Kisses And Hugs Author. XOXO I Can Just Feel The Angst That Is About To Come, Because Of The Whole Yoongi

Kisses and hugs author. XOXO 🥰 I can just feel the angst that is about to come, because of the whole Yoongi thing. I understand why Jungkook is acting the way he is. There is a certain amount of weird mind fuckery that happens when you finally get help when it comes to mental health. Even in the first few days or a week in Jungkook's case, it feels like so many problems have been lifted and that things are so much better. I mean it is, but at the same time it is just a little bit better, even one level better is so significant. However, it makes people especially me forget that is a Rollercoaster battle mental health. It isn't linear and you will never know when things can be triggered again. I am worried that JK will continue misplace anger and certain amount of possessiveness over the main character. I am sure there will also be moments of grief triggers in the future. This chapter was so good. And as always I love how you write, the emotions you portray, and the topics you cover. ❤

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1  ⋆  Chapter 2  ⋆  Chapter 3

 Chapter 4

“How are you holding up?”

I hesitated, shifting my arms a little to cradle Mina closer, dabbing gently at her cheeks with the soft wash cloth. She gurgled a little, flashing me a gummy smile. I laughed and rubbed my fingertip across the apple of her cheeks, the soft skin giving under the gentle touch.

She was four and a half months old now and almost always slept through the night, only waking twice for a small feed. This meant that Jungkook could take care of her during the night without screwing up his sleep schedule. And so he picked her up every evening, dropping her back in the morning on the way to work. She smelled like him, and I knew that the bonding with her father was the reason she’d settled so well.

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Tiny Treasures | JJK x Reader | 💜🐾(☁️)🔞

Commission for @eyerin !! Thank you sm for that request! 💖

Want to request too? Take a look at my ko-fi then! (ko-fi.com/bonnykookoo)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader

Genre: hybrid AU, non-idol!AU, Web-Designer!Jungkook, bunny hybrid!Reader, featuring Taehyung: your local scatterbrain ™

Warnings: absolute fluff, it’s cotton candy I swear, so soft, so sweet, oh lord, reader is shy and sweet, Jungkook is whipped, he’s so sweet with her ugh, this is now my official emotional support Koo, some mentions of past abuse/neglect, did I mention that kook is whipped, because his heart go boom boom whenever reader so much as BREATHES, strength kink (hint), your local praise and size kink say hi as well, no smut would you believe it, possibly future parts? I dont know I just love them okay

Summary: Jungkook was a hopeless romantic believing in love at first sight- and then there was you, a bunny experiencing the tiny treasures of life for the first time. Together, with him.

It’s busy in Jungkooks apartment- something thats unusual, considering that technically, the young man lives alone, doesn’t really fuck around, and works at home as well ever since he took on the job as a web-designer. There was no reason to cause such an amount of stress in his home- other than the simple fact of his best friend currently pacing around, steps so fast and hard that Jungkook scared his flooring would soon melt underneath the older ones shoes he didn’t take off in a rush. There were bags on his couch, bags on his counter, and a backpack somewhere in his living room- all because of;

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Yo this series is so good. It is also so painful to read and so heartbreaking. I feel like the amnesia might actually have to do more with mental health trauma then any physical injury.

☾  i feel you in my heart and i don’t even know you 

☼ min yoongi x reader (ft. jungkook x reader)

✰ genres: drama, angst, romance, second chance

✰ warnings: explicit language, mentions of blood, infidelity, smut, mentions of depression, trauma, miscarriage, anxiety

✰ soundtrack: nineteen by hayley williams (the con x covers for tegan & sara)

summary: nearly 2 months after their divorce, yoongi and y/n wade through the aftermath of the fallout by themselves. yoongi is moving on with someone else while y/n finds herself stuck in waves of anxiety and depression. soon enough, they are brought together again by an unfortunate accident.

note: hi guys! a new social media au from me, this might be a long one! It’s actually based off a original work I was trying to write but never finished lol

1. profiles

2. it feels like you left a long time ago

3. phone in my hand and heart in my throat, it was my gift for the night

4. what do you mean?

5. i don’t want you to hurt me anymore

5.1. interlude: the news

5.5. interlude: september 10 to 22

6. these echoes of laughter fade into a distant memory

bonus ✰ soundtrack

6.5 interlude: july 11, 2020 (before things really fell apart)

7. i loved you. i’m sorry.

8. seeing you is like a dream

bonus ✰ yn’s apartment

9. stuck in emotions and i don’t know what they mean

9.5 interlude: august 4 to august 10

10. he said that’s how he still remembers me

11. no pretenses, no masks

I am crying so hard. This was so gorgeous, and I am also so melancholic that this is your going away fic, your last hoorah on this site. I have loved all of your work on your masterlist. You are such an amazing writer. Please update followers on Tumblr when you write a book or have other possible projects. Goodbye @jimlingss . 🤧😭

the end.

➜ Words: 31k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Angst

➜ Summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

➜ Notes: Loosely inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

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Yoongi! Why would you say that!? I think the OC might take it the wrong way that Yoongi isn't interested in her and can't wait a month for her and wants to go out to have sex, saying that she should do the same. As if it's a reciprocal relationship. I know that wasn't his intentions but, Yoooooongi why?!

Part Nine - Sunday Morning & Rain

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: one night stand, early relationship, noona, smut, some angst

rating: M

word count: 6.1k

warnings: smut: oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, hand job (m. receiving), so much kissing, frank discussions about sex and sex acts, angst makes a return

a/n: to my support team @deoxyribonucleicacidworld, @sasseone @xjoonchildx and my beta @hobi-gif; y'all are the best. and i'm amused to no end that the end of this chapter gave you all the same reaction.

thank you. thank you, thank you. for reading, for commenting, for caring.

series list

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

----

You wake because of movement on the other side of the bed. You barely register it–you’re not really asleep anymore, but you’re certainly not awake.

You’re drifting off again when there’s a dip in the bed and warmth at your back.

A kiss on your neck.

“Yoongi?” you mumble.

There’s a snicker against your skin. “Expecting someone else?”

You try to shake your head ‘no’ but it’s hard when you are partly in dreamland. There’s another kiss, then teeth and you shudder.

You’re definitely more awake.

A hand on your stomach is sliding down. You fumble around to grab it and stop its journey.

“Period.”

He huffs, his breath light on your back. “It really doesn’t bother me.” His nose rubs along the line of your neck. “You were so good to me last night.”

If you still wrote poetry (college you was angsty), you’d write a sonnet about his voice, especially in the morning. It’s impossibly low and rough, which shouldn’t sound as warm and soothing as it does. It’s liquid chocolate over honeycomb. Sea salt caramel.

“Well… it bothers me,” you answer, awake enough now for petulance to color your voice. You can feel his smile on your shoulder. He rests his chin there, arms now wrapped completely around you. Your petulance isn’t going to last. Not with him like this.

“I can still make you feel good,” he says, his minty fresh breath tickling your ear. Another small bite to your shoulder.

“I need to go brush my teeth.” You aren’t sure how you’re still speaking when all you want to do is turn around and bite back.

“Doesn’t bother me.” He nuzzles in more, mouth open where your shoulder meets your neck. You moan as softly as possible, fully aware of a quiet, but inhabited household. “Turn around, jagiya.”

You start to pull away to get out of bed, but he’s strong when he wants to be and his hold on you tightens.

“Lemme go,” you say, still keeping your voice soft.

“Nope.” The silliness in his voice is hard to say no to, but you are strong. You think.

Also, you still have things pressing on your mind. Things, well, a thing that needs to be said.

You peel one arm away and slip out. Once you’re safely away from his arms, you look back.

His hair is an absolute mess, and he’s squinting at you. Also pouting.

You are so sunk.

“Two seconds,” you say, hurrying out of his room because that face, bereft of his glasses (hence the squinting), those hands reaching for you, those lips perfectly pursed.

You cannot be this deep. Not this soon.

When you hit the hallway, you see movement in the kitchen. You pop your head in.

“Morning,” Seokjin says with a lazy smile.

So, not wearing shirts is normal for him.

“Morning.” You sound like a bullfrog. “There wouldn’t happen to be an extra toothbrush around?”

He laughs and finishes up filling the coffee pot with grounds. He passes you (you hold your breath so he doesn’t get hit with toxicity) and walks back toward Yoongi’s room. But he continues to the door at the end.

He opens it and walks across the carpeted floor. You stop at the door, recognizing that this must be his bedroom. You look in once to see that he has several shelves full of Mario paraphernalia and somehow that’s hard not to smile at.

He comes back and offers a toothbrush, still in a plastic sleeve.

“From the dentist.” He grins again. You point to his teeth with the toothbrush.

“Obviously, yours is very good.”

The smile grows. “My handsomeness does require the occasional checkup.”

“Maintenance is always smart,” you retort, smiling back, but backing up to head toward the bathroom. You pause. “Do you have your own bathroom?”

“I make the most, pay the most rent. Seems fair.”

“Indeed.”

“Coffee’ll be ready in a few.”

“Thanks,” you reply, before closing the bathroom door behind you.

It takes longer than two seconds and when you return to Yoongi’s bedroom, it looks like he’s asleep. With care, you ease back under the sheets, resting your cheek on your hand. He’s facing your side of the bed (oh god, can you even think that?), arms curled close. Lips slightly in pout.

His hair is getting so long. It nearly covers his eyes. You reach out to get it out of his face, and his hand wraps around your wrist. Both eyes squint open.

“You’re awake,” you murmur. He gives you his patented flat line expression (you’ve never seen anyone else do it quite so well: his lips and mouth a literal flat line) before tugging you close. Your noses bump.

His mouth takes yours with no further words, his hands sliding to your back, quickly shoving your shirt up and over your head. The kiss is broken and you whine, making him laugh.

“So desperate, jagiya?” His words barely connect in your brain as he kisses down your neck. You tremble. “I like you in my shorts.”

You roll your eyes, though your audible breathing probably reduces its impact. “So fancy lingerie isn’t needed?”

He looks up at you, chin right above your breast. “Unwrapping is always fun.” He kisses the top of your breast, but you cup his face in your hands, bringing that mouth back to yours. He lets you, his own hands adjusting your hips until they’re pressed against his. You shake your head.

“Seokjin’s awake,” you whisper.

He sighs and draws back, but doesn’t let go of you. “For someone who went to acting school, you aren’t much of an exhibitionist.”

The playful grin makes you glare at him. “You do not have to sound so disappointed.”

He taps your nose before pulling you into his side, kissing your temple.

“I’ll survive.”

You wonder if the brief making out might have affected him too much. “Are you… Do you need…?”

He laughs, hoarse. “No, I’m good. You don’t have to every time, you know? I can take care of it.”

You can feel your face heat. He’s still chuckling, his hand running up and down your side, leaving shivers in its wake.

“Speaking of…”

You know immediately where this is going. “No.”

“You haven’t used it again?”

You try to roll over, away from him, but he seems intent on using his strength to keep you right where you are.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want to without you.”

There’s a pause and you think maybe you said too much.

“Why not?”

You take a chance and look up at him. His face is just inches away, no need for him to squint.

“Don’t most people prefer with a partner?”

He smiles softly. “Yeah, but you don’t have to wait.”

“But waiting is good,” you answer. “I can wait.”

He scoots a little closer, not that there’s much room. “But you don’t have to.”

“I waited for a lot of years, Yoongi. I don’t see the need to when I can wait to be with you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

“What?”

“You’re just…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Now I’m worried.”

He laughs even though you said it lightly, you are concerned.

“I like you,” he says. “Even when sometimes you don’t make sense to me.” He kisses you. “We should get some breakfast.”

–

“A month.”

You don’t know what to expect. This trip was planned all the way back in the fall, well before meeting Yoongi. Well before even thinking that you could be in a relationship.

If this was a relationship.

“A month?”

You nod, poking your fork at the last bit of toast. It’s just the crust and you haven’t explained fully to Yoongi that you really don’t love toast… you just enjoy warm bread. “Pretty much all of June.”

He’s looking at you, but you really aren’t sure with what emotion. You feel like you should explain why you haven’t said anything, but you feel like any explanation will make assumptions about what the two of you are to each other, and you are trying to just accept what is, not what you wish will be.

“You don’t have to stay at my house every day. I know the commute can be a lot. But if you can come by every few days, grab the mail, make sure my plants aren’t dead…” You trail off as he’s still just staring at you. “I figured you could use my car too.”

“I… I mean, that would be great. A car…” He runs a hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled. “I’m just kinda…” He takes a sip of his coffee. “A month?”

“Yeah. We’ve been planning it since like September.” You bite your lip to keep from explaining more. You know that is just a bad bad idea. “If you can’t, that’s fine.”

“I can.” He doesn’t hesitate. “I just… A month, then.” He cocks his head at you, like he expects you to say something, or himself to say something. That there’s a cue, but neither of you know the next line.

You feel like you should apologize. You’d rather do that than keep this awkwardness.

“Noona,” Seokjin calls as he comes down the hallway. “Are you staying for lunch? It’s Yoongi’s turn to cook.”

You swallow back your ‘I’m sorry’ and look over at the tall man. “I probably should go. I have a stack of essays that sadly don’t grade themselves.” You stand up and start to pick up the dishes.

“Jagiya,” Yoongi begins. “We can do that.”

“I remember a guest doing the dishes in my house,” you say, voice more arrogant and sure than you feel. You glance at him and relax to see the smirk. “So there.”

Seokjin laughs. “I’m not gonna argue.”

You end up doing the dishes (putting them into the washer) while Seokjin wipes off the table and asks you about teaching. Yoongi sips his coffee, scrolling through his phone, with only the occasional glance at you and Seokjin.

When you return to his bedroom, he’s still talking to Seokjin about something to do with their internet bill. You quickly change into your clothing, placing his clothes in the hamper in the corner.

“You heading out?”

You turn to look at him as he stands in the doorway. He shuts the door behind him.

“Yes, I was going to empty the bathroom trash. Is there a dumpster near?”

He shakes his head and goes to kiss you. No words, or warning. Hands cupping your face, lips to lips. You feel his glasses press against your brow.

“Yoongi?”

“We’re okay?” he asks, mouth barely parting from yours. “Last night?”

“We’re okay.” You hope. How does anyone really know? “I promise not to over-gift.”

He shakes his head. “You do whatever you feel like. It’s my issue.”

“But I don’t… I don’t have to overdo it. Because it matters to you.” You draw your finger along the top of his right cheek.

He stares at you, glasses fogged. “I wish you’d stay.”

There’s a weird jump in your heart. “Stay?”

“Today. I mean, I have to work later, but…” He lets out a long breath. “It’d just be nice.”

For a second, you thought he was referencing your trip. That he didn’t want you to go. That for once, someone desired your company (other than friends and family).

Stay in the present.

“It would be nice.” You kiss him back, telling your heart to calm the fuck down. “How about I come see you? At the bookstore soon?”

He rests his forehead on yours. “I don’t know. I feel like you’ll be distracted by all the books when I try to convince you for a quickie in the back office.”

“Yoongi!”

He laughs at your outraged exclamation and you smile.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I’m right,” he replies, kissing you again. He seems hellbent on making your legs weak, so you use him for balance. He pulls you close, his tongue playing with yours, warm and slick.

Your mind forgets about pretty much everything but how he feels and tastes. It’s like being drunk: all present, all fluid, all dizzy.

“I’ll let you know my schedule.” He barely gets the words out before his lips are fused on yours again. His hands have slid down to your ass, pressing you closer. “Sure you can’t stay?”

You’re panting, eyes glazed. He’s smirking.

“Sure.”

He makes a face, but slowly releases you. “Okay then.”

You shake your head as though that’ll clear it. “I’ll just empty the–”

“I’ll do it. Stop being weird.”

“I am weird.” Weird is on brand for you.

He snorts. “I mean, about that. I’ll take care of it.” He takes your hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

–

The thunder is a lot louder than it was just a few seconds ago, enough to rumble a few window panes. You’re in your living room, feet crossed on the sofa, trying to read the suggested changes to curriculum from the administration, who you doubt remember what teaching is actually like.

You don’t notice at first that your cell phone is buzzing because of said thunder, but when you reach for a sip from the tea mug on your coffee table, you see it light up.

Yoongi.

Can you bottle up this feeling? This quick leap of joy and anticipation in your heart at seeing his name. Can you save it in a perfume bottle and take it out for special occasions, dab a drop of it on your wrist and remember when you’re sixty years old, eighty years old, how one man made you feel ‘seen’?

You swipe the screen. “Hello?”

“So… might need a favor.”

You smile even though he can’t see you. “I might be able to provide one. What’s up?”

“I had to go see a venue out of the city for my internship. I brought Tae with me–”

“Hey noona!” It’s unmistakably Taehyung in the background noise of Yoongi’s call. “We’re stuck.”

You sit up, smile dropping. “You’re stuck?”

“The storm knocked out the subway. We got as far as your stop, actually, but they think it’ll be hours before it’s fixed and–”

“I’m on my way.”

Pause. “Please be careful, okay? It’s insane out there. Can we stay with you?”

You’d assumed he’d ask to be driven home. Which you’re glad he isn’t because driving at night in the rain is not your favorite.

“Of course you two can stay here. I’ll be there in ten or fifteen. Have you eaten? Should we pick up some takeaway?”

There’s a chuckle on the other end. “We’re fine. Just soaked.”

“Got it. See you in a bit.”

“See you. And jagiya?” His voice is muffled like he’s covering his mouth. “Don’t make me share a bed with Taehyung. He’s clingy.”

You laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

When you arrive and pull up to the curb, you see that indeed they are both indeed soaked. As Tae climbs into the back, and Yoongi in the passenger’s seat, you hand a towel to both of them before getting back on the road.

“Noona, you are my hero.”

You grin at Tae through the rearview mirror. His brown hair is plastered over this forehead, but his grin is still bright and happy.

“I regularly rescue men from all types of dangers: rain, bad grammar, processed food only…” You glance over at Yoongi. “Am I missing something?”

He smirks back. “Do you really want me to say anything in front of Tae?”

You feel your eyes widen. “Nope. We’re good.” You focus back on the road as both guys laugh.

When you get them both into your house, they’re dripping on your floor.

“Tae, the bathroom upstairs. Just put your clothes outside the door. I’ll dry them.” You hang up your purse and feel water trickle down your back from the few seconds you were in the rain.

“So I’ll just walk around… naked?”

Yoongi groans at his housemate’s words. “She doesn’t want to see your dick, Tae.”

“I really don’t,” you say quickly. “I’ll find you something to wear.” You push the younger man toward the stairs. He’s giggling. “You like tea?”

“Yes, noona.”

“I’ll make you some when you’re done.” You leave him at the bottom of the stairs. “Up and to the right.”

“You’re the best!” he calls.

Yoongi half-smiles at you when you return to him.

“You know where the bathroom is,” you say, arms crossed over your chest. “Are you waiting for an embossed invitation?”

“Sassy,” he muses before leaning in to kiss you. “Want to join me?”

You make a face at him and with the same attitude, you turn him and push him toward the downstairs bathroom. He’s chuckling, resisting a little just to make it harder for you.

“I need to find clothes for you both.”

“He’s taller than me,” Yoongi says once you’re both on the tiled floor. “But that’s about it.” He pulls off his shirt and drops it on the floor. Then promptly shivers. You roll your eyes and move around him to turn on the shower. “Are you gonna make me tea, too”

You nod and move to leave, but he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you back, mouth meeting yours. You melt (even with his jeans soaking your leggings) and kiss him back.

“I like the days I get to kiss you,” you whisper. You feel him smile against your lips.

“Yeah? Me, too.” He draws back, one finger under your chin. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Any time.” You take a step back. “Shower. I’ll put clothes on the sink.” You let him undress as you go into your room and pull out the plastic tubs under your bed. You sift through the old t-shirts and sweats, knowing that your mother has told you a million times to get rid of things you don’t wear anymore, but you’re glad in this instance you didn’t listen.

You find two t-shirts and two pairs of threadbare sweats. You take one set upstairs, grabbing the wet pile of his clothes. You throw them into the washer and enter your bathroom.

“Jagiya?”

“Well, it’s not Taehyung,” you quip. “Clothes are on the sink.”

His head pops out from the shower curtain, his hair pushed off his forehead. He grins.

“You can still join me.”

“I’m pretty sure shower sex only exists in fiction. Otherwise, people get seriously injured.” You pick up his discarded clothes.

“You’re no fun.” He pouts.

You kiss that pushed-out bottom lip. He inhales sharply.

“Finish up,” you say before returning to your washing machine. There’s the pleasant background noise of falling water both outside and from the showers as you add detergent to the load. You close it up and walk down your hallway, sidestepping the new bookshelves you’d just gotten. They aren’t filled yet. That is to be a fun project for the weekend when you need a break between grading essays.

You hear the upstairs shower turn off first as you fill your kettle with water. You plug it in and click the button before walking to your cabinet that houses an overstuffed shelf of teas. You start pulling out the non-caffeinated ones, reminding yourself that you should really toss some of the older ones.

You really are a pack rat at heart.

You hear steps.

“What kind of tea do you like, Taehyung?”

He pops around the corner and you laugh. Your old sweats stop almost mid-calf on him; he’s significantly taller than you. Also, the drawstring is pulled very tightly. He’s narrow-hipped like Yoongi. You should have given him a more current pair.

The t-shirt hangs on his frame and his hair is damp as he towel-dries it.

“What do you have?” he asks, coming in and looking over your array. “Do you have honey?”

“What kind of rescuer would I be, if I did not have honey?” You tease, making him grin.

“Then you pick,” he says and watches as you pick a chamomile for him. He hums in agreement and you pour boiling water into a cup for him. You offer him the honey. As he squeezes it in, you look for something for Yoongi. You grab your one canister of rooibos tea and fill an infuser.

“When do you need to be back home tomorrow?” You ask, plopping the infuser into another mug, before setting the timer. You glance over at Taehyung who is stirring the honey along with the tea bag.

“I’ve got an evening shift.” Taehyung worked at a fancy restaurant (that was his words) where he had to know what kind of wine went with fish versus steak. “I think Hyung has to be at the studio tomorrow by nine.”

You nod.

“I like your room,” he says, pointing at the ceiling. “Especially the baby dragons.”

You laugh. “I love those dragons. I only have a few of the figurines, but they’re my favorites. Do you like dragons?”

“Mmmm.” He takes out the tea bag. “I like all animals.”

“Even fantasy ones?”

“Those especially.”

Once the timer goes off, you both take the mugs of tea into the living room, where you sit back where you were before the phone call. Tae sits next to you, setting his mug on the coffee table (very conscientious to use a coaster) and looks around.

“I thought you might be stuck-up,” he says softly.

“Huh?” You look up from another work email to him. He’s staring at the photo of last Christmas. You’re there with your two nephews, laughing as you sit on a beat-up truck.

“When he said you were coming to his birthday party. I thought you’d be stuck-up.” He looks over at you now. His brown eyes are lighter than Yoongi’s and far more solemn than you are used to seeing. “Why would an older woman want a younger man?”

You can feel your face heat. He shakes his head before you can say anything.

“I watched you most of the night, by the way. Even after the strawberries.” He blows on his tea. “I thought that might just be a way to make us like you.” He takes a sip. “But you’re just that nice.”

“I am not–”

He shakes his head again. “You are.” He places his cup back down and scoots closer. “You’re really good to Yoongi-hyung. He smiles a lot more.”

“He didn’t smile?” The amount of times you hear Yoongi laugh and see him smile is one of the things that makes you just like him more.

“Only with us, if we made him laugh. Now he smiles when he’s just on the couch. When he gets texts from you. When he’s about to see you.” He rests his chin on the edge of your shoulder, familiarity surprising, but nice. “Jin-hyung asked him what was so special about you. We were all kinda worried. He hasn’t been in a relationship since–” He shrugged. “Been three years. He told Jin-hyung that you were soft.”

“Soft?”

He nods. “And you are.” He doesn’t move from your shoulder.

“God, Tae, you’re worse than Hoseok about keeping things to yourself.” Yoongi comes around the hallway corner, giving his hair one more brush with the towel before throwing it at Tae’s head. The younger man catches it without flinching, giggling.

“You’re right though. Noona is soft.” Tae’s long arms encompass you in a hug and you hug him back, trying to absorb his words. You really can’t. You know you’re a marshmallow, but that’s rarely used as a compliment.

There’s a plop on the other side of you and someone extricating you from Tae’s arms. He pulls you to his chest and points at Tae.

“Get your own.”

Taehyung laughs before leaning forward to grab his tea. You are wrapped in Yoongi’s arms, back against his chest and his wet hair is touching your cheek.

You try and reach out to give him his tea, but his grip tightens. “Yoongi, your tea.”

“She made you tea, hyung,” Tae says. “Be nice and drink it.” He snickers again.

One arm releases you and grabs the lone mug. Yoongi’s still got you close and you are restricted from looking at your laptop in this position. But he’s warm and he smells good (your shampoo smells better on him). He takes a sip and puts the mug back down.

“Not terrible.”

You huff. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.” He wraps his other arm around you again, firm in his hold.

“Thanks for not making it sweet,” he says, mouth very near your ear.

“Whisky and Americanos… pretty sure you don’t have much of a sweet-tooth.”

Tae grins over at you. “I told noona you had to be at the studio at nine.”

You feel Yoongi nod. “But… assuming the subway is back up, you can drop us off at the station. Or we can Uber.”

“I actually cancelled classes for tomorrow. They were all freaking out about exams, so I gave them a day off to study.”

“Wow, you’re nice,” Tae comments. “My professors never did that for me.”

“You only went to college for like a semester, Tae,” Yoongi says, his mouth now at the back of your neck. You’re desperately trying to not let it affect you. It’s only been a few days since Hoseok’s show, but you already miss his touch.

“Long enough to realize it wasn’t for me.” He gives you a silly smile. “No offense, professor.”

“None taken. I don’t think college or university is for everyone. What did you do instead?”

“Worked, took art classes, painted, sculpted… then tried rock-climbing. Became an instructor.” He shrugs.

“Now you’re a waiter.” You aren’t sure if this is the right answer.

“Yes, and going to learn how to make wine, so if Jin-hyung ever gets his own restaurant, I can make wines for him.”

“How long will that last?” Yoongi asks, almost grumpily.

“Does it matter, hyung?” His eyes are so big and innocent, but the smirk is knowing and older than his mere twenty-five years. “Thank you for the tea, noona.” He gets up and leans down to kiss the top of your head. “I’ll shut my door so Yoongi-hyung can stop pouting and have you all to himself.”

“Oh but–”

But Taehyung is already up the stairs and Yoongi is turning you toward him, mouth on your cheek and then jaw.

“Yoongi…”

“Tae’s the original free spirit. He’s always changing interests. I think we’re the only constant in his life.” He holds your face in his hands, eyes zeroed in on you. “Now, kiss me.”

You can feel yourself flush, but you raise your eyebrows in an attempt to resist. “Oh? Is that any way to talk to your rescuer? Who gave you a place to stay? Didn’t leave you on the mean streets of suburbia, likely to be caught by the neighborhood watch for lurking and–” He cuts you off with a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you think you should worry that he can turn you on so easily.

“I guess I owe you then,” he says after making your head spin. He closes your laptop and with more grace than you, gets off the couch, hand holding yours. You follow him, looking up toward the upstairs bedroom.

“Yoongi… my house isn’t that soundproof.”

“Tae sleeps like the dead. Also, try to be quiet,” he tells you before turning toward you once in your bedroom. He kisses you deeply, backing you up to close your bedroom door. You sigh into his kiss. “He was there our first night, too.”

You bang your head on the door, breaking away. “He was. Playing video games. Fuck… I didn’t… I hadn’t thought about that.” Can you be embarrassed in retrospect?

Yoongi is smirking at you. “Maybe you are an exhibitionist.”

“I am not,” you say, trying to slip past him and away from the door. He blocks you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. “Yoongi.”

“Jagiya.”

“May I get by?”

“So proper,” he teases, leaning in to kiss you again. “Ever just go wild?”

You shake your head, but keep kissing him. “Not really. I mean, drunk nights… Kissing strangers… “ He moves down your neck before getting on his knees. “Um, what are you doing?”

He gives you a ‘duh’ look. “Eating you out.”

Your stomach flip-flops. “On the bed?”

He tugs at the waistband of your pants, pulling them down, eyes focused. “Right here.”

“Uhhhh.”

He gets your pants down to your knees and pauses, looking up at you, resting his chin on your thigh. “Concerns?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stand if you…“

“Go on.” That teasing lilt in his voice should frustrate you, but it just makes you warmer. You had no idea that you’d enjoy being teased so much by a partner. It makes all the growing up years of being made fun of fade in the affection of his words. “You can say it. When I get you off.”

You grimace and he laughs, rubbing your legs and then pushing down your pants all the way.

“I’ll hold you up,” he answers your worry.

“No, I–”

He leans in to kiss your underwear. You squeak.

He looks up at you again. “Are you questioning if I can hold you up? Jagiya, that hurts.” He pouts at you, but his eyes are still so bright and amused.

“I’m not light.”

He makes a ‘humph’ type of sound before standing back up and looking you dead in the eyes. He takes your hands and puts them around his neck and then without more warning, lifts you. On instinct, you wrap your legs around him, nervous.

“See.” He kisses your cheek. “You’re fine.” He sets you back down, firmly pushing you against the door, before getting back on his knees. He hooks one finger in your underwear. “You can still say no, but I really really want to do this.”

“Why?”

He hears the catch in your voice and glances up. “Watching you break and let go? It’s music. Very private music.” He tugs down your underwear and only your upper half is covered. “One leg over my shoulder.”

You start to protest, but he lifts your leg and places it there. You just close your eyes, your face burning with embarrassment and rest your head on the door.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath tickling your labia and clit. Then he licks there. You bite your lower lip to keep from making noise. “You can make a little noise.”

“How much–” You gasp when his tongue goes a little deeper. “How much of this is so Taehyung knows how good you are?”

He chuckles. “I swear none of it.” He kisses your inner thigh. “I don’t give a fuck if he knows. Or anyone else. Only you.” He goes back in and you try to balance yourself with one hand in his hair. Your grip tightens when he sucks your clit and you moan. “Only you, jagiya.”

It feels like ages since you’ve had an orgasm (it really hasn’t been that long in the grand scheme of things), but you still have a hard time believing it isn’t something you’ve made up. Or that Yoongi isn’t a figment of your imagination.

His grip on your legs almost hurts when you finally break. The door at your back keeps you from falling, as does his grip on you. He licks you clean as though this act is normal (will it ever be to you?). He stands up slowly, still anchoring you as you try and catch your breath. He takes a hold of the top of your shirt and wipes his mouth and face, nose scrunching before smiling.

“Thanks for being my rescuer tonight, birthday girl.”

He hasn’t called you that in months and your heart aches at the sweetness. You kiss him, noting the new taste, filing that away to process later. You don’t know what expression is on your face, but he smirks, chuckling before embracing you and half-dragging you to the bed. He keeps kissing you, and you try to keep up with his urgency, his tongue playing with yours. He falls back on the bed with you on top of him, letting out an “oof”.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask, breaking away, trying to get off him, but his hands grab your hips, holding you flush to his own arousal.

“Don’t move.” He takes a deep breath. “Fuck. All I want to do is be inside you.” He sits up, pulling off his (your) shirt and then removing yours. He stares for a second or two at your bra (nothing special, but he still looks hungry) before undoing and drawing it down your arms. “Pretty.”

“I’d rather look at you,” you reply, certain your face is on fire.

He makes a face at you, his hands running down your bare back to settle on your ass. “Sure.”

You stifle a whine when he gropes. You start to undo the drawstring and lift yourself up, pushing down his (your) sweatpants, freeing his cock. He hisses when you take him in hand.

“I told you that first night that you were gorgeous,” you say, stroking him. “That hasn’t changed.”

He kisses your nose before he groans when you squeeze.

“You good?” you ask.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, grinning at you before tucking his lower lip into his mouth when you carefully line him up at your entrance. “Look at you. This is old hat?”

“No,” you whisper, as you both push toward each other. “Every time, it’s overwhelming.”

He nods, sweat beginning to glisten on his forehead. He jerks his head toward the headboard and with a hand on your thigh, he moves you both so your head rests on a pillow. You stare up at him as he starts to thrust.

In this very human act, he still looks beautiful; sweaty, face tense. You feel so much, it overflows.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?” He laces his fingers with yours. You melt and regret saying anything.

“Never mind.”

He slows down, raising an eyebrow at you. “Really?”

You turn your face away, waving your hand at him. “Go on.”

He laughs and lays down on top of you, bending your knees so you cradle him. He kisses your cheek and jaw, nibbling to make you gasp.

“What is it?” He can be relentless.

You swallow and turn to him. “Is a month a long time to not have sex for you?”

His smile drops and he props himself up on his hands, staring down at you.

“This about the trip?”

Talk about killing the mood. What is wrong with you? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Especially when we’re... “

“Say it. Say what you want.” You aren’t sure what he’s feeling right now. His face is serious, the middle of his forehead furrowed.

“What do you want?”

He looks down at where you two are joined and then looks back at you.

“I mean… other than that.” You feel panicky. You’re turning him off. Though he doesn’t feel like he’s softening. He’s probably regretting ever being with you. What are you doing?

“You first.”

You close your eyes, chastising yourself for bringing this up. Sometimes you can’t keep quiet. Can’t keep your feelings to yourself. And it always backfires.

“Open your eyes and talk to me.”

You do. He looks concerned.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to just be with me.”

“Go a month without sex?”

You nod. Were you asking the impossible? You don’t know. You don’t know what’s normal for regular sex-having people. Especially men in their twenties.

He cocks his head to the side. “And you?”

“And me?”

“Are you going to be having sex?”

You sit up and the movement makes him hit a certain spot and you shudder. “Oh wow.” Your head falls forward in the moment of bliss.

“Answer me, jagiya.”

Your head comes up, shocked he would need to ask. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to not if I was going to. And I don’t want to have sex with anyone else.”

You see the muscle in his jaw move. He’s tense, holding his body still even though you think it wants to keep thrusting. You start to move to help him out, but then he speaks:

“Maybe you should.”

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crossposted to ao3

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© 2020-21 btsarmy9593: BTS belongs to BigHit and they are just inspiration. I am fully aware that my stories are not them, in any way. They are far better than any thing I could write. The rest is from my little brain. Please do not steal. Why would you do that?

This was so cute!! Otter hybrid yoongi is adorable.

hold me tight

✗ requested by anon for my 1.2k follower event, and based off prompt C45. → pairing: otter hybrid!yoongi x human f!reader → genre: fluff → word count: 3k → warnings: none. → summary: it was perhaps too easy to fall in love with your hybrid neighbour turned friend, especially when he seems to have a knack for fixing all the things other people can’t.

You wrinkle your nose as you stir the boiling porridge, the unmistakable scent of ocean filling your apartment. You’ve cracked open the window in the kitchen in a desperate attempt to air it out, but the musty summer heat only seems to make the smell worse. Soft murmurs and your air conditioner spluttering on and off is the only thing keeping you company as you try not to gag at the heavy smell, and you let out a relieved sigh when you can finally reduce the heat to a simmer.

You resist the urge to turn around as you hear Yoongi’s low swears, the AC rattling loudly as he attempts to wrestle it back into working. It’s the third time in the last week it’s been dying on you, and the maintenance staff in your dorm obviously doesn’t know how to fix it properly. So, you’ve enlisted Yoongi’s help instead. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last that you beg your neighbour turned friend for help – not when he’s so good at fixing whatever he gets his hands on. You don’t think you’ll ever quite get over the fact that he managed to fix your broken computer by simply turning it around, giving it a few harsh knocks at the back and then booting it up. The old thing was truly only a hair away from going in the trash by how it kept randomly turning off and freezing up, but after Yoongi touched it, it was like it was back to brand new. You’re still not entirely convinced that Yoongi isn’t some sort of wizard – his hybrid genes aside.

“There we go,” You can hear the pleased smile in his voice as the AC seems to finally give in to Yoongi’s tinkering, the sound of cold air rushing into your apartment making you all too aware of the hair plastered to your nape.

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