me), people drink but they are of age and definitely have enough brains to enthusiastically consent to everything they do, implied smut (don’t forget protection. also, protect your data not just your health), profanity.

a/n1: this is a commission for @dee-ehn​ for @armyadvocates ‘ ARMY for AAPI fundraiser (find resources here) Dear Danica, Thank you for comissioning this fic! I hope you like it! I’m sorry that it took me so long!

a/n2: THANK YOU @hobi-gif​ for betareading, you made this so much better. I’m so grateful for your time and your attention to detail. <3 also THANK YOU to @jinpanman for beta-reading early parts of it as well, giving me feedback and hyping me up, when I was stuck. (and also for putting the post that inspired this scenario onto my dash.) <3

AO3 // Masterlist

Maybe it’s destiny’s cruel idea of a joke, but when Min Yoongi finally opens his mouth to let out the first scream of his life, the numbers on his tiny little wrist turn from 00:01 to 00:00.

Keep reading

2013/2023 - nothing changed...♡ | for @sopekooks

i love this couple!!!!!! this is AMAZING and i can’t wait to reread straight shooter as always hahahaha

More ‘Straight Shooter’ lore yesssss I love that fic so much!!!!!!! Things I like to imagine after the ending: 1) JK about to go on his first mission and y/n cooing over him and fully kitting him out whilst Yoongi pouts 2) a rooftop date where Yoongi is like “sorry I’ve sniped here before but the view is beautiful” and y/n is like “you thought of me?? 🥺” 3) general domestic scenes in the Hobi/Yoongi/JK Household

I wrote this in like 20 minutes, thank you to @morndas for looking at this and assuring me it wasn't terrible (I haven't written anything in the straight shooter verse for literal years now)

a rooftop date where Yoongi is like “sorry I’ve sniped here before but the view is beautiful” and y/n is like “you thought of me?? 🥺”

straight shooter snippet ; 1

Familiarity breeds contempt, they say.

Yoongi doesn’t think so.

Then again, Yoongi’s found he doesn’t always agree with what everyone else says - what they say, what they think, what they do. Maybe it’s because he’s always hyperaware of his surroundings. He has to be in his line of work, after all. Contempt is a luxury he doesn’t allow himself to foster. A single slip-up and he could be dead.

The lower levels are looked down upon by those who live above. In the upper levels they turn up their noses, turn away from the grime and the filth, the decaying foundations that have been neglected for far too long. Dirty, ugly, abandoned, they say, even as they continue to build atop them, profit from them. There’s nothing beautiful down there.

But they don’t know the city like he does.

They don’t know about this secret perch, hidden atop a darkened skyscraper, dilapidated and hollow.

They don’t know that the lower city shines.

All the strata rise from here, a graduated terrace that ascends upwards and upwards. Each level sparkles and glitters, glowing even in the darkness, a kaleidoscope of neon colour that would be a riotous clamour if one were too close. Instead, from this distance it all blurs into one, a shimmering gradient that softens all the sharp edges of this place into something beautiful. Being at the bottom of this cascading array means that an onlooker can tilt their head back and never find an end to it all, almost, like they could lean further and further back and never fall. That they would be caught in this neverending ouroboros of light and life.

There’s nothing beautiful down there, they say, but Yoongi knows that’s not true.

Because, after all, you’re here.

You’re here in the lower city, and you’re here beside him. You’re here, staring up at all of these lights with eyes wide open, drinking in this view, the endless constellations that make up a city of man-made stars.

“It’s hardly easy to get up here,” you say. “Not exactly a great place for a tourist attraction, if that’s what you were planning.”

Yoongi lets himself smile. He’s been doing that a lot more recently. Smiling. Usually when you’re around.

(Who would have thought?)

“I was using it as a sniper’s nest,” Yoongi says. “I thought you’d like the view.”

You turn towards him. As far away as you are from all those lights, those shooting stars, you still shine brighter still. (Bold, brilliant, bright. Beautiful.)

“You thought of me?”

(Sniper rifle of your making braced against his body, staring down a scope that you’d built, weapon loaded with bullets that you’d designed. The remembered press of your lips on his temple, his mouth, his neck. The lights of the city haloed around his view even as he focused in on his target below.)

“Yes,” he says.

(It’s just you, and him, and the endless lights below you. In your own hidden world away from everything else.)

And - with no bite behind it, no hidden laughter, nothing but a rare moment of unguarded fondness - you smile.

–

Familiarity breeds contempt, they say, but there are some things that Yoongi grows more familiar with day by day and will never grow tired of.

(Even if he’d never say it out loud.)

such a strong and honest OC!! i love slytherin yoongis so much and i’m giggling screaming kicking my feet that this OC matches up to him 🤭🤭 thank you author!!

cold → myg (M)

Not proof read. 

♢ Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader → Hogwarts AU

♢ Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)

♢ Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smut 

⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?  - Warnings: swearing, some finger action

Hogwarts au masterlist

Keep reading

Nightcall

Yoongi's never been anything but honest with you. He's not looking for a relationship. It's too bad that you've been in love with him since you met him.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, angst, smut

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, emotional unavailability

Yoongi’s bare ass flashes past you, pale as the rest of him, as he steps into the shower. You avert your eyes so he doesn’t catch you looking as he turns.

You brush your teeth and pat serum onto your face. You’re always conscious of your skin, sometimes you hate the way you look, barefaced.

Yoongi showers in silence, steam fogging up the glass partition separating you.

You’re moving before you give yourself a chance to second-guess yourself, stepping behind the glass with him.

The surprise in his eyes nearly makes you lose your nerve, but he’s quick to rally.

His hand closes around your arm, and he pulls you into a kiss. He tastes minty, fresh. He cups your breast, touching, squeezing. The weight of his cock brushes against your belly as you lean into him.

‘Yoongi,’ you sigh.

He pushes you against the marble-tiled wall, his body insistent against yours, the hardness of him making you breathless.

‘Turn,’ he grunts, hands already on your hips spinning you around. He drags your hips back, pushing down on the curve of your spine, positioning you for him.

You’re not quite wet enough when he enters you, but Yoongi knows how to get you there.

He cups your breasts, litters your back with kisses, thrusting shallowly until you’re slick enough that he can glide into you.

‘Fuck,’ he pants. He’s moving fast, hard, you don’t think you’ll have time to cum and you’re right.

Yoongi groans as he spills himself into you, arms tightening around you, holding you.

It’s the best you’ve felt in a long time.

Then, too soon, he’s pulling away, rinsing himself off.

He barely looks at you before he steps out of the shower, leaving the water running.

You stand in the shower longer than you need to, trying to compose yourself, and by the time you come out he’s fully dressed.

You spend time on your makeup, put on the work clothes you brought with you the night before when you came over, and pack your things.

You’re stepping out of his bedroom, heading for the door, when he calls out after you.

‘Do you want a drink or anything?’

You’re thirsty, but you want to go before your feelings catch up with you.

Yoongi’s quick when he wants to be. He’s crossing the living room, handing you a glass of juice, watching you gulp it down.

You hoist your overnight bag over your shoulder.

‘Bye,’ you say.

You risk a glance at him.

He’s looking at you like he cares, and your resolve wavers dangerously.

You leave, closing the door behind you, walking quickly because the greater the distance you put between yourself and Min Yoongi, the better.

***

Min Yoongi is honest to a fault. He said from the first time you fucked that a physical relationship was all he was prepared to offer you. He told you not to expect to meet his friends, to be taken out on dates, to even think about romantic gestures.

You make casual conversation but he doesn’t ask you anymore about your dreams, your feelings. He asks you about work but he doesn’t probe.

He’s never asked you when your birthday is.

If he notices that your phone is constantly lighting up today, he doesn’t say. You’ve put it on silent but your friends are chatting about what a great time they had with you this evening at your birthday dinner, before you left to meet Yoongi.

The joint present they got you is tucked in your handbag, and if Yoongi notices the pale pink wrapped box, he doesn’t say.

He’s sliding his hand up your thigh as he kisses you, making the red silk of your dress ride up.

He’s a good kisser, firm but not insistent, letting you set the pace. Kissing him has always been your favourite part, because he holds you, really holds you, when you kiss.

It makes you feel like he’s there, it helps you pretend that he really cares.

Yoongi tugs at the tie holding your dress together, unwrapping you, smiling at you as he sees your matching lingerie.

‘So pretty,’ he says. His voice gets so deep when you’re together like this, sometimes you can barely make the words out but you love the sound of it.

Yoongi’s sucking at your tits in that way he knows you like, getting you slick and sticky for him so that by the time he enters you, you’re humming with pleasure.

He doesn’t take long to make you cum, he may not know where you work now but he knows how to make you arch your back for him, how to make you cry out his name.

You’re breathing hard still, coming down from your high when he gets up off you, leaning back on the couch he’s just fucked you on.

Sometimes he holds you after you have sex, and those are your favourite times because God knows, you’ve been in love with him almost since you met him.

You feel a pang in your chest because you know you deserve more than this. You would have loved to have him hold you for a while, today.  

You’re automatically straightening your clothes, putting your shoes back on, picking up your bag to go. The ridiculously cheesy birthday card your friends got you falls out of your bag as you pick it up, and Yoongi picks it up, handing it back to you.

His expression is impassive, you don’t know what he’s thinking.

You tuck it into your bag and force a smile.

‘See you later, Yoongi.’

‘You’re not staying?’ he asks.

‘Oh, I have an early start tomorrow,’ you lie. It’s true, but the main reason you’re not staying is that leaving in the morning is harder than leaving him the night of.

Spending the night in bed with him makes you want things he’s not prepared to give you.

You’re the one blurring the lines, because Yoongi’s always been clear with you.

‘Happy birthday,’ he says.

You smile at him, easy. ‘Thanks.’

‘Why don’t you wait up here for the taxi?’ he asks.

‘Oh, it’ll be here soon, don’t worry,’ you say.

He doesn’t tend to walk you out, so you’re surprised when he gets redressed, shoving his feet into slides, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head.

He waits with you for the taxi, waves as you’re driven away.

It’s not the worst end to your birthday.

***

Your best friend, Lia, doesn’t understand why you’re so caught up with Yoongi, but she loves you so much she doesn’t make you feel less because of it.

Yoongi had a girlfriend when you met him, a woman he’d been dating seriously for a while. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he was a taken man, and you hadn’t befriended him with any intention or expectation of anything more.

He’d been funny, irreverent, honest. You’d hung out at the park a few times because you were both trying to get into running. The running thing had petered out quickly, but then you’d started getting coffee together after your runs, then breakfast.

Then you hadn’t heard from him in a while, you’d assumed he was busy.

When you saw him again he was different, a little harsher, less soft. He’d invited you over to his place, which was unusual.

You were deep in friend mode, too distracted to recognise a booty call when you saw it.

You’d stopped him as he leaned over you, put your hand to his face so he’d look at you, questions written all over your face.

‘We broke up,’ he’d told you.

You’d realised then what he needed you for, and you’d sealed your own fate when you’d let him use you that night.

Maybe ‘use’ is too callous a word, because God knows, Yoongi had made sure you’d enjoyed yourself too.

It was after that first time that Yoongi had said what he’d said about not expecting anything from him.

It’s been months since then of late night texts, leaving his apartment in the early morning. The Yoongi who texted you to come over wasn’t the same Yoongi who you’d met at that party of mutual friends. The Yoongi who’d taken you running and made you laugh had turned into a harder Yoongi.

He was hurting, you could see that much.

There’s a niggling worry in your head about what he’ll do when he’s healed, when he doesn’t need you.

***

Jung hyuk is a decent guy, you decide. It’s not his fault he’s so damn boring. He’s obviously highly intelligent, he’s an accountant of some description.

He’s one of Lia’s boyfriend Henry’s work colleagues, and you’re going to kill Henry when you next see him for setting you up on this date.

‘What are your plans this weekend?’ you ask politely, taking a mouthful of your pasta.

He sips his wine. ‘Nothing much, probably some hiking. My sister’s got engaged and my mother wants us all around to dinner this weekend too.’

‘Oh how lovely. Do you know her fiancé?’ you ask.

‘We haven’t met,’ he says.

You take another bite of your pasta, because carbs are the only way you’re going to get through this meal.

‘What about you?’ he asks, valiantly.

You’re opening your mouth to answer when the front door of the restaurant opens and you see a familiar dark head.

Yoongi’s walking in, but it’s not the Yoongi you’ve come to know over the last few months, who seems to live in sweats and baggy tees.

This Yoongi is so beautiful he takes your breath away.

His dark hair is styled away from his forehead, a lock falling carelessly forward over his pale skin. He’s smartly dressed, in a suit jacket, a shirt, clothes that look like they’ve been tailored especially for him.

His familiar silver earrings glint in his ears, and they’re the one thing that look the same.

Because the other unfamiliar thing is that he’s got a woman on his arm whom you instantly recognise as his ex.

She’s as beautiful as he is.

You’re not surprised at seeing them together, maybe a part of you has always known that your thing with Yoongi is transient.

What you are surprised at is how small and sad seeing them together makes you feel.

Jung hyuk’s speaking to you, and you apologise, turning back to him, reaching for your composure and your social smile, pasting it on your face.

You make it through the rest of your date with barely any idea of what you’re saying.

Jung hyuk, like the decent guy he is, wants to see you home, but you beg off, saying you’re meeting a friend.

You walk a few doors down from the restaurant to a bar and order yourself something to drown your sorrows in.

You’re on your second drink, armour almost entirely back on, when a painfully familiar low voice orders a whiskey next to you. You glance up to see Yoongi. He doesn’t look at you as he takes a seat next to you at the bar.

You turn back to your drink.

Your skin feels prickly, there’s a thrumming through your veins, a thrill at seeing him that you can’t deny.

Your body’s always had a visceral reaction to seeing him that your conscious self isn’t in control of.

You can’t stop yourself. You say his name.

At first you think he doesn’t hear you.

Then he’s turning to you, hand sliding around the back of your neck, pulling you into him.

His lips meet yours, and your eyes squeeze shut so you can focus on how he feels.

As always, the feel of him stems your longing. You know it’s transient but it feels so good.

He tastes like whiskey, and honey, and him.

Then he’s pulling away, tossing back the remainder of his drink, curling an arm around you to usher you out of the bar.

He keeps his arm around you as he pulls out his phone with his other hand, ordering a taxi. You’re tucked into his chest under his coat, face pressed against him, so close you can smell his subtle cologne, the fabric softener he uses on his clothes.

Lately you’ve been more careful about where you put your things when you go over to Yoongi’s. You’ve been planning your exits because you want less time after the high of being together and the inevitable fall when he doesn’t ask you to stay.

You want to be well on your way home so you can pull yourself together again.

And so you track where your things are – your heels in his entryway, kicked off hastily as he peels your coat off you and hangs it on a coat hook. Your clutch, placed carefully on the hall table next to his wallet and keys.

Your dress makes it to his bedroom floor, your panties in a fold of black lace next to it.

Your bra never makes it off you, not completely anyway, straps tight around your upper arms as Yoongi fucks you into his bed.

You moan into his ear as you cum, and he says your name as he spills inside you. Repeatedly, almost like a chant. Like he’s thinking of you and not the woman he dressed up for tonight.

Yoongi gets up to use the bathroom, and you get up to get your clothes back on.

Retracing your steps as you make your exit, picking your things up so there’s no trace of you ever being there apart from your DNA on his sheets, on his skin.

You’re getting quicker at this, so quick it almost feels like you’re running away.

Who are you kidding? You are running away.

Your phone lights up when you reach home, but for your own self-preservation, you ignore it.

***

You wake slowly, the insistent buzzing of your doorbell needling your semi-consciousness so that by the time you’re awake there’s a line between your brows, furrowed in annoyance.

You stumble to the door, press a button for the intercom.

‘Hello?’ you ask, voice husky from sleep.

‘It’s Min Yoongi,’ he says. ‘Can you let me in?’

There’s no time to wash the sleep from your face. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you first thing in the morning anyway.

You open the door warily.

‘Hi Min Yoongi,’ you say, looking askance at the two cups of coffee in a cardboard tray in his hand.

He’s got the grace to laugh. ‘I thought I might not be the only Yoongi you know,’ he says, trying to play it off.

‘You’re right. I know a lot of Yoongis,’ you say, straight-faced.

You nod to the coffee he’s holding out to you. ‘For me?’

‘I wondered if you wanted to get breakfast with me,’ he says.

You look at him for a long moment.

There’s a fluttering in your chest that only gets stronger as you take in his clothes, his hair, how good he smells.

‘Is this a date?’ you ask. Your voice comes out steady even though there’s a roll of the dice associated with it, your heart at stake.

Yoongi smiles at you, looking so much like the old Yoongi who used to take you for coffee that you know what he’s going to say before he says it.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I’d like to date you, if you’ll have me.’

‘Whoa there,’ you say, reaching for your coffee. ‘Let’s just see how coffee goes.’

Yoongi laughs and then you’re smiling at each other like idiots.

It’s the best you’ve felt in a long time.

©hamsterclaw 2022

THIS YOONGI WAS SO HOT. so confident and can hold his own against oc’s brother!! but he was also so sweet calling her sweetheart holding her hand buying her the slushee 🥹🥹 and HARLOW?? I LOVE HER. oc’s also hot as fuck i hope her and yoongi have a good time breaking in his condo 🥴

cybersex | myg

The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend? 

» pairing: yoongi x fem!reader 

»wc/date: 14.6k | July 2022

» genre: BTS | 18+ | brother’s best friend | smut | fluff | humor

»warnings: alcohol | blowjob | car sex | creampie | dirty talk | fingering | masturbation | pet names | phone sex | pussy slapping | sex work | unprotected vaginal sex

»notes: idk what’s up with me and writing yoongi in sex work-themed fics but uhhhh here you go?? alsopls don’t judge me for not knowing how to write good dirty talk 🥴

» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist

»what was jai listening to?  agust d - agust d  // cyber sex - doja cat

It all started with a bottle of vodka and a Twilight drinking game. You were pretty good at holding your liquor, so you didn’t expect the night to end up with you passed out on the floor of your living room, your roommate using your butt as a pillow. 

The mixed drink Harlow prepared for the two of you wasn’t half bad. Clearly, her time in bartending school had paid off, even though she never actually got a job as a bartender. Now the knowledge was merely a perk and the promise of a fun time. So sipping the fruity vodka cocktail was easy, but you hadn’t anticipated just how many times you would need to take a drink for every time Edward did something creepy that Bella found romantic, or when the CGI effects for vampires running were absolutely shit. Even every time a vampire hissed was a drinking rule that had you feeling woozy only a quarter of the way into the movie. 

Keep reading