Min Yoongi Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

MASTERLIST

NETWORKS: @bangtansorciere @thebtswritersclub

A=Angst  S=Smut  F=Fluff

Kim Namjoon:

Books, Boba, Bosom Buddies  F

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the new hire at the library you work at. After the first clumsy run in you had with him your feelings for him develop over the months and you two painfully pine for each other.

Kim Seokjin:

Sick Visit  S

Summary:  You go to the doctor’s office when you’re feeling quite under the weather and your usual doctor is out of town and now the man taking your temperature is the same man you drunkenly slept with last weekend.

Min Yoongi:

Cruel  A

Summary:  After the terrible breakup you had you decided to take a late night stroll and you end up crossing paths with your ex best friend.

Teacher’s Pet  S

01 02

Summary: Your economics professor with a failing marriage takes an interest in you and you want him just as badly as he does.

Not in The Same Way  F S A

Summary: You’re absolutely infatuated with your tutor and everything is going well until your ex from a year ago is back in the picture.

Jung Hoseok:

TBD

Park Jimin:

Lunchbox Friends  S (with yandere themes)

Summary: Park Jimin is your best friend but has crossed the line in your friendship in the worst way.

Kim Taehyung:

Enamored S (with yandere themes)

Summary: Taehyung found you absolutely beautiful and he’s decided to make you his forever.

Jeon Jungkook:

Personal Business  S (with yandere themes)

Summary: You’re the assistant to the very rude CEO Jeon Jungkook and he’s taken an liking to you. He wants you to be his and only his.

Guarded  F

Summary: The biggest rule about being a prison guard is that you’re not supposed to have any form of relationship with the prisoners, but you decide to break the rules for Jeon Jungkook and you don’t know why.

Good Little Girl  S (with DDLG/age regression themes)

Summary: You were a brat and Jungkook was going to make you deal with the consequences to make sure you weren’t a brat ever again.

Step-Brotherly Blues   F S A

Summary: Drabbles on your sour relationship between your step-brother Jeon Jungkook and how it progresses.

Not in The Same Way  F S A

Summary: You’re absolutely infatuated with your tutor and everything is going well until your ex from a year ago is back in the picture.

Campsite Comforts|Min Yoongi x Reader

This fanfiction is apart of the @thebtswritersclub lub summer project! I’m so excited to participate and I hope this work gets much love. Thank you to all the mods that organized this!

♡ This contains mature themes so please avoid if you’re not 18+

♡ Genre: Fluff, smut, established relationship, non-idol AU

♡ Warnings: fingering (f. receiving), breast play, unprotected sex, impreg kink, dirty talk, creampie, public sex

♡ Summary: Yoongi’s original plan for your camping trip had backfired and gotten the both of you lost in the woods. After taking a break and revisiting the problem to find a solution it all works out in the end in more ways than one.

♡ Word Count: 2.1K

Oh, how you wish you could turn time back to three hours ago. You and your fiance are lost deep within the forest because he thought it would be a great idea to go off the trail. After all, you wanted to have a nice secluded weekend away from the busy trail. “Dammit!” Yoongi had exclaimed after his nth attempt trying to use his maps app, but it would not work of course since you guys were seriously in the middle of nowhere. You come up behind him and start to take his rucksack off of him to relieve some of the tension he has. “Love, let’s just set up where we are now and try again tomorrow. We can’t get very far when we’re frustrated and frazzled.” As much as he hates to admit that you’re right he reluctantly nods and starts to take out the supplies to set up camp.

Once everything is set up you both take out the self-heating meals that were packed and start to pour the water to get the process started. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve ruined the trip before it even started. I just wanted the weekend to be filled with no distractions and no noise. Just us, our love and the wilderness.” Hearing his sweet sentiments made your heart swell with joy and bring a warm smile to your face. “You know I’m not upset with you my love. I really understand you came here with good intentions and as much as you had your plan, plans will never always go exactly how you want them to go and you just have to go with the flow.” You rubbed his back while he started to munch on his food.

You and him were stuffed after dinner and decided to spend the rest of the night watching the sunset. You were snuggled into Yoongi’s side with a blanket wrapped around your body to help keep the warmth. Taking a step away from the corporate world for a weekend was just what the both of you needed. You never realize how fast-paced the world is around you until you take a step back and enjoy what’s around you. “Okay so for tomorrow we’ll go on an early morning hike and then we’ll work our way down the mountain to find the trail again and set up at the established campsite and shower there. Maybe we can go into the small town nearby and get lunch!” You listened fondly to how excited Yoongi was for tomorrow and just nodded along. Your eyelids started to feel heavy and his words began to sound faint in your ears as you started to doze off.

Yoongi must’ve transferred your body into the tent because you were woken up by the sun peeking in through the small crack of the tent from the tent not being fully zipped up. You rolled over and admired Yoongi’s peaceful sleeping form. You didn’t want to wake him up, but you knew he would want to kick himself for not committing to his idea. You placed your hand on his shoulder and lightly shook him. “Hun, it’s time to wake up for our hike.” He’s a light sleeper so this was all that was needed to wake him up. He stretched and smacked his lips to get his body acclimated to the new day. “Thanks for waking me up.” He grinned at you and puckered up his lips asking for a good morning peck. You happily obliged his request.

The both of you got dressed quickly to get ready for your hike and worked together to break down the temporary campsite that sufficed for the night. Once both rucksacks were packed you and Yoongi started your trek for the hike. The sun was beaming a lot harder than it was yesterday, but it was a lot less humid so it didn’t feel as bad as you proceeded on the hike. You and Yoongi only hiked for a quarter of a mile because you wanted to conserve the most of your energy to make your way down the mountain to find the trail you were supposed to stay on. Walking down was a lot less work so you and Yoongi trekked down holding each other’s hands contentedly. After about fifty minutes, your fiance was able to spot tents set up so you knew you finally reached the trail. He giddily made his way towards the campsite and you tried to keep up with how fast he was making his way down. By the time you reached where he was, he was already unpacking what was in his rucksack and you followed suit. It was only two in the afternoon once your camp was reestablished. You picked out the casual sundress you had packed and decided you were going to shower first and let Yoongi cool off and relax.

The campsite surprisingly had warm water in the showers. It felt soothing having the floral-scented soap you brought and the hot water wash away the sweat and grime that had accumulated. You tried not to spend too long to help preserve the hot water to make sure Yoongi had some. You hurriedly dried off and slipped on the dress. Unbeknownst to Yoongi, you didn’t have any underwear under your outfit and you wanted to keep it a surprise for later.

You made your way back to the tent and signaled that it was now Yoongi’s turn to wash up. He already had his necessities in a small pile so he just picked up what was next to him and made his way toward the male showers. He gave a quick peck on your cheek and it made you giggle from how soft it was. In the meantime, you got out one of the multiple bottles of water you packed and got out your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brushed your teeth twice to freshen yourself up since you passed out before you had the chance to last night. You put away all the toiletries and organized what you could to keep yourself occupied while Yoongi got ready.

As soon as the both of you were dressed to hit the town you walked with arms linked together. It was the small vacations like this that helped rekindle the love the two of you have. The walk had led you to a small, family-owned bakery. You just knew it was going to be a pleasant treat just from the sugary smells that permeated through the doorway. You decided on ordering a cream cheese danish with jasmine tea. Yoongi got a cinnamon crumble muffin and got an iced americano as his beverage. You couldn’t miss out on a great picture opportunity so you made sure to get a few clicks of the food and managed to get a selfie of you and Yoongi before either of you could touch what was ordered.

The rest of the time in town was spent browsing in the shops and trying to find a souvenir. You and Yoongi decided to get matching keychains to commemorate your time spent here. The sun had started to set on your walk back and the evening started to get cooler. You walked ahead of Yoongi trying to get to the campsite faster as your feet had started to have pain in the arches. You twirled around to see how far Yoongi was from where you were and you saw how he had a darkened expression. You stand in place waiting for him to catch up to you and without a word, he grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along.

“Yoongi, we're walking past the campsite! Where are you taking me?” You looked around trying to see where you were headed, but you couldn’t focus. You didn’t understand where this sudden change of attitude had come from. Once Yoongi felt like the both of you had enough distance from the campsite, but not too much where you would be lost he stopped. With quick movements, he pinned you against the thick trunk of a tree.

“My love, you were out here flaunting your bare ass and you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I would want to know about that?” He was smirking and you raced to explain yourself. “I-I wanted it to be a surprise for you. I was going to show off once we got to the campsite!” He chuckled at your panic. Suddenly his lips found purchase on the column of your neck and started to suck bruises all over. Soft whimpers escaped your lips and you were clutching onto Yoongi’s shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He slipped his hands under the skirt of your dress and squeezed your ass. You slipped down the straps of your dress to release your hardened nipples. “Oh, my girl is very excited! You can’t wait for my mouth to be all over you.” His plump lips wrapped around your nipple and his other hand grasped your tit. His nimble fingers rolled your nipples between his fingertips and restraining your moans became even more of a challenge.

The other hand that was left under your dress made its way to your slick cunt. He slowly dragged two fingers against your slit and inserted them in with no resistance. You were so wet that they could glide in and out of you with ease. “My pretty girl is so tight and wet for me. It’s so cute how I can do the bare minimum and you already look fucked stupid. I can already feel how you’re going to cum around my fingers. Do it already slut!” He pumped his fingers vigorously and the way they were curled made your orgasm hit you harder than you expected. Your first orgasm of the night and your legs are already shaking. He slid his fingers out and the empty feeling had you shiver. He tapped your lips with his cum soaked fingers and you opened up your mouth. Tasting your wetness turned you on, even more, you didn’t even want to wait to be fucked. “B-baby I need you to fuck me. I need your cock in me right now.” Your hands desperately were rubbing his cock through his pants and you looked at him with pleading eyes to give you the go-ahead to unbutton his pants. His hand wrapped around the hair and gave you a light tug. “Aw, you’re such a needy little whore. Since you decided to be so polite and ask, you can go ahead.” He gave you a quick tap on your ass to let you know to get started. Seeing his stiff cock spring out of his underwear had you moaning at the sight.

You turned around and pressed your front to the tree and jutted out your ass. He came up right behind you and teased your pussy by dragging the tip against your wet folds and even tapping it against your clit a few times. Once he inserted himself inside you the both of you moaned simultaneously at the sensation. “Fuck my love you feel so good around my cock!” Yoongi’s grunts and moans had your cunt clenching around him. You rubbed your clit for extra stimulation and the friction had you cumming almost instantaneously. “Your pretty tight cunt is about to drain my cock, love. You love the idea of that though right? You like hearing about how your cute little pussy gets filled with all my cum!” His dirty talk had you almost screaming from pleasure. His pace picked up and his balls were slapping against your sopping wet cunt. “Fuck I’m gonna cum pretty girl! Can’t wait to fill up your tight hole and get you pregnant. I’ll have you get so sexy and swollen with my child. I bet you’d love that.” His hips stuttered as he spilled his load inside of you and you were able to release one more orgasm for yourself. The both of you were panting from the passionate sex. Yoongi quickly slipped his pants back on and placed a couple of kisses on your back. “You did so well for me, sweet girl. Let’s get back to the tent so I can clean you up and enjoy the rest of our night.” You could only respond with a blissed-out smile and extend your hand out for Yoongi to take it and guide you back. As much as things went wrong in the beginning it all worked out in the end.

Whirlwind | MYG

♡pairing: min yoongi x reader

♡wc: 3.1k

♡genre: smut, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol AU

♡ warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, oral sex (f receiving)

♡summary: with a hurricane coming your way towards your state, your roommate provides a safe haven to the man you’ve despised for as long as you can remember.

MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

The grocery store was bustling with people getting ready to prepare for the hurricane that was set to land in your state by the end of the week. You always knew once hurricane season started you needed to get supplies to keep you stocked, but since you’re plagued with the disease of procrastination you have no choice but to do last minute shopping. At least you had the company of Park Jimin to help you with your grocery run.

Park Jimin has been a close friend of yours since high school and have stayed roommates even after your college years. He has been the biggest support system for you throughout the years and you have been the same for him.

Once you were done checking out at the store you made your way to the car to pack all your groceries away. There was already a steady drizzle of rain falling down from the sky and you sighed already imagining the flooding that was bound to come with the storm. Jimin decided to take over the role of driving back home. You thanked him and quietly slid into the passenger seat. Jimin had refrained from any conversation throughout this trip and it made you a little concerned for him. He is never one to shy away from conversation or saying what he thinks so this behavior leads you to believe that something is wrong.

“Hey Chim, is everything alright?” You glanced his way to see if his expression will give anything away, but his face didn’t even twitch.

“Yeah I’m good bub, I just have some stuff on my mind. Don’t mind me.” He sent you a small smile to try and placate your worries.

“Okay well you know I’ll always be here to listen whenever you’re ready.” You gave him a small squeeze to his shoulder and dropped the topic the rest of the drive home. The soft hum of the radio filled up the silence of the car ride.

Once at home the groceries were unpacked and put into their respective places in the fridge and pantry and Jimin stored the cases of water bottles in the garage. Without glancing your way he called your name softly to get your attention once he was back in the kitchen. You peered at him waiting to hear what he was going to ask.

“Can we talk once I’m out of the shower?” You nodded and retreated to your room to give him the space he needed to do.

Your mind started to sift through memories of the past weeks to see if it could give you any kind of hint as to what this conversation could be about. Is he going to move out? Did you do something to upset him and didn’t realize? The cogs were turning and anxiety was starting to make you feel a little queasy. The time that Jimin took to shower and change felt like it was stretching on for too long. You were about to get up and check on him when you heard tow soft knocks against your door before he opened it to let himself in.

He was changed into an oversized sleep shirt and sweatpants and his bare cheeks were slightly flushed from the hot shower. You patted the middle of the bed for him to sit down and get comfortable.

“What’s going on Jimin? Are you sure everything is okay?” He was wringing his fingers together

And his eyes shifted around the room as he was preparing himself to speak. “With the hurricane coming up, is it okay if a friend comes and stays with us until it passes? His town is directly in the path of the storm and his area is prone to flooding.” You stared at him with widened eyes and nodded without hesitation. Why was he so nervous about this? This wasn’t nearly as bad as all the scenarios that you came up with in your mind.

“Of course that’s okay Chim! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Don’t scare me like though again I thought you were dying or going to move out!” You stretched to give him a hug and he rubbed your back gently. With that being the end of the discussion he bid you goodnight with a tight lipped smile that you gave no mind to and he took himself back into his bedroom.

Okay -scratch that- there is one friend of Jimin’s that is not a friend of yours. That person is the one and only Min Yoongi. He has been a thorn in your side since Jimin has entered your life. He has never done anything that was genuinely that awful to you but it’s the way he speaks and carries himself with such an arrogant attitude that aggravates you.

When you saw him walk through the threshold of your front door with his duffel bag you instantly felt your blood start to bubble from the boiling rage you had in your body. The glare you sent Jimin was deadly and you motioned him to follow you into your room so you can tear him a new one talk.

“Park Jimin I don’t know if you suddenly have amnesia for the past 10 years, but I don’t know where you got the idea that Min Yoongi is allowed into our home! If I had known it was him that you were offering a place to stay I would’ve just let the hurricane take him away.” You were livid. Jimin took your hands in his to stop the gesticulating you were doing. With the way your hands were moving wildly he was afraid you would hit him.

“ I didn’t tell you because of that reason Y/N. I know you don’t like him, but this is only temporary. I told him to be on his best behavior, but if he really acts out I’ll send him to a hotel nearby if the weather isn’t too bad.” You let out an exasperated sigh, but had nothing else to add to the conversation that would make it productive. You stomped back out into the living room and refused to acknowledge Yoongi’s presence. Maybe if you just ignore that he’s in your home you can keep your sanity intact.

“Hey princess, can you sit somewhere else? This is gonna be my bed for the next couple of days.” You gritted your teeth hearing that god awful nickname Yoongi called you. He always said it in such a condescending tone that would get under your skin in the perfect way. “In case you forgot Yoongi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a sharp bite. “This is my home that you are a guest in. You don’t get to boss me around on what I can and cannot do in my home and my couch.” You continued scrolling on your phone hoping he would get the hint to leave you alone. Needless to say you were wrong. Instead he decided to plop himself down on the couch without a care that jostled your body. You glared at him and he met your gaze with a stupid fucking smirk. On top of this he started to unpack his duffel bag noisily, tugging on the zipper with a strong force. You got up from the couch with a huff and locked yourself in your room with a slam of your door. This was going to be a strenuous couple of days.

The next day you woke up and found Jimin and Yoongi working outside to put shutters around the windows. This blowing wind was starting to pick up but the humidity was still high in the air. You stepped outside and greeted Jimin while he was busy holding the ladder to keep Yoongi stabilized. You retreated to get two cups of cold water to give the boys and when you came back outside Yoongi was wiping the sweat off his face with the front of his t-shirt. The way the fabric rode up to expose his pale skin and toned back had you staring without even realizing. Jimin was suddenly clearing his throat and when your eyes landed on his face he was staring at you with a raised eyebrow. You looked back at the cups and handed them both to Jimin and headed back inside without a word.

When they finished the project of the shutters the sliding door opened and when you walked in Min Yoongi’s shirt was off. You stared at his abs that were just as toned as his back. When the hell did he get so fit? Even his biceps were much bigger than you ever remember them. Why do you even remember the size of his biceps?

“You seem to have a staring problem princess, keep that up and I might do something about it.” His low voice took you out of your daze and you scoffed at his comment. “You come anywhere near me Min and I’ll punch you into next week. Watch yourself.” You slid your eyes back on the Netflix show that had lost your interest minutes ago. He just snickered and walked into Jimin’s room to take a shower.

Once the door was locked Jimin stood in front of the TV blocking your view with his hand on his hips. “What’s up with the sudden ogling you have for Yoongs? You wanna fuck him or something?” This made you burst out in sarcastic laughter. “Get real Jimin. I wouldn’t even touch him with a 10 foot pole.” you rolled your eyes at the thought of even getting touched by Yoongi. “Whatever you say, but your actions are contradicting the bullshit that you’re trying to convince me with.” And with that Jimin stalked off into to kitchen for a quick snack.

Later in the evening the thunderstorm was booming with thunder and you could see peeks of lightning through the shutters. The combination of these conditions with the howling wind has led the power to go out. Jimin searched for the lantern in the garage to bring back some light into the home. You were left with Yoongi in the living room and no words were said between the two of you. It's for the best. Yoongi felt like breaking the silence first.

“You know, I never understood why you can’t stand me princess. I don’t think I’ve done anything to wrong you.” He studied his nails as he talked. “First issue already is that dumbass nickname that you won’t stop calling me even though I told you endless times that I hate it.” “Aw, but I think it suits you and your stuck up behavior.” He sneered and this made you meet his eyes with a fiery glare. “Go fuck yourself Min. You’re one to talk about other people’s behaviors when you walk around like an arrogant ass. You have some fucking nerve.” The tension in the room was rising to levels that made it feel stuffy. Why the hell is it taking Jimin so long to find the lantern? “You think you know everything about me princess, but you don’t even know how wrong you are!” His voice was rising as he got up from the couch and he was now towering above your seated figure. “Well if I’m so wrong why don’t you prove it to me that you’re not some self-important prick.”

As soon as those words came out of your mouth his lips were colliding with your own and his fingers grasped your chin to keep you in place. You kissed back with the same amount of fervor and gripped the front of his sweatshirt. As soon as you let out a whimper of desperation, you heard the garage door open notifying you both of Jimin’s returning presence. Yoongi pulled away at light speed and took his seat back on the couch to keep the distance between you two. “What did I miss?” Jimin looked between the two of you with confusion spread on his face. You ignored his curiosity and retreated into your room before he could detect the flush spread across your face.

Since the power was lost the house became hotter as the night progressed and the sweatshirt you had was discarded for a cropped tank top and nothing more than panties for the bottoms. Your handheld fan lost power an hour ago since you decided to have it on full blast instead of trying to conserve the power to have it last longer. The sheen of sweat was building up on your skin and you went to the garage to get yourself a bottle of water to help cool down.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you opened the door and saw Yoongi’s figure in the garage too. “Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” You clutched your hand over your heart trying to calm your heart rate. You’re too frazzled to realize that you’re standing in front of Min Yoongi in just your panties and that he’s shirtless and only boxers. He smirked and slowly approached you. You pedaled backwards until your back hit the wall and was cornered by him. His eyes roamed over your body and smirked. “You know you drive my crazy princess?” You turned your face to the side to avoid eye contact, but his breath fanned your neck in the right way to make your heart race. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You murmured through pouted lips.

He took a small step back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Really? Because the way you were whimpering for me hours ago just from a kiss says otherwise.” You flushed at his words and you were again cornered by him. He slit his leg between yours and his thigh was just ghosting the already damp spot you have in your panties.”Well I can give you a little reminder and more to jog your memory.” He raised his thigh and planted his hands on your waist to keep you place. The sudden sensation has you gasping and rutting your hips to get more friction.

“Look at you, you’re like a bitch in heat rutting against my thigh. You’re so desperate for me already and I haven’t even done a thing princess. I can’t wait to fuck your shitty attitude out of you.” His words were starting to anger you. “Shut the fuck up!” You were too busy chasing your high to even want to give him the time of day to his taunting. To this, he swiftly removed his thigh and went back to standing straight. You were distressed and looked at him with wide eyes. What is wrong with him? “Yoongi what the fuck?” He wrapped his long, slender fingers around the column of your throat. “You think you deserve to fucking cum? With the way you’ve talked to me all these years I could edge you all fucking week. Don’t tempt me.” You shivered at his words. His fingers slithered in between your legs and pushed your panties to the side to tease your clit. You released a breathy moan and threw your head on his shoulder. “Tell me no right now and I’ll stop right now sweetheart. We won’t even have to talk about it ever again.” You shook your head against his shoulder. “I need words, that isn’t enough.” “I want you to fuck me Yoongi. Now stop talking and do something.” The desperation was so evident in your words and that’s all he needed to hear.

His dexterous fingers got to work and slipped into your sloppy cunt. The way his fingers pumped into you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “F-fuck Yoon right there!” Your thighs were shaking and your pussy fluttered the closer you were to your orgasm. At the last second you were about to cum Yoongi slipped out his fingers and slapped your pussy. You were panting now with how worked up you were.

“Take the panties off. Now.” You obliged with his words and his dark eyes made you even wetter if that was even possible because you are the most soaked you’ve ever been before. Nobody has ever made you feel as good as Yoongi is right now. Once your panties were off he dropped to his knees and stuffed his head between your legs. You propped up one of your feet on his thigh and he grabbed the back of your thighs to bring you closer. His lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking on it. Your moans were rising in volume and in pitch. His tongue dipping into your hole and licking your cunt made you feral. You gripped on to his hair and that sensation had him moaning against your core. That was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a strangled moan as you came all over his mouth. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good on my tongue.”

You didn’t even get a chance to regain your bearings before Yoongi's lips were on yours. The taste of him mixed with you had you groaning. His cock was straining against his boxers and he was rutting against your thigh and he nibbled on your lip and kissed you fervently. “Now you’re the bitch in heat on my thigh.” You chuckled, but Yoongi wasn’t in the mood for jokes at the moment. He stripped off his boxers and the sight of his thick cock had you drooling. He tapped the back of your thigh twice and instructed you to jump up. You followed his instructions and his hands gripped your thighs as he pressed you against the wall. He angled his cock against your entrance and bottomed out in one go. This had you screaming out in pleasure and your nails dragged against his back.

He fucked into you mercilessly and reveled in the sounds you made. Knowing he was making you feel this good and scream out inflated his ego beyond the atmosphere. “Tell me you’re only fucking mine.” He growled into your ear. You were so fucked out you could barely process his words. “Tell. Me. Princess.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust that had you seeing stars. “F-fuck I’m only y-yours Yoongi! Only yours!” He grinned hearing this. The coil in your stomach snapped and brought you to your second orgasm of the night. “Who would’ve thought the bitch with the most to say would be creaming all over my fucking cock.” Yoongi was groaning through his words and his thrusts were starting to get sloppy. After a few more strokes he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

You both were out of breath and panting and you winced when his softening cock slipped out of you. You both suddenly jumped at the sudden knock against the garage door. Jimins voice rang through the other side. “I’m glad you’ve been able to reconcile, but you two are fucking loud!” You heard his footsteps fade away and you and Yoongi snickered at each other. Maybe Min Yoongi isn’t as bad after all.

I'm getting camp here and there flashbacks

❥ Soft Things Yoongi Does

genre -> fluff

pairing -> bts Yoongi x reader

warnings -> nothing lol

word count -> 0.1k

summary -> thoughts expanded off this <3

• Writes songs about you but doesn’t ever release them. Wanting them to be for just you.

“Listen.” Yoongi says simply before setting the headphones on your head. Pressing a few buttons on his screen, you hear the soft melody for the first time. You sit and listen to it for three and a half minutes before it ends. “What do you think?” Yoongi asks taking the headphones off of you and gently setting them to the side. “I love it. It fits with the rest of the album.” You mumble. “That one’s not going in a bts album. It’s going in yours.”

• Calls you his muse.

“My muse. It’s too early to be out of bed.” Jumping at the suddenly contact you can feel Yoongi’s chest move as he laughs at the fact he scared you. “It’s nearly ten though.” You say leaning back against him. “You’ve never called me that before though.” He merely hums. “Well when you’ve inspired me for multiple years now I feel you deserve it. Math you should get those awards too.”

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 02: World Change

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, eventual smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,297

Tag List: @luxekook​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​, @vivpurple7​, @happilystrongthroughthedark​, @sw33tnight​, @nikkitane​,

AN: I hope everyone is enjoying the series so far. I know I’m getting these chapters out slowly, but I am also updating multiple fics at a time (as I’m sure you’re all aware). Please be patient with me. It will be worth the wait, I promise! If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” - Mahatma Gandhi

Yoon glanced over his shoulder, giving both Namgil and Bidam a look for them to remain in the hall with the other servants. They bowed their heads low as two attendants slid open the door to the King’s study, allowing the Crown Prince to enter. Once he crossed the threshold, the door slid closed and his eyes quickly adjusted to the various beams of light that slipped into the room. His father was seated at his dark oak wood desk, multi-colored scrolls and other documents stacked off to one side. He was in deep discussion with a man kneeling at his side. They didn’t appear to notice Yoon - at least not outwardly. But from all his training, the Crown Prince could sense how alert the stranger was despite his relaxed posture.

His eyes narrowed sharply at the man. He looks like a mountain brigand, but clearly he isn’t. Yoon pursed his lips together into a thin line. There is not a single vulnerable opening circling his entire person.

“Seja,” cut his father’s voice through his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the serious expression vacant from the King’s face as he motioned for Yoon to come forward. “Come, Crown Prince. There is someone I want you to meet.”

Bowing his head, he approached his father’s desk. He swiped the front of his robes to the side so he could sit properly. The other man shifted his position so that he was now facing Yoon, though still kneeling on the ground. Yoon trained his eyes on the stranger, denoting the scars on his arms and one near the jaw by his left ear. 

“This is my former bodyguard, Min Dojin,” explained the King as he rounded the desk to stand before Yoon, “and also a dear friend of mine. Dojin-ah, this is my son, Crown Prince Injong.”

Raising his brows, Yoon took another look at the man and everything made sense as to why his demeanor seemingly held no weaknesses. He’d heard stories about Dojin from his parents and even the Queen Dowager. There were servants that lived in the palace halls before his birth that also knew his name. The reasons circling his departure from the palace were surrounded in mystery. Bidam whispered tales of Dojin’s accomplishments, swearing that he would become as strong and well-known as the warrior upon his installment to becoming Yoon’s bodyguard. 

There were dozens of questions that flooded the Crown Prince’s mind, but he abstained from giving them a voice. Instead, he waited for Dojin to bow his head low to him and, out of general respect, Yoon gave a half bow to the warrior.

“It is an honor, Crown Prince Injong. I was there on the night of your birth and I’m pleased to see how well you have grown up.” Dojin’s voice was deep, rich, and full of sincerity. 

Yoon was immediately suspicious. “And I have heard many stories of your heroic exploits, Sir Min.” He smiled. “You will have to take a moment to share them with me while you are in the Capital.”

Dojin’s head remained lowered. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“Abba Mama,” Yoon lifted his face up to peer into the King’s eyes, “you have never summoned me to your study. I can only surmise that the reason is urgent?”

The King chuckled, leaning down to place a hand on his shoulder. “Not so much urgent as it is personal.”

I guessed as much, Yoon thought, mentally restraining his smirk from forming into a sneer. He waited for his father to visually motion toward him before standing. “Is everything alright, Father?”

“Everything is fine, Seja. Fret not.” He unfurled one of the silk scrolls, his eyes roving the parchment, before handing it to Yoon. “It’s time for you to involve yourself with public relations. Are you alright with this, Crown Prince?”

Taking the scroll, he quickly read over the decree before lifting his gaze to meet his father’s eyes. “But Father, this is--”

“Indeed, my Prince, it is.” There was something dancing behind the King’s eyes and Yoon was unsure of what that something was. “You are to depart as soon as a caravan has been formed. I assume you will only need a couple of days to prepare?”

Yoon’s eyes lingered on the scroll for a moment longer before he rolled it up and held it at his side. He bowed his head low. “That is more than enough time, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Seja,” his father responded. When Yoon lifted his head again, he saw a warm smile decorating his father’s visage. “I am counting on you to do well with this.”

This time, Yoon bowed deeply at the waist, his arm pressed gently against his stomach. “Your Majesty’s grace is immeasurable.”

He waited to be dismissed before pivoting on his heels just as the servants slid the doors open to allow him to enter the hall. Casting a sidelong glance to both his attendant and bodyguard, they lowered their heads. “Let’s go. We have much to prepare.”

They strode through the halls, exiting the main palace and traveling the stone path toward his own palace. Yoon pulled out the scroll and looked over it again, shifting only slightly as he felt Namgil and Bidam pressing against him on both sides. He grunted, speeding up his pace so they didn’t overcrowd him. It took them less than five seconds to do it all over again. Yoon gave up eventually.

“What is your assignment, Crown Prince?” Bidam peered over his shoulder. “And when do we leave?”

“We leave in two days and start preparations immediately.” Yoon rolled the scroll closed and stuffed it back into the confines of his sleeve. “We will depart between the hours of the Tiger and the Rabbit.”

Namgil grimaced. “Heavens above, that early?!”

Yoon was already mentally preparing himself for the journey. “The sooner we begin our journey, the sooner we can handle any obstacles that may impede our path.”

Bidam clutched the sheath of his sword. “Do you anticipate trouble, my Prince?”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “I always anticipate a problem to arise, Bidam-ah.” 

While his bodyguard smirked with the idea of traveling and potential excitement being thrown their way, it was Namgil who issued a whine that caused Yoon to loft a brow. “What troubles you, Namgil-ah?”

“Nothing, Your Highness,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck; his dark green robes fluttering as they walked, “I simply worry of what an arduous journey this will be. I have never traveled this far from home.”

“Well, we shall have our fortunes read before we depart,” Yoon replied, pressing a hand to his attendant’s shoulder, “she’s never steered us wrong before.”

“A foreign sorceress only breeds unrest, Your Highness.” The eunuch frowned. “I worry that she will one day take advantage of your trust and kindness.”

Scoffing, Bidam shrugged as he folded his arms across his chest. “It’s almost harrowing how accurate she is.” He looked to Yoon as they entered the archway of the Crown Prince’s palace. “Foresight aside, is she as powerful as the rumors say she is?”

“My father has always followed her guidance and has never been wrong. She’s been sincere with me and her affections are genuine.” Yoon paused, staring into the lake where the koi fish swam beneath the lotus blossoms. His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Kalina would never betray me.”

There was a distinct tension in the air that placed all of his entourage into silence. Some of the servants in the back were afraid to even breathe. After what felt like a handful of minutes, Yoon moved toward the entrance of his palace, stepping out of his shoes as two servant girls slid open the doors for him immediately. Crossing the room, he flung his robes back before falling into a seated position on the silk cushion situated behind his desk.

“Have a messenger fetch Kalina immediately.” Yoon rested his hands on his knees. “I believe she is due back from her travels any day now.”

“Yes, Crown Prince. Right away!” Namgil motioned to another young eunuch who immediately departed to do as he was told.

Yoon placed the scroll on his desk, unfurling it so that he could see the assignment given to him by his father. He would be traveling to Ming to speak with the Emperor himself. As he surmised, tensions between Ming and Japan were escalating. His duty was to play the liaison, creating a compromise that would benefit Joseon in the midst of an impending crisis.

A dark smirk played on his lips. He would give him no quarter.

Pulling out one of the drawers in his desk, he picked up the handcrafted pearl hairpin that he commissioned to have made from one of the palace’s royal artisans. The end was carved to look like a lotus blossom, the iridescent shine to the ornament granting it an otherworldly glow. 

Kalina, he thought, curling his fingers over the rod of the hairpin, how I long to have you in my arms again…

“I wish you would cease your squirming, Young Master. You are only making this ordeal take longer than it should.”

Yoongi frowned as he felt Kali’s slender fingers combing through his hair. He waited for her to finish taking measurements, then watched her remove a set of shears from her bag. He glared back at his reflection in the mirror as she began cutting his hair. 

“I have to be the only man in all of Joseon whose hair is this short.” He saw Kali toss him a pointed look into the mirror as he gazed into it. “You know it to be true.”

She sighed and shook her head, part of her raven hair falling about her shoulders in waves while the rest remained pinned up to the side. “I am simply doing what I have been told, Young Master. You are only delaying the inevitable.”

Groaning, he could only watch as his hair fell in small clumps around his knees. Before Kali entered their lives, his own father would cut his hair - ensuring that it was short, around his ears, and never long enough to be pulled into any kind of braid or top knot. As if the scar on Yoongi’s face wasn’t jarring enough, his own hairstyle stood out among the crowds in even their small village.

“I wish you would stop calling me that.” Kali paused her motions, her malachite eyes gazing back at Yoongi’s reflection. “I am no noble. There’s no need to call me Young Master, Kali-ssi.”

For a moment, all she did was stare at him through the mirror’s reflection. Her green eyes were a stark contrast to his own darker brown tones, but that wasn’t the only thing entrancing about her. Kali’s skin was brown, like fresh earth kissed by the rays of morning, and her heart-shaped face was perfectly symmetrical. Yoongi studied face reading for a time and he knew that everything from the arch of her brows to the cupid’s bow lips needled at perfection. Kali was a foreigner from the West, her homeland spanning deserts and forests and wild animals. Nestled beneath her exotic perfection was a wealth of power that Yoongi could never hope to begin to understand.

Kali was a foreigner. She was also a sorceress. 

Yoongi loved every single square inch of her and beyond.

The troubling part was how he never had the heart to voice his feelings aloud. To himself or to her. Because he was a nobody and while Kali rarely spoke of her own personal affairs, he knew that he was far beneath her.

Suddenly, he felt Kali’s cheek press against his temple, her nails gently gliding along the back of his head and down the column of his neck. His heart thundered in his chest immediately.

“K-Kali-ssi,” he stammered, her hands gliding through his cropped hair to rid it of loose tendrils, “what’s wrong?” She was only ever this hands on when she felt she had to tell him something.

“Sweet Yoongi,” she gently framed his face with her hands, “sometimes I think you are too good for this world.”

Yoongi blinked into her green eyes, entranced by them. “What do you mean?”

“When I think about the road you will travel, it hurts my heart so terribly.” Kali’s brows furrowed and a soft sheen appeared in her eyes. “You are the shadow that deserves the light. It is your destiny and I wish that I could take you far away from it.”

He felt confusion swirling inside of his chest. Kali often spoke like this from time to time. But in all the years he’d known her, he could not remember a time when it sounded so ominous. Yoongi learned, however, never to press her too hard in her cryptic words. The response was almost always damaging, both to her and the area around her.

Feeling his body moving, he gasped when his cheek was pressed against her chest. Kali’s arms wrapped themselves around him, as if protecting him from some unknown force. He felt her chin fall atop the crown of his head and all he could do was cradle her elbow as the sound of her heartbeat reverberated in his ears.

Something is troubling her greatly, he thought, his fingers pressing into the silk sleeves of her robe, and there is nothing I can do to ease her mind.

Her arms pulled him just a little bit closer to her and Yoongi reminded himself to breathe.

“The tiger walks proudly in the sunlight. His ambition and arrogance will harm those whom he is meant to protect. But his unquenchable thirst will place him on the path to madness.” Kali’s voice sounded so far away. “When the tiger loses itself to madness is when you will step out from the shadows.” 

Yoongi swallowed the lump in his throat. She was in that place she often went to. That place he didn’t understand. The Veil was what she called it. 

Her voice made his ears ring and he closed his eyes tightly. “Kali-ssi, I don’t understand what--”

“This tiger is you, but not you. You will face him and be forced to make a choice. Whichever choice you make will cause you great pain. You cannot avoid it.” She pulled back, once again framing his face in her palms and forcing him to look into her hypnotic eyes. “But you, Young Master, the one raised in the ditch, will soar from the earth as a grand dragon.”

His eyes widened as all moisture vacated his mouth. What she was insinuating was madness by itself. The tiger’s insanity was a minor thing compared to the heresy spilling from Kali’s lips. She may have been a foreigner and a sorceress, but if anyone else heard her utter such prophecies, she would be killed immediately.

“You mustn’t say such things,” desperation seeped from Yoongi’s throat. His hands trembled as he gripped onto her wrists. “Your words are outrageous and will get you beheaded!”

Kali’s eyes narrowed and she peered deep into his own umber tones. “I speak only the truth, Young Master. Those who fear the truth merely delude themselves into believing they can escape it. The paths of destiny were forged long before you or I were born into this world.”

Yoongi shook his head roughly back and forth. Tears leaked from his eyes as he all but threw himself into Kali’s arms. If what she spoke was, indeed, the truth, then he wanted to live a lie. He wanted to find a way to escape that truth and bask in the greatest lie that could ever be told. 

Again, the sorceress placed comforting arms around his shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She hummed softly, a tune he was unfamiliar with but one that calmed his rattling nerves. He felt like a child being comforted by a mother, but also like a man who was receiving a lover’s caress to chase the darkness away.

“Have no fear, my gentle Young Master.” Kali smiled and petted the back of his head. “You will not have to face this mad tiger. Not yet. When the people cry tears of blood, when they wail to the heavens for salvation? That will be the time when you must face this tiger.”

He was confused. He didn’t understand why it had to be him. He was nothing. He was nobody. All Yoongi could do was pray that Kali was seeing a possible future. One that would never come to pass. 

“I will protect you. I, Shuri Kalina, will protect you with everything that I am.” She pressed a kiss to his temple and he breathed in her scent of nutmeg and jasmines. “I promise you, sweet dragon.”

Yoongi sobbed. It was a sob that he could no longer suppress. Because he understood the weight of her words; the true meaning behind them. Kali, the woman who seemingly never aged in all the years he’d known her, was making a declaration to him. A bold one, at that. One that he could not even pray to have been a lie. There was so much truth in her words that it hurt to listen to them. But he had no choice but to hear her proclamation to him. 

Not as a woman to a man. But as a servant to their master.

AN: For those who are curious, a couple of things to note. Crown Princes have the name they are born with and a "rank/title" name. This is considered a "disciple" name that is acknowledged and referenced by others in historical records. In this case, Lee Yoon's Crown Prince "name" is Injong. Also, it was also common for "time" to be labeled using the Zodiac Calendar or the Chinese Calendar. So each zodiac animal is used for the twelve hour marks - 2 hours for every hour.

A Single Daffodil Masterlist

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Chapter 1 3.25.24

Chapter 2 4.1.24

Chapter 3 4.21.24

Chapter 4 5.15.24

Chapter 5 7.20.24

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

...

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

A Single Daffodil || 2

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 9.1K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hi everyone! it's currently exactly 2am for me lol but I wanted to get this chapter out today! i was hoping to having the wedding happen but I like it more for the next chapter. all the support has been so overwhelming and amazing, thank you guys so much for all the love!! i appreciate it so much and I'm grateful that you all are so supportive, especially for my first ever fic. i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! also, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling

previous / masterlist / next

You could feel your eyes glazing over with the amount of time you’d spent staring at your computer screen. A quick glance at the clock showed that only a couple hours had passed since you’d arrived at work, and a devastating thirty minutes remained until your lunch break. Rubbing at your tired eyes, you tried to find the energy to resume reviewing the materials your team had sent you, but you came up short. 

The wedding planning had been taking a lot out of you the past couple of months, even though your mother wasn’t letting you decide anything for it anyway. She had been quite clear that all you had to do was show up and that your input wouldn’t be needed. You couldn’t honestly say you had an issue with that, this didn’t feel like your wedding anyway. If it were yours, you would’ve been getting married to someone you love, and crucially, someone who loves you in return.

But that wasn’t in the cards for you and you knew that well, so you went along with your mother’s planning placidly, agreeing to almost everything she mentioned and getting ignored on things you didn’t. It left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It felt like an out-of-body experience every time your mother pulled you into another appointment for your dress fittings or makeup and hair test runs. You could feel yourself simply going through the motions and just waiting until the appointment was done so you could return to your mundane life. 

Not much else had changed, honestly. You were still working, hanging out with your friends on occasion, reading in bed, and watching television in the evenings. The only thing looming over you was the date of the wedding, now only six months away. It felt like an omen, always hovering near you, spiking your heart rate, and making you sweat. 

Even your team had noticed your heightened anxiety and expressed their worries to you, especially the youngest, Choi Song Ha. She was a cute, young thing, a fresh face in the industry that you had quickly taken under your wing once you had set eyes on her in the new recruit orientation you visited just over a year ago now. You knew just how quickly the gaming industry ate up and spat out women like clockwork and you didn’t want the same fate for her, so you’d snatched her up into your team. She truly felt like the little sister you’d never had and your bond quickly grew over the months since you’d met. She had picked up on your dampened mood and resolved to leave you small treats of a chip bag or chocolates on your desk every other day or so as a means to cheer you up. She knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t appreciate outright signs of concern or making a scene at work, and you loved her for it. 

She had left you a small red ginseng jelly this morning with a doodle of a grumpy cat stuck to it on a post-it note. It made you smile every time you glanced at it.

It kind of reminded you of Yoongi. The two of you hadn’t talked since that night in the restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to talk to him. Your mother had given you his number and you’d saved it, but you hadn’t made any move to message him.

“Team leader?”

You turned, snapping out of your daze to face another one of your team members, Yeonsik. 

“Yes, Yeonsik,” you responded, trying to appear calm and collected, and not like you were just thinking about your soon-to-be husband who hates you.

“We have the materials from the character graphics department for Plan C ready, it’s in your inbox now. They said that they’re ready to make any changes you want, but they’re worried about the deadline for the second draft,” Yeonsik rambled. He was a nice man, only a few years younger than you, and quite passionate about his job since joining your team two years back, just after you’d become the team lead of Planning Group 1. He had a handsome face with longer, dark hair and bright eyes that were eager to please.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. Also, good job on keeping Graphics 2 on track, I know they’ve been giving us a hard time with getting the updated designs over. Thanks again,” you said politely, sending him a small smile. Yeonsik beamed in response and returned to his seat happily. You chuckled fondly at his antics before opening the file he’d sent. You loved your team members and you held a high respect for them. You knew you led them well and that they respected you in return. It was a small team, consisting of only five people, including you, but you were content with the group and the dynamic. You often went out for drinks together after work, usually followed by karaoke and at least one member passing out, most often Yeonsik, who would then be picked up by his boyfriend. You were a close-knit group and you couldn’t imagine a better job.

Slowly, Mrs. Min’s words crept back into your mind at the thought of how much you loved your position. Surely, Yoongi wouldn’t expect you to quit your job? You wouldn’t be able to bear it. 

No, he said that he would do his thing and you would do yours, you reminded yourself. That’s right, you’d agreed that you wouldn’t interfere in each other’s lives. Except, you hadn’t really agreed, had you? You’d just acquiesced because he’d been in the motion of leaving anyway. You weren’t really sure if that’s what you’d wanted, living separate lives and being married only on paper. 

Yoongi’s words rang clear in your head as you gnawed on your lower lip, was this really how this marriage was going to be? The two of you not even acknowledging each other except at galas and parties where you had to appear married? You didn’t want that.

But…if Yoongi did, how much say did you really have? As much as you wanted to make this work, it had to be a two-way street. If Yoongi didn’t want anything to do with you, you would have to accept that and just try to get through this the best you could. You had said to Joohee that day you’d found out, that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. 

It felt painful to come to terms with, especially in the environment of your office where you still had to appear professional. Thankfully, you breathed, none of your team members had noticed your mini-mental breakdown. 

Your phone buzzed with a new message from Yujin, your mother’s assistant.

From Yang Yujin

Hello Miss Y/N,

Your mother has asked me to confirm your three attendees for your wedding invitations. The invitations will be sent out on Friday night, so please send your three names with their contact information and address to me by then. If possible, please send it at least one day beforehand as Mrs. Seo would like to review them before I send the invitations out.

Additionally, she has set up another meeting for you with Mr. Min Yoongi on Friday, at 6 pm. Please find the location details below.

Please let me know if you need any other information,

Yang Yujin

You sighed, reading over the email again. For one, you honestly didn’t even know who you’d want to invite. You didn’t really have that many friends outside of Joohee, your colleagues, and Jung Hoseok, your friend from college. You knew that Joohee would already be invited, but you weren’t sure about Hoseok. He wasn’t a part of the same social circle as you and Joohee, especially since he didn’t come from a richer family, but you’d met him in college and introduced him to Joohee soon after. The three of you had been practically inseparable during your undergrad but after graduation, the three of you hadn’t met up in person in a while, with Hoseok in Busan for work. You tapped your chin thoughtfully with the eraser end of a pencil, maybe you should send an invite to Hoseok. Suddenly, another thought occurred to you, making the pencil drop from your fingers and onto your lap.

You hadn’t even told Hoseok about Yoongi!

“Damn,” you muttered, making a mental note to call him later today. You’d figure out the other invites later. Your eyes drifted to the second part of the email. 

Another meeting, huh? It sounds like it’ll be just the two of us this time. I wonder if he’ll be any different.

A rap of knuckles against your desk brought your attention back in front of you. Song Ha stood beside your chair, looking at you curiously, “It’s lunch, Team Leader. Want to grab something with the team downstairs?”

Shit, you had agreed to grab lunch with Joohee today. 

“No, Miss Choi, I’ll be meeting a friend of mine. But you all enjoy your lunch!”

“Alright, have fun!”

The team slowly filed out, discussing amongst themselves what they’d get from the cafeteria today. You almost longed to go with them, but you knew you had to tell Joohee about the email you got. 

You could feel a headache coming on. 

Sighing, you stood and gathered your things into your tote bag, never having liked purses, and started the walk towards the elevators to reach the quaint cafe across the street you and Joohee liked to frequent. 

You had arrived before Joohee, which was to be expected with your office right across and decided to grab a table for both of you. Setting your tote bag in the seat beside you, you read the email once more on your phone. It dragged another sigh out of you before you almost jumped into the air at the sound of Joohee’s voice.

“What’s got you so melancholy?’

You breathed out to calm your heart rate from the mini jumpscare and looked up at her. She was dressed a bit more formal than you in a light blue blouse and dark navy dress pants that fell gracefully in silk around her long legs with a maroon purse hanging from her shoulder. Her office was much more formal than yours, working under her father. Your own office often had team leaders and higher-ups in jeans, the nature of your work making it more casual, so you contrasted her in a simple black sweatshirt and blue jeans. 

“I have to meet Yoongi again on Friday.”

“God damn.”

You nodded somberly as she took her seat across from you, “You remember what happened last time? Why does it feel like he’s gonna eat me alive this time?”

Joohee looked at you suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You recoiled, shooting her a glare, “Good God, woman, not like that.”

Joohee relented, waving her hands in surrender, “Okay, well, assume he’ll be the same. Then you won’t be caught off guard. But I think you should still try to get through to him. Maybe, at the very least, you guys can become friends.”

You hummed in agreement, what she was saying made sense. You weren’t exactly hoping for a rom-com drama-like romantic relationship, but being friends wouldn’t be so bad. 

A waiter arrived, taking your drink and food orders, and you and Joohee fell back into easy conversation about your jobs and other small gossip. As much as you were trying to pay attention to what Joohee was saying, you couldn’t help your mind returning to Yoongi and his dark eyes scrutinizing you and his cold, biting voice. 

“Y/N?”

You focused back into Joohee and her concerned stare dug into you, “What?”

“Are you still thinking about Yoongi?”

You nodded, looking away. You felt bad for not listening to her especially when she had basically given you a solution to your anxiety regarding Friday. You heard her sigh before speaking. 

“Listen, Y/N, you can’t stop how he’s going to behave towards you. You can only control how you respond. I think your best bet is to try to tell him you’re not expecting him to treat you like a wife, but you want him to treat you like a friend. Unless that isn’t what you want.”

“No, it is,” you said, keeping yourself from burying your head in your hands, “And you’re right, that’s all I can do. Why didn’t you become a therapist, again?”

Joohee only grinned in response, “I’m too pretty.”

Joohee’s words from earlier echoed in your head for the rest of the workday. Did you really want him to treat you like a friend? Or something more?

You weren’t sure. Of course, you had this half-crush, half-infatuation with the man since you’d met him when you were younger, but marriage was a totally different game. Were you really ready to spend the rest of your life with a man you were attracted to but he couldn’t feel the same? 

Maybe he could.

You knocked that thought away as soon as it entered your mind, you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. You knew that Yoongi was less than happy about the situation and the unfavorable circumstances would only serve to further distance him from you. You would have to be okay with just being friends if that. 

As you paced around your apartment later that night, you stopped in front of your dresser in your bedroom. In the third drawer from the top was the handkerchief that Yoongi had given you when you were younger. You had kept it meaning to give it back to him, but you had barely seen him since then, let alone had a moment in private to give it to him. 

Most of your interactions had been minimal conversations at parties and galas, often accompanied by Joohee and Seokjin. You couldn’t recall a time when Yoongi had actually talked to you directly in any of those scenarios. So why did your crush persist?

Maybe it was the innocence of your first meeting, the cliche of it all. You, small, sad, and alone, and Yoongi, showing up like your knight in shining armor. You had had a fascination with him since then, always trying to seek out his silhouette or pitch-black hair at gatherings afterward. Yet, he never approached you alone, nor did you make an attempt to do so yourself. You had called it an infatuation with Joohee because it really was, you didn’t really know anything about him, much less had a full conversation with him. Even when you were in a group with him, Seokjin, and Joohee, he would barely acknowledge you. 

Not that he was obligated to.

You fell back onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the mattress. Would you be able to survive actually getting to know Yoongi? Your greatest fear was that you would fall in love with him, you were basically already primed for it. And that would not work out, you knew that, and you refused to consider any other outcome.

You couldn’t afford to get your hopes up.

Turning on your side, you could feel your thoughts drift to your few interactions with him growing up. He had always been polite, but cold. The most he’d said to you was a curt greeting and the barest of small talk. The only other interactions you’d really had were your first meeting and hearing about his escapades through the grapevine, mainly Joohee. Nonetheless, you found yourself infatuated, your eyes finding his slightly round cheeks and pouty lips inevitably. What would life be like once you got married?

You tried to imagine yourself in a domestic setting with Yoongi but quickly shut that down, that would only bring up unwanted feelings. You considered whether or not he would continue seeing other people after you were married. Joohee had said it was very possible. Would you be able to handle it? Joohee had suggested that you fool around a bit yourself but you had quickly dismissed that. Cheating was something you would never tolerate in a relationship, from the other person or from yourself. You knew that the reality would be different in your situation, but you still refused to let yourself stray from Yoongi.

Not that you hadn’t tried in the past. You had been in only two relationships leading up to now, one in college and another as a short burst after graduation. It all felt pointless when you knew you wouldn’t get to choose who you spent the rest of your life with. It was an agony that, along with other factors, ended both of your relationships. Mina had been a bright spot in your life, but she couldn’t deal with the fact that you were not only not out to your parents, but that you would likely not be able to be with her long term anyway. There had been other signs that the relationship wouldn’t work out, and you had tried to remain friends but it didn’t pan out past college. 

The relationship after college that had only lasted a few months was with Jaehyun, a sweet man who had been your coworker at your first job out of college. He was very kind to you and you felt comfortable in his presence, but you couldn’t handle the guilt of going out with him while knowing he wouldn’t be the one you marry. To his credit, he had been very understanding when you’d broken down in front of him in a guilt-fueled spiral. He’d held you until you calmed down, wiped your tears, and squeezed you tight before leaving, stating that you could always call him if you needed anything. You still messaged him sometimes, and you remained firm that if you did get to choose who to marry, he would be your first choice. 

The arranged marriage had been looming over your life since you were old enough to understand the importance of status to your family. You were sure Yoongi’s family was the same. You were both expected to keep your duty to your family, a repayment for the comfortable life you both had lived. Once or twice you had considered telling your parents you wouldn’t go through with it when the time came, but you knew that it would only result in you having to pay them back for everything they had ever given money towards for you. Even though you’d gotten multiple scholarships for college, your parents insisted you go to a prestigious university that rarely gave any money to their students because they knew their parents would have wide-open wallets. There was no way you’d ever be able to pay that back in your lifetime, especially with your current job. 

So you were stuck. But you knew you weren’t really all that unhappy. While the circumstances weren’t what you preferred, you couldn’t deny the small excitement that you felt at the prospect of being able to have a relationship with Yoongi. The caveat to that was also knowing that he was an entirely unwilling participant in this situation, which wasn’t really going to work to your advantage. You were set on remaining a realist, refusing to consider the idea that Yoongi might come to love you. It felt like you didn’t have much of any other choice. Everything about this entire situation made you feel like a passive observer, someone with no impact or voice, which wasn’t far from the truth. You imagined Yoongi was much the same.

Distantly, you wondered how many people Yoongi was allowed to invite to the wedding.

Speaking of! You had almost forgotten to call Hoseok, and it was getting late. You scrambled to reach for your phone, stretching your arm out to the nightstand where your phone sat, and grasping it. Dialing his number, you registered how low his contact was on your recent calls. You really needed to call him more often. Hitting his contact, you waited for the ringing to start. He answered rather quickly, which surprised you, as he was usually an early sleeper.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has. I missed you. Hobi,” you said, not realizing how much you meant it until the words left your mouth. It really had been too long since you’d called.

“What’s up? You don’t sound too happy. Is everything okay,” he questioned, and your heart warmed at his concerned nature. He was always able to read you well, better than Joohee sometimes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine I guess. I’m getting married, actually.”

The other end of the line was silent for a bit before you heard Hoseok let out a breath and speak, “Oh, wow. Okay. How are you feeling?”

You choked out a laugh, “You’re not even asking who I’m marrying?”

“Well, I know that it’s not someone you chose. So I want to know how you’re doing. When did you find out?”

Your laughter died at his serious nature, your attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, “About two months ago. The wedding’s in around six. Want an invite? I get a whole three guests of my own choosing.”

He chuckled softly at that, “Of course I do, you know I’ll be there. But seriously, how are you feeling about this?”

You almost sighed at his unwillingness to let you escape his question, “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t. I think I’m weirdly at peace with it? I’ve been expecting it for so long and now it’s finally happening. Plus, it being Min Yoongi isn’t exactly the worst thing ever.”

You could hear his surprise over the phone, “Min Yoongi? Like your crush of almost two decades, Min Yoongi?”

You groaned, responding, “Jeez, way to remind me how old I am. Yes, that Min Yoongi. He’s definitely not as okay with it as I am though.”

“What do you mean?”

You recounted the past meeting with his family to Hoseok while he patiently listened and interrupted occasionally to provide his own thoughts. When you finished, you could practically see him falling back against his desk chair, exhaling a burst of air. 

“Well, that’s a lot.”

You let out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s been my life for the past couple of months.”

“I think Joohee gave you some good advice. I’d probably say something similar to you. Try to make the most of the situation but don’t expect a lot from him. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, enough about me, how are you doing? How’s work?”

Hosek launched into recapping how busy the dance school he taught at had been lately and the gossip surrounding his coworkers. You felt yourself relax more into the conversation and slowly forget your troubling feelings surrounding Yoongi. 

You would deal with those come Friday. 

It was Friday. You made sure to leave work a bit early, giving you enough time to run back to your apartment to change and look presentable. You had chosen your outfit with Joohee’s help the night prior. You were meeting at a relatively fancy restaurant but it was more of a bar, so you didn’t want to be too formal. You had opted for a green dress with a small flower print since you were coming off the winter months into spring. Your dress was an A-line cocktail dress with a square neckline and puffed sleeves that cinched at your wrist. You’d had it for a while and knew how it looked on you, and you knew you would feel comfortable in it tonight. The last thing you needed weighing on your mind was getting in your head about how you looked, which you usually felt nauseous from. 

With it approaching six, you quickly finished up some minimal makeup, topped it off with a lip tint, and tried your best to make your hair look presentable after what was a long day of work. A glance at your watch told you that you didn’t have much time left, so you rushed to your car, almost forgetting your small purse, and started your drive over to the restaurant. You didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression on Yoongi, although you didn’t know if his impression of you could get any worse. 

After you arrived and were sat at your table, you checked your phone to see the time and were relieved to note that you were a couple of minutes early. You felt yourself relax into the booth and started taking slow, calming breaths to slow down your racing heartbeat. The adrenaline of trying to get to the restaurant on time was starting to fade and you took another glance at your watch. 

6:06

Well, that’s fine. He’s probably just a little late, you tried to reassure yourself, but you had a sinking feeling. As the minutes marched on, the sinking feeling grew deeper, and you could feel yourself growing slightly annoyed. 

6:29

Well, whatever.

You took out your phone from your purse and decided to message him. It should be reasonable, right? You had scheduled this beforehand, after all. Well, not you, your mother, but still, the principle held. 

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, this is Seo Y/N. I’m waiting at the restaurant at the moment 

and I was wondering if you were alright, since you weren’t here yet? Please let me know if you’d like to reschedule instead.

You winced at how the text message sounded more like an email between colleagues, but you weren’t sure how casual you were supposed to be with him. Before you could mull over the tone of your message more, you hit the send button and bit your lip as you waited for a response. Your fingers began to pick at your dress in a nervous habit and you kept your eyes trained on the restaurant entrance in case you spotted him. 

Finally, at 6:42, you saw the head of black hair that had haunted your dreams as of late. He walked in calmly, looking slightly disheveled, but his lax pace didn’t betray anything about his tardy entrance. He looked infuriatingly attractive in a well-fitted suit with the tie loosened and the top couple of buttons undone. His eyes met yours as the hostess led him to your table and you smiled politely at him, receiving only a cursory nod in return. The waitress quickly approached as he sat down across from you and took his drink order, two fingers of whisky, while you asked for more water. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink, more that you needed to keep your wits about you for this dinner and alcohol would only make you feel nauseous in your already anxious state.

With the waitress gone, he turned to you and you felt yourself flush automatically, something you internally cursed. You wished he didn’t have such an effect on you. He declined to say anything, so you took a moment to take in his appearance now that he was much closer to you. 

You could see that his collar was more rumpled than you initially thought and his hair a bit more mussed. You saw a small mark just barely visible from beneath his white button-up, above his tie. Now that he was much closer, you could smell a faint scent of a sweet perfume that you knew wasn’t yours since you had only worn a very light citrus one. 

Oh. He was with someone else. Why does that bother me so much?

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice lulling you out of your trance of staring at the mark on his chest, “Sorry I’m late. I saw your text, but I was driving. To be completely honest, I forgot about this.”

For a moment, his apology surprised you. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to apologize. Maybe you’d built him up to be this cartoon villain in your head after your last interaction, but you’d forgotten that he was human just like you. 

“That’s alright, it’s no problem,” you responded kindly, noting the way his eyebrow slightly furrowed at your response, “How was your day?”

He raised an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner, “Are you really going to do small talk with me?”

You let out an embarrassed laugh at your failure to engage him and tried for a new tactic instead, “Okay, what would you like to talk about then?”

“I want to set some ground rules.”

Your surprise must’ve shown on your face because you saw the way his expression almost changed to amusement. You quickly shook off the abruptness of the statement and nodded your head, “Okay, like what?”

“First, you’ll be moving into my apartment. I’m sure your mother already told you,” you nodded, “Do not enter my bedroom or office without knocking. I’ll extend the same courtesy to you. Second, we keep our lives separate. Unless we need to appear at an event together, we shouldn’t be mingling our private lives, including friends, work, things like that. Thirdly, this marriage is going to be on paper only. Don’t expect me to treat you like my girlfriend, or my wife, because we both know that’s not what this is.”

You felt your teeth take in your bottom lip as you considered his words, “Okay, that’s fine, I guess.” You couldn’t really stop him from wanting to do that, but it still hurt some. Any hopes you had of getting a normal romantic relationship after this were quickly dashed by his next rule.

“Lastly, I want this to be open. Our parents aren’t pressuring us for kids, so we can both find relief elsewhere. We both know this is only for increased stocks and influence in our respective companies. So, I do whatever I want and you do whatever you want in that regard, and we don’t interfere in each other’s love lives.”

You felt your face fall a bit, but you tried to control your expression. You had prepared for this, Joohee had prepared you for this. So why were you still so upset? He’s giving you the go-ahead to find whoever you want, so it’s not technically cheating. So why does it still feel so wrong?

“Okay,” you said uneasily, “That’s all okay.” It felt like you were saying it more for yourself than for him. 

His eyebrow quirked once more. They were very expressive, you noticed. 

“That’s it? You don’t have any rules of your own you want to add in?”

Your hands clenched onto the edge of the booth seat, needing something to ground you. Rules of your own? Your head was swimming with everything that had just happened, you could barely think of anything else, “No, none I want to add.”

Yoongi leaned back and clasped his hands, “Alright then. Shall we eat? My dad’s technically paying so eat all you want.”

You shakily took hold of the menu you’d already looked over a hundred times while waiting for him, not wanting to appear rude by being on your phone. You had already chosen what dish you wanted when Yujin had sent you the restaurant name, a habit of yours being to look up the menu beforehand to choose. The waitress approached and took your orders, taking the menu from your hands, leaving you with nothing to grasp your quivering fingers onto. 

You looked over at Yoongi, seeing him on his phone, scrolling. You felt yourself blanch at the blatant disregard and couldn’t find it in yourself to try and start a conversation. 

The minutes passed by slowly, and you were barely relieved when the food came, providing momentary respite by giving you something to do. You felt like you’d never been in a more awkward situation. The waitress quickly refilled both your drinks, and you noted that Yoongi had ordered water this time. It must be because he’s driving. 

Soon, the both of you finished your food, in utter silence. The waitress, who was quite on top of her game, swiftly provided the bill and told you to take your time. You had a feeling she felt the awkward tension as much as you did.

Once the bill was paid, you and Yoongi walked out towards the parking lot where he started shifting to move in the direction of his car before you blurted out, “Wait!”

He turned, facing you with a bored expression, waiting for you to finish speaking.

“I do have a rule actually.”

Seeming slightly intrigued now, he gestured for you to continue.

“I want us to try and be friends. Please.”

He seemed slightly surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows lifted slightly and his mouth parted. Collecting himself, he looked directly into your eyes, his dark orbs boring into your own, “No. I want us to keep our lives completely separate. We’re not friends.”

With that, he turned around and walked to his car, not sparing you another glance. 

“Wow, what an asshole.”

You hummed lazily in agreement, feeling your head lull. You were already a bottle deep in more cheap Moscato with Joohee, as well as a couple of shots of strawberry soju. 

“I know right! I agreed to whatever he said, why couldn’t he agree with the one thing I asked for?”

Joohee winced and prepared herself for your buzzed anger that was sure to flare up at her next statement, “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It did conflict with his other rule. Not that I think he’s justified either. There shouldn’t be a problem in being friends.”

Your head snapped towards her, seeing it as a defensive move for Yoongi in your half-drunken state, but before you could find the energy to get upset, you felt yourself melt further into the couch, “Yeah, you’re right, I guess. Whatever, I don’t need him. I’ll just fuck anyone who looks my way, instead.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” you cried, collapsing onto the pillow beside you, squeezing it tight, “Why am I so pathetic?”

“You’re not,” Joohee cooed, “You’re just in a shitty situation. So is he, but at least you’re not being a dick about it.”

You nodded glumly, still not feeling better about the situation. As you cradled the now-empty wine bottle to your chest, you remembered Hoseok.

“Oh yeah, I invited Hobi for the wedding. My coworker, Song Ha too. Can you believe I couldn’t think of a third person?”

Joohee laughed before throwing herself onto the couch with you, “Hey, you don’t need other friends, you have me. Besides, we’ll all be together again, then! It feels like forever since we’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, I told him and he said the same stuff as you. To try and make the best of it, or whatever,” you could feel yourself becoming less and less sober, “Can I crash here tonight?”

“Of course, do you want me to wash your dress for you?”

“No, I’ll just do it at my place. Thank God I have you.”

Joohee only laughed loudly in response, getting up to grab another bottle of soju from the fridge. The two of you lounged around before moving to watch TV in Joohee’s bed where she promptly fell asleep. Soothed by her snoring, you relaxed into her comfortable mattress and traced the light extrusions on her ceiling. Your thoughts soon drifted to Yoongi, as they seemed to do often these days. 

Was he really fair in rejecting your friendship? Joohee had made a good point earlier in that it certainly conflicted with his rule of ignoring each other outside of obligated functions. But…you didn’t want that. So why did you agree? In the moment, it hadn’t really felt like you’d had another choice. You seemed to be feeling like that a lot lately. 

Yoongi seemed serious about this marriage being for business only and you knew that you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t exactly tell him as such. You couldn’t be more sure that he would only be disgusted if he heard you say that and you didn’t think you’d be able to survive seeing that kind of emotion on his face when it’s directed towards you. 

Not that you’d be able to survive this marriage either. 

Your fingers toyed with the frayed hem of the sleep shorts you’d borrowed from Joohee, a frequent occurrence whenever you stayed over, and you saw her shift in her sleep. She really had been so supportive throughout this whole thing. 

Maybe you should go to her brother for help? No, Yoongi would probably hate that. 

You resisted the urge to kick your feet in frustration out of fear of waking up Joohee. This was so difficult, it was next to impossible to figure out what your next move should be. 

You had a nagging feeling that your mother wouldn’t force you to meet up with Yoongi anymore before the wedding, but why did that not feel like a clear-cut win? Did you want to meet with Yoongi again?

Rubbing at your eyes frantically, you pushed aside the flurry of questions stirring inside you. You didn’t have time to deal with this. There was a large project at work that was in its final stages that you needed your full attention on and then the final beta tests before the official launch, just weeks before your wedding. You couldn’t afford to spend another moment thinking about Yoongi. 

As you got more comfortable in Joohee’s bed, you turned your head to face the clock on her bedside table, reading 3:09 AM. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you forced your eyes closed to try and get some rest. 

You had an inkling that Yoongi would be occupying your thoughts whether you wanted it or not. 

“We’ll be meeting for the rehearsal dinner in one week, Yujin will send you the information and instructions. Don’t be late.”

Your mother’s voice cut off after that, not bothering to say goodbye before ending the call. You could feel your headache coming back and you fumbled for your water bottle before getting up to grab a red ginseng packet from the breakroom. Things had been a lot lately. 

The final preparations for the wedding were underway and your mother was leaving nothing to chance. Your dress had been fitted to perfection with your mother sending you a strict diet and workout plan to make sure you stayed the exact same size until the wedding. That email had been swiftly archived. 

You weren’t even sure of who was in your bridal party other than Joohee being your maid of honor. Not that it mattered. This wedding wasn’t for you anyway. 

As you slowly sucked out the paste from the ginseng packet, leaning against the break room counter, you wondered if Yoongi had had to go through similar procedures, though likely less extensive. You hadn’t heard from him since that dinner where he’d firmly placed a boundary between you, but he’d rarely left your mind since. You’d hoped that the reality check with Yoongi might help clear you of your feelings for him, but, instead, they only deepened your desire to get to know him better, to break past that boundary. But you knew that those ideas were merely fairy tales and this marriage was not going to be one by any means. 

Distantly, you wondered how the ceremony would go. The two of you hadn’t prepared any vows, nor were you expected to. This wedding was not a show of love and everyone knew that. Your parents weren’t concerned with making it appear as though you and Yoongi were a loving couple, no, this wedding was more of an excuse to show off their wealth and influence. Your nuptials were merely a byproduct. Still, would you have to kiss Yoongi?

You quickly shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the mental image, feeling your cheeks flush hot. Yet, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You imagined his lips would be soft and gentle, that he would lead you through the kiss and deepen it for more. His hands would come to rest at your waist before encircling it, pulling you closer, flush, to his body. 

No! You can’t imagine that, you’re not allowed!

Internally, you scoffed. What kind of girl wasn’t allowed to imagine kissing her fiance? You knew the truth, however, that it wasn’t your place to imagine yourself in that position. That was reserved for the person he loved, who was, decidedly, not you. 

Tossing the packet, you made your way back to your way back to your desk. Settling into the pillowed surface of your chair, you browsed through your emails before noticing one from the marketing team.

From: limheesungmarketing1@okgaming.com

RE: MIRA’S AWAKENING Influencer Advertising

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided that we would like to reach out to online influencers and streamers to assist in promoting Project Mira’s Awakening. A list of possible candidates is attached, along with their profiles and viewer analytics. We would like your input on any public figures you believe may be good candidates for this endeavor. Please reach out if you and your team come up with any candidates that are not already included in the attached file.

Additionally, we would like to create merchandise to provide for these public figures and we need to confirm with you and Graphics Team 2 on graphics we can include on merchandise items. You will find a list of items we are looking to make, along with graphics suggestions, attached as well. Please coordinate with GT 2 to send over finalized ideas and start creating the images.

Thank you,

Team Leader Lim

You considered the contents, feeling the eraser of your pencil tap against your lip, who could you suggest? You had your favorite streamers, but none aligned that well with the nature of the game you were producing, which meant the viewer base wouldn’t have enough crossover with your target audience. Running through a list of the streamers you watched regularly in your head, you stopped at one in particular. 

Goldenboy97. 

Jeon Jeongguk was quite popular and played enough combat-based games to have sufficient audience crossover, while still being intriguing for the puzzle aspect of the game. Not that you were biased, but he was your favorite creator at the moment. You jotted down his handle and a note to ask the rest of your team about their thoughts. 

Leaning back in your chair, you stared blankly at the screen as the emails continued flooding in. Slowly, but surely, your thoughts drifted back to the phone call with your mother. The wedding was next week, with the rehearsal dinner only being seven days away. 

You felt a strange combination of dread and giddiness, a swirl of emotional turmoil you weren’t ready to unpack. Hoseok was coming back tonight and you were picking him up from the train station. You’d probably have time to process your emotions then. Hoseok was staying at your apartment in the guest bedroom for a couple of weeks so he could be there through the whole wedding process. He had also mentioned looking for an apartment to move into in Seoul, which made you excited. You really wanted to have the college dream team together again.

The thoughts of the actual wedding were stoking your nerves, you still hadn’t talked to Yoongi since the last time you’d met. You weren’t sure of the protocol or if you should try to talk to him beforehand, especially about the ceremony. Too cowardly to act on your anxiety, you shut off your opened messaging app on your phone. You weren’t keen on finding out how Yoongi would respond to an unprompted message. 

The sound of your team packing up alerted you to the time, being slightly past five. You joined them in getting ready to leave before heading to the elevator. The rest of the group trekked slightly ahead while Song Ha walked slightly slower to stay back with you. 

“So, the wedding is next week. Are you excited?”

You chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you could call it that.”

“Ah, are you nervous? Makes sense. Just think, though, soon, you’ll be married to the love of your life! How exciting!”

Your insides felt queasy. You hadn’t told Song Ha about the nature of your relationship with your betrothed because you weren’t exactly sure how to explain it to someone who wasn’t familiar, nor did you want to deal with the embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Where are you going for your honeymoon?”

You bit your lip, “Nowhere, actually. We couldn’t get time off of work at the same time.” The honeymoon had long been decided as an unnecessary expense, and neither you nor Yoongi complained. Being stuck with him for weeks after the wedding in another country sounded like a nightmarish situation. You wouldn’t have minded a vacation though.

“Gosh, that sucks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to do something over the summer, maybe,” Song Ha pouted, swinging her work bag in line with her step. You smiled at her naivete.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“Hobi!”

You ran towards the taller man, throwing your arms around his upper body, “I missed you! It feels so nice to have you back in Seoul.”

Feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, you squeezed him harder before releasing him. 

“Feels good to be back too,” he responded, a bright, heart-shaped smile adorning his face, “Let me get my bags to your car.”

“Oh, right, let me help,” you nodded, reaching for the bigger suitcase to roll towards your car. Hoseok easily picked up the duffel bag lying at his feet and followed behind you. You had opted for driving to the station since his train had come too late for the buses to still be running, and you didn’t want to have to deal with paying for or lugging his baggage into a cab. 

After loading the luggage into your trunk, you both settled into the front seats of your well-worn car. You heard Hoseok chuckle while clicking in his seatbelt, “This certainly feels different from the drunk bus and taxi rides back to the campus dorms. Even if it’s about the same level as luxury.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hey, my car is reliable. The previous owner only had it for a couple of years before selling it off and she’s been perfectly good since then. Though, my mom would probably agree with you on the luxury bit.”

“Yeah, well, who wants to listen to her opinion anyway. Before I forget, thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here, I know it’ll probably be annoying with the wedding prep going on.”

“It’s no problem, seriously. Besides, a lot of my stuff’s been moved over to Yoongi’s for when I move after the wedding. I’m just keeping my apartment there in case I need it since I won’t be paying rent at Yoongi’s.” Keeping the lease on your apartment had been a conscious decision because you had figured you’d want a safe space away from the marriage drama and it wouldn’t be an extra hit to your income. What your mother and Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. 

“Has he really paid off his entire apartment? You’re marrying a proper chaebol,” Hoseok joked. 

You laughed lightly, a tinge of awkwardness at the idea that you really were, and you had no idea how he’d act in his own house. Tapping your fingers along the steering wheel, you tried to subtly change the topic, “Well, speaking of apartments, do you know where you’re going to be looking?”

Hoseok launched into a detailed plan he had for looking at rental properties in Seoul for both his apartment and the studio he wanted to open. You excitedly listened along, thrilled that he was planning on settling near you, as you drove to your own apartment. 

After you’d parked, Hoseok insisted on taking the large suitcase, claiming that only he was strong enough to lug it up the stairs. You only laughed a little bit at his sour expression when you showed him the perfectly working elevator. 

Punching in the code to your apartment, you swung open the door, making sure not to step food inside. A loud pop rang out and confetti sprayed out from the doorway.

“Surprise!”

Hoseok stumbled back, clutching at his chest and mouth agape at Joohee’s excited smile from inside the apartment, “Shit, Joohee, you scared me!”

You laughed loudly before grabbing his suitcase and rolling it inside, setting the duffel bag on top. Joohee began cleaning up the mess of confetti, Hoseok started to unpack what he’d need for the night, and you began unboxing the pizza that had arrived while Joohee was setting up. 

As the three of you settled into your living room, Hoseok already teasing Joohee, you felt like a void in your heart had been filled. The last few months had been so stressful and it hadn’t felt like you’d gotten a break emotionally in so long. The sounds of your friends chattering and laughing made you feel at ease. So, naturally, Hoseok had to ruin that.

“So, Y/N, how are you feeling about the rehearsal next week? Or the wedding, for that matter.”

You shifted in your position on the loveseat, feeling yourself frown, “Um, I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect. I can’t believe I’ll be married in just over a week.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you continued, “I haven’t talked to Yoongi in like six months. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You could feel yourself spiraling, but you had been holding in so many emotions that it felt like you couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “Honestly, I’m really scared. I don’t want this to be my life forever. I’m not ready, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Joohee got up from her spot on the couch to hug you, Hoseok joining soon after. Something about their touch comforting you pushed you over the edge, the dam broke, and tears began streaming down your cheeks. You sniffled pathetically, hating the level of vulnerability you were currently displaying. You hadn’t cried throughout this whole experience, but in the comforting presence of your closest friends, you couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to marry him if it’s going to be like this. Why does my life have to be this way? Why can’t I be normal?”

Joohee and Hoseok only squeezed you in response, not having an answer to your questions. Your tears continued on until you couldn’t cry anymore and Joohee finally released you. She stood and smiled kindly at you, “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Water, please,” you said raspily, throat dry from all the crying. Joohee nodded before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with Hoseok who had shoved himself into the loveseat to further comfort you. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, slightly muffled by burying your face in Hoseok’s soft, cotton shirt. 

“You know you can always talk to us. I wish I could change this for you, that you didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, stroking your hair. 

“It is what it is,” you said, feeling much more mellow now that you’d cried out all your overwhelming emotions. 

“Still,” Hoseok insisted, “He has no reason to be such a jerk.” You shrugged, you felt the same but there wasn’t much you could do to change that. 

Joohee returned with a cup of water which you gratefully took and sipped. Suddenly feeling quite exhausted, and a headache coming on, you tapped Hoseok to get off of you, to which he complied and clambered off the loveseat.

“Sorry guys, I’m just so exhausted now. I really appreciate you being here, but I think I’m going to head to bed,” you stated, hugging both of them, before starting to gather the trash to clean up. 

Joohee laid a hand on your shoulder to stop you, “Go, get some rest. We’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hoseok exclaimed, and pushed you towards your bedroom, “Go to bed!”

Laughing, you acquiesced and headed into your bedroom to get ready to sleep. As you went through your nightly routine, you felt yourself feeling a bit calmer about the upcoming week. You had your two closest friends by your side. 

You were ready to handle anything that Yoongi threw at you.

Probably.

Yoongi lightly swirled the glass of whiskey between his fingers as he sat at his desk in his brown leather chair. By this time next week, he would be getting married. 

His eyes drifted towards the manila folder lying at the edge of his desk, a small water stain on the corner. Inside were the files on his soon-to-be wife, Seo Y/N. He took a sip of his whiskey, the smoky flavour traveling down his throat, as he considered his fiancee. 

He didn’t know what to make of her. She just seemed so meek and obedient, which wasn’t at all appealing. He didn’t remember much of her from before the arrangement, aside from vague interactions between them and the Kim siblings. She had seemed quite timid then too. 

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, setting his glass on his desk. He didn’t want to do this marriage. It was a chore, really. 

Yoongi didn’t necessarily have anyone he was looking to marry, but having to pretend to be exclusive with some girl he didn’t care about wasn’t conducive to the bachelor lifestyle he’d cultivated. He’d set his ground rules, and she’d agreed, pretty easily, another thing that irked Yoongi. 

Couldn’t she stand up for herself? Or say anything at all that was her own opinion?

Yoongi drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, he supposed she had said something that night. She’d wanted to be friends. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He figured it might be some condition about how she didn’t want to work or for him to stop seeing other people, but, instead, she’d simply asked for his friendship. And he’d refused. 

Of course he did, it went against his other rule. He wanted to keep his life separate from this artificial marriage and that included remaining nothing but acquaintances. He’d have to be steadfast, he decided. That night, when he’d seen your imploring expression with hope shining in your eyes, he’d almost agreed. He wasn’t sure why that was, or if he even wanted to know, but he couldn’t let it happen again. 

Despite your docile and unassuming nature, you were dangerous. And you didn’t seem to know it, which made you all the more so.

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A Single Daffodil || 3

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 11.9K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: is this being posted over a week late? yes but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment eek! on the bright side, I'll be able to work on this more often after this week since most of my exams will be done! and then I have about a month until my job starts so I'm planning to grind!! all that aside, we get to see them get married here, so exciting!! yoongi seems to be having second thoughts hmmm interesting. let me know what you guys think! i love to hear your feedback <33

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee

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You nervously smoothed out the skirt of your dress in an effort to calm your nerves but found little success. The day of the rehearsal had come and in less than twenty-four hours, you were to be married. Your hands shook as you grasped the door handle of the entrance to the banquet hall. Hoseok laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring smile. He had decided to attend the rehearsal at your insistence, citing seeing Joohee again as the reason, though you knew he could tell how worried you were. 

Mustering a small smile in response, you pushed open the door to see the ceremony space set up with nauseatingly bright flowers and ornate, crystal-laden light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were decorated in satin sashes with gold embroidery and the altar was woven around with glittering flowers. Your mother was standing at the edge of the aisle, speaking to the catering service employee. She was dressed impeccably as always, her commanding presence demanding that you look at and respect her. Your father was sitting in one of the satin chairs, scrolling dully on his phone. Your mother noticed you standing by the door and quickly beckoned you over. 

As you approached, Hoseok following close behind, you noticed something at the end of the room. Standing at the end of the aisle was Yoongi, clad in the normal black suit you’d seen him in thus far, with his tie loosened and hair ruffled. He was speaking to his mother, who was adjusting his blazer, and his father, who stood off to the side, distantly nodding along. He had yet to notice your arrival, but you were fully enraptured by him. This was what you had been dreaming of since you’d met Yoongi outside that party so long ago, walking down the aisle to see him at the other end, promising your lives to each other in an act of fierce and nurtured love. But that wasn’t what was happening. Hoseok’s grip on your shoulder grounded you as you approached your mother. You could feel his arm laying across your shoulder blades and hanging loosely, but comfortingly, in an effort to brace you for your mother. 

“Nice to see you finally made it. You must’ve been in a rush if you only had time to choose that outfit,” your mother stated, not bothering to properly greet you or acknowledge Hoseok. She knew who he was and she didn’t approve of your close relationship with him, but she knew that she couldn’t say anything out loud lest her image be tainted, which is what you were banking on. 

Feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten at your mother’s careless words, you tried to subtly placate him, “Hello, mother. I’m sorry I’m late. Will we be starting soon?” Your mother only nodded curtly before turning away to speak to more of the venue employees. You let out a heavy breath before sitting down at one of the nearby chairs, not making an effort to try and greet your father. It’s not like he’d acknowledge you anyway. 

“God damn, you need therapy,” Hoseok whistled lowly. 

You let out a tired laugh, pulling him down to sit next to you, “Yeah, but we knew that already. Are you sure you’re up to face these guys? It can be a lot.”

Hoseok nodded, smiling kindly at you, before squeezing the hand you pulled him down with, “Of course, I am. I said I was here for you and I meant it.”

You grinned, having missed his fervent support and soothing touch, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re the best.” Hoseok only gave you another squeeze in response. 

“Wow, I’m offended,” came a voice from behind you, “I thought I was the best.”

You and Hoseok turned to find Joohee in a simple dress, hands resting on her hips. Smiling up at her, you nodded, “You know you’re in a league of your own. Hobi can’t even compare.” 

Hoseok scoffed incredulously, “You’re so fickle, how could you call yourself my friend.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you leaned back in your chair with Joohee joining, sitting on your other side. Your eyes drifted back to Yoongi, and you startled, finding him looking right back at you. He casually shifted his gaze back to his mother, who was still speaking to him, not sparing you another glance. 

“So, that’s him?”

You turned towards Hoseok, whose gaze was pointed at Yoongi’s form. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s him. My…fiance.”

Hoseok studied your sullen form for a moment before grabbing your shoulders and giving you a friendly squeeze, “At least he’s hot!”

Joohee and you laughed at his antics before hearing the large, wooden doors to the entrance open once more. A group of handsome men entered, about four, only one of whom you recognized as Joohee’s older brother. The group approached, laughing together while walking towards Yoongi. Joohee stood, shouting Seokjin’s name, calling him over to your small group. Kim Seokjin smiled at the sight of his sister before breaking off from the group, one of the men following after, while the others continued to Yoongi. 

“Hey, Joo, how’s it going,” Seokjin smiled easily, ruffling his sister’s hair. She swatted at him before answering, “Good, but mom’s been on my case lately to come home.”

You looked on in envy, wishing you had a similar, friendly relationship with your own brother. Kyungsoo was nice enough to you, when he cared to acknowledge you. He had been primed by your parents to take over their company since he was young, but they’d made sure that the two of you had stayed competitive academically. Even though you were younger, you tended to do better in your studies, something your parents never let Kyungsoo forget. As a result, he’d grown extremely distant with you and you rarely spoke now. Actually, you weren’t even sure if he was coming to the wedding. 

“There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling,” Seokjin’s voice boomed, snapping you out of your daze. 

You smiled politely at him, “Hi, Jin oppa, it’s nice to see you. I’m feeling alright, as well as I can.”

Seokjin nodded sympathetically, “I know Yoongi hasn’t been the best, but give him some time to adjust. If he’s still an ass after that, let me know and I’ll beat him up.”

You laughed as he puffed out his chest and raised an arm to display his muscles. Joohee rolled her eyes before punching him lightly in his side, “Oppa, no one wants to see that. Here, let me introduce you to Hobi.”

Hoseok stood to greet the older man, no longer obstructing your view of the other man who had followed Seokjin out of the group earlier. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Seokjin, and well built, with tattoos flowing down his hands, curling around the small wrinkles of his fingers. His shaggy black hair framed a boyish face that wore a polite smile. Why did he seem so familiar?

“Jeon Jeongguk,” you blurted out, almost stumbling to stand and confirm your suspicions. He turned to face you, with you now realizing that it was, in fact, the same streamer you’d been following for the past few years. You hadn’t recognized him immediately without his usual garb of sweatshirts, headphones, and piercings littering his face. 

“Hi, you’re Seo Y/N, I assume,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. Feeling slightly starstruck, you nodded dumbly. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Kook, she’s a big fan of yours. She watches your streams all the time,” Joohee interjected. Your gaze shot towards her, sending her a silent message. 

You know him? And you didn’t tell me? 

Joohee only shrugged sheepishly, Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.

You gritted your teeth, I’m so interrogating you later.

Jeongguk’s voice called you back to him, “Really? That’s cool, I always love meeting fans.”

Feeling your cheeks redden, you stumbled slightly over your words, “Yeah! I love all your videos, you got me into a couple of new games I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy,” you finished, laughing awkwardly. 

Jeongguk took it in stride, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “Thanks, I appreciate that. So you’re into a lot of games, yourself?”

Seeing an opportunity, you relaxed, feeling yourself brighten at the chance to talk about your favorite subject, “Yeah! I actually work for O.K. Gaming in their planning team. I’m not really into MMOs, but I like a lot of RPGs and platformers, my favorite right now is actually this indie one from the U.S. that’s been out for a couple of years, Celeste, it got put on the switch but I played it on my PC. But I’ve been branching out, thanks to you! Watching you play all the old Zelda games made me want to get into it too, but I ended up starting with Breath of the Wild because it looked so pretty, the graphics are just amazing! So are the mechanics, I was really impressed with how-”

“Woah, there,” you heard Hoseok, laying a hand on the small of your back, “You’re gonna scare him away.”

You laughed awkwardly, noticing the shocked expression that painted Jeongguk’s face, “Sorry, I tend to get over-excited when it comes to that stuff.”

Jeongguk seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head wildly with a large grin, “No, that’s great! It’s been a while since I’ve been able to geek out with someone. We should totally hang out, what’s your number?”

You felt yourself slip back into a comfortable smile before taking Jeongguk’s phone to put your number in while he excitedly mentioned the games he was thinking of streaming next. Handing his phone back, he glanced at it before looking back up at you, “Hey, is it okay for me to call you noona? I do the same with Joohee noona.”

Slightly surprised at his forwardness, you nodded, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I don’t think I’ll call you Kook though.”

He laughed brightly, “We’ll work our way up to that.”

One of the other groomsmen called both Seokjin and Jeongguk back to the altar, leaving you to bask in the feeling of having met one of your favorite content creators and becoming friends with him, ignoring Hoseok’s quiet teasing at your geeking out. The bliss didn’t last long though as you heard your mother clap her hands and ask everyone to sit near the front. Hoseok’s hand slipped into your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, along with an encouraging smile, before letting you and Joohee join the others at the front. You’d wished that you could put Hoseok in your wedding party, but you knew your mother would never allow it. You were grateful already that he’d come to the rehearsal despite not being able to do anything the entire time. 

You and Joohee took your seats at the front, sitting next to some other young women you recognized from your mother’s galas, likely the rest of your bridesmaids. Your mother had been kind enough to let you choose Joohee as your maid of honor, but you knew she’d only allowed it because Joohee’s family was high up enough according to her standards. 

Your mother positioned herself at the altar, addressing everyone with a confident tone, “Now that everyone’s present, I’ll let Mrs. Shin go through the itinerary for today.” Your mother then stepped aside, joining your father on your family’s side of the aisle.

A small, stout woman with her hair in a tight bun and a string of pearls adorning her neck took the stand, “Hello, I’m Shin Miyeon, the wedding planner for this event. For today, we’ll start with a rehearsal of the entrances and ceremony, which will be followed by the entrances for the reception and a run-through of the timings for the dances tomorrow. We’ll end with a joint dinner, and then we’ll be done. Let’s get started.”

Mrs. Shin immediately started directing people, the bridal party being the first, and pairing them up by height to walk together. Joohee was quickly whisked away, leaving you shaking nervously, as this was all beginning to feel a bit too real. The thought was suddenly occurring to you that you really were going to be marrying Yoongi and he absolutely did not want it to happen. Sinking further into your seat, you sent an encouraging, but wavering, smile to Joohee who was paired with her brother due to their similar heights. Your eyes drifted towards Yoongi, who was sitting calmly on the other side of the aisle, swiping through his phone with an unimpressed expression. How could he be so nonchalant about all this?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the entrance,” Mrs. Shin’s voice called out, making you raise your head in her direction. You felt your heart rate speed up and your hands clench, you weren’t ready for this. Your vision almost seemed to cloud as it felt like a hand was closing in around your throat, and your breath started to stutter. You absolutely were not ready for this. Your life was about to change, arguably for the worse, and you had to spend it with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You could distantly hear Mrs. Shin calling your name once more but it felt like you couldn’t move, your body didn’t feel like your own. Gaze lowering to the ground, it seemed like spots were taking over your vision. Your breath continued to quicken and you could feel yourself beginning to fully lose control of your breathing.

This can’t be happening.

You needed to get ahold of yourself, there were people all around you, not to mention your mother and Yoongi. But no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, the control you had over your body kept slipping away, and it only caused you to freak out further. A pair of smart, black dress shoes came into your view and you lifted your head to see Yoongi looking down at you with a raised eyebrow through your blurry vision. 

“Are you coming?”

You forced yourself to hold your breath, letting it out slowly after counting for a few seconds, before nodding and standing on wobbly legs. You didn’t have time to break down, you had a job to do. 

Following Yoongi and Mrs. Shin to the entrance doors, you pointedly avoided eye contact with your mother while sending shaky smiles to Joohee and Hoseok. You had to get a grip. 

“Alright, let’s go through the order we’ll be going down the aisle. Can the rest of the wedding party please come down here?”

You were squished up against the door with Yoongi at your side as the wedding party took their places to arrive at the altar before you. Setting your eyes straightforward, you resisted any temptation to glance at Yoongi to see his expression. You couldn’t face him after he’d witnessed you almost experience a full-on panic attack. Focusing in on Mrs. Shin’s firm tone was an easy distraction, as you watched her guide your wedding party down the aisle and to the altar. Slowly but surely, she made her way to you and your groom, with Yoongi being directed first.

“You’ll walk before Ms. Seo and take your place next to Mr. Kim at the stand,” Mrs. Shin said, guiding Yoongi toward the other end of the room. You watched as he gracefully strode down the aisle, casually stopping next to Seokjin and turning to face your direction. The action made you pause, almost breathlessly, as your gaze connected. However, his eyes didn’t last long on your form, as they slid over to Seokjin and Yoongi began conversing with him. 

You couldn’t help the disappointed feeling in your chest, despite knowing full well you had no right to suffer it. Yoongi wasn’t yours, he would never be, something he had made quite clear in your limited interactions. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a tugging in your stomach, a pain in your forefinger, at his blatant dismissal of you. Biting your lip, you cursed inwardly, now was not the time to fall even deeper for your husband-to-be. 

“Ms. Seo, please follow me. You can hold this in place of your bouquet,” Mrs. Shin said, handing you a nondescript water bottle. A quick glance at Hoseok’s form turned to face you had you confirming that he was making fun of you as you had suspected. You brushed off his giggles and stepped in what you hoped was an elegant manner after Mrs. Shin, following her down the aisle. 

You deliberately avoided looking at Yoongi’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be watching you. Did you want him to? 

Yes.

You almost scoffed. What a ridiculous notion. What you were in need of was a good, old reality check, not playing into the fantasy of marrying Yoongi for love. As you passed Hoseok, he whistled wolfishly, earning a disapproving frown from your mother. It was exactly what you needed though, pulling a laugh out of you before discreetly flipping him off from behind the water bottle. You felt the tension leave your body at Hoseok’s familiar antics, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Maybe you could do this, after all.

Reaching the altar, Mrs. Shin proceeded to give minor notes to the rest of your wedding party as you stood awkwardly next to Yoongi. You could hear his soft breaths as he waited patiently for Mrs. Shin to address you both, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at or try to start a conversation with him. Yoongi seemed to be doing the same, keeping his eyes forward and occasionally glancing at his watch. 

You felt lonely. You were standing next to the person who was going to be your partner for the rest of your life and yet, you felt a deep and painful distance from him. You could feel his warmth, hear him shuffling beside you, but you deliberately shied away from brushing elbows to solidify the separation between you. Yoongi seemed so calm and indifferent, it made you feel a troubling combination of envy and anger. 

Why couldn’t you be as blase as him about this? Why was he so apathetic in the first place? Didn’t he care about you at all? Was he judging you for not being aloof yourself? Why didn’t he want to engage with you at all?

It hurt, to say the least, but the rational part of you annoyingly came to his defense. Realistically, you knew he had no obligation to try and converse with, or even care about, you. So why were you still so hurt?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the doors. We’ll run through it again.”

Mrs. Shin’s voice put a halt to your spiraling thoughts, making you register Yoongi turning around beside you. Following suit, you joined behind him, taking a glance at your watch. Only about thirty or so minutes had passed.

You sighed, this was really going to be a test of your endurance. 

The cushioned chair felt welcoming, even though your company did not evoke the same feeling. Your mother was sitting across from you and her cold stare made you shrivel into your seat. Hoseok was placed on the far end of the table with Joohee, making them achingly far from you. Yoongi was next to you in a performance pretending this was a willing marriage. Not that the restaurant staff would care. 

You scowled internally, lamenting the fact that you couldn’t even eat dinner comfortably. Your mother was sending you cursory glances while talking to Yoongi’s mother, and your dad was talking business with Yoongi’s father, and with Yoongi conversing with Seokjin, you were painfully lonely. You resorted to quietly playing with the napkin in your lap and staring at your empty plate and wine glass in front of you, desperately wishing you could drink to make the dinner easier but you knew your mother wouldn’t approve. 

“Y/N noona?”

You looked up, making eye contact with Jeongguk, who was sitting next to you, previously talking to another groomsman with stunning dimples next to him. 

“Oh, yes,” you responded, straightening in your chair. 

“I wanted to talk to you some more about the games you mentioned earlier since we didn’t get to finish,” he responded, a bright, bunny smile decorating his face. 

You felt yourself smile warmly in response automatically, his joy and bubbliness seemed to be contagious, “Yeah, I’d love to. What would you like to know?”

The conversation with Jeongguk proved to be your oasis in the desert of the stale and stiff conversations happening around you, especially between your parents. His encouraging smile put you at ease and made the tension flow out from your fingers. You were grateful that he was so engaging, keeping you distracted from the shifting from the aloof and dominating presence you felt beside you. 

Yoongi had remained relatively quiet throughout the whole evening, only having spoken to you when you were on the verge of breaking down. He spoke quietly to his friends, not bothering to introduce you to them, and had barely looked in your direction. Part of you couldn’t deny it upsetting you, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was to be expected. 

The both of you had made no commitment to each other outside of appearing as a couple when it mattered, he had no obligation to be friendly towards you. It felt like your mind was going in circles continually trying to keep your emotions in check and avoid crossing the boundaries Yoongi had so clearly laid out. 

The thought entered your mind once again, Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? 

It certainly felt that way. 

You felt Yoongi shift beside you once again, making you flinch. Thankfully, Jeongguk didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in describing his most recent gaming obsession with you. You felt hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence, whether he was right beside you or at the other end of the room. It bothered you how much he affected you, but you almost enjoyed it at the same time.

There was something pleasant about the feeling of falling in love with someone, regardless of whether it was a tragic infatuation or not. The rush of your heartbeat whenever you caught a glimpse of him, the way your breath hitched when you accidentally brushed shoulders, the way your fingers itched to grasp his hand, it all felt so romantic in a way. 

Where it all came crashing down was the reality that Yoongi didn’t feel a semblance of the same way. Your spiked heartbeat was met with his indifferent exterior, your hitched breath with his calm and even exhales, and your twitching fingers with his clenched fist. It was detrimental, damaging even, and it was taking a toll on, not only your emotional wellbeing but your self-confidence as well. You were so swiftly rejected by him that it was a blow to your self-esteem. You hadn’t felt particularly great about yourself prior to his crushing dismissal, but you had certainly been in a downward spiral since then. 

Too often now you were scrutinizing your appearance in the mirror, choosing baggier clothing while hating the silhouette, and catching yourself while speaking. It wasn’t logical or warranted, but that didn’t stop your overactive mind from whispering your insecurities quietly every day. Maybe Hoseok had a point. You really needed to look into therapy.

“Noona?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just zoning out,” you blinked, tuning back into Jeongguk’s honey-sweet voice. 

He smiled sympathetically, something you seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot lately, “That’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded, not wanting to divulge the cacophony of thoughts swimming around in your head, “Please, continue with what you were saying.”

Jeongguk’s energizing smile made a reappearance, making you relax further into your chair. You let his dulcet voice lull you into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the dinner, trying not to react whenever you felt movement beside you. 

“Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your being here. We’ll be meeting at the venue tomorrow at nine, so please be sure to be on time,” your mother concluded, your group standing outside the restaurant. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, your parents speaking to Yoongi’s at their cars and the bridal parties filing out into respective vehicles as well. You leaned back into Hoseok’s firm torso, letting his arm encircle your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. 

You didn’t often let people touch you, but Hoseok was a rare exception, having broken your barriers down in college, and served as a comforting touch whenever you needed it. It evolved into more casual affection, a similar version being displayed between Hoseok and Joohee, and you accepted it as just part of his personality. You knew how it looked to people around you but you simply didn’t care, Hoseok was a good friend, and you’d be damned if you were going to refuse the little human contact you allowed. 

Joohee was talking animatedly to Hoseok about something or other, you weren’t really paying attention. Hoseok’s warmth soothed you, making your eyelids fall in the exhaustion from the day’s events. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your mother frowning at you, but you paid no mind. For the first time since the announcement, you wondered if she’d finally leave you to your own devices now that you were doing the ultimate show of subservience to her. 

Kim Seokjin’s booming voice startled you from Hoseok’s grasp, making him switch to leaning against your car door. You spotted Seokjin’s tall figure making his way over to you, the other groomsmen following behind. Yoongi was also tailing Seokjin, making you stand up straighter and try to steel your expression. 

“Joo, Y/N, we’re gonna go for some drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s bachelordom ending, want to join? You’re welcome too, of course, Hobi,” Seokjin smiled kindly. You almost flinched at the mention of Yoongi’s bachelor lifestyle ending, apparently, he hadn’t told his friends about the rules he’d set. 

Joohee’s face hardened towards Yoongi, apparently realizing the same thing you did, before turning sickeningly sweet towards her brother, “No thanks, oppa. We’re gonna head back to Y/N’s.”

“Oh, c’mon, noona,” Jeongguk looked at you imploringly, eyes shining, “It’ll be fun! We can hang out more!”

You smiled apologetically as you felt Hoseok wrap a protective arm around you, noting that he was probably on the same page as Joohee, “Sorry Jeongguk, maybe next time.”

Jeongguk shrugged, turning to the other groomsmen, the dimpled man with tan skin and a model-esque-looking man with dark eyebrows and lighter hair. Seokjin furrowed his eyebrow slightly, mouth upturning into a small frown, “Well, okay, but I’ll be taking you out to celebrate at some point, Y/N. Mark the date!”

You laughed quietly, waving him off with an acquiescing nod. The men filed back towards their respective cars, heading to bars or someone’s house, you assumed. You began turning further into Hoseok to face your car before realizing that Yoongi was still standing there. 

Pausing, you looked at him questioningly, feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten. Yoongi’s dark eyes narrowed at your intertwined forms. 

“Do you need something, Yoongi-ssi,” Joohee asked in a clipped tone. You almost cringed at the blatant contempt. 

“No,” Yoongi responded quietly, “I don’t. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He nodded politely in your direction before turning to walk back to his car, pausing for a last glance at your bemused face. 

“What was that,” Joohee scoffed, flipping off Yoongi’s silhouette. 

You shrugged, not knowing what to make of it either, “C’mon, let’s just go home. I need to get drunk.”

Joohee entered your car and you were just about to follow before Hoseok pulled you back, making you almost stop in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he sighed, looking into your eyes, “Are you really okay?”

You pulled your hand out of his, tired of being treated in such a fragile manner, “Yes, I’m fine. As good as I can be. I just want to go home.” You felt bad for snapping, but you were irritable after a long day and you wanted to get out of your dress and wipe off your makeup. You turned back towards the car before Hoseok spoke again.

“I know,” Hoseok said softly, “But there’s something off about him. I can’t place it. It was the way he looked at you, especially when I was hugging you.”

You twisted your head in his direction quickly, “Stop. Seriously, Hoseok, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. The last thing I need for this stupid infatuation is to think that there’s something there when there isn’t. I don’t need you putting those kinds of thoughts into my brain.”

Hoseok recoiled before scratching the back of his head and shooting you an apologetic glance, “You’re right, sorry. Let’s just go home, yeah?”

You both entered the car, Joohee leaning forward from the backseat to glance at the both of you.

“Is everything cool with you guys,” she questioned, likely having witnessed the scene outside the car. 

“Yeah, just fine,” you said bluntly, gripping the steering wheel. What were you doing? Hoseok was just expressing concern. You didn’t have a right to get so worked up and take out your anger on him.

Sighing, you let yourself relax into your cushioned car seat, turning towards Hoseok who was in the passenger seat, “Sorry, Hobi. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine,” Hoseok smiled comfortingly, “Don’t even worry about it. I know how stressed you’ve been.”

“No,” you protested, “That isn’t an excuse. You were just looking out for me.”

Hoseok laughed jovially, “Hey, it’s fine, I promise. If anything, I’m glad to see you letting out some emotion, I was beginning to get worried that you didn’t get angry anymore.”

“Oh, she can get angry, alright,” Joohee mused from the backseat, “You’re just not around to see it anymore.”

You laughed, feeling relief at Hoseok’s easy acceptance of your apology. You started up your car, pulling out into the street. 

“Let’s go get shitfaced in your living room,” Joohee cheered from behind you, Hoseok laughing along loudly. 

A smile formed on your face, making you chuckle at Joohee’s exclamations. You were lucky, luckier than you thought initially. Even with everything going on, you felt your heart fill at your friends’ gracious and kind attitudes toward you. You continued driving to your apartment, feeling a touch more confident about your ability to get through tomorrow relatively unscathed. 

Your dress felt constricting, but not in a way that a seamstress could fix. Despite your unfounded confidence the night before, standing behind the closed doors of the aisle sent a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins. 

How were you going to get through this? Yoongi was waiting on the other side, at the end of the aisle, about to become your partner for life. Except, you weren’t going to be his partner in the same way. 

Initially, Yoongi was supposed to walk down with you, your entourage partnered up like you’d practiced at the beginning of yesterday. But Mrs. Shin didn’t like the visual, making her change it to a more traditional style ceremony. Go figure that she wouldn’t think the sight of you and Yoongi walking together 

A sick nausea curled in your stomach, making you clench the audacious bouquet, letting a few petals fall to the floor. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder, making you turn, seeing Joohee’s concerned frown. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay, I’ll be right there. You can do this,” she squeezed your shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can do this,” you repeated, attempting to calm your nerves. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, wondering if Yoongi had the same nerves. 

The thought almost made you scoff, there was no way. Nothing much in his life was changing other than getting a roommate he had to take to galas. 

You knew that wasn’t a fair sentiment. Yoongi was as negatively affected by this arrangement as you were, he was just taking a more emotionally removed approach. Maybe you should learn from that. 

Mrs. Shin appeared next to you in a flurry, “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”

You nodded stiffly, knowing the answer was that you’d never be ready to marry Min Yoongi. 

Hearing the muffled piano begin to play, signaling the start to your bridal party’s entrance, you released a heavy breath, trying to paint on a passive exterior. Joohee whispered some small last bits of encouragement your way before taking her place in front of you. 

The doors slowly opened, letting your bridesmaids walk down before you. You could feel your hands trembling.

Hidden from the audience’s eyes beside the door, Mrs. Shin gestured at you, mouthing that you were up next. 

Taking a moment to close your eyes, you steeled your nerves and took a step forward. You could do this. It was just a walk, that’s all it was. 

You repeated the mantra in your head as you took more and more steps down the aisle, focusing your gaze on the ornate carvings above the altar. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your mother gesturing for you to smile, and you responded automatically, letting a small smile adorn your mouth. It felt hollow, but that wasn’t what mattered. 

As you approached the altar, your gaze naturally shifted down to Yoongi, who was poised in a statuesque manner. He looked radiant, the black suit fitted perfectly to his chest and tapered at his waist. His charcoal hair was styled, showing his forehead, displaying his clear, smooth skin. His hands were clasped in front of him, your eyes tracing the outlines of his fingers, and his aura exuded confidence. You purposefully kept your gaze away from his face, not wanting to see the expression that he wore. 

Reaching the steps up to the altar, you carefully climbed each one, making sure not to trip over the hem of your dress. You took your place next to Yoongi, feeling him turn to face the officiant. As the officiant began speaking, you felt yourself breathe out slowly, trying to recover from the initial stress. You had the first step done, the rest wouldn’t be so hard. 

Thankfully, you could zone out for most of the ceremony, with the officiant droning on in your ear. Most of this was for show anyway, you didn’t really need to seem present. It was lucky that you were facing away from your audience, allowing your eyes to glaze over and subtly stifle yawns. 

You barely processed Yoongi’s presence throughout the ceremony, trying not to glance in his direction. He hadn’t really acknowledged you, but it didn’t surprise you. In a way, it almost pained you that you were getting used to his apathy this quickly. 

Another blessing came in the form that you didn’t have to recite vows. The attendees of the weddings had seen far too many arranged marriages to sit through another cycle of canned and rehearsed vows. It felt especially lucky to you as well in that you wouldn’t have to look into Yoongi’s eyes as you declared your devotion to him. 

The ceremony itself quickly came to an end, and you were forced to turn to Yoongi, making eye contact accidentally for the first time that day. It sent a rush of heat to bloom in the apples of your cheeks and the pace of your heart quickened. It felt pathetic, really, to let him have that effect on you. 

You extended your hand as Yoongi gently took it, sliding the cold metal of the ring onto your finger. Your hands felt numb from staying in place so long during the officiant’s speech, but Yoongi’s warm touch sparked new life in them, making them tremble in his grasp. 

Letting out a shaky exhale, you took Yoongi’s hand in your own, noting the smooth planes of his palm and long digits. You internally cringed at your quivering fingers as you slid Yoongi’s own obsidian wedding band onto his finger. Letting go as soon as you were done, you let your hands fall back down to your sides. You pointedly avoided any eye contact with Yoongi, knowing what was next. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs. You knew this was coming yet it still scared you. You weren’t so much afraid of the kiss, you’d kissed plenty of people, but you were afraid of what it would ignite in you. 

Yoongi left you no room to hesitate as he grasped your cheeks and gently tugged you toward him, almost making you stumble. Your eyes widened as he leaned it, his own closed. Reflexively, you almost pulled away. 

“Relax,” you heard him whisper, too quiet for even the officiant to hear, the warm breath from his words gently caressing your mouth. But you couldn’t stop shaking. You clenched your eyes shut as he leaned in closer before feeling the skin of his thumb covering your lips. His thumb pressed against your lip for just a second before he pulled back entirely, dropping his hands back down to his sides. 

You hovered, unsure of what just happened. Did he cover your mouth for the kiss? You weren’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, you were admittedly relieved, not wanting your first kiss with Yoongi to be under these circumstances of obligation, and it certainly spoke to his respect for your own consent. Even though you were sure there wouldn’t be any more chances for a kiss anyway.

But a more sinister and greedy part of you wished he hadn’t shielded you, craved the soft touch of his lips against your own. You, ashamedly, wanted to share a romantic moment with him, even if it was a guise for a happy marriage. Just feeling his slightly calloused fingers grazing your cheeks was enough to leave you wanting more. 

Applause startled you out of your trance, making you turn towards the audience and plaster a smile on your face. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Hoseok clapping, sending you an encouraging smile. You breathed out, feeling minutely comforted by his sweet smile. 

Yoongi took your hand, holding it, as you began walking down the aisle. You’d practiced this yesterday, so your body was almost numb to the situation of his thumb rubbing against your forefinger. 

Almost.

A nasty thought slithered its way into the forefront of your mind.

That was the same thumb that he covered the kiss with.

As you walked down the narrow pathway, making sure to smile at the sea of guests your mother had invited, you could feel your gaze growing hazier. This was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Your feet were hurting in the heels your mother had made you wear, the jacquard of the dress was starting to dig into your skin at the bust, the hairpins lining your hair were hurting your scalp, and the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was intoxicating. 

You and Yoongi reached the end of the aisle, walking past the doors and letting them close behind, leaving the both of you a few minutes to catch your breath before you were whisked away from the reception. Yoongi quickly separated from you, taking a water bottle from an attendant and downing almost half of it. Your hand felt cold suddenly. 

Another employee offered a water bottle to you as well, and you gratefully accepted, taking a swig immediately. The cool liquid soothed your scratchy throat, feeling it go down with it being the only thing you’d had today by way of food. The attendants then gestured for you to follow them into separate changing rooms, preparing hanboks that your parents had wanted you to wear during the reception. 

Letting the attendant dress you in the hanbok gave you time to process what had just happened. You were now married to Yoongi. You had filled out the paperwork about a week prior, but the bells and whistles of the ceremony made it feel much more real. Sighing, you took solace in the fact that the hardest bit was done. 

But was it really?

Now, you had to sit through a reception, thanking guests for coming and pretending like Yoongi actually liked you. Exchanging recycled pleasantries and fake smiles with your parents’ social circle and business partners was less than appealing. 

The employee quietly told you that she was finished and moved aside to let you look in the mirror. 

You tried to be happy about how pretty you looked, but all you could see were your bloodshot eyes and the slightly cakey makeup trying to hide your eye bags. At least the hanbok wasn’t as tight as your dress. 

Exiting the dressing room, you caught sight of Yoongi in his dark blue hanbok with white pants. He looked striking, as always, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be starstruck at this point in the day. You just wanted to go home and lie down. You were led to the reception hall where guests were already mingling for cocktail hour while the food was being prepped to be served. 

A man whose name you didn’t know announced your arrival and the guests turned in your direction and began to clap. Yoongi grabbed your hand in his once more, the suddenness of the action making you flinch. You entered the hall, smiling and greeting guests politely. You couldn’t even recognize anyone staring back at you. 

Yoongi led you through all the guests expertly, exchanging greetings and small talk smoothly like he’d done this before. You felt like you were in a trance, repeating the same pleasantries and shallow questions. How was he so good at this?

You finally reached the end of the guests, moving to your bridal parties. You hadn’t even seen your parents, your mother was probably talking to guests herself. Joohee pulled you into a tight hug, holding it for a second longer before releasing you with a comforting smile on her face and sympathy in her eyes. The other bridesmaids didn’t bother going beyond quick congratulations, which you were grateful for. You didn’t know them anyway. Hoseok was next to Joohee, also immediately encasing you and attempting to ruffle your hair, but you moved your head out of the way. He stepped back, taking a moment to look at you before speaking. 

“You’re doing well.”

Your eyes became watery as you mustered up a shaky smile, something about him praising you for what felt like thankless effort almost pushed you over the edge, “Thanks, Hobi. Love you.”

“Love you too, always.”

“Hey, I love you too,” Joohee protested, making you bark out a laugh. 

“You’re my number one, Joo,” you smiled, taking her hands and squeezing them. She grinned widely in response before punching Hoseok in the arm. 

“Ow, what the heck,” he grumbled.

“Because I love Y/N more than you,” she responded petulantly, leaving Hoseok to only roll his eyes in response. 

The antics made you smile, giving you room to breathe in the stifling room of business partnership discussions. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s deep voice rumbled, making you freeze before turning to face him. His eyes laid on your figure in what felt like a scrutinizing manner, making you squirm under the heavy gaze. 

“I’d like you to meet my groomsmen,” Yoongi stated, gesturing behind him, “You already know Jin hyung.”

You nodded mutely, sending an unsure smile in Seokjin’s direction. Why was he doing this? He hadn’t bothered to introduce you to them before, why did it matter now? Were you supposed to introduce Hoseok too, then?

“This is Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi continued, moving his hand to clap the tall, dimpled man’s shoulder. The man smiled politely, the dimples faint with the minute movement, and stepped forward, putting out his hand, “Hi, I’ve known Yoongi since college. It’s nice to meet you.” 

You shook his hand, feeling quite exposed under his dragon-like eyes, “Nice to meet you too. I like your hair.” It was a rule that you’d made with yourself, to try and give at least one compliment to each new person you met. You found that it made them much more open and friendly towards you, and it didn’t hurt to receive compliments in return.

“Thanks,” Namjoon said, smile widening and deepening his dimples. His firm grasp on your hand grounded you, but you still felt your cheeks grow hot at the contact. Why were all of Yoongi’s friends so hot? “I like your hair too,” he finished. You smiled in response, pulling your hand away before your blush became too obvious. 

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice pulled you out of the stupor Namjoon’s visual put you in, “I met him a bit after college. He’s a pretty famous jazz performer.”

The model-esque man from the previous day stepped forward, rendering you speechless. Seriously, what was with this friend group? His elegant cheekbones and narrow nose perfectly complemented the kind eyes that adorned his face, and the sandy blonde hair that fell on his forehead. He quickly took your hand in his, kissing the top, making you gasp in response.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Taehyung said, his voice was a smooth baritone that sent shivers down your spine. He looked up from your hand, eyes hooded from his brow bone, making you quickly pull away at the stunning visual. 

“Thanks,” you stammered, trying to collect your thoughts, “You have a pretty smile.”

Taehyung’s face broke out into the aforementioned expression, an adorably contagious boxy smile, as he straightened up, “Thanks!”

“I actually listen to some jazz myself, though not that much,” you mentioned, wanting something to connect over, “I’ve been very into Kenny Garrett recently.”

Taehyung’s smile brightened, letting out a low chuckle, “Yes, he’s pretty great. You should come to one of my shows then, I’ll send you a ticket.”

You heard Yoongi clear his throat. 

“You and Yoongi hyung a ticket, of course,” Taehyung finished, winking at you before turning away to greet Hoseok. 

“And, lastly, this is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s the son of one of my father’s friends, so we grew up together,” Yoongi concluded, but Jeongguk interrupted. 

“Hi, noona! You look so pretty,” Jeongguk smiled, excitedly hugging you. You laughed in response, patting his back before retorting, “Thanks, you look pretty too.”

Jeongguk pulled away, laughing jovially, “Thanks! I told Yoongi hyung we already talked but I don’t think he believed me.”

You stiffened, glancing at Yoongi, whose face was impassive, “Oh, I see.”

Yoongi stepped forward, blocking Jeongguk from your sight, “And who’s your guest?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, flustered by his closer presence, “This is Hoseok. We met in college, but he lives in Busan now. Well, not for much longer, he’s looking to move here,” you rambled. 

Hoseok chuckled before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I’m Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Both men shook hands before Hoseok returned to your side, “I’ve been by Y/N’s side ever since our first year, it’s a surprise I’ve lasted this long,” he finished with a short laugh. 

You elbowed him in the side, only making him grimace and slip his hand down to your waist for a teasing squeeze, “I work a dance studio in Busan but I’m planning on opening my own here.”

“Impressive,” Yoongi stated in a monotone voice, “You two must be close.”

“The closest,” Hoseok grinned, pulling you flush to his side, causing you to struggle, “We’re very familiar.”

Oh no.

That’s Hoseok’s shit-stirring voice, you knew it well. One glance at his sardonic grin had you wrestling out of his grip and trying to move on in the conversation to avoid whatever Hoseok was planning, “Yeah, we and Joohee are all really good friends. We were practically inseparable until Hoseok moved. We should all get lunch together sometime so you can get to know them better.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yoongi said, almost eerily calm, eyes set on Hoseok’s impish smile.

You deflated at his words, forgetting for a moment that Yoongi didn’t want you to mix personal lives. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you felt like you came off as desperate. You felt yourself curl inwards before muttering a quiet, “Sure.”

Yoongi sent a curt nod in Hoseok’s direction before turning away to return to his own friend group, leaving you flustered and disconcerted next to Hoseok. He grinned triumphantly before noticing your abashed state, quickly pulling you into a soothing hug. 

You pulled away, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, and reached for a passing waiter’s tray of champagne. You didn’t usually drink at public functions, but you felt like this was a worthy exception. The bubbly liquid felt necessary to get through the rest of the night, and you welcomed the warming sensation enthusiastically. You didn’t catch Hoseok’s concerned gaze nor the other stare that fell on your form from a far darker pair of eyes across the table. 

You were exhausted. Every limb in your body and your brain itself were screaming out with soreness and fatigue. It felt like a light at the end of a tunnel when guests began filing out and the party came to a close. 

You were decently buzzed, but still sober enough to be aware, from the multiple champagne glasses you drank. Joohee had made sure to keep you well hydrated, somewhat numbing the effects of the alcohol on your body. 

The rest of the reception had gone by quietly, with you and Yoongi separated for the majority of it, greeting what guests you hadn’t and barely talking during dinner. You were conflicted, somewhat grateful for the ease the lack of Yoongi’s presence gave you, but also finding yourself missing his confident aura. 

You waved the last guest out, before letting yourself collapse on a nearby chair. Joohee patted your shoulder and Hoseok wandered off to grab your belongings so that you’d be ready to go. Your mother closed the door to the room before approaching you, Yoongi’s parents in tow. 

“Yoongi,” his mother called, pulling him away from his friends who were seated at another table. He approached, arriving at your seat at the same time as your mother. 

“You’ll be going home in the car we’ve called for you,” your mother stated, leaving no room for argument. You were going to stay in Yoongi’s apartment now, “I assume your things are already there?”

You nodded timidly.

“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Would you like to join me and Woohyun for some drinks,” your mother asked Yoongi’s parents.

“Yes, of course, we’ll have a driver take us to your home. Yoongi, be good now,” his mother said, patting Yoongi’s shoulder and giving you a polite smile. You mustered up what you hoped was a smile in response, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a grimace instead. 

Your mother offered you no goodbye and instead gathered your father and gave some closing instructions to the cleaning staff, before swiftly exiting. You were left looking at Yoongi, who was mouthing something to his friends, waiting to see what he would do.

Joohee squeezed your shoulder before leaving you to help Hoseok with your bags. Hoseok didn’t really need help as you didn’t have much except the clothes you’d arrived in and some electronics, but you could tell Joohee wanted to escape the tense atmosphere. You couldn’t blame her. 

Yoongi turned toward you, making you stand automatically to meet his gaze, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just,” you started before being interrupted by Hoseok arriving with your bag. You chuckled awkwardly as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, watching you take the bags from Hoseok. Joohee was next to him, fiddling with her phone in an effort to not engage, you assumed. 

“Are you leaving,” Hoseok asked, to which you nodded in response, “Well, have fun. Call me anytime, I’ll always be there.” He pulled you into a hug, making you melt in his embrace. You soon felt Joohee’s arms wrap around you as well, “Me too, we’ll talk later.” They released you before giving you encouraging smiles. You couldn’t say you felt the same level of confidence. 

Facing Yoongi, you gathered your bags, noting his one bag at his side, likely containing his suit. He nodded curtly at Hoseok and Joohee, who waved in response, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. You stumbled after him, waving a messy goodbye to Hoseok and Joohee, and finally catching up to Yoongi holding the door open for you. You tried to muster a grateful nod, but seeing his cold expression, you moved quickly to get out the door. 

Awaiting your arrival outside was a sleek, black car, with a chauffeur standing patiently holding the door open to the backseat. You took a quick glance at Yoongi, who gestured for you to enter first, so you did, leaving your bags sitting outside. Yoongi climbed in afterward, quietly asking the driver to put the luggage in the trunk. The two of you sat in silence, waiting for the driver to finish packing the luggage away. 

It was finally over.

Somehow, it didn’t feel that way. The relief you’d hoped to feel was nowhere to be found and you were left with only the biting anxiety that Yoongi’s silence incited. You played mindlessly with the seams of your hanbok, finding it slightly uncomfortable to sit in the backseat with. Yoongi didn’t seem to share the same discomfort, scrolling idly on his phone and not acknowledging your presence. 

You wished you could do the same, but you’d left your phone in your bag after not having used it all day. Instead, you turned to the scenery outside your window to keep yourself occupied. The driver soon started up the car and began heading to Yoongi’s apartment. Watching the scenery fly by gave you time to think about what was waiting for you there. 

You hadn’t visited Yoongi’s apartment yet, too afraid and uncomfortable to set foot inside a space so truly and specially his. Most of your things from your own apartment were apparently already set up, courtesy of his maid, Mrs. Lim, whom you had been in contact with when you first dropped off your things. You had been in a rush, trying to get to a dress fitting, and Mrs. Lim had insisted that you give everything to her and that she would make sure it would be ready for you when you came. 

You supposed now was that time. 

Yoongi was still silent beside you and you weren’t sure what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the night after his odd introduction to Hoseok. It frustrated you how the little things he was doing kept messing with your head. 

You weren’t an idiot, you knew that his actions could point toward jealousy, but you refused to consider that as a possibility. Not only would it contradict his entire attitude towards you, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel even a sliver of hope that Yoongi might harbor feelings toward you. The constant self-regulation was taxing and you dreaded the idea that this would be your future, constantly reminding yourself that your husband doesn’t love you and to not get confused. 

Your thoughts halted with the car as the driver pulled into the entrance of the large building that housed Yoongi’s apartment. It was dark, so you gladly accepted the help of the chauffeur in getting out of the car. He kindly handed you your bags before bowing and driving away. You didn’t have access to the building yet, having called Mrs. Lim for your past visits, so you looked helplessly at Yoongi to unlock the door. 

He didn’t spare you a glance as he punched in his code and stood aside to let you in. You nodded in thanks anyway and shivered at the cold nipping at your cheeks. Yoongi led you to the elevator, pressing the 9th-floor button, silently standing in the opposite corner from you. 

Sighing internally, you almost laughed at the blatant display of the contempt he held for you. For the first time, you thought of him as slightly immature. 

The elevator doors slid open and Yoongi led you to a hallway with only four doors, each housing a penthouse apartment. The farthest door was Yoongi’s, you learned, as he held his thumb up to the pad before hearing a click and pushing the door open. Mrs. Lim was immediately there to greet him. 

“Mr. Min, let me take your things. Oh, Ms. Seo! Here, I’ll take your bags to your room. Wait, should I call you Mrs. Min, now?”

You smiled at the sweet, older woman, nodding your greeting, “Hi, Mrs. Lim. Please, just call me Y/N.”

She smiled at you, taking your things and rushing off to the upstairs portion of the apartment. It left you standing awkwardly next to Yoongi, who was typing something out on his phone. You took the moment to let your eyes wander around the sparkling apartment. It looked straight out of a catalogue with cool tones and neat furniture with an open concept. He had smooth, black leather couches surrounding a large TV with a path into a dining room that housed a large table and comfortable-looking chairs. That was next to a large kitchen with a wide counter in the middle and a sleek, silver refrigerator and oven. It looked nice, but not welcoming. You preferred warmer lighting and more touches of color, with some plants, but you reminded yourself that this wasn’t your space to customize.

Or was it? You weren’t really sure. It felt like you were invading Yoongi’s home, but wasn’t it your home now too? Should you be able to decorate it to your liking as well? Or at least compromise? The thought of addressing that now felt too overwhelming and you didn’t want to piss off Yoongi so early into your stay. 

“You can go change and get ready to sleep. We can discuss the ground rules now or tomorrow morning, your choice,” Yoongi said, snapping you out of your observation of the apartment. 

You nodded absently, wondering what other rules he had, “I can come down after changing.”

Yoongi hummed in response before taking off to the stairs, evidently going to change himself. You stood awkwardly by the entrance, not knowing exactly where your room was, and decided to take hesitant steps toward the stairs. 

“Oh, Ms. Seo, let me help you to your room,” came Mrs. Lim’s comforting voice from the top of the stairs. You gratefully accepted her help and followed her through the halls as she gave you a tour. 

“Over there is Mr. Min’s office, and just next to it, his bedroom. He has another office downstairs for his work, this one is more for personal use. There’s a bathroom here, but you have an en-suite bathroom in your bedroom anyway. There’s an extra room downstairs that I’ve fashioned into a bit of an office for you if you’d like to use it. That’s the guest bedroom there, the hallway bathroom is mainly for that one. Sometimes Mr. Min’s friends will stay over if they’ve drunk. Ah! Here’s your bedroom.”

You entered, enjoying Mrs. Lim’s chattering as she gave you a mini tour. Your bedroom was large with a queen-sized bed and soft-looking sheets with a fluffy comforter. There was a desk in the corner and a vanity in the other. You noted a door on the side that must lead to the bathroom, and your bags sitting on the floor by the desk. 

“Through that door is your closet and bathroom. I’ve set up your closet for the most part and tried to make it homey, but please feel free to decorate it to your liking! I’m so excited to have another woman here long term, Mr. Min doesn’t always make for great company. Oh, but don’t tell him I said that!”

You giggled, enjoying the motherly presence Mrs. Lim provided, and began unpacking some of your bags from the day, “Thank you, Mrs. Lim. I appreciate you doing all this for me. And please, call me Y/N.”

“Of course. Do you need assistance getting out of your hanbok?”

“No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you.”

“Right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be off shift now so I’ll be heading home, but please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”

“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Lim. Have a good night.”

She bowed before exiting and you breathed out, sitting on the plush bed, making the comforter balloon around you. The room was nice, definitely, but it felt a bit stale and unwelcoming. At least you could customize this area without having to worry about Yoongi. You opened the door to the closet, marveling at the size and open entrance into the bathroom with a large tub and shower. Your clothes were nicely organized and you had no trouble finding some pajamas to change into with an old shirt you’d stolen from Hoseok and shorts. 

Quickly undressing, you neatly hung up your hanbok and slipped into the shower, grabbing the necessary toiletries from your bag. You relished in being able to wash the hair spray out of your hair and loosen it from your scalp, glaring at the pile of hairpins that sat on the granite counter you’d spent upwards of five minutes removing. The warm water soothed your aching legs and the soapy bodywash felt rejuvenating. 

You swiftly finished showering, not wanting to keep Yoongi waiting, and wrapped yourself in a towel before loosely drying your hair. You preferred to let it air dry, so you only lightly patted it with a towel. Drying off the rest of your body, you donned new undergarments, pausing on whether or not to put on a bra. You usually didn’t wear bras to bed, but you didn’t want to go down to meet Yoongi braless. 

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and pulled on a comfortable sports bra, before slipping on your shorts and t-shirt, finally feeling comfortable. Quickly checking your reflection in the massive mirror, you headed down the stairs to meet Yoongi. 

He was sitting on the leather couch in a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, almost taking your breath away at how beautifully casual he looked. You’d only seen him in suits so far and seeing him in loungewear with wet hair and a towel around his neck left you flustered. He noticed your presence, eyes running over your form making you feel embarrassed. 

He gestured for you to join him on the couch, setting aside his phone to lean forward on his knees. You sat on the loveseat across from him, not quite sure what the etiquette was at this point. 

“Okay, so I’ve already told you the general rules I have. Basically, don’t enter my space without knocking and please, do not go into my upstairs office. I’ll do the same for you. You’re free to set up your rooms however you like.”

You nodded, all of this seemed pretty fair so far. 

“You can use the kitchen however you like, just let Mrs. Lim know what groceries you want. If I have guests over, I’d prefer if you stayed in your room, but I won’t force you. This space is as much yours as it is mine, now.”

You continued nodding along, making some notes of getting a TV for your room so you could properly entertain yourself when his friends were over. You wouldn’t exactly want him coming into the room when you’re with Hoseok and Joohee either. 

“You can invite your friends over whenever you want, just let me know in advance. I’ll be sure to do the same for you. Also, if I have any of my own partners over,” he continued, the last words causing you to flinch, “I’ll make sure to let you know. Please just give us some privacy and try not to be out in the common space when they’re here. Of course, I’ll extend the same courtesy.”

The harsh reminder of the openness of the marriage left you squirming in the chair. You didn’t want to remember that Yoongi would be fucking other people in the home you shared. 

“We can add things as we get used to living together. Anything you want to add?”

You shook your head quickly, just wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. Yoongi nodded, rising, before sparing you one last glance.

“Alright, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” you squeaked, watching him ascend the stairs. After his form disappeared into the hallway, you leaned back on the loveseat, exhaling harshly. What a conversation. You’d have to take some time to get used to this. You returned to your room feeling heavily conflicted. As you set up your phone and watch chargers, you thought over the conversation. 

Objectively, Yoongi was being relatively fair, letting you exist in the space in the same capacity as him. Yet, you still felt unhappy. You knew why. You wanted him to be only yours, to have the same exclusive outlook you did on the relationship. You were upset with yourself more than him. 

He had made this clear from the beginning, that he had no intention of stopping any partners outside of the relationship. He clearly didn’t want to have a relationship with you, sex or not, so what he was doing now was completely fair.

You couldn’t turn the emotional part of your brain that craved to have a real romantic relationship with him. It was almost annoying and you were frustrated at yourself for continuing to feel this way. 

Climbing into bed, you continued wallowing, deciding that you’d pity yourself tonight, but the next day, you’d have to pull yourself together. You’d taken a couple of weeks off at the insistence of your boss, even though he knew you weren’t going on a honeymoon, and you wanted to enjoy sleeping in. 

It was time to adopt Yoongi’s approach and try to remove yourself emotionally from the situation. How hard could it be?

Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book, ultimately setting it aside on his bedside table. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated. 

His eyes hadn’t been listening to him lately. They seemed to constantly wander after your figure, finding your face and curves at every corner. The past couple of days, they had barely strayed from you, watching as you cuddled up to that man, Hoseok. 

Who was he? Were you two together? Was Hoseok in love with you? More importantly, why did it bother Yoongi so much? 

He groaned, feeling annoyed that your relationship with Hoseok was getting to him so much. He had been the one to set the boundary of it being an open relationship, so why did it bother him so much that you seemed to be employing that? Yoongi knew that he had no right to feel this way and was only further annoyed that he continued to do so. 

And what was with your budding friendship with Jeongguk? When did you two become so close? Yoongi buried his head in his hands, shouldn’t he be happy that his friends and wife are getting along?

Wife. It felt odd to say, or think, that. You were his wife now. Except he’d made it clear that the title didn’t change anything between you, nor would it change his actions. Despite his earlier resolve to not let this marriage affect him, you seemed to be having a great effect on him. 

He’d followed your form and mannerisms throughout the past couple of days. He’d noticed your trembling hands and avoiding eye contact. When the two of you had been about to kiss, he could feel your body shaking beneath his hands, prompting him to cover your mouth for the kiss. 

He hated how tempted he’d been to fully kiss you.

Throughout the rest of the ceremony and reception, you’d been largely withdrawn, until you’d met with Hoseok. Yoongi was frustrated that you didn’t seem to be able to stand up for yourself, that you played so well into the role of a trophy wife, but he’d been even more upset at your close contact with Hoseok. 

The man had laid his hands on you so easily and seeing the way Hoseok’s fingers curled around your waist and your smile when you talked to him made Yoongi’s blood boil. Why hadn’t you smiled at him like that? 

Yoongi bit his lip, he knew that wasn’t your fault. He hadn’t been welcoming at all to you, he’d barely given you a chance to talk to him. Yoongi was just steadfast in his mission to continue on with life as normal, he didn’t want this marriage to change anything. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be upset with you going along with his requests. 

You were dangerous. 

You were dangerous in the way that you nodded along to everything Yoongi asked, in the way you refused to let your mask slip and show any emotion, in the way you smiled so brightly with Hoseok and Jeongguk, in the way your cheeks tinged pink when Taehyung kissed your hand and Namjoon smiled at you, and in the way you looked so comfortable and natural in your pajamas. 

Yoongi had to suck in a breath when he saw you entering the living room with your freshly washed and damp hair, falling in wet curls strands around your shoulders, making a wet spot on the oversized dance team t-shirt. 

That was another thing. Where had you gotten that shirt? It was far too big for you, Yoongi knew that well. It was obvious in the way it fell past the hem of your shorts, tantalizing his eyes to rake down your legs, and it was for a college dance team. Were you on one in college?

Or, Yoongi’s mind raced, was it Hoseok’s? Hadn’t the man said he worked in a dance studio? The thought made Yoongi fume, just how close had you two gotten? 

But he paused, what right did he have to feel upset? Yoongi had been in bed with another woman just days ago, it wasn’t fair of him to judge you for doing the same. He’d said that you were allowed to sleep with or date whoever you wanted, so why was he so angry at the idea of you and Hoseok? 

Another sigh escaped him, he didn’t have it in him to deal with this tonight. Just the idea of you a few rooms down in that too-big shirt and too-short shorts was enough to drive him crazy. 

He reached over, turning off the lamp next to his bed. He’d unpack his feelings in the morning. Yoongi turned over, settling into bed, ignoring how empty and cold his hand felt without your warmth. 

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A Single Daffodil || 4

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 12.5K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela

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Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.

You needed tea, warm tea. 

You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldn’t find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment. 

Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes you’d seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form. 

“Um, hi,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn’t be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded. 

“Well, it is the weekend,” Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.”

You didn’t wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you should’ve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet. 

You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didn’t find out.

The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.

The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You weren’t dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, you’d been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasn’t he the one to draw such a clear line between you two? 

Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongi’s hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how he’d treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.

Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldn’t afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him. 

Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention. 

Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance. 

“Do you, um, do you have any tea,” you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, “Sorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? There’s also coffee and juice if you want that instead.”

You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, “That’s fine, I’ll just have some warm water, thanks,” and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug. 

Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasn’t too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi. 

Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongi’s presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadn’t spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.

Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didn’t seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadn’t really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps. 

His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.

“Um, thank you,” you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldn’t handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.

“No problem,” he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongi’s subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, “Would you like some as well?

Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, “Right, well I’ll just, um, finish doing this.”

God, could you be any more awkward?

Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.

You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongi’s presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongi’s form on the couch, he called out to you.

“Y/N, can you sit for a moment?”

You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time you’d sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue. 

“Some of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you don’t mind, are you able to stay in your room?”

“Oh, sure,” you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing. 

“Thanks,” Yoongi almost smiled at you, “They’ll be here around seven.”

“Sounds good,” you said while standing up, you couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didn’t notice Yoongi’s gaze lingering on your retreating form.

Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve. 

Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldn’t exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongi’s home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldn’t relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind. 

Why did he get so close to you? Wasn’t he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didn’t see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you. 

Even though you’d resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that. 

Not that you thought that was going to happen. 

After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseok’s doing. 

You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseok’s number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Well, hello Mrs. Min,” came his teasing voice. 

You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, “Shut up, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, recalling your husband’s cold and calculating exterior.

“Well, what’s up, how’s the first morning? Are you sore,” Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself. 

“I guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,” you responded, massaging your aching feet. 

“No,” Hoseok laughed, “Are you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!”

“Gross,” you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, “We did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?”

“That’s your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,” he hummed on the other end, “The opportunity was right there.”

“Dude, c’mon, he can barely stand me. We wouldn’t have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.”

“You’ll get there,” Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.

“How’s your apartment hunting going,” you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.

“Smooth,” he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, “Good, I think. I’ve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Tell me about it. I don’t know how Yoongi affords this place.”

“He probably owns it.”

“Damn, you’re probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,” you half-joked.

Hoseok only scoffed in response, “As if you’re not literally the daughter of chaebols.”

You hummed, nodding, “Touche.”

“Oh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, he’s just finishing up his MBA so I’m going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,” Hoseok excitedly detailed.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure he’ll say yes,” you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard he’d worked and if this other guy knew anything, he’d say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat. 

“How is everything else,” Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.

“Tell me about it,” he said quietly, encouraging you.

“Alright,” you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when you’d gotten to Yoongi’s penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later. 

Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, “How cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.”

You shook your head, laughing along, “I guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time I’m falling in love as a teenager or something. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,” Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, “Having a crush isn’t all that immature, it’s the way you act on it that can be.”

“You’re surprisingly profound,” you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged. 

“Well, I have my moments,” Hoseok chuckled, “But seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And it’s okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smiled, he really did have his moments. 

“Anytime, Y/N-ie,” Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.

“But I do have to go now. I’ve got some calls to make about my old apartment. They’re trying to keep my deposit,” he huffed.

“Yikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,” you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap. 

After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.

Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you weren’t connected to the wifi. 

You should’ve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.

Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution. 

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?

You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didn’t give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the desk’s surface. 

Yoongi:

Sure. It’s worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.

You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it. 

You: 

Thank you. Have fun with your friends.

You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadn’t vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read. 

Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.

You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, you’d bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, that’s what you hoped. 

Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations. 

Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasn’t an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongi’s friends had arrived already, and you didn’t know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them. 

Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongi’s. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food. 

You couldn’t remember Yoongi’s address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal. 

To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongi’s friends further into the penthouse. 

After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjin’s signature laugh in the living room. 

Oh, that’s right, Yoongi didn’t want you to come down.

You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were. 

Ah, fuck it.

You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongi’s group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately. 

“Yah, Seo Y/N,” he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.

You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.

“Why are you over there,” Seokjin slurred, “Come join us! You need to drink!”

You began shaking your head before you were interrupted. 

“Noona!”

Jeongguk’s bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction. 

“Come join us, noona, please,” Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.”

You ignored his and Seokjin’s protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food. 

“Woah, is that fried chicken,” you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs. 

“C’mon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesn’t mind,” Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongi’s stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse. 

“Sorry, oppa, I think I’m just gonna head up. I’m kind of tired,” you responded, shying away from Jeongguk’s insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken. 

“You’re so boring, Y/N, you’ll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,” Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon. 

“Let her be, hyung, you can’t force her,” Namjoon smacked Seokjin’s shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs. 

You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongi’s icy stare. Seokjin’s cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room. 

Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took. 

The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadn’t come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored. 

Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongi’s decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongi’s frosty exterior. 

“Ms. Seo, I think your TV is here!”

You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasn’t necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didn’t have much of a choice. You couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help. 

“Coming,” you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Lim’s conflicted stance, hands on her hips. 

“What’s wrong,” you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim for help. You’d managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight. 

It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way you’d be able to get this up on your own. 

“Don’t try it by yourself, dear,” Mrs. Lim soothed, “You’ll hurt your back and end up just like me.”

You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, “Yeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, “What happened to respecting your elders? You’re quite warm though, would you like some cold water?”

You nodded appreciatively, “Yes, please. Thank you!”

Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?

Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully. 

“Mrs. Lim,” came Yoongi’s voice, “Is there something in the doorway?”

“Oh, my bad,” you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After you’d pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi. 

He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod. 

“What’s all this,” he questioned.

“I’m just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,” you wrung your hands together nervously.

Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water,  “Oh, Mr. Min, you’re home!” Handing you the glass, she continued, “Ms. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. It’s much too big for just her to handle and I can’t help because of my back. So unfortunate, isn’t it?”

You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water. 

Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, “Give me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.”

You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongi’s offer to help. He didn’t spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile. 

“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, there’s japchae and banchan to cool you down. It’s just about time for me to head home anyway,” Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron. 

You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, “Mrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?” You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes. 

She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, “Use this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.”

You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself. 

Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, “Besides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!” She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didn’t give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Lim’s exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit. 

“Where did Mrs. Lim go,” he asked, starting his descent to the living room. 

“Um, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,” you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze. 

Yoongi simply nodded, “That’s fine. Shall we get started, then?”

You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other. 

“I’ll walk backward, so just let me know when I’ve gotten to the stairs,” he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands. 

You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous it’d make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily. 

You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since you’d arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook you’d stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongi’s sleek, grown-up look. 

“Um,” you started, wanting to take Yoongi’s gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, “Thank you for, ah, helping out.” 

Yoongi’s head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.

“No problem,” he responded, “I like your room.”

You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether. 

“It’s cute.”

You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldn’t like it before. Furthermore, describing it as ‘cute’ seemed so unlike him. You weren’t sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

You’re glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you whole?

Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, “Would you like to have dinner then?”

You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadn’t had a meal together since you’d moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you. 

“Unless you’re eating later,” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised at your delayed response. 

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I’d love to have dinner now.”

Way to sound over-eager.

The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Lim’s kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as she’d learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi. 

“Were you told about the gala tomorrow evening?”

You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadn’t been a fun phone call. She’d made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three. 

“We’ll go together, we’ll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,” Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready. 

“Alright then, that’s settled,” Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food. 

“Oh, wait,” you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, “Do you have a dark blue tie?”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

Your cheeks heated, “My mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.” It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances. 

Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, “That’s fine. I’ll be sure to wear that tie then.” With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.

Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the day’s events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongi’s plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room. 

You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead. 

At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.

When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You must’ve worked late into the night because you didn’t remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway. 

Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didn’t notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you bowed slightly, “I didn’t see you there. Good morning.”

Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasn’t done interacting with you, startling you to face him. 

“Do you have any plans for before the gala?”

“Yes, I’m going to an art show nearby. But I’ll be back in time to get ready,” you rushed to answer. 

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup. 

“Oh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but it’s a ticketed event and they’re sold out,” you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly. 

Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah, right,” you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display. 

Of course, he wasn’t asking to go with you, how dense could you be?

Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongi’s judgemental gaze lay. 

Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book you’d recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadn’t managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading. 

Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water. 

After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didn’t need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didn’t get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute. 

You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

You:

image attached

art gallery fit 💪

Hoebi:

you look like my wife

*future wife

Joo-nie:

omgg step on me queen

so when are you attending the met gala 🤨

You:

omfg it’s just a dress you guys

also i better see you at the gala tonight joo

bring hobi as your date

Joo-nie:

ew no

you can bring him as yours tho

You:

i have a literal husband who’s my date

Hoebi:

girls girls, don’t fight there’s enough hobi to go around

Joo-nie:

die

You:

nevermind, you can stay home

Hoebi:

you guys are so mean 😭

i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich

Joo-nie:

omg good luck! let us know how it goes!

You:

yes def do

i’ll see you tonight joo

Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadn’t eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didn’t need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs. 

Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, “Going to the gallery?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, “You, uh,”

You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.

“See you then,” he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more. 

“Have fun.”

You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, “Thanks, I will! See you tonight.”

With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasn’t too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day. 

You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three. 

You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didn’t have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant you’d lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line. 

“Seo Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples. 

“Oh, Namjoon-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be attending this as well,” you said, smiling and bowing politely. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!”

“I know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,” Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh. 

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now,” you smiled, about to turn back around. 

“Would you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head. 

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasn’t allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldn’t you two walk around together? 

“I’d love to,” you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions. 

Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, “Great, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but he’s super flaky.”

You chuckled, “Same here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasn’t even here, but he wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

“Hobi, that’s Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,” Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin. 

“Yes,” you nodded, “He’s planning on moving back here so he’s all busy trying to get that sorted.”

“Well, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,” Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you. 

You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasn’t good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, “I’d really like that, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, “You can drop the formality, we’re the same age, right?”

You nodded, laughing slightly, “I guess I’m just used to it. I’d really like that, Namjoon-ah,” you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You could’ve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge. 

The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation. 

At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, “You’re such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope you’re having a fun date!”

The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didn’t show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.

Namjoon’s company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants. 

A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongi’s building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongi’s apartment in favor of Namjoon’s calming presence. 

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring,” Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step. 

You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, “Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to it. It’s kind of weird, being married that is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure Yoongi hasn’t been the most receptive either.”

“Understatement of the year,” you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, “He’s so hard to read.”

“He’s like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise he’s a really great guy once you get to know him, he’s just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. He’ll warm up to you, eventually,” Namjoon said, patting your shoulder. 

“Eventually,” you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.

You had reached Yoongi’s building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon must’ve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, “You know, as much as Yoongi’s dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I haven’t seen him without his ring once since the wedding.”

You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, “I’ll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.”

Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongi’s floor. You weren’t really sure what to make of Namjoon’s words. 

Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, you’d dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your “rich people” watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi. 

It wasn’t a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongi’s side. You certainly didn’t feel like it, but your mother didn’t really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance. 

Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained. 

Everything was tiring. 

You didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty. 

You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoon’s words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself. 

You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you should’ve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didn’t have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself. 

You really didn’t want to go to this gala.

As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.

The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side. 

He hadn’t said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, you’d consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it. 

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance. 

The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a ‘thank you’. Yoongi didn’t release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following. 

“Good to see you could make it,” your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongi’s hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these. 

The questions were repetitive, to say the least. 

“How are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?”

“How’s the business, Yoongi?”

“When are you two thinking of having kids?”

“Are you still working for that game company?”

It was exhausting, but Yoongi’s warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, you’d made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadn’t let go of you. But you weren’t complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongi’s musky cologne was intoxicating enough. 

Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldn’t protest aloud. 

You figured that was the end of Yoongi’s image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on. 

You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongi’s hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely. 

“Where’s Yeonhee noona,” Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjin’s wife pulling you into the conversation. 

“She’s at home with Hwannie,” Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadn’t really shut up about him since. You’d seen Yeonhee at your wedding and she’d looked equally as elated, practically glowing. “I wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,” Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group. 

Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadn’t been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed. 

“Great, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,” Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze, “I think that’s Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! He’s an ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, “Yeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s comment only made you frown further. You hadn’t really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldn’t think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you. 

“You look really pretty,” Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words. 

“Thanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,” you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongi’s burning palm against your skin. 

“Oh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? There’s this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,” Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing. 

“We should totally check it out! I’m always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldn’t,” you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation. 

“You can never have enough, or at least, that’s what I tell myself,” Namjoon chuckled, “There’s also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think you’d be up to check it out?”

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’d love to. Just send me the details.”

“I don’t think I actually got your number earlier,” Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone. 

“Oh, right, that would probably help,” you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you. 

Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadn’t noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table. 

“Have you two gotten close,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back. 

“Oh, um, we met at the art show earlier,” you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought. 

“Ah, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,” Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, “Your wife’s really nice, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, “I have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?”

The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didn’t need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You moved to retort Yoongi’s absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile. 

“I don’t really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,” he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongi’s odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you weren’t your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash. 

You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your father’s age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired. 

But what did you care? You shouldn’t care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldn’t help it. Maybe you’d ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back. 

The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. He’d even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something you’d been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, “I saw you put on the ring, I’m glad.” 

His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out. 

You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.

“Are you ready to go?”

You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence. 

During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongi’s behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well. 

You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.

Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasn’t a fair comparison, you didn’t outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongi’s other conquests. And there wasn’t even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with. 

Well, mostly. You couldn’t deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you weren’t going to think about that too hard right now. 

The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didn’t want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more. 

Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didn’t get to dictate who you became friends with and he didn’t have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You weren’t responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him. 

It’s his problem to figure out why he’s acting so bizarrely. 

Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely? 

He couldn’t understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? It’s not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now? 

He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music they’d never release together. He shouldn’t be upset that you’re becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?

As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times he’d seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, you’d looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts he’d seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you weren’t wearing a bra. He’d averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen. 

Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadn’t wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldn’t erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind. 

When he’d arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. He’d been surprised by how much he’d liked the cutesy embellishments you’d added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming. 

Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when he’d left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep. 

He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If he’d finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldn’t stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning. 

You’d looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirt’s neck slipping down your shoulder. But, he’d kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. You’d looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that you’d worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so. 

Well, why should he? He’d been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldn’t give you mixed signals. 

The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair. 

Maybe he was just horny.

Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! He’s just distracted by you because he hasn’t been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else, he wouldn’t allow it to be. 

Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved. 

His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didn’t want to consider what it meant if they weren’t.

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A Single Daffodil || 5

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, slight smut in this chapter but not really

Author's Note: hi everyone! sorry it took so long to get this out, but I literally (finally) got my car back yesterday and wrote almost this entire thing today lol. thank you guys so much for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to get the next part out super soon but I hope this is good for you guys for now!! as always, please let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your feedback

TAGLIST CLOSED

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daises-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeomeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @wobblewobble822 @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309

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The night had given your frustration towards Yoongi some time to deflate, but you still felt it bubbling deep inside your consciousness. You weren’t one to hold a grudge necessarily, not outright at least, but you would never forget either. Joohee said that made you even more dangerous, but you liked to think it made you amicable. The next morning brought you to a lazy Sunday where you had initially wanted to bum around in your bed but the small items scattered around your floor reminded you of the tasks you had yet to finish. 

Your morning was spent tinkering with your console and Blu-Ray player to get them to connect properly with your TV and the wifi, and while you struggled, you refused to ask Yoongi for help. It was a bad habit of yours, avoiding those you were mad at or were mad at you. It certainly hadn’t worked with your mother, but then again, she’d barely been home to avoid in the first place. 

Thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in your head as you finished cleaning up your room and organizing everything. His behavior last night still stumped you. Logically, the only explanation was that he was jealous. Whether it was of Namjoon or you, you weren’t sure. You were too scared to entertain the thought that he might be jealous of Namjoon, the way your heart sped up was dangerous. Even if it was the correct explanation, could you even allow yourself to hope like that?

You fell backward onto your bed in a huff, it was safer to think he was just angry at you and Namjoon for getting close because it was “mixing personal lives”. Any other reasoning was going to send you down a spiral of confusion, want, and optimism. Just as you resigned yourself to a well-deserved midday nap, your phone buzzed on the bedside table next to you. Groaning out, you reached around for your phone, eventually finding it and seeing Hoseok’s contact blaring on the screen. 

You swiped to answer the call, throwing the phone down next to you on speaker, “What?”

“Geez, don’t you sound grumpy.”

“It’s because I am.”

“Well, okay then, live your life, I guess. Anyway, guess what happened,” Hoseok responded excitedly.

“What?”

“The guy my old boss recommended said yes! We’re gonna start looking at studio spaces together, I’m opening up a dance school!”

You sat up, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to your ear, “Hobi, that’s great! I can’t believe that, I’m so excited for you!”

“I can’t believe this is finally happening! It feels like this has been in the making since college,” Hoseok exclaimed, you could hear him pacing around in his room through the phone. 

“You deserve it so much, Hobi, I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, and you did mean it. You knew how hard Hoseok had worked through college, surviving on a scholarship and battling down criticisms for choosing a dance major. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would succeed and you were happy to watch him do just that. 

“Do you want to meet him? We’re having dinner together tomorrow and I wanted you and Joohee to be there.”

“Of course I will, I’ll need to see you guys to prep for going back to work next week anyway. Just text me the details and I’ll be there,” you responded, picking at the seams of your comforter at the mention of you resuming your job. 

“Will do,” Hoseok responded excitedly and hung up after a quick goodbye. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your work, far from it in fact, but it was the questions that would inevitably come with your return that you dreaded. The glittering ring on your finger would fuel the rumor mill and lead to empty celebrations and congratulations, not to mention questions surrounding your mysterious husband. 

Song Ha would probably be the only one not asking much about the wedding, but only because she attended. You hadn’t been able to talk with her during the reception, too overwhelmed and swept up in the flurry of high-profile guests. You certainly felt guilty for not having been able to see her but you knew she would understand, she was sweet that way. 

No, Song Ha was dangerous in the fact that she had seen Yoongi, and she would be ready with a list of questions to ask you when you stepped into the office the following week. Once Song Ha started the questions about Yoongi, the others would only join in, adding to the pressure you felt to appear like a normal, happy bride. 

Abruptly, you stood up. Now wasn’t the time for sulking and self-pity. Determined, you stomped towards the door, ready to fling it open and face Yoongi with your head held high. But as you reached the handle, your fingers curling around the edge, ready to rip it open, you hesitated. 

Facing Yoongi sounded even more draining right now, the idea of his upturned frown staring down at you was less than appealing. His hot and cold attitude was taxing and you were tired of trying to understand his actions. 

Coming up with explanations for his bizarre attitude and trying to make sense of his lingering gazes was less than appealing to your exhausted mind. But, you reminded yourself, this was technically your space too and you couldn’t just stay in your room the whole time. Besides, you wanted a snack and why should Yoongi stop you? 

Shaking your head, you steeled your resolve and opened your door. You couldn’t hear anything coming from the living room or kitchen so you continued your venture down the stairs. Yoongi was nowhere in sight and you silently celebrated, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about him right now. 

You reached the kitchen, rifling around for some chips before settling on a small packet you found tucked away in the cupboard. As you began making your way back to your room to enjoy your snack, the front door opened and Yoongi entered, running a hand through messy black hair.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake,” he said, stopping at the couch once he saw you. 

You nodded curtly, “Yes, good afternoon.” You had been so close to going without dealing with him but it seemed like the universe had different plans in mind for you. It felt a little mean to be so blunt with him but seeing his stupid, perfectly shaped face ignited the remaining rage you had left in you from the previous night. Even though it was a new day, all you could think about was how he’d treated you like some child that needed to be looked after. It made your fist clench around the chips bag, the crinkling noise sounding much louder in the quiet living room. 

When you continued your trek toward the stairs, Yoongi called out for you. 

“Y/N,” he said, slightly louder than his normal volume, “Can we talk for a second, please?”

You turned to face him, silently waiting for him to continue. What could he possibly have to say?

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started, surprising you, “I was thinking about it when we got home and the way I’ve been acting has been unacceptable and I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly.”

You felt your eyes widen at his apology and you stuttered a response, “O-oh, it’s fine, really.” A habit of yours, to dismiss any apology that comes your way, to pretend like you were unbothered.

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not. I was getting confused and treating this,” he gestured between you, “Like something it’s not, I’m sure that was annoying at the least for you. I’ll be sure to maintain a proper distance from hereon out, I don’t want to meddle in your life.”

You blinked back, confused by his statement, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was acting like a husband when we’d agreed to keep ourselves separate from each other. I had no right to get upset with you or to treat you like a kid, and I’m sorry.”

“Um, okay,” you stammered, “I’m just going to go up then.”

Yoongi nodded, turning away and walking into his office. You walked up the stairs in an almost trance-like state, you had no idea what to make of that conversation. 

You should be happy that he apologized but why did it seem like the outcome wasn’t what you wanted? He said he’d maintain some distance between you two from now on, that isn’t what you wanted. Or wasn’t it? 

Throwing the bag of chips on your bedside table, you collapsed onto your duvet, you didn’t know what you wanted! You knew you wanted Yoongi to apologize but you didn’t want him to push you further away. You wanted him to explain why he got upset, if you were reading into things too much, if he was starting to feel something for you. You wanted him to be clear, and that conversation was anything but. 

I was getting confused and treating this like something it’s not.

What did that mean? What did he mean he was getting confused? You were supposed to be the confused one. 

Chips now long forgotten, you flipped over in your bed and reached for your phone, opting to occupy your brain with mindless scrolling rather than try to make sense of Yoongi’s words. 

Despite how much you tried to distract yourself, the conversation with Yoongi still swirled around in your mind like a rampant tornado, hitting the corners of your brain and disrupting your every thought. You hadn’t managed to figure anything else out, you’d only been able to work yourself into a frenzy and feel even more confused. 

Glancing at your watch, you noted that only a few hours had passed and it was around time for dinner, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Yoongi and spiraling once more, not that you had clawed your away out of your current spiral either.

Instead, you opted to skip dinner for tonight, not feeling particularly hungry anyway, and tried to pass the time until you felt drowsiness kick in. Your method of choice was just playing a relaxing game in your bed until your eyelids felt heavy and you drifted off in a rather uncomfortable position for your neck. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep, much less find the energy to fix your position to avoid a sore neck. 

That night you dreamt of yourself in a dark room with no visible walls and it almost felt cold but the sensation didn’t seem like it was coming from your surroundings, it felt like it was underneath your skin. 

You looked around frantically, for anything, and your eyes caught on a sliver of shiny black hair with slightly pale skin underneath. The figure reached out a hand for you and you tried to run toward it but found yourself unable to move. No matter how hard you pushed your legs, flailed, and grasped for the outstretched hand, it felt like there was an invisible wall preventing you from moving forward. In your struggle, you failed to notice the hand slowly retract and only realized once the figure started to move further and further away. You felt yourself shout after it but no sound escaped your throat.

Finally, you managed to break free from the invisible barrier and began running after the figure. Your limbs felt like lead and your lungs were struggling to take in air, but you persisted, chasing after the retreating figure and uselessly shouting for it to stop. Once it seemed like you were finally closing in on it, the ground beneath you disappeared and you fell into the dark chasm below, seeing the figure watching from the edge. 

It did not try to reach out a hand to grab you. 

The next morning had you feeling more grateful than ever that you still had another week off from work, although it was your last. You had awoken feeling drained and anxious, unable to remember your dream from the night prior. The only thing you did recall was falling, only because it made you wake with a start in bed at around three in the morning. You were tucked in nicely into your duvet then but it had become messy once your alarm went off later. You had set your alarm for later in the day than you usually did for work since you hadn’t wanted to get up early but also not sleep in too late. 

The clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen indicated Mrs. Lim’s presence and you sleepily got dressed and walked downstairs to greet her and get some tea. She neglected to comment on your haphazard appearance and instead presented you with an already-brewed cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at her, you took a seat at the counter and made quiet conversation. 

“Would you like anything in particular for dinner tonight,” Mrs. Lim asked.

“No, thank you, I’ll be meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You should really invite them here, Mr. Min wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Lim added cheerfully.

You held back a scoff, “Yes, well, I guess I’m still getting comfortable.”

Mrs. Lim smiled kindly, “Of course, dear, I’m sure all of this is difficult to get used to.”

You weren’t sure if she was just talking about Yoongi’s apartment, but you nodded in agreement nonetheless. 

“Oh, Mrs. Lim, could you actually prepare some samgyeopsal for dinner tonight? I think Yoongi is in desperate need of it,” you mentioned, recalling how tired he’d looked last night. 

Mrs. Lim only smiled knowingly, nodding gently before resuming her tasks. 

Your phone buzzed on the countertop, drawing your attention. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

Joo-nie:

what’s the dress code for the restaurant tonight

do i have to break out my razor

Hoebi:

Uhhh the restaurant is kinda fancy so maybe?

Idrk tbh this dude said the place was good but it looked fancy lmao

You:

i’ll wear a dress joo, so you can too

Joo-nie:

ty queen

wear the little black one makes you look hot

Hoebi:

What should I wear to look hot

Joo-nie:

don’t show up

Hoebi:

Owie

You:

i’ll send a pic later when i get dressed

BUT it’s still minimal makeup 

you guys are gonna have to see my massive eyebags

Hoebi:

They’re your most charming quality <3

You:

damn that’s a low bar

Hoebi:

See you guys tonight!! Be there at 6, don’t be late!

That was aimed at you, Joo

Joo-nie:

rude

You smiled fondly at your friends’ messages before setting your phone down and turning your attention back to Mrs. Lim, asking how her weekend went. 

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and Mrs. Lim soon went home after her responsibilities were completed. She had ended up shooing you out of her sight after you’d insisted on helping her out with the cleaning, citing boredom as the reason, but she was having none of it. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in your bed and feeling unproductive. 

It was difficult to relax properly while not working because you felt as though you should be doing something else, but you didn’t have anything to do. Part of you was excited to get back to work to occupy yourself but another part of you was concerned over how easily you fell into a depressive mood. It was just another reason to start looking into therapy. 

With nothing to entertain your mind with, your thoughts continuously shifted to Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since that odd conversation where he promised to keep more distance between you, leaving you confused and lost. You still were. 

He felt impossible to read. Every time you thought you were about to figure it out, he threw a curveball at you and made you stumble on your path to a logical conclusion. The more you thought about his actions leading up to and at the gala, the more they seemed to point to jealousy. The problem was, you couldn’t figure out a plausible reason he would have to be jealous. Obviously, the overarching reason would be that he has feelings for you, but he didn’t have a reason to. The man hadn’t tried to get to know you at all, you’d barely had five conversations since the wedding. How could he possibly have feelings for you?

And Yoongi didn’t seem like the type to show possessiveness over someone he had shallow feelings for, nor did Yoongi seem like the type to develop shallow feelings. In your mind, he oscillated between someone who didn’t like commitment in any form to someone who wholly devoted himself to getting to know someone before developing feelings for them. However, it was impossible for you to come to a conclusion. Just like in your own reasoning for Yoongi’s feelings, you barely knew him and there was no way for you to make these judgments. 

What you would give to understand what’s going through his mind. 

By the time your alarm went off at five, you were still lost in your thoughts, mindlessly playing a farming sim, mainly because your wife in there was much easier to understand than Yoongi. The alarm startled you out of your stupor and jolted you into action, scrambling things together to get ready for Hoseok’s dinner. You had showered in the morning so your hair would be dry by the time the dinner came, and you were happy you’d had the forethought. 

Rifling through your closet, you pulled out the black dress that Joohee had mentioned, a form-fitting cocktail dress you’d picked up on a shopping trip with her. The square neckline complimented your decolletage and the fabric seemed to hug your curves just right, only slightly puckering around your hips. Your hair didn’t need much styling, opting to leave it natural, and your makeup was minimal, not feeling the energy to put in more effort. 

You made your finishing touches, surveying your appearance in your mirror, and were satisfied. A glance at your watch told you that you were right on time, but that you didn’t have a minute to lose, so you hastened your pace to the door to head downstairs. Before you made it past your bedroom door, your eyes caught on your wedding ring, sitting on your vanity. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should put it on. 

Whatever, you fumed internally, snatching it and sliding it onto your finger. It’s not like it mattered anyway but you’d grown to enjoy the feeling of the cool metal against your skin and fiddling with it when nervous.

You were somewhat surprised to see Yoongi sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of whiskey, not having expected him back from work this early. He had already changed out of his suit and into a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the epitome of comfort with his messy hair, likely from pulling the shirt over his head. You hated how attractive he looked and the way it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat speed up. He noticed your presence hovering at the end of the living room before looking you over, his feline eyes watching you from above the rim of his glass. His gaze made heat bloom all over your body and you could only pray that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt.

You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it. 

Although, were you allowed to now that he’d apologized? But that apology wasn’t what you’d wanted, not that you knew what you wanted. 

Sighing internally, you decided to remain cold with him. He’d wanted to reemphasize the distance between you two, so he’d get that. 

Settling for a curt nod, you walked past him into the foyer to slip on some simple, block heels, bending down to secure the straps. Yoongi cleared his throat behind you, causing you to turn back to face him. 

“Going out?”

“Yes,” you answered, pausing for a moment, pondering if you should tell him who you were meeting, considering his reaction to Hoseok last time. Maybe it was petty of you, but part of you wanted to push his buttons as much as he was pushing yours, wanted to make him annoyed and angry, just as much as you were at him. 

“I’m meeting Hobi for dinner,” you finished, confidently staring him down. His eyebrow twitched and you saw his gaze narrow, but he didn’t show much of a reaction outside of that. 

“Alright, have fun,” he said curtly, turning his attention back to his phone and whiskey. You almost scoffed at his standoffish attitude, but ultimately shrugged. You didn’t have the energy in you to be bothered by him. 

You did a final check of your belongings before opening the door and heading downstairs to catch a cab to the restaurant, you had a feeling you’d be drinking at some point tonight. In your haste, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes followed your form, watching you leave without a glance in his direction. 

The restaurant certainly seemed fancy, it looked like Hoseok’s business partner had quite the expensive taste. You exited the cab as gracefully as you could in a cocktail dress and entered, immediately spotting Hoseok’s bright smile and energetic wave signaling you over. The hostess smiled, letting you pass to sit at the table he was at. He stood as you approached, enveloping you in a tight hug before releasing you and letting you sit across from him. As you settled in, you took the opportunity to observe his business partner, who was sitting beside him. 

He was quite pretty, with a round, angelic face and plump lips, and his hair was a soft grey, tousled atop his head. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, making them look closed, which only made you smile widely in response. 

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced, bowing slightly. 

“Nice to meet you as well, I’m Seo Y/N,” you responded, returning the bow, “Hobi has been telling me how excited he is to be opening up a studio with you.”

Jimin’s face lit up, smiling even wider, “Yes! I’m so excited, it’s the whole reason I did my MBA. I’m just hoping we can find a good studio space.”

You nodded along to his words, noticing that he tended to become quite excited when he talked, similar to the man sitting next to him. 

“By the way, I love your dress,” Jimin exclaimed, startling you with the sudden compliment. 

“Oh, thank you,” you stumbled, “I love your hair and eye makeup.”

Jimin smiled, which he seemed to do quite often, also similar to Hoseok, “Thanks! I wanted to try out a fancy look since I was meeting Hoseok’s friends.”

“They’re not worth the effort,” Hoseok teased, making you gasp in fake indignation, “Where’s Joo, by the way, it’s already fifteen past.”

“She’ll probably be late,” you said, trying to soothe the worry lines appearing on Hoseok’s face, “You know how she is.”

“That’s what worries me,” he responded, only making you laugh.

“I’m here! I made it,” Joohee stumbled in, speedwalking to your table before ruffling Hoseok’s hair in greeting, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She slides in beside you, bowing a greeting to Jimin, “Hobi’s told us so much, he’s been really excited to work with you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin laughed, “I’m excited to work with him too. Opening up a studio has always been my dream, and Hoseok feels like the perfect partner.”

You both smile at Jimin’s words before starting to fuss over the menu and throwing question after question at Jimin to try and get him to open up. Over the course of the dinner, you learn he’s fairly high-maintenance, hence the restaurant choice, but he tends to back it up himself, which he proved when he offered to pay the tab. He tells you about his time in Hoseok’s old dance studio and how he was unsatisfied, so he decided to pursue his MBA in Seoul to eventually open up his own school. 

“It was a huge decision to make, I mean, Busan was my home. But I knew opening up my own studio was what I had to do, and I left everything behind to do it, my family, my boyfriend, and my job. It was hard,” he detailed, a glass and a half of wine into the dinner, “But it’ll be worth it, I just know it.” 

You smiled at him, “It definitely will be. Whatever you and Hobi do, I just know it’ll take off.”

“And don’t be afraid to let me or Y/N know if you need investors,” Joohee jumped in, “I know plenty of old men with fat pockets.”

Chuckling, you all took a sip of your drinks before Hoseok surprised you with a new line of questioning, “How’s the newly married life so far?”

“Oh, did you just get married,” Jimin asked excitedly, gesturing at the ring encasing your finger, “That’s so exciting, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, “I did, about a week ago. It’s been good so far, it’s nice.”

You couldn’t get into the specifics with Jimin there, someone whom you’d just met, it’d make things too awkward. Thankfully, Joohee came to your rescue.

“I meant to ask, how’s the studio space hunting going? Hobi’s been touring for that and his own apartment, he must’ve seen half of Seoul by now,” she joked, relieving some of the tension Hoseok’s question incited in you. The dinner conversation continued on pleasantly, but you felt yourself pulling away from your surroundings, your thoughts drifting to your husband. 

His behavior was confounding, to say the least, and it had occupied the back of your mind for the past few months, even before you got married. It felt like a constant static itching the corner of your brain, his voice humming in a soundtrack to your thoughts. 

The sound of Joohee gathering her things beside you pulled you back into the conversation and noticing they were getting ready to leave. You focused in to hear what they were talking about and learned that it was the terrible housing market in Seoul, leaving you to nod in agreement. You were lucky to score the apartment that you did, which was one of the reasons you were so reluctant to leave it, knowing that you wouldn’t have a place to go if you needed to leave Yoongi’s apartment. 

You jumped in with your comments here and there as your group walked to the exit, finally feeling present again, and stopped just outside the restaurant.

“It was really great meeting you both,” Jimin said cheerfully, hugging you and Joohee, “I hope we can meet up again soon!”

“Same here,” you grinned, “We’ll make Hobi create a group chat.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes before calling a cab, “Here, Jimin, let me get one for you. Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

Jimin saluted, grinning, before entering the taxi that had stopped at the curb. He waved until he was out of your line of sight, leaving you to sigh and turn to face your two friends. They stood behind you, arms crossed, and looking at you quite sympathetically. 

“What? Is this an intervention,” you joked, but they quickly shook their heads, reigniting your nerves. 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear your answer earlier,” Joohee stated, “You clearly need to talk about Yoongi.” Hoseok only nodded in agreement. 

You exhaled slowly, clearly, nothing was getting past your friends’ watchful eyes, “Alright, want to go back to my apartment? Hobi’s headed there anyway.”

Hobi only smiled, squeezing your shoulder before signaling for another cab.

“He’s just so confusing, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” you sighed frustratedly. 

“I agree, I think he’s playing games with you,” Joohee said, swirling her glass before taking a sip of her wine, “He’s being all hot and cold. What is he, fifteen?”

You chuckled, “It feels like I’m fifteen sometimes, the way he makes me feel.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just as confused as you are,” Hoseok interjects, causing you to shift your head to look at him. He was sprawled across your loveseat in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, munching on some chips. 

Joohee sat up, adjusting in her seat to face him as well, “What do you mean? He’s the one being confusing.” You nodded in agreement.

“Well, guys can be different,” Hoseok started, “Maybe he just doesn’t really understand what’s going on, this situation is new for both of you.”

You leaned back on your couch once more, considering Hoseok’s words while staring at your ceiling.

“Maybe he’s just using the distance excuse as a defense mechanism because he’s confused about how he feels about you,” he continued, “I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N. He definitely cares to some degree.”

You frowned, finding his statement hard to believe, but you tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes nonetheless. Was he really developing feelings for you? Is that why he put more distance between you two, because he was scared? It felt difficult to conceptualize after the months of telling yourself there was no way Yoongi would ever harbor romantic feelings toward you. 

“But still,” Joohee interrupted your thoughts, “Even if that is the reason he’s acting this way, wouldn’t that still make him immature? He should have more emotional intelligence than to send mixed signals because he’s confused about his own feelings. Either way, he needs to grow up.”

Hoseok only hummed, tossing another chip in his mouth, but Joohee’s words struck you, making you sit up from your horizontal posture. 

“I mean, to be fair, are any of us really grown up,” you verbalized, making Joohee look at you questioningly, “All of us are immature in some way, and he doesn’t have any experience in this kind of situation like Hobi said. He probably went into this thinking that it was going to be more like a business partnership than anything and it hasn’t exactly been like that.”

You sighed, staring into your empty wine glass, “I feel like it’s unfair to hold him accountable for everything as if he’s some kind of villain. He still apologized and he’s been respectful. Whether he has feelings for me or not, he’s still navigating a new dynamic just like me. He’s allowed to make a few mistakes along the way, right?”

Joohee shook her head and smiled at you, “Yes, he is, but he’s still clearly hurting you. I think you guys need to talk this out. Clearly, you’re not on the same page. And even if he is just figuring out new feelings for you or not, you’re not obligated to wait around and find out. You can live your life how you want in the meantime.”

You returned her smile, “Yeah, you’re right, but I kind of feel like I already am. I don’t really have anything that I want to do that I’m not already doing. Honestly, not much has changed for me other than gaining a new, handsome roommate.”

She laughed in response before poking you, “How about going out and meeting someone? You can always take them back here. Yoongi said that he was fine with it, so you should go get laid. I know it’s been a while and you deserve the fun with someone who’s clear about their intents.”

You shrugged, “I know he said he was fine with it, but it still feels like cheating to me. I don’t know, it just makes me feel icky. I’m just not interested, really, just like before I got married.”

Joohee nodded, “Well, nothing wrong with that. I just hope that you’re not doing it because you feel like it’s unfair to Yoongi, he’s been more than clear about his consent.”

You shook your head, “It’s not that. I’d feel this way with anyone, you know how much I hate cheating. I can honestly say that even if Yoongi set me up with someone and went off with someone else, I still wouldn’t. It’s just not appealing to me right now. Maybe that’ll change, who knows?”

“That’s fair,” Joohee hummed, “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m glad you seem good with that at least.”

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass, “What happened to Hobi? He’s been strangely quiet.”

The both of you turned to look at the loveseat only to see Hoseok’s head hanging off the edge of the cushioned arm, mouth open letting out quiet snores.

You and Joohee giggled before standing to try and transport him to his temporary bed in your guest room. The two of you got ready for bed and soon curled up under your comforter with Joohee whispering, “I hope you get to talk to him. I want things to work out for you.”

“Thanks, Joo,” you whispered back, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Joohee only smiled and mumbled a quick, “I’m lucky to have you too. Goodnight, Y/N-ie.”

You laughed quietly, “Goodnight, Joo.”

When you awoke the next morning, Joohee had already left, having to go back to her apartment to get ready for work. She left a sweet note saying goodbye on your nightstand, making you smile. 

You left Hoseok to sleep in, figuring he’d wake up when he wanted. As compensation for his stay in your guest room, you snagged another one of his large shirts since most of your comfy shirts were at Yoongi’s apartment. Rushing through a simple morning routine, you quickly gathered your things to head back to Yoongi’s apartment. You hadn’t intended to stay out during the night, and even though you had a right to, you still felt the same panic you’d felt in your childhood having to face your mom after spending time with your friends. 

You scribbled out a note to Hoseok and left it out on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door, making your way to the bus station near your apartment building. It was a fairly long ride over to Yoongi’s apartment, so you settled in with some music and tried to relax your heart. You had no reason to be nervous, Yoongi likely wouldn’t have even noticed. He’d probably be at work by now, not even realizing that you hadn’t come back last night. You watched the people of Seoul through the bus window, walking to their jobs and checking their phones, likening them to what Yoongi probably looked like in the morning on his commute to work. Your fantasy was interrupted by the notion that Yoongi was probably driven to work in a sleek car and rode the elevator to the top floor. 

Blinking out of your daze, you noticed only two stops were left until yours and began getting ready to get up. Once you reached, you exited swiftly, making your way inside the building and nodding at the security guard. 

After taking the elevator up, you opened the front door as quietly as you could before entering and carefully closing it. You sighed as the silent house, it seemed like Mrs. Lim wasn’t here yet. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around to walk upstairs and were immediately startled by Yoongi sitting on the couch, calmly watching your movements. 

“Oh! Yoongi-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be home,” you breathed, practically clutching at your chest, “Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he hummed, setting his phone down to look at you, observing your frazzled state, “Late night?”

“Um, yeah, kind of,” you stuttered, “Hobi, Joohee, and I were drinking a bit.”

He only nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly, leaving you standing silently and awkwardly. You let out an awkward laugh before scooting around the couch and climbing up the stairs and to the safety of your room. Entering and closing the door behind you had you exhaling loudly and practically collapsing on your bed. 

How were you supposed to talk about your relationship with him when you could barely get through a thirty-second exchange? 

The rest of the week passed by peacefully with you barely interacting with Yoongi. You were almost relieved if it didn’t only put you more on edge for the weekend. You were dreading having to navigate around him being in the house for the whole day, but you were looking forward to going back to work the following week. You had had enough of lazing around and feeling unproductive, especially when all your friends were still busy so you couldn’t hang out with them. Joohee was working, of course, but Hoseok had finally settled on an apartment and was preparing to move in, leaving you quite lonely in your room. 

Friday meant that Yoongi would likely be home late, if at all, because he tended to spend it with his friends as Namjoon had informed you. It left you by your lonesome in the large apartment, where you ended up lying in bed for most of it. The lack of work was really starting to take a toll on you and made you recall when Yoongi’s mother had implied that you should quit when you got married.

The idea made you laugh. If the last two weeks were anything to go by, leaving you with nothing to do during the day would only result in an extended depressive episode. A glance at the clock on your side table let you know that it had gotten late enough in the evening to grab some dinner, which you opted to order in, feeling lazy. 

You ate in your room glumly watching some video or other and not really paying attention. You wondered if this weekend would be the one where you had your conversation with Yoongi. How would you even start that? What if he refused to talk to you or got defensive? If the conversation did work out, what would it mean for your relationship with Yoongi? Could you become friends?

The thoughts continued to swirl around in your brain as you gathered your dishes to deposit in the dishwasher and walked to your door. As you reached it, you noted some quiet voices on the ground floor, making your eyebrows raise. Maybe Yoongi’s friends had come? 

Shrugging, you opened your door and walked downstairs, turning into the living room and almost dropping your plate in shock. 

On the couch, Yoongi was on top of someone else with his hands on their face and supporting him on the couch, notably missing his ring, and kissing whoever was underneath. The sight was startling and troubling, immediately making tears fill your eyes. 

You should’ve expected this so why were you so upset? 

You didn’t take time to dwell on it and opted to run back to your room instead, but as you hastily turned back towards the stairs, the dishes in your hands slid against each other, making a loud noise. 

The noise alerted Yoongi and whoever was underneath him to your presence, making you flinch hard. 

“Y/N?”

You faced him with warm cheeks and wet eyes before steeling your expression. He didn’t need to know that you were affected, you refused to let him see you weak because of his actions. His face looked slightly shocked but his messy hair, unbuttoned dress shirt, and swollen lips made your heart hurt. The person underneath him sat up, facing you, mouth falling open in shock. 

“Y/N-ssi?”

Your own eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s equally horror-stricken expression. He scrambled off the couch, attempting to fix his rumpled top, before stumbling over to you. 

“Y/N-ssi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I mean, I didn’t know-” he stuttered, grabbing your hands in a pleading manner, “I’m so sorry.”

You smiled as kindly as you could in that moment, he was just as much a victim in this as you were, “It’s okay, Jimin-ssi. Seriously. It’s complicated.”

His brows furrowed at your answer, but you could see the relief flood his face at your forgiveness, “Okay, but I’m still sorry. I’ll talk to you about it later though, it looks like you have some stuff to work out. I’ll text you, I promise.”

You nodded, mustering your best smile, and waved him off, finding yourself unable to speak much more. He quickly grabbed his phone off the table and whispered acidly to Yoongi before leaving quickly. 

His exit left you staring at the floor while Yoongi still stood by the couch. He took a few steps forward but stopped once you flinched back against the stair banister. 

“Y/N, I,” he started, but you cut him off. 

“It’s fine, we agreed about this. It’s fine,” you stated, before nodding curtly and turning to head up the stairs. 

You heard Yoongi call after you but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. You could feel your eyes welling up and your lip trembling, something you couldn’t let Yoongi see. Setting your eyes forward, you stiffly walked to your room, ignoring Yoongi’s call of your name. 

After retreating, you shut the door behind you, immediately crumpling to the ground in quiet cries. You should’ve known this would happen, you had even mentioned it to a degree with Joohee, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe you had let your hopes rise after what Hoseok had said the other night and let your head fill with the idea of you and Yoongi sharing feelings for each other. Clearly, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it made your chest hurt and tears roll down your cheeks as you suppressed choked sobs. 

This felt like an overreaction. What right did you have to feel upset? This was the deal from the start. He had made it clear since the beginning that you were both allowed to take partners and you had prepared yourself. So why did it still hurt so much?

Feeling your sobs subside into wet hiccups, you slowly stood, tossing your dishes onto your desk and collapsing on your bed. You felt exhausted and dehydrated, and there was a headache almost certainly in your future. 

The sight of Yoongi with bitten lips above Jimin was still clear in your mind and only made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t feasible. 

Your mind drifted to what Joohee had said before. What was really stopping you from going out and sleeping with someone too? Nothing was, and in your hurt and angry stupor, you vowed to make good on that. 

Reaching for your phone, you dug through your contacts before selecting the one you were looking for. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Hey, it’s been a while. Are you still in Seoul? I’d like to catch up.

With that, you sighed, shutting off your phone and closing your eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, leaving you dozing quietly in only a few minutes.

The next morning had you waking with a pounding headache and a dread of leaving your room. The idea that you might face Yoongi outside was more than unappealing so you opted for staying in your room. Was it the coward’s way out? Maybe, but you felt that you deserved to be a coward for a bit. 

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to talk to you since your stunted conversation, there were no new calls or knocks on your door. You supposed he didn’t have a reason to, but some part of you wanted to hear him beg for your forgiveness. 

However, there was one new message on your phone, part of a conversation that you barely remembered starting and had to read through bleary eyes. 

Lee Jaehyun:

Hey, Y/N! It has been a while, it’s good to hear from you. I heard through the grapevine that you got married, congrats! 

I’m still in Seoul, I’m actually free tonight for dinner if you’re down to talk. We can do something casual at our usual spot. 

Despite the mindset you’d been in when you sent Jaehyun a message, hearing from him still brought a smile to your face. He was always sweet when you were dating and stayed that way after you’d broken up. You knew he understood the nature of your marriage and that it was likely what you were messaging him about, which it technically was. 

He had always been so understanding, you could only hope that he’d understand what you wanted to do and be willing to follow through on it with you. You quickly typed out a response before glancing at the time. You still had a while to hide in your room until you could leave to meet Jaehyun. 

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Sounds good, I can’t wait to see you. Does 6 sound good? 

Only a few minutes later, a text from Jaehyun came in confirming the time was fine. It left you to only wait until it was close enough to six to start getting ready. You occupied yourself with anything you could, trying your best not to think about Yoongi and instead, hyping yourself up for your night with Jaehyun. 

You could do this. 

You made sure to shower and shave properly and donned a casual, ruched dress that you knew Jaehyun loved on you. Taking the time to style your hair and put on some flattering natural makeup, you started to feel somewhat better about this. Who says you had you stop your sex life because of this? Even though it was already on hiatus long before your engagement, but that was neither here nor there. 

Touching up some last few details with your look, making sure to add a necklace that dipped into your cleavage, and double checking that you were wearing the right lingerie, you felt ready. One last look in the mirror had you feeling like a woman on a mission, and you essentially were, though not a noble one. 

The thought made you cringe but you tried to wipe away any guilt you felt. Clearly, Yoongi hadn’t felt any when he’d brought Jimin home. Jimin had texted you again last night but you hadn’t found the energy to text him back yet. You’d worry about that after fucking Jaehyun. 

With your look finished, you exited your room, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert Yoongi. You made it out the door successfully and breathed a sigh of relief. 

You quickly hailed a cab to take you to a ramen bar that you and Jaehyun frequented while you were still dating. As you reached, the memories of your relationship flooded your mind, triggered by the warm lighting on your skin and the spiced aroma filling the restaurant. You quickly spotted Jaehyun in the usual booth you’d sat in, somehow always empty for you two even on busy nights. He stood to greet you, hugging you loosely, before gesturing for you to sit. 

You noticed his eyebrow raise at your attire. You knew he knew you well enough that your appearance would tip him off somewhat to your intentions, you were slightly dreading having to explain to him your stupid idea. 

“Special occasion,” he questioned, nodding at your dress, eyes narrowing in on your necklace. 

You smiled, “Seeing you is a special occasion, right?”

At that he stopped, his eyes meeting yours once more, “Y/N, what are you up to?”

Your smile turned sheepish, shrugging slightly, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“In that dress?”

“Would be believe me if I said yes,” you joked. 

He laughed, making your heart warm. His laugh was always bright and contagious, it was one of your favorite things about him. 

“I’d think you have ulterior motives, Y/N. You know how I feel about that dress,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer next to him. 

You flagged down a waiter, ordering one for yourself, before facing him once more, “I do.”

Both of Jaehyun’s eyebrows raised at that, eyes narrowing at your figure, “You know the effect you have on me, Y/N, but you’re still married.”

You held back a sigh, not looking forward to explaining your dilemma, “I am, but the rules are…loose. And you’re the only one I was interested in.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyn started, suddenly much firmer, “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

The sudden concern made you melt, remembering why you’d loved him so much before, even though you’d dated for a relatively short amount of time. Your beer arrived next to you and you took a large sip to gain some courage. 

“I’m fine, promise. This is what I want.” That probably sounded believable enough.

Jaehyun hummed, taking another sip from his own glass, “Okay, then. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jaehyun’s apartment looked almost identical to the last time you’d been there, save for some new small pieces of decor. You didn’t have much time to observe it though, from the way Jaehyun was feverishly kissing you, pressing your body up against the door. 

He felt familiar and safe and the way his hands traveled down your body to slip past the hem of your dress was a nostalgic sensation. His mouth was attached to yours, kissing you without leaving you room to breathe, resulting in you gasping in breaths in the rare reprieves he did give you. He hiked up your leg against his waist before trailing his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone. 

Your grip on his shirt tightened as his fingers approached your underwear, tantalizing your first foreign touch in a while. Your breaths were short and quick, letting yourself swim in the sensation of Jaehyun’s breath ghosting the neckline of your dress. Your head fell back against the door, your mouth slightly open, and your chest heaving at his close proximity. The cold feeling of your necklace against your chest slowly lifted, causing you to glance down to see Jaehyun catching the pendant in his teeth and dragging it up your cleavage, shooting you a lopsided grin. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the side of his face and bringing him in for another kiss, this time more sloppy as the pendant slipped from his mouth. 

“Let me take you to the bed,” he whispered, tapping your thigh, and making you jump into his arms. He carried you into his bedroom, which you distantly noted hadn’t changed much either, and laid you down on his soft sheets, resuming kissing you while reaching for the zipper in the back of your dress. 

You felt his fingers travel along with the zipper down your back, erecting goosebumps in their wake, and the fabric slowly fell from your body. He lifted the dress off you leaving you in the purple lingerie you knew he enjoyed decorating your skin in sheer lace.

He grinned down at you, “Fuck, you know just what to do to me.”

He dove into the valley between your breasts and kissed down your navel, dragging his teeth along your skin. As you looked down at him, the sight of his black hair similar to another’s against your stomach suddenly made you feel slightly sick, and his veined hand and long fingers encircling your nipple had a striking resemblance to another pair of hands you appreciated. 

As Jaehyun’s mouth traveled towards your center, the sickly feeling grew and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt not only toward Yoongi but Jaehyun as well. 

What were you doing?

Why were you doing this? Just to prove a point? That you can also fuck other people?

The questions made your head spin and you sat up suddenly, startling Jaehyun. Burying your head in your hands, you mumbled out apologies to Jaehyun, and maybe Yoongi too. 

“Hey, what’s wrong,” Jaehyun asked, settling himself in beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun soothed, rubbing circles into your shoulder, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m so sorry, it just feels so unfair to you,” you opted to not mention the guilt you felt toward Yoongi as well, “I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s stupid.”

“Why is that,” Jaehyun prompted.

“We decided early on that our marriage would be open,” you managed to say in between quick breaths and wet heaves, “Well, he decided that. I didn’t want that, I actually like him.”

This felt pathetic.

“But I caught him yesterday, with someone else. Fuck, it shouldn’t even bother me, but it does,” you muttered angrily, “And I decided I’d sleep with someone else too, just because of that. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun turned your chin toward him, making you face him, “I’m an adult, I agreed to this. I did this because I wanted to, I wasn’t expecting us to start dating again. It’s okay that you tried this, and that you clearly aren’t comfortable with it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s so immature though, so petty,” you cried.

“So what? You can still be immature sometimes, you’re not perfect. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes. I’m glad you stopped before you did anything you would’ve regretted,” Jaehyun smiled kindly, wiping your tears. 

His words made you pause, echoing what you’d said about Yoongi to Joohee earlier that week. Your sobs dried up into short breaths and a cough, making Jaehyun get up to get you water. You sat on his bed feeling rather small and your damp underwear felt uncomfortable. 

Jaehyun’s comforting still didn’t get rid of the guilt you felt but his gentle smile upon returning with a glass of water eased it slightly. You sipped it, feeling yourself calm down, watching Jaehyun ruffle through his closet before pulling out a large shirt you’d often stolen from him during your relationship.

“Here,” he said, handing you the shirt, “Wear that, you can sleep here, I don’t want you out in this state. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that in your own home,” you protested, “Let me take the couch.”

Jaehyun raised his hand, silencing you, “I’m not hearing it. Please, just sleep here and let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lowering your gaze to the water in your lap. 

“And, Y/N,” he called, making you look up at him again, “I’m glad you reached out. We can always talk, I’m always here for you.”

You smiled, feeling emotional for a new reason now, his kindness washing over you in a soothing wave, “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m here for you too, whenever you need it.”

He grinned before whispering a quick goodnight and shutting the door behind him. 

Finally alone, you sighed. What a night. You still felt guilty, though you knew it wouldn’t do much good now, and you were honestly happy that you’d stopped things before it went too far. You were doing this for the wrong reasons, and even before you’d gotten engaged, you’d had no interest in sleeping with people. What transpired tonight was clearly just an attempt to get back at Yoongi, which was unfair to all parties involved, but especially Jaehyun. 

You felt a little disgusted with yourself for using him that way when he’d been nothing but sweet to you. What had you become?

Finishing your water, you stood and peeled the lingerie off of your body and slipped on Jaehyun’s giant college t-shirt. It felt a little weird to not be wearing anything but the shirt to bed, but you didn’t have much choice with your lingerie being disgusting at this point. You quickly gathered your soiled clothing and stuffed it into a plastic bag you’d found, planning to bring it home as discreetly as possible the next morning. That left you lying in Jaehyun’s bed, head still swimming with the events of the past 48 hours. 

In a way, you were glad this had happened, it had given you the confirmation that whoever your partner was, no matter the openness of the relationship, you weren’t interested in dating outside of your marriage. Even if you didn’t have any feelings for Yoongi, you still would’ve felt disgusted. You could hear Joohee chastizing you in your head about how you had a right to get even and that you deserved to have fun, but this wasn’t fun to you. It wasn’t appealing in the slightest. 

Despite the nightmarish evening, you felt content with where you were in your own sexuality. Maybe at some point, you would become comfortable enough to actually sleep with other people, but that wasn’t something you wanted to worry about right now. 

Right now, you weren’t near ready for that. What you needed was to have that conversation with Yoongi, and, with newfound courage, you resolved to have it by the end of the day tomorrow. 

With your new mission in mind, you felt yourself drift to sleep in the distantly familiar feeling of Jaehyun’s mattress and scent. 

The next morning had you feeling more embarrassed than guilty at the previous night’s events, and you quietly exited Jaehyun’s room, hoping not to wake him on the couch before leaving. Just your luck though that his door creaked loudly, making him sit up from his position on the couch. 

His bleary stare and messy hair made you smile as you waved a shy hello. He waved lazily with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, taking in the sight of you in just his shirt, your lingerie and dress sitting in the plastic bag hanging from your hand. 

“Damn, I really wish you weren’t married,” he slurred, likely still quite sleepy. 

You laughed, walking over to him, “If I get divorced, you’ll be my first call.”

He smiled loosely, still quite tired, “Yes, do that. Anyway, you can take one of my shorts, but please let me drive you back. I’m nervous about you going out like that.”

You nodded, “Okay, thanks. For everything, seriously.” You wanted to say more, but you weren’t sure how to phrase it. The unconditional kindness he displayed to you left you speechless and only more upset that he wasn’t the one you got to marry. 

The ride back to Yoongi’s apartment was fairly quiet, with Jaehyun still quite tired, as he was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Yoongi’s building, whistling at the height of the tower. You smiled and thanked him again, squeezing his hand, before opening the door to leave. 

“Hey, seriously, Y/N. Call me if you ever need anything, I’m always here to listen,” he said, watching you exit his car. 

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I really can’t thank you enough,” you responded, smiling at his waving off of your answer. You shut the door before steeling your resolve for what awaited you in Yoongi’s apartment. 

This was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was time to have an honest conversation with Yoongi. 

And you were going to be okay, no matter the outcome. 

Probably.

Yoongi was tipsy. He hadn’t seen you since last night when you’d come downstairs in the middle of him making out with some guy he’d found at the club with Taehyung and Seokjin. You seemed to know the guy, Jimin he remembers, and that made him feel odd. 

He wasn’t upset, no, he felt sick in his gut that you apparently knew the person he’d chosen to sleep with outside of your marriage. 

He wasn’t sure why it was so upsetting to him, you’d both decided early on to leave your relationship open. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did. But it didn’t stop the guilt that swirled in his stomach, making him reach for more whiskey. 

Something about your expression, just as you’d turned around after he’d noticed you. Your eyes were teary and you were biting your lip. Your eyebrows were knotted together and he could see the tight grip you had on the plate in your hands. 

Your expression made his heart clench. 

It was the most emotion he’d seen on your face, and you seemed unbelievably upset. And he had done that to you. 

What was worse was the way your face returned to its usual cold exterior only moments later, the epitome of calm and collected. Was Yoongi not worth becoming emotional over for you?

No, Yoongi wasn’t upset about that. No, he was upset that you felt the need to control yourself like that. Yoongi had grown up being taught to control his every emotion, his every expression, and any aspect of his body language, and it molded him into an emotionally stunted adult with only a few close friends with whom he could loosen up with. 

He had done that to you. 

Yoongi resisted the urge to slam his glass down on his desk. He was a piece of shit, he felt disgusting. 

You hadn’t come out of your room since last night and he wasn’t sure what to do. Did you even want to see him for him to apologize? He didn’t want to message you, the fear of being ignored was too great. 

Suddenly, he heard the front door open and close, and silence afterward. So you’d gone out. Fair enough, Yoongi couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t want to be around himself if he were you either. 

He didn’t want to be around himself as it was. 

Fuck.

He was getting in over his head. He remembered the feel of Jimin’s plush lips against his own and his skin under the rough pads of Yoongi’s fingertips, but he didn’t feel anything. It felt like he was forcing himself, going through the motions, desperate to find an answer to the confusion he’d felt since he’d married you. 

In a way, he’d found an answer. Yoongi was undeniably attracted to you, and only you. Jimin was a last-ditch effort to prove to himself that he wasn’t developing feelings for you, and that had failed. Catastrophically. 

This, however, brought a new dilemma for Yoongi, what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t fair to you for Yoongi to push these new feelings onto you after being caught with someone else. Yoongi knew that much. It’d only serve to be confusing and upsetting to you. So what was he supposed to do? 

Yoongi bit his lip, hard. When was the last time he’d had feelings for someone? Taehyung? That would’ve been years ago, when they’d first met, and Taehyung had had a girlfriend at the time. So Yoongi had pushed his feelings down and repressed them until they were no longer there and Taehyung was nothing but a good friend. 

But this was different. Yoongi was married to you, he had the opportunity to pursue his feelings. But what of the consequences? What if you didn’t want that? What if you were disgusted with him, now? Rightfully so, he mused. 

A sigh escaped his mouth as he refilled his whiskey glass, his head was starting to hurt. New whiskey was poured into his glass but he did not drink it.

Despite the fact that he’d finally come to terms with his budding affection for you, he’d never felt more lost and confused.  

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Haunted

Min Yoongi x Reader

Angst

“I’m forever haunted by the memory of you, no matter what I do…”

Ooof lord, I wanted to cry after reading this please don’t kill me!

The cool air hit your skin as your eyes clouded with tears, it was hard… it was so hard to fight the horrible feeling in your stomach and chest. Your stomach was churning with disgust, the urge to vomit was becoming unbearable….

You stilled in your wake, breath hitching in your throat as the person in the bed beside you turned themselves toward you. A rough hand finding its way to the curve of your hip. The sime touch brought along a burning sensation that was less than pleasurable.

You shut your eyes tight, praying for the pain in your chest to go away. It hurt so much to even breathe. Even as though you felt you were all cried out, your eyes never failed you as they brought a warmth to your cold face. Cascading down, reminding you of the smooth velvet of his skin.

The warmth of your tears reminded you of the light within him, that refreshing warm light that could only be described as ethereal. As you shut your eyes, willing your tears to cease their reign, you were burdened by the image of him.

His soft features, pale skin almost as soft as silk. His pouted lips that would form your name so beautifully. His dark eyes, almost as dark as coal except for the light that existed whenever he was happy. And he was happy. He was so happy.

You gritted your teeth, your lips so chapped the simple movement made them bleed. You could almost hear his voice in your head nagging you, asking you why you did the things you did…

As you calmed your breathing to the best of your capabilities, you slowly removed the hand resting on your skin. Making your way out of the tainted bed, you slipped on the ripped black jeans with ease. It seemed as if you had been here a billion times…

The sun was beginning to rise, the sky began to fill with rich shades of yellows, blues, and pinks. Some of the stars still shining bright despite the sun slowly making itself known. You looked back at the man on the bed, a complete stranger, you couldn’t even remember his name.

As you let yourself out, the morning air whipped around you and your boots hit the concrete with force as you trudged your way home. Your head a mess of thoughts as you still attempted to figure out where everything had gone wrong. As you gripped your purse tightly in one hand, the other found its way to the heart shaped locket hung around your neck.

The cold silver was refreshing against your fingertips, your surroundings passing you by like a blur. Your feet took the familiar path home, working on their own as your mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“Hey, it’s Yoongi… look please don’t be angry with me, I just… I cant string you along like this… We have to draw the line somewhere my love.”

His voice was so shaky and apologetic. You had only ever heard him sound like that twice in his life. The first time being when you had gotten in such a bad fight you threatened to leave him. You shook the memory out of your head, still hearing the shattered glass and sobs that broke the silence of the small once shared apartment.

The second time was when he had gotten the Job in Seoul, he was fulfilling his dream but he knew eventually he would have to leave you behind. Yet in that moment he was so happy, his eyes had almost never shown that bright. The cheers and sounds of multiple shared kisses was like music to your ears, you would do anything to feel that sensation again. To feel his affections once more.

“You know how important this is to me… But God, you don’t know how much this is killing me!”

The way his voice had cracked so clearly as if it was taking everything in him not to scream out his emotions that were ready to burst within himself, it had almost killed you inside.

As you looked up at the tiny light blue apartment complex in front of you, your chest constricted with an aching pain. So strong that it knocked all the wind out of you. A place you once called home with another, with him specifically was now just an empty space with too many memories.

You made your way up the stairs to the soft grey door and took the silver key out of your pocket, the small bend in the ridges making you smile softly to yourself. Remembering the way you had struggled one night to get in the house without making love to him right there on the porch. The way his hands skillfully memorized your body, it was like white hot fire dancing along your skin yet so familiar.

You pressed the key into the lock, it gave little to no push as the door clicked open revealing your cold apartment. How had your once beloved home become a place you dreaded being in? It was all because of him.

A sigh leaves your lips as you hang your coat and kick off your shoes. The feeling of the stranger with no name last night ghosts on your skin and you can’t shake the feeling. Within a few minutes, you’re in the shower under scalding hot water. Hot enough to burn, yet the feeling doesn’t go away.

“I’ve got to go to Seoul, I can’t take you with me. If I’m going to focus on this career I can’t have any distractions or ties to anyone outside the group. Please understand…”

As you hold your head in your hands, leaning slightly against the shower wall you’re haunted by his voice in your head. The water still burns once more, though it seems to soothe the ache in your limbs, it only seems to help the physical pain. After ridding of the evidence from the night before you’re snug once more in one of his old hoodies and sweats.

A cup of coffee warm under your finger tips as the sound of birds begin to fill your head, yet the taste of the coffee in your hands and the smell of him on his clothes that you adorn only seem to bring your mood down once again.

“Please… know that I love you, I love you so much… I’ll never forget you, I don’t even think that’s possible… so please don’t forget me, no matter who you meet. Know I’ll always be somewhere thinking of you… I’ll be back for you one day, I’ll make this right, I promise…Until we meet again. Take Care.”

Your limbs were aching as your head was throbbing in pain. As you listened to the voicemail for what seemed like the millionth time, you only sighed. It had been three years that he’s been gone. It didn’t even seem like reality.

For three years you had been going through hell and back as he was out there making his dreams come true. He probably didn’t even give a shit about you now, he had other things to worry about.

It was like something out of a story book. For years he had been in your life and then he was gone, just like that. All good things must come to an end one day right?

With your head in your crossed arms and the blood rushing to your head you could barely hear the soft sound of the front door clicking open. It was when you heard a soft voice mutter your name when your bloodshot eyes snapped wide open. Your head lifting slowly to look over at him in the door way.

“I told you I would come back for you, Please let me be with you once more. I still love you, so damn much.” He breathed shakily as you took in his appearance.

Anxiety and yet relief spread across his face as you took all of him in. His dusty converse, tight leather jeans, stripped hoodie and black hat resting atop his head. A duffle bag on his shoulder and his house key in his hand. His eyes held dark circles under them, his lips were raw from his habit of biting them whenever he was nervous.

His hair was bleached and tuffs of blonde stuck out, his once shiny black hair was no more. He dropped his bag without a care in the world and you stood up slowly, caught like a deer in the headlights. Wondering if your mind was playing a cruel trick on you, you stepped forward and reached out for him. His eyes shone bright as they took in the sight of the necklace around your neck, yet they grew dark at the deep dark colored marks the stranger had left on you the night before.

“Am I dreaming? Are you really here in front of me?” You whispered, almost afraid of the answer. “I’m here, I’m here now… I’m not leaving no matter what happens.” He said shakily once more as his hands found your face. His touch was still warm, it was him… it was really him.

“Remember me?” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours with so much passion you thought you would burn alive under his touch. His arms wrapping themselves around you, one of his hands gripping onto your hair pulling you closer to him. Your arms found their way to his neck, locking him in place whilst your hands knocked off his hat and immediately gripped at his bleached locks.

It was only when your thoughts of pure bliss and peace filled your head and was killing you into false hope when a high pitched ring and scream made you succumb to darkness…

Your heart beating so fast you swore you could hear it as you awoke in your bed, a cold sweat making you shiver in the darkness of your room as you sat up, your back rigid. Your eyes wandering over to the empty spot beside you, a heart wrenching sob wracking your body…

He had died three years ago, He never even had the chance to make it to Seoul…

frostbite (동상) ㅡ min yoongi (민윤기)

the second part can be found here

✧.* 18+

“cold as ice, hard as stone, never choose men over being alone,” was what your mother had found herself repeating to you your entire life. maybe not your entire life, actually. you couldn't really remember when the phrase was spoken into life, perhaps when you had turned twelve, thirteen; when you began to develop and mature, when push-up bras began to substitute training bras, when makeup began to gain significance, when she had noticed how older and younger men alike had started to smirk and leer more and more shamefully whenever you passed by.

it wasn't because she had it out for you. quite the opposite, actually. it was something her mother had sang to her, an invention of her own she had sang to life when hormones began to work faster than she could blink. she thought it would raise awareness as a subtle way for her to let her daughter know that no man could ever be trusted in the slightest, but your mother didn't care to listen. it worked the first few years of her adolescence; she avoided relationships all throughout high school and college, but all good things come to an end. after she had graduated and gone into finance the way she had planned, things took a turn when she met your father. no one could have predicted the outcome. their relationship moved quickly, but smoothly. their friends had sworn up and down that they could never imagine them in an argument, until they got married. with marriage came a child, you. with a child came more responsibilities, with which came more money spent. they spent and spent until they had nothing left to spend, and that's when the verbal arguments had reached a new low.

by the time you had turned fifteen, you found yourself consoling your mother as much as she allowed you to. it was draining, you found yourself asking the man in the sky for a way out. a way out was in store, just not for you. one night, just a little after midnight, your father had packed his bags and left after another one of their more tense fights, swearing to find a younger, prettier, richer woman. you had both assumed it was another one of his empty threats, but you would never come to know, as that was the last time either of you have seen or heard from him.

for weeks on end following his departure, your mother had no tears left to cry. she was too quiet, white in the face as if all the blood has been drained from her body. she wasn't interested in discussing what had happened ever again. more weeks passed and winter came along, and she had fallen ill. you had picked up a job at fifteen and worked as many shifts as you could just to keep the house warm, to keep food on the table at least until december's weather had passed. she knew you had been trying, and you knew she was grateful, but you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling as her condition worsened, as did the weather.

blizzards were uncommon in daegu. sure, it was normal to wake up to over ten inches of snow, but the storms just never seemed to take action. that's why you were surprised to have woken up just half an hour past four in the morning, to the sound of ice pounding on your windows and vicious wind blowing. your room was on the second floor, completely untouched, and you felt relieved for just a second. that second quickly passed when you called out for your mother, only to be met with silence. maybe she didn't hear you, maybe she had mistaken your voice for the wind; it's what you so badly wanted to believe as you made your way down the stairs. your heart stopped when you had realized that hope was more than a call away.

despite the untouched stairs and floor above, the living room she had been sleeping in was a wreck. the air was noticably colder, windows broken, glass shattered on the wet floor. the storm had done all the damage, yet that still wasn't the worst part. your mother was still on the couch, her skin as pale as ever. she was facing the ceiling, eyes open. you felt your heart sink to your stomach, and you've been dreading the feeling ever since. you've carried the grief ever since it happened, tears stinging whenever november made an appearance, whenever the temperature shifted. your mother had frozen to death, and how could you ever get over it, how could you ever function? you dreaded your father more than anything, knowing that if she could've beared to sleep in their shared room on the floor above, she would've been alive.

that was the first moment you had taken her words to heart. cold as ice, hard as stone, never choose men over being alone.

you had made it through the rest of high school without any interest in dating, or men in general. you had graduated the way you pictured yourself graduating, and you did it alone. it was a lonely road before anything else, but it was something you learned to live with. you spent your last summer as a high school student working to kill the time, waiting for the college season to start. everyone from your class had gone their separate ways, but you couldn't care less. every day seemed the same—wake up, eat, work, come home, eat, sleep. you went to sleep dreading the night, and woke up dreading the day. on one particular day, a man had stopped you in your tracks on the way to work. all he had to say was, “wouldn't hurt to smile, would it?” all it did was put a scowl on your face.

when summer had finally come to an end, you were the most ecstatic you've been in in the last four years. you couldn't wait to leave the house you grew up in—sell it, rent it out, it didn't matter. all you wanted was out. you ended up renting it out to an anonymous customer, which definitely should've raised some alarms, but you couldn't care less. they needed the house, you needed the money; they could've turned it into a meth lab for all you cared.

daegu university was located on the other side of town. it was a good college, despite how far away it was, which meant it was worth the agonizing drive. it was almost cartoonishly big, big and urban. nothing less was to be expected of a private school with a low acceptance rate and big bills. you had met with the principal of the university a total of three times. the first time was to congratulate you for being accepted, which had taken you aback. it was the first time in a long time you had allowed yourself to grin from ear to ear. the second time was just a few days later, he had shown you around the campus in advance, to avoid any confusion when the halls were packed to the brim. the third and final time was to get you comfortable in your dorm, where you met your dorm roommate.

the school itself was filled with spoiled, conceited kids with little to no knowledge and extended trust funds. it truly was a sight for sore eyes in the worst way possible. often did you find yourself rolling your eyes at their remarks and complaints, it was incredible how they could be so out of touch with reality and out of sync with the real world. you couldn't keep up with the rich people bullshit—stained shoes, last season clothes, companies going bankrupt. just a month into college, you learned to tune everything out, nearly everything.

your roommate took the cake, and you knew it. you felt the last shreds of your patience go numb when you had first met him. for the sake of your education, you told yourself that having a guy as your roommate would be no issue. you didb't want to leave a sour taste in the principal's mouth, so you put on a smile and complied. all you had to do was ignore him, just as you had been doing your whole life. he was quiet when you had first met, he was quiet throughout the many times you had spotted him during lectures or lunch. min yoongi—out of his entire group of friends, he seemed to be the most tame. that had lasted until he grew more comfortable and less mindful of your presence.

awake at the peak of midnight, you typed away at your laptop. your forehead was slick with sweat, hair tied back as you focused on your presentation. yoongi had gone out, perhaps with his friends. the room was quiet, aside from the sound of the wind whistling from outside. the silence didn't last as long as you needed it to, however, your heart practically skipping a beat as the door swung open. you really could've sworn you had locked it, making a mental note to double-check from that point on. the room was dark, so you couldn't make out who had entered until the lights flickered on. the smell of soju was pungent as yoongi stumbled into the room, making your nostrils flare. you couldn't bite back the groan that left your mouth as he stumbled in, only because he wasn't entering alone, for the third night in a row. he had come in with another sorority girl, hand around her waist as their lips remained locked in a drunken dance, their feet tumbling over each other. yoongi waved you off as if to let you know he didn't give a shit, you could either stay and watch or leave, so you left for the third night in a row. you took your laptop with you and remained sat outside of the door, typing hastily while you prepared yourself for yet another night of listening to their ten minutes of pleasure.

while you continued to type away, you felt a tap on your shoulder. already pissed off, you bit back a hiss as you snapped your head to the side. greeted by your friend's smile, you were relieved you didn't snap at him. “shit, third night in a row? he's on a roll, isn't he?” kim taehyung was the first person that introduced himself to you, and on your first day, too. at first, you had no interest in being his friend, but quickly warmed up to him once you realized just how much you had in common. he was from bukgu, just like you. he liked the same things you did, but more importantly, disliked the same things as you—men and rich people. men, more or less—he cheered you on when you found yourself ranting about men and their behavior, even if he did it jokingly. his vendetta against the rich was what made him stick out, as he had gotten into the university due to his promising resumé, accepting a full scholarship. with that being said, he was always respectful towards you, treating you as a friend and nothing more.

“i don't know how you can stand to hang out with him,” you responded, typing away as he allowed himself to sit next to you, throwing a glance at the screen. “he's a good friend, don't sweat it,” he paused, a smile crossing his lips. “but i'm not dumb enough to live with him, fuck no.”

yoongi was all too quiet, even with his friends, but he made up for that with many habits that failed to please you. those habits ranged from chainsmoking to excessive drinking to the dehumanizing way he fucked every girl with two legs and a functioning mouth. shit, it didn't matter if the girls had two legs or three, he'd find a way to spread them as long as he was in the mood, but they'd never get a glance from him the next day, let alone a text back. he'd just move onto the next victim.

“you could hold me at gunpoint and i still wouldn't know what these girls see in him,” you scoffed. you really didn't know. sure, he was a good-looking guy, you weren't gonna go out of your way to lie and call him ugly, but nobody could be good-looking enough to risk your self-respect.

taehyung seemed like he was actually thinking about it for a second, the faint sound of moans and groans from behind the door adding to his brain fog, “i think he just has a really big dick, yeah?” you shot him a look, almost concerned, “you seem to do a lot of thinking about his dick, anything you wanna tell me?” you teased, earning a joking punch to the shoulder.

“how charming,” he sneered, all you could do was laugh. he paused for a second as the moans began to die down. “there is something i wanna ask you, though.”

you stopped your typing, peeling your eyes off the screen in order to face him. “yeah, go ahead.” he seemed hesitant, a nervous smile crossing his face, and you couldn't help but worry about what was to come. “you can't say no right away, you have to hear me out,” he was only making it worse. “i'm supposed to go to this kid's frat party tomorrow night, and i wanna bring a guest, yeah?”

your face couldn't help but twist up in pure confusion. it wasn't that you were a total stone cold bitch that was gonna leave him high and dry, but you had never been to a party in your life. “and out of all the potential victims in this school, you wanna go with me?” he nodded, almost eagerly, as if the answer was supposed to be obvious. “duh, who else am i supposed to go with?” you could've inquired, but you didn't dare argue back, you didn't have the patience to. instead, you waited a second before agreeing. you didn't have to stay overnight, just a couple hours to keep taehyung company.

“okay, yeah, come to the dorm and we'll go, what time is it?” you asked as you closed your laptop, the painful silence from behind the door being a good enough sign that you could come back in. “i'll come by around eight, thanks for this, i owe you one.” you nodded as he gave you a hug goodbye, watching as he scurried down the hall and back to his own dorm.

you let out a sigh of exasperation, hand sliding down your face as the realization hit you. you didn't know the first thing about social gatherings, let alone about the ones with wannabe elite socialities that'll have too much to drink. the thought made your stomach churn as you reached for the doorknob, but before you could open the door, you had been beaten to it.

from the other side, the girl yoongi had brought to the dorm had swung the door open, stopping in her tracks as she locked eyes with you. she was a pretty girl, but the look she gave you was enough to make your blood boil. she didn't say a word, but the look itself was so nasty, you felt as dirty as she did. as she stomped away, you could hear the sound of yoongi's laughter from the room. “feisty one, isn't she?” he asked as you finally came in, making sure to lock the door this time. “charming girl, you sure know how to pick them,” you rolled your eyes.

he turned to face you as you walked in, wearing nothing but his short as he made himself comfortable, pressing a cigarette to his lips. the look you threw him was incredible, almost mimicking the one tonight's vencido shot you just a few seconds prior. “do you really have to smoke that shit in here?” you asked as he lit the tip of it. he raised an eyebrow, as if offended. “you got lung cancer?” the question had little to no relevance, but you shook your head. “then, what's the problem?”

“it smells like shit,” you hissed, waving your hand at the smoke drifting in your direction. he couldn't help but chuckle as he made his way over to the sofa, kicking his feet over the side. “hold your breath, open a window if you have to.” you scoffed as you watched his eyes close, cigarette tucked between his lips. you opened both of the windows in the room, greeting with fresh air with open arms. it was the last thing you had said to one another before you went to sleep, physically too tired to argue any further.

the following morning came too quickly, the sunlight from the window that had been, once again closed, practically blinding you, even while your eyes were closed. you could barely open them, head groggy as you powered through it. despite the bright rays, it wasn't what you saw that had awoken you from your slumber, but what you had heard.

it was about seven in the morning, maybe a few minutes last seven. whatever time it was, you knew it was too early to be listening to whatever it was you were listening to. you could make out two loud voices; one was yoongi's, the other belonged to a girl. for a second, your blood ran cold at the thought of him hooking up with a girl while you were awake, but the fear went away as your vision began to clear up. they were both half-naked; not fucking, just arguing.

“you're a fucking asshole, you've always been a fucking asshole,” the girl yelled, voice piercing your ears. you could make her frame out, definitely wasn't any of the past three girls that came in. she was much smaller than yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest but to avail as she continued to yell and cry. “you think fucking my best friend is funny, asshole? or the other sluts you have in here every fucking night? or the whore in your bed at seven in the morning?”

you scrunched your face up, offended at the assumption, but you remained in your position, not wanting them to notice your presence in case the situation worsened. “you better watch that fucking mouth of yours,” you heard yoongi respond. he didn't yell at her, he didn't hit back. his voice was almost stoic. “she's not a fucking whore, she's my roommate and she's sleeping, so either be quiet or get the fuck out.” you were almost pleased with his answer, it was the closest thing you'd ever get to him being nice to you. unfortunately, she didn't like that answer at all.

“get fucked, you son of a bitch,” was the last thing she said before leaving, and she didn't go quietly. she left the dorm with heavy footsteps and a deafening slam of the door. yoongi paused, reaping the insult with only a second of eerie calmness. when the wave of calm had passed, you felt your body jolt as he threw the television's remote control at the door, muttering a string of angry curses as he did so. only then did he turn around, watching the way you stared in surprise.

he tilted his head back down, almost as if he felt sorry, “sorry if i woke you up, go back to bed.” you shook your head, pushing the blanket off as you swung your legs off the bed. it was much too late to go back to sleep anyway. “all good, i gotta get to class anyway.” he raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter as he pressed another cigarette to his lips. you watched him light it up in shock, it was still seven in the morning.

“what the fuck kind of classes do you have this early?” you rolled your eyes as you brushed out your hair, getting done only what was necessary before leaving for your morning lecture. “management accounting,” you murmured a response. he raised his eyebrows, keeping his distance as he blew smoke into the air.

“studying finance, really?” you nodded in response, unable to tell if he was impressed or disgusted. “that's cool,” he said softly. “my step-dad studied finance, too. says it's a pain in the ass.”

perhaps you had were too comfortable in that moment, perhaps you were just too tired and out of it to register what was coming out of your mouth. “my mom studied finance, she was really good at it,” your eyes had locked, but only for a second. it wasn't long enough to carry too much significance, but not short enough to go unnoticed. you coughed, “i'm gonna go to class.” he nodded silently, watching you grab what you needed before heading towards the door. he watched you leave for your lecture, cigarette still pressed to his lips, but not before opening the window.

your classes had lasted longer than you had anticipated, the one hour mark stretching for another two hours. by the time you had finally finished, you felt the second wave of exhaustion flood your system. the morning wasn't even through, and you were ready to give up and go back to bed, but you couldn't. as you left the classroom, dreading whatever your schedule had in store for you next, you felt an arm sling around your shoulders as you walked down the hallway.

“hey, loser,” taehyung cooed in your ear, ruffling your hair as you scoffed, delivering a playful slap to his arm. “going to your morning classes like a good little geek, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes as you peeked at your schedule, smiling as you realized your next class was with your friend. “remember those words when you're working for me in ten years, jackass.”

he feigned offense as he placed his hand on his forehead in a dramatic fashion. “so so cruel, i would truly rather work at a gas station.” you couldn't help but laugh as you both made your way into the next classroom. you couldn't help but admire how elegant the classrooms were, truly a hit or miss product of capitalism. unfortunately, you weren't given much time to admire as you both stopped in your tracks in the middle of the room.

“min yoongi taking english literature,” taehyung was the first to react, equally as surprised as you were. he laughed as he walked up to his friend, who was seated in the back row, arms crossed with a faint smile on his face. “you do realize the class doesn't come with a free ashtray, right?” you faintly trailed behind him as they dapped each other up, the most unnecessary display of masculinity, you thought.

“yeah, don't be too shocked, my parents aren't paying for me to smoke all day,” yoongi responded. his faint smile grew more and more faint as he watched you come up behind taehyung. his gaze switched from you to him. “you two friends?”

you had opened your mouth to say something along the lines of “none of your fucking business,” but your friend was much quicker than you. taehyung wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more, ruffling your hair as you protested. “(y/n)? no, she's my hostage, as you can see.” you sighed in defeat, knowing it was no use. “you're such an ass,” you hissed. yoongi didn't say a word, he just stared. his gaze continued to flicker, but he remained quiet. even as you found your seat next to taehyung, just across from yoongi, he stayed quiet. silent, though his gaze never left the two of you, and you could almost feel it.

morning classes seemed to be the last of your problems as the day went on. everything was normal until you returned to your dorm, the panic you had been fighting since last night finally settling as you checked the time. you had exactly an hour to get ready before taehyung would come to pick you up. exactly an hour to find an outfit, put some decent makeup on, and get the courage to not pussy out. yoongi was nowhere to be found as you entered the dorm.

your wardrobe wasn't necessarily limited, as you had brought everything that could fit you. anything that couldn't was given to charity before you rented out the house, it was the smartest thing to do. you kept everything in a narrow closet, alongside some jewellry your mother had kept in a dainty box. it was a weird sensation, even after so many years, running your fingers through the fabric would never not strain your heart. you gulped back the melancholic nostalgia as you raked through the clothes. finally, you pulled out a dress hanging from above, one that had caught your eye.

it was anything unlike you had ever worn, because it wasn't yours. it was a dress your mother had worn when she was just a bit younger than you. despite what she believed in, she was the life of the party, unlike you. she knew how to let loose, and she wasn't afraid to express herself through her clothes. the dress was almost skimpy, she loved giving men the wrong impression. she loved knowing they could look because, they'd be looking either way, but they could never have her. she was in control, and the dress was gorgeous. a gold dress with thin straps, entirely tight and made to hug the body of whoever chose to wear it. it wasn't what you were used to, not at all. you loved the fact that it was pretty, but you loved the fact that your mother felt pretty in it even more.

if it wasn't her dress, you were entirely sure you wouldn't have liked it. the sensation of putting it on and embracing it was even weirder than the feeling of finding it. nonetheless, you slipped into the dress as you stood in front of the mirror. the dress was even more beautiful on you rather than in your hands. it was just as you imagined—tight, hugging every part of your body from your chest to your thighs, but beautiful. the light from the room did it more than enough justice, it glimmered.

even as you did your makeup, you couldn't help but give all your attention to the dress. it made you feel warm on the inside, the fact that you had a part of your mother clinging to your skin. it was as if she had never left. when you finished, with your face touched up, the heels you wanted, and the gold ring on your finger, all you could do was admire the dress in the mirror.

“holy shit,” were the words that finally snapped you back to reality, your body jolting as your head turned to the source of the sound. you hated how bad your instincts were when you were distracted, it was one of the reasons why taehyung could tease you as much as he did without you reacting. you froze, not knowing what to do.

“shit, i didn't mean to scare you, i'm sorry,” yoongi continued. he was equally as frozen as you were, having stopped himself in his tracks as he stared at you, eyes scanning you from head to toe. “it's just that you look really nice. the dress is—really nice.”

you almost felt bad for staying quiet. it wasn't that you were ungrateful, you just didn't know what to say. for a moment amidst your silence, yoongi continued to admire you for a moment longer, turning on his heel when he realized you had gone mute. “wait,” you practically blurted out, stopping him in his tracks once more. “thank you. it was my mom's.”

he didn't turn back around, but he remained in place as he felt his heart tighten at your words. “doesn't fit her anymore?” his tone was almost hopeful, as if he was hoping that would be the case. you went quiet for a second, before the answer came out entirely too quickly, as if you had thrown it up. “it would've if she was still here. she passed away, few years ago.”

you regret it the second it had come out, but that was the thing about word vomit; just like regular vomit, you could never take it back. now, it was his turn to be silent. you were entirely sure that you had creeped him the fuck out, but he felt that it was far from that. his heart tightened, it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. he responded as he turned around, finally facing you. “i'm sorry,” he murmured. “my dad passed away some years back, too. storm was bad.” he had mentioned his step-father, but never his actual dad. you felt for him, and he felt for you.

you opened your mouth, ready to offer some form of support, but the distinct pounding on the door was quick to cut you off. “come in,” yoongi muttered out, loud enough for whoever it was to here. taehyung wasted no time opening the door, practically cheering as he came in, unable to read the room.

“is my hostage ready?” his voice had dropped a few octaves as he neared the end of the question, walking into the room as he locked eyes with you. it was something about you in the dress rather than the dress itself, and yoongi was quick to notice his reaction.

“what're you doing here?” he asked taehyung, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes at his shell-shocked reaction. for a second, he focused. “i'm here for (y/n), we're going to the wang party.” never had you heard of that name in your life.

yoongi raised an eyebrow before turning back to you. “you didn't say you were going to jackson wang's shitty frat party,” he sounded almost displeased. you shrugged, “what's it to you?” you and taehyung exchanged a glance as yoongi scoffed, the agitation expanding.

“his entire frat has a thing for roofies and rape,” he paused to shoot taehyung a look. “but i'm sure your friend already told you about that.”

it was your turn to shoot taehyung a look, who already had his hands up. “you really think i'd let something happen to her?” he asked, his tone slightly colder than usual. yoongi scoffed at the rhetorical question, “go on, then,” was all he uttered out.

you knew you didn't need any help, and that you were perfectly capable of handling yourself, which included the decisions you made. still, it didn't change the fact that leaving the dorm held more tension than it was supposed to. taehyung shut the door as you left, leaving yoongi in distress that he chose not to make obvious. instead, he chose to ignore the way it nagged him as he turned the television on, hoping it would just go away.

“roofies and rape? you guys are such a fucking cliché,” you muttered as you made your way down the hall with your friend. as oblivious as you were, for taehyung, it was a blessing, because you failed to notice the glances sent your way. he thought you were gorgeous, he thought the dress was gorgeous, up to the point where he could barely register what you were saying. “okay, yeah, ignore yoongi. i told you, i'm not gonna let anything happen, no way.” you knew he wouldn't, but you couldn't shake the feeling of unease as taehyung knocked on the door. the way yoongi acted, the way he talked, it was such a drastic and quick shift.

the generic music and cheers weren't audible until the door opened, you began wondering who you had to ask to get a thick door like that for some very necessary sound blockage. the guy who opened the door was familiar, you were sure you had seen him around campus before. “what's up, jackson?” they greeted each other with a laugh before the guy turned to you, with an almost unsettling spark in his eyes as he did so.

“good to see you, tae,” he spoke a little louder in order to combat the loud music. “and who do we have here?” the flickering colorful lights lit up the room, and you could make out what seemed to be hundreds of people in there, much to your disbelief. there was no logical reason for there to be that many people at one dorm party.

you introduced yourself, a friendly but equally forced smile on your face. “yeah, you're yoongi's roommate, aren't you?” you nodded in response, and you could tell that jackson wasn't too pleased with your roommate. “we should get you a drink then, make it easier to deal with him.” you feinged a laugh as you agreed, shooting taehyung a desperate look. you didn't need to say anything as you followed jackson in, your friend has already burned holes in the back of his head with his glare.

“i'll get us drinks, is that cool?” he could've sworn he saw jackson's face flash with disappointment, but the host obliged, nonetheless. you knew it was the best way for you to not get your virginity taken by the proclaimed roofie rapist, but you couldn't help but panic as taehyung left, even if it was for a good cause.

everybody was a sweaty, drunk mess. the party had started a mere fifteen minutes ago, yet the dorm was packed to the brim with careless, leering students looking to blow some steam off. you found yourself with your pressed against the wall as you created as much distance as possible. “i'm guessing it's your first frat party,” jackson said, only a few feet away from you. you avoided eye contact as best as you could, though you could barely hear him. “first party in general,” you corrected him. “not really my type of scene.”

he chuckled as he closed a few inches of distance off between you two. “that's what i figured,” you quite literally had nowhere to go, with the wall pressing into your back. “must be why you came with your boyfriend, right?” you laughed, but it wasn't in a mocking way, as if you had taken slight offense. “no, taehyung's not my boyfriend, i don't do boyfriends.” you made sure to put emphasis on the last bit.

jackson raised his eyebrows, taking a mere step closer as the lights flashed. he wasn't an unattractive guy, but you needed to take caution. “all the girls here tend to come with their boyfriends,” he gestured towards the many couples easily spotted behind him, all of them a sweaty mess of hormones, grinding and kissing without a care in the world. “rumor's going around that i'm not a nice guy, so they wanna be careful,” you couldn't tell if he was covering his tracks or not, but he was too close to your face, and the alcohol on his breath was no consolation. “what about you? you think i'm a nice guy?”

you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, and you truly didn't know how to answer. his eyes bored into yours as a smirk played on your face, your mouth open but no word vomit. before you could waste another second thinking, you glanced at his side, watching taehyung stride over with two drinks, as if on time.

“here you go,” he broke the silence, and relief washed over you. once again, jackson attempted to mask his disappointment with a smile. taehyung handed you a glass of something clear, strong. you knew it was strong, whatever it was, but the tension was so cruel, you couldn't help but down the contents of the cup, as if to ease how unsettled you felt.

whatever it was left a disgusting taste in your mouth, almost like nail polish. your friend watched you, almost concerned, while jackson let out a laugh. “i have a feeling it isn't your first time,” a comment that earned him a glare and a half. you shook your head, “i'm not a drinker,” you argued. “but i'll take more of it.”

this time, taehyung pulled you to his side. “great idea, let's go,” he urged, earning him the third look of disappointment of the night, but he paid no mind. he knew that no reaction, was the best reaction. a frown formed on your face as he dragged you through the tight crowd, leading you to the coolers on the wooden table. he shot you a look, “stay away from jackson,” was all he said as he passed you another drink, this time, a can from the cooler. something less strong to kill the burning sensation in your throat. all you could do was nod.

by the time you had gotten your fair share of drinks down your system, the atmosphere around you began to shift drastically. it was less tense, more refreshing. the more lightheaded you felt, the easier it was to let loose. the worse your vision had become, the more flushed you felt as your blood pumped. you had left taehyung's side, the succumbing to the foreign feeling as you joined the crowd despite his calls of disapproval. you knew he'd come after you, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was absolutely nothing. you just liked the way it felt, swaying to the music as if nothing mattered. unfortunately, everything mattered, and not everyone was as unaware as you were. jackson watched you from the sidelines, and he was focused, despite the many drinks that were clashing in his system. he couldn't not focus on you.

as the night wore on, situations varied. in one dorm, the music was loud. the flashing lights provided no sanctuary, and the drinks were practically freezing despite the immense heat. in one dorm, everybody was having a fantastic time. in another dorm, the silence was deafening.

yoongi had put out what may have been his final cigarette of the night. his throat had grown tight, and his stomach had started to churn. he knew it wasn't because of the cigarettes, no. he had put so many of them out just to ease the aching concerns in his mind as he watched the clock tick. a minute had past, followed by an hour. then, another hour. by the time the box was empty, it was almost midnight, and he couldn't think. with his fingers intertwined, nose pressed against them, he let out a sigh. why were you still there? why hadn't you come back yet? did something happen? it was all he could think about. it wasn't that he cared, he just didn't want anything to happen to you; it'd put his reputation in a tough spot, seeing as you were his roommate and all. at least, that's what he wanted to believe in.

the sound of the clock ticking was almost mocking, as was the way the hand moved in the slowest fashion possible. when another fifteen minutes had passed, he glanced at the door, hoping he'd see you stumble in. maybe not sober, but alive and untouched. when the last speck of hope faltered, he found himself pulling his weight off the couch. “fuck this,” he practically spat, snatching the door keys off the drawer before making his way out.

you were unaware of what was happening behind the door, outside of your makeshift sanctuary. you had finally reached the point of betrayal, only then could you see why you had avoided alcohol for so long. as your head span, so did the room. the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had quickly replaced the short-lived euphoria you had felt up until then. as your dancing faltered, you found yourself tumbling in the opposite direction, practically tripping over your own two feet.

before you could cause yourself any harm, you felt a familiarly unfamiliar touch embrace your waist, preventing you from falling onto your back. for a second, everything went quiet, relief coursing through your veins. the relief was as short-lived as the bliss. “caught you just in time, didn't i?” you heard jackson murmur, his breath hot against your ear. your vision was blurry, and you were slurring your words as if you had a lisp. you didn't want him to know how drunk you were, you didn't want him to take advantage of it, but he was no fool. “yeah, thanks'o much,” he only chuckled in response.

in an attempt to pull yourself away from him, you found yourself staring at him face-to-face, as his grip never left your waist. you could barely make out his figure, let alone muster the strength to run away. your mouth was open, but it was as if your brain was too slow to form any sentences. “feel bad, don't you?” his voice was soft, almost comforting but borderline mocking. all you could do was nod. “we should go, get you taken care of. my friend's gotta spare room, yeah?”

your hands were pressed up against his chest, as if in attempt to push away from him, but no force was emitted. under any other circumstances, you'd have had no problem leaving, but things just weren't playing in your favor. he smirked, leaning in towards your face as his hot breath fanned your neck, nose grazing the side of your jaw. you pressed your eyes shut, hoping it would all go away, but it never did.

“it's a shame your friend left you here,” he practically purred in your ear. his fingers grazed your collarbone as his free hand slid down your hip, reaching to cup your ass as he let out a sigh at the feeling. “pretty thing like you, nothing good's bound to happen, right?” you couldn't fight back. for the first time in forever, you couldn't fight back, and you hated it. you hated how you were at his disposal, there for him to use without a care in the world. you kept your eyes shut, still hoping it would all stop and go away. and finally, it did.

it didn't go away quietly—within seconds, you could feel a tight grip ripping you away from jackson, a force so aggressive, you felt your heart stop for a split second. you felt as if you didn't need to second-guess who it was, thinking taehyung had finally located you and came to your rescue, but your suspicions were denied once you turned around. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” despite being free from his grasp, jackson's yell made you wince. he came closer once more, but he didn't face you this time.

yoongi came just as close as he did, mere inches away from his face as he levelled with him. “dunno, jackson, she looks pretty drunk to me,” he sneered in his face. you were behind yoongi, with one of his arms pressing into your front in an attempt to block the distance between you and jackson. by that point, the music had started to falter, and people were growing more and more interested in the scene that was unfolding. “you can take the roofies and rape bullshit somewhere else, i'll fucking kill you and you know it.”

for a second, jackson almost seemed hesitant to react, as if he was scared of the man in front of him. that second passed, but it didn't go unnoticed before he chose his next words, “i should leave my bullshit here and fuck her 'till she's sober, in case you wanted to watch.” had he chosen anything else to say, maybe the situation wouldn't have escalated the way it did so fast. because, in one swift motion, jackson plummeted into the ground beneath his feet, his neck bending backwards in an almost animated way as yoongi's fist collided with the bottom of his jaw.

“holy shit,” was all you could breathe out, screams emitting from the crowd of people behind you as you watched jackson's bloody gums shine under the lights. your body told you to move forward, pressing into yoongi's arm as you took a step towards jackson. the man beside you almost instantly looked back at you as he pushed you off with just enough force to make you stumble back.

for a second, you and yoongi locked eyes. your eyebrows furrowed, a look of concern in your eyes mixed with the profound melancholy of a lack of thoughts. your brain was moving too slow, you thought you looked stupid, but he thought you looked beautiful. it pissed him off how beautiful you looked, and it was all you could see in his eyes. anger, anger, anger. anger, and a speck of something else that you couldn't quite figure out.

“you've gotta be fucking joking,” your head snapped towards the source of the sound, and you spotted taehyung rushing to your side. first, all of his anger was directed towards jackson, but the anger quickly shifted to your roommate once he realized jackson had been dealt with. “where do you get off shoving her?” yoongi scoffed at the question, watching the way your friend came up to you from behind, his annoyingly protective hands cupping your shoulders as he watched you, hoping to see you were okay.

“where do you get ditching her in a place like this?” was yoongi's response. everything went quiet, too quiet, as he and taehyung locked eyes. you were afraid, too afraid that your friend would end up in the same position as jackson. “it's crowded, i went to the bathroom and couldn't find her,” taehyung's defense was reasonable, as you had given him permission to go, promising you'd be fine for a minute or so before making your way to the dance floor. yoongi laughed, but there was no humor to be traced, “that's funny seeing as i found her the second i came in here.”

the silence physically made your stomach twist, and they could both see it from the way your abdomen clenched as you bent forward. people had started whipping their phones out, snapping photos ane taking videos as hushed whispers began to fill the air. “let's get you out of here,” taehyung murmured, ignoring what yoongi said as to avoid any further discomfort, but you knew yoongi. everybody knew him. as your friend pulled you by one arm, leading you towards the exit, you both stopped in your tracks. from your other side, yoongi kept his grip on your hand tight. you couldn't fully grasp the situation, but his unfamiliar touch had a different feeling than jackson's. they were both foreign, but only one was welcomed.

“go home, taehyung,” yoongi uttered out, and oncr again, they locked eyes. the tension was palpable, and you couldn't stand the way their cold gazes matched one another so well. when taehyung's eyes left his, they met yours. you wanted to go home so bad, the situation was killing you from the inside. so, you held his gaze and nodded. he let out a sigh as he let your arm go, ever so hesitantly. “i'll call you,” was what he said before he finally turned on his heel. yoongi practically sneered—“no, you won't,” was what he so badly wanted to say.

the morning which had followed was no easier than the previous night. you couldn't remember the last time you felt so sore, the pounding in your head never seeming to ease. you blinked, more than what was deemed natural, as you opened your eyes to the blinding sunlight. you could hear your roommate, but had yet to see him. “weather's getting colder,” was what you could make out as you propped yourself onto your elbows. “enjoy the sun while it lasts.” unfortunately, he had a point. you stopped straining your eyes, allowing the sunlight to do its work. now, you could see him, standing next to the open window with a cigarette in his hand.

“what time is it?” you asked, exhaustion laced in your voice as your brain had begun picking up the pieces of last night's rezendevous. “about ten,” your head snapped, realizing you had missed two of your morning classes. “but don't even think about going anywhere.” you looked up to meet his gaze as he blew smoke out the window.

your whole body was tense, and only when you stepped out from under the covers did you realize just how right he was about the weather. “why's it so fucking cold?” you couldn't help but ask, the borderline freezing weather leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “it's almost winter,” yoongi responded, just as dryly. “fucking hate winter.” you let out a humorless laugh, as if to agree. if there was one thing to agree on, it was that.

your phone vibrated on your desk, and as you peered over to see who had been bugging you so early in the morning, taehyung's face flashed on the screen once more. “so annoying,” yoongi spoke once more. “he's been doing that all morning.” you shot him a look as you scurried to pick up your phone, “and you didn't think to answer him?” you asked, watching him take the last drag of his cigarette. he shrugged you off, earning an eye roll as you finally picked up taehyung's call.

“thank god, everything okay?” you heard his panicked voice from the other side, before even getting a chance to greet him. “yeah, just woke up,” you murmured, your heart pounding as you recalled just how bad it had gotten the night prior. you could recall the drinks, the lights, jackson. most importantly, you could recall yoongi, and how he had rushed in, potentially stopping you from getting assaulted. the phone was pressed against your ear as you looked up to meet his eyes once more. from the way he looked at you, you knew he recalled it just as well. because, he looked at you as if he wanted nothing to happen to you.

“i'm really sorry for leaving, i should've held it in a little longer,” your friend's apologetic voice rang once more. you shook your head as if he was there, but your eyes never left yoongi's, “no. tae, it's alright. it would've happened either way, it's not your fault.” you could've sworn yoongi's gaze dropped at the mention of his name, but either way, the eye contact had finally broken. you spoke to your friend a minute longer, dismissing his apologies and promising you'd see each other for lunch. he wanted you to spend it with him and his friends, seeing as that would be much safer than being alone. you complied.

when you finally hung up, you allowed yourself to face reality once more. “there's advil in the cabinet,” yoongi spoke. this time, his tone was colder than anticipated. you thanked him, allowing yourself to get ready for whatever it was the universe had in store for you.

by the time lunch had rolled around, you found yourself waiting for your friend once more. this time, for a much safer setting. taehyung and his friends normally spent that period outside, taking up a bench or two while they hung out. as you walked with him, you could feel just how unfamiliar and harsh the air had grown. he noticed your discomfort, but said nothing, as you were near the spot anyway.

you couldn't recognize any of his friends. sure, you had seen them around campus. maybe even in a class or two, but you knew none of them personally. all but one. as you walked up to the bench, yoongi was the last to notice you, but the first to meet your gaze. “this is (y/n), she's gonna be joining us today,” taehyung introduced you, and you forced a smile. the smile was returned as the boys introduced themselves, all but one. yoongi remained silent, but never took his eyes off you. all of the boys were locals, all from daegu, but all of them seemed to harbor the same personality as taehyung, regarding the rich people bullshit. they seemed nice, down-to-earth, until the questions rolled in.

“you were at that party last night, weren't you?” one of the boys, who had introduced himself as dongwon, asked. though hesitant, you nodded, earning a sound of astonishment from him. “yeah, jackson's a real asshole. he didn't put his hands on you, did he?” you tensed up at the thought, with dongwon earning a look of disapproval from taehyung. you weren't the only one uncomfortable—from the corner of your eye, you could see yoongi fidget with his fingers, perhaps at the mention of what went down last night.

“no, not really,” you responded, recalling the way he had you backed up against the wall, the way his fingers so desperately waited for further access beside your waist. “not really?” dongwon repeated, as if confused. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

you shrugged, as if hesitant to go into further detail. “he didn't get to do much touching, nothing too bad,” you paused, watching the way nearly all of them listened carefully. “tried to kiss me, had his hand on my ass but that's really all—” before you could finish your thought, everybody's attention shifted to yoongi, who had pushed himself off the bench and onto his feet, throwing his can into the bin behind him more aggressive than necessary. “yoongi, what's your deal—” once again, you found yourself being cut off by the same man. once he was on his feet, his grip was on your elbow, practically dragging you away from the group and back into the school.

you thrashed, but it was no use, you couldn't pull yourself out of his grasp. he was too strong and too determined, as he pulled you into the first empty hallway he could find. once he had found the spot, you found yourself in an all too familiar position, with your back pressed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” you hissed, but your voice was weaker than usual. you didn't know if it was because of last night's antics, or because of the current tension. “what's wrong with me?” he repeated, tone equally as harsh. “where do you get off talking about shit like that?”

now, you were just confused. “what the hell are you talking about? he asked me a question.” yoongi rolled his eyes, you truly had no idea why he was so mad. especially at you, what was it that you said wrong? “why didn't you call me when he touched you?” this time, his tone was more gentle, and the confusion had been replaced with shock. “if i had come in a second later,” he stopped himself mid-sentence, not wanting to imagine just how much the situation could have escalated.

your face softened at his words, it was almost like he felt guilty for not having stopped you when he had the chance. “you came,” you said. “you came, and i'm grateful you did.” your words comforted him, just a little bit. in the end, the important part was that someone intervened. even if it happened to be your roommate. for a moment, you saw him smile, but perhaps it was too much. he knew it was, so he followed it up with an eye roll, “it was a pain in the ass, had to watch over you, missed breakfast and lunch and everything,” he paused, as if the lightbulb in his head came to light. “you owe me lunch.”

you owed him lunch, and it took every cell in you to avoid ripping his head off his neck. it was the least you could do, it really was. it wasn't like you didn't know how to cook, of course you did. it was one of the first things your mother had made sure she taught you on time. but it was something about the almost smug smile he was wearing as he made himself comfortable on the chair, while you whisked away by the stove. “and don't even think about poisoning it,” you heard his taunting voice from behind. “the death penalty's legal now.”

for a moment, you even considered it. you opted for one of your mother's recipes, seeing as your roommate wasn't specific with what he wanted. truly, he didn't care. he just wanted to eat, with the appetizer being an excuse to fuck around with you. the specific recipe you were using had been passed around from one generation, all the way to your mother. the stew itself was something anyone could make, but nobody could make it the way your did. in fact, it was so special, the only people she ever shared it with were you and your father.

“it smells good,” yoongi murmured, his eyes glued to your frame as you carefully removed the pot off the stove, turning the heat off. you smiled to yourself as you retrieved a bowl from the csbinet above, “thanks.” never had you tried the recipe out for yourself, it was your first time and you were determined to make it work.

he waited patiently as you scooped the stew out, dumping it into the bowl. he watched your every move, from the way you pushed the loose strands of your hair away from your forehead, to how you carried the bowl with grace he swore was there. the stew was served with a bowl of rice for him, and a side of radishes. you heaved a sigh as you sat next to him, hands sore. everything was there, picture perfect for him, but he kept his focus on you.

“well,” you urged. “go on, then.” only then did his gaze drop. he stared at the red liquid, allowing the spicy scent to grace his nostrils. it was comforting, and all too familiar to him. the scent itself sent a sharp jab to his chest, he was too familiar with it.

his suspicions didn't ease as he scooped a spoonful of the stew, he had reached a new level of excitement. you analyzed him carefully, hoping for a promising reaction. it was exactly what you were going to get. “holy shit,” he uttered out, his mouth full. his instincts hadn't failed him, the scent was familiar and the taste only confirmed what he had been thinking. “is this your recipe?” for a second, you hesitated, but shook your head. “no,” you assured softly. “it was my mother's, why? is it any good?”

the answer itself was all too obvious as he continued to fill his mouth with the product, swallowing within seconds just to help himself some more. it was as if he hadn't eaten in years. “it's amazing,” he praised, and your face lit up. you couldn't help but smile as he neared the end of the bowl. “it tastes exactly the one my step-dad used to make.” you were skeptical, as there was no way that was possible, but took the compliment.

“generational recipe,” you explained, a twinge of grief to your voice. “it was all we ate when winter came along.” the memories weren't as pleasant as the taste itself; you found yourself recalling the days there truly wasn't anything else to eat, but you never complained. you never got tired of the taste.

yoongi seemed to notice the way your tone shifted, even while draining what was left of the meal. “i get it,” was what he found himself saying. at first, you thought it was just empty comforting. “the cold took a toll on us, too. fucking hate the winter.” out of all people, you never imagined opening up to min yoongi, let alone him opening up to you. let alone him understanding you. for a second, there was nothing but silence, and the way you found yourself staring at him. you had been looking at him with the same eyes since you've met him, but this time was different. this time, you looked at each other in a way you never have before.

in a split second, the moment had passed. your phone had started to ring again, and you found yourself cursing whoever it was. taehyung, probably. you swore you'd kill him if it was him pestering you again, but it wasn't. your screen flashed, reading “no caller id” in white, bold letters. yoongi shot you a concerning glance going unnoticed as you excused yourself, leaving the room.

once you were a room away from yoongi, you answered the call with a simple, “hello?” you didn't know exactly what you were expecting to hear, nor who. maybe someone had the wrong number, or it was a spam caller. you had your list of possibilities and expectations, all but one. “(y/n)? is it you?” the voice on the other line was deep, scratchy, rough. above all else, it was familiar. the second you heard it, your blood ran cold and your heart grew weak. it had never crossed your mind, so you refused to believe it was happening. “yes,” you responded weakly, weary of your roommate in the other room. “who is this?”

in the back of your mind, you knew exactly who it was. you could see his face, and you could hear his voice. you had done your best, for years on end, to block it from your memory, but to no avail. “(y/n), you know exactly who this is,” he said, voice all but steady. your fingers quivered, breathing heavy as you did your best to keep it together. “please, sweetheart. i'm back at the house, where's your mother? where are you? come over, we have to talk.” and for a split second, the room was silent. you couldn't muster up the words you so badly needed to say, not while you blood was hot, not while your head was heavy. the shock had finally turned to anger, and you couldn't deal with it.

“you asshole,” you finally breathed out, your eyes stinging with tears that threatened to spill. “you have some fucking nerve, you asshole.” it was all that was going through your head—asshole, asshole, asshole. how could he possibly have the courage, after so long?

from the other line, your father heaved a sigh, as if symapthetic. almost as if he was ashamed. “honey, i know i'm the last person you wanna hear from right now—” you had reached your limit, patience growing thin. you knew being rational wasn't an option, not with your knees threatening to give out from under you. “she's dead, you son of a bitch,” your voice was barely above a whisper. finally, he went quiet. it was your turn to talk. “she's dead and it's all your fault, dead. she's dead, you left her, and she's dead.”

so badly did you want to keep it together, but it was no use. your whispering had gone an octave up, hands furiously quivering as the tears came running down your face. your lips were swollen, hair plastered to your forehead with sweat as you failed against the sobs that were escaping from your throat. “i'm sorry,” were the words that finished you off. with a sob, you finally hung up. you should've done it the second you heard his voice, but it was too late. his words echoed in your head, even as you tossed your phone onto the floor, ignoring the sound of fatal cracks. you couldn't keep it together, you couldn't hold it in.

he had watched the whole scene unfold, much to your dismay. you realized it the second you held your head up. tears spilled from your eyes, and you were finally falling apart. yoongi stood there, just feet away. he stared, his eyes wide with shock as he watched you. something had awoken in him as he watched the way you held your face in your hands, sobs rocking your body. he watched you, but not for long. not wall you were so close to collapsing.

your legs were about to give out, but they never did. you were falling, but never did you hit the ground. he was right there, right beside you, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in so that you wouldn't fall. never in your life had you felt more grateful, more safe. you held onto the fabric of his shirt, and he didn't dare let go of you. you were fragile. in that moment, you were on the verge of breaking, and he wasn't going to let it happen. so, he pulled you close. his arms were wrapped around your frame, hand on the back of your head as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck.

he could feel the way you shook under his touch, and it broke his heart. his heart hurt for you. gentle strokes were delivered to your hair as he hushed you, and all you could do was cry. he didn't stop, not until your sobs died down. “was that your dad?” was what he finally asked, careful with his words as to not worsen the situation. all you could do was nod, and it was enough for him to keep quiet. all he could do was hold you, and that was exactly what he did. it was the comfort you had been longing for.

when you had finally calmed down, when the embrace had broken, you didn't know what to think. you cursed yourself for succumbing to your emotions as quickly as you did, you cursed yourself for breaking down. it made you wonder, what was it that made you feel so safe with him? what was it that made your heart flutter, that put your mind at ease? you were no fool, all you needed to do was remember what was engraved in your mind—cold as ice, hard as stone. never choose men over being alone. it was what had kept you afloat for so long, but it wasn't what was in your heart. it wasn't what made you feel safe, not the way you did with him.

he found himself cursing the way he found himself acting with you. it was unlike him, it was out of character for him. why, all of a sudden? why was he coming to your rescue, eating your meals? why was the urge to protect you stronger than the urge to protect his pride? it was all he thought about, why was it different with you? he didn't like different, different meant unfamiliar. he didn't like how vulnerable he was with you, how safe he felt with you. he never played safe, why start? why risk it all? he needed a distraction, and he was determined to find it.

thankfully, he knew just where to look. that night, you had gone to sleep earlier than usual, with only one thing on your mind. what had happened that day replayed in your head, but only the part you wanted to think about. him. you fell asleep thinking about him, dreading how quiet it was without his presence. he wasn't far, just two dorms over.

“hey,” he greeted almost the second the door opened, as if he was in a rush. he allowed himself to come in, despite the several yelps of disapproval. “got too much on my mind, needed to see you.” he didn't need to do anything, all he wanted was to be distracted. so, he did it the only way he knew how.

the girl scoffed, but closed the door behind him. “you should've called. what? you missed me?” the question sent a chill down his spine. no, no, no. it's what he so badly wanted to say. he didn't miss her, he didn't want her. he didn't need her the way he needed you, but he didn't want to need you. he didn't want to need anybody. to him, everybody was unreliable. everybody was waiting to ruin him. he knew he was making a mistake, but he was ready. above all else, he was ready.

“take your clothes off,” he uttered out. “and you'll see how much i missed you.”

the following morning, you had gotten up earlier than you wanted to. the basket of dirty clothes had filled up again, and someone had to take care of it. when you opened your eyes, yoongi was nowhere to be found. it made you get up faster than usual, panic coursing through your veins as you searched for him. he wasn't there. while you were in your feet, headed towards the basket, he still wasn't there. you tried to calm yourself down, assuring yourself he'd walk through the door soon enough. this time, you were right.

as you picked the basket up, you heard the doorknob jiggle. he had finally come home, just before seven in the morning. he seemed tired, as if he had got done running a marathon. the tiresome expression switched to a look of shock the second he saw you. for a moment, all you did was look at each other. “where've you been?” you finally broke the silence. the question should have been expected, but he didn't know how to answer. how could he, after everything? he gulped, thinking of what to say. so, he did what he did best. he lied.

“drinking with dongwon,” the lie came out smoother than intended, smooth enough for your worries to falter. you only nodded in response. he felt awful for lying, why do it in the first place? you had seen him in much more promiscuous situations with a variety of women, what was the issue now? he knew he couldn't, not after yesterday—after everything. his eyes shifted to the basket in your hands. “taking the clothes down to the washer?” again, all you could do was nod. you had nothing to say, you were just glad he was alright. “would you take this, too?” you watched him gesture to the shirt he had on, and complied.

all you could do was stand there as he peeled his collared shirt off, it was best not to look, but oh so difficult. desperate to ditch the embarrassment, you placed the shirt into the basket, and brushed past him.

the minute you left the room, once again did he curse himself. once time, for what he did. “fuck,” was all he could say.

the washing machine belonged to the campus, and students were free to use it as much as they needed to. people had grown more aware of how challenging it was for students to make it on their own while studying, so they did their best to help. you wanted to make a quick trip, shoving the clothes into the machine as fast as you could, but something caught your eye. all of the clothes in the bin had been worn over and over again, all but yoongi's shirt. he had a different outfit on the previous day, but came back wearing a new shirt. you had presumed it was stained with alcohol, but decided to check, just in case.

maybe things had gotten out of hand while he was drinking, but you didn't remember seeing any stains. the shirt itself was clean, from what you could tell. white stained easily. it wasn't until your hands pulled the collar upwards, did you see what the problem really was. at first, you ignored the pungent smell. the shirt reeked of cheap, fruity perfume that lit your nostrils up, and it made your stomach churn. maybe dongwon had a few girls over to drink with them, it was what you hoped for. why did it matter? it had nothing to do with you. it would've been the best case, but it wasn't. you realized it wasn't the moment you lifted the collar.

the rim of the collar was stained with lipstick. bright pink lipstick. the sight of it made your heart fall, you practically felt it in your stomach. “asshole,” you breathed out, fingers clutching the fabric. you didn't know why it made you so upset, you didn't know why the sight of it made you so angry. why was he lying about it? it wasn't the first time, and you believed it wouldn't be the last. it was all you could think about, and it hurt more than you wanted it to.

you had spent the following weeks ignoring yoongi as best as you could. unfortunately, living with him didn't make it easier for you. you did your best, unable to shake the feeling of betrayal. weeks passed, and you still didn't know why it hurt you as much as it did. you couldn't bare talking to him, afraid of lashing out. losing your temper, everything you had strived for so long.

he had noticed a shift in the atmosphere from that point on, brushing it off at first. maybe you were just having a bad day, is what he had been telling himself the first few days. those days quickly turned into weeks, and nothing was the same. his comments were ignored, even his provocations and jokes. his questions were answered abruptly and coldly. he dismissed the idea of you figuring out what he had done, as he believed there was no way for you to find out, but nothing explained the way you were acting. not even the smoking and closed windows bothered you anymore.

you spent as much time with taehyung as you possibly could. if you had classes, you'd attend them alone and in silence. all your free time was spent with taehyung, not that he minded. he was the only person you told what happened, from start to finish. you told him everything, even the bits he already knew, like what happened at the party.

“you like him, don't you?” he asked the question you had been so scared of facing, let alone answering. you tried to play it off as a joke, laughing it off, but never answering. he watched you carefully, a frown on his face. he didn't need an answer, he knew it just as well as you did. you liked him. he didn't know where to go from there, all he could do was watch you, and every move of yours gave him his answer. you couldn't keep the eye contact, your fingers toyed with your hair as you stayed quiet. he knew you liked him.

that night, he thought about it. he thought about it so much, he found himself standing outside with yoongi, in the cold air. he thought about it so much, he found himself with one of yoongi's cigarettes between his lips. there was something off about him, yoongi saw it. taehyung, who was once one of his closest friends, had grown cold, hostile. taehyung didn't pay mind to how his behavior had grown strange, he only had one thing on his mind.

“she knows,” were the words that broke the silence. yoongi froze, cigarette burning between his lips. he stayed silent, couldn't say a thing. “she knows you fucked that girl.” yoongi scoffed, but he couldn't ignore how fast his heart was pounding. the increasing anxiety wasn't detectable, he did his best to ignore it. “don't know what you're talking about.”

now, it was taehyung's turn to scoff. he didn't make eye contact with his friend, taking a drag of his cigarette as he stared into the night sky. “you're a pussy,” his words finally got the attention he was looking for. “she's this great girl, y'know? she's this beautiful, smart girl and she likes you. and i wish i knew why. but, hey, what do you know? you like her, you like this great girl, but you're too big of a pussy to do anything about it.”

“you don't know shit,” yoongi practically spat at him, too defensive for his own good. he faced his friend, but taehyung remained stoic. in his heart, yoongi knew every bit of it was true. he only returned the stance as he neared the end of his cigarette, throwing it onto the ground beneath him and stepping over it. “you're right, i don't know shit,” taehyung spat back. “you like each other, but don't do shit about it. fuck around with her some more, 'till she realizes she can do better than you.” those were the last words taehyung said to him, before walking away. it took everything in him to not punch yoongi in the face, because he so desperately needed to. he wanted him to realize what was in front of him, he wanted him to realize how lucky he was.

once again, yoongi was left alone. in his heart, he knew every word of it was true, but he couldn't bring himself to come to terms with it. it was something he needed to do, but he didn't want to. he wanted to live in his bubble, with his heart closed off to anyone but him. he needed to be selfish, because it was all he knew, but as the night grew colder and harsher, he knew it wasn't what he wanted to do.

you found yourself in your bed once more, but you couldn't fall asleep. your mind wouldn't shut off, and it pissed you off. you and yoongi had gone another day without speaking, and the silence killed you. he wasn't there, and all you could think about was where he was. you let out a dry laugh, thinking history would be funny enough to repeat itself—maybe he really was out there, wetting his dick again.

that possibility lost some of its credibility when the doorknob began to budge again. like clockwork, you found yourself watching him come in. this time, he was home early, it wasn't even midnight. for a second, you locked eyes. it was quiet, you didn't dare say a word, but you couldn't not look at him. he looked at you, admiring how pretty you were, even at your worst. even with your hair messy, lips swollen, eyes beaming with exhaustion—there was no way you couldn't look good. something in that moment had clicked, and the silence was broken.

“i fucked her,” definitely wasn't the best choice of words, but he needed something to clear the air with. still, you remained quiet, only raising your eyebrows in response. you knew, he knew you knew. “i fucked her and it was a shitty thing to do. i knew it then, and i know it now.”

you stayed quiet, the empathy currently drained from your heart. how could you feel for him? “i fucked her because i needed a way to distract myself,” he paused. “from you. i'm feeling shit i've never felt, and i'm scared of feeling it. when i'm scared, i run. it's all i've ever been doing.”

he stood there, voice steady despite how honest he was trying to be. for a second, you almost understood him. you knew what it was like, running from the same feeling your entire life. it was exactly what you were taught, but never could you have done to anybody what he had done to you. “i really hope she was worth it,” you whispered, just about loud enough for him to hear. she wasn't, he knew she wasn't. she had cost him everything, and he knew there was no coming back from it.

not much had changed as the weeks flew by. nothing but the weather. the colder the weather had gotten, the more hostile you found yourself acting. not just with yoongi, but in general. even with taehyung, you found yourself snapping just to apologize seconds later. he understood, he was patient with you. once it had started to snow, you spent more time inside than outside. seeing the fluffy, white flakes coat the ground was enough for you to get a frostbite. you spent the inside of the campus has truly become a sanctuary, until you and yoongi had started to cross paths once more.

it was only because he had been staying inside just as much. the minute he had woken up to the sight of white, it was official. he didn't even bother looking at the windows, let alone taking a step outside. he only smoked indoors, kept his friends close indoors.

your anger had finally faltered as the time passed, but you and yoongi never really spoke. you had both hoped that whatever it was you were feeling would finally fade, that it was a temporary occurence. you both prayed that one day you'd wake up, and feel nothing for the other. that day never came.

though you had finally made peace with the situation and gained your composure, the weather had lost its. everything up until then had been child's play, with the outside world freezing, but the inside providing comfort. nobody had really expected the drastic change, so nobody was prepared. when the night in question rolled around, it was brutal.

a snowstorm was in the process of unfolding. those who were able to deal with it, dealed by hiding under the covers. the wind rocked the windows, it was brutal. no matter the force, nobody was able to shut them. all the wind did was fight back. the wind howled as flakes of white scattered the dorms, the cold air practically violent. it was the reason you had found yourself on the couch, away from the windows. you were doing your best to ignore it, to block the familiar sounds from your mind. the noises were messing with your head, and the brutal cold brought memories you had no interest in re-living.

your breathing escalated, and all you could do was fight back the tears, reassuring yourself under your breath. you shut yours eyes tight, hoping everything would go quiet. just for a second. it never did. at one point, the howling had started to die down, but the air only grew colder. a new sound had graced your ears, but it wasn't the wind. it wasn't the wind howling. from the corner of your eye, you could spot the source.

yoongi had problems of his own, having taken the spot right next to the window. the covers on the bed offered no comfort, not while everything was unfolding right next to him. the cold was bitter, so unfamiliarly cruel as he rocked himself under the sheets. it was the most unstable he had ever felt, as he bit back his cries, wary of you just feet away from him. he muffled his sobs, but it wasn't enough to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. he hated it, it was killing him.

you listened carefully, unsure of what you were listening to. ever the curious one, you pushed yourself onto your feet, with the blanket engulfing you. he was facing the opposite side, and you were absolutely sure the sounds were coming from him, the closer you grew to him. as you got closer, you could make out the sounds better. you were right, it wasn't the wind howling. you could recognize the crying all too well.

“yoongi,” it was the first time you had spoken to him in a long time. your voice rang like a melody, offering him the slightest comfort amidst everything else. slowly, he found himself turning towards you. as he did, you saw everything much clearer, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were swollen, lips puffy, his cheeks slick with tears. “yoongi, are you okay?”

he shook his head, and you couldn't hide the panic in your voice. despite everything, you knew you cared. you cared, he cared. hearing you was almost enough to block everything else out. it was enough for him to ignore how vulnerable he truly was in that moment, and he knew he had reached peak vulnerability. “i fucking hate winter,” he croaked out. all you could do was nod, you nodded and it pained you because you hated it, too. you hated how it took everything from you. “took my dad from me, it was too cold.” you could barely make out what he was saying, but you couldn't believe what you were able to hear. it made your heart sink, and you knew what followed was inevitable.

“it's okay, i promise,” your heart was racing as you sat on the bed, right next to him. cold, he was so cold. despite the blankets, he was freezing. “took my mom from me, yoongi. i get it, i promise i get it.” tears in your eyes threatened to match his own as his expression flashed with shock. it wasn't something you expected to hear from anyone, let alone him. “so fucking cold,” he finally whispered, and you realized just how bad he had it. you realized just how alike you were, so you finally did something so unlike the either of you.

you were careful with your actions, even if they weren't thought through. with a sniffle, you pulled the covers up. not enough to expose him to the cold more than he already had been, but enough to make room. you made enough room and, to his astonishment, you crawled in. you moved into the spot next to him, and neither of you moved. it was unlike any warmth either of you had felt before, none of the covers in the world had anything on the warmth felt in that moment.

you stared at each other with sore, puffy eyes. he watched you with soft eyes, sniffles dying down the minute you were next to him. you were perfect. more perfect than you've ever been. he was hesitant, but he found himself pulling you in. you were just as hesitant, but you found yourself scooting closer to him. nothing mattered anymore. the air surrounding you was still cold, it still hurt, but it was like his body had grown a new mind of its own. his fingers traced the side of your face, pushing strands of your hair away from your eyes. he needed to see you, all of you, and he did. you had never been closer, and you couldn't get enough of it. he was like a furnace to you, even though you were the one warming him. from the inside out.

“i love you,” he finally whispered, and neither of you looked away. he knew he couldn't take back what he said, the same way he knew how much he meant it. the words were foreign, they were words you hadn't heard in a long time. finally, you smiled. “i love you, too.” the shock that spread through his body couldn't be mimicked. for the first time in a long while, he smiled. he smiled back, and it was a genuine smile. one that wasn't provoked by teasing and joking, nothing of the sort. he hadn't been loved in a long time.

the wind stayed consistent, but nothing mattered anymore. it was as if a barrier had formed around the two of you, one that unapologetically emitted the warmest, kindest comfort imaginable. yoongi found himself moving closer to you, if possible, and you knew what was coming. you knew, and you were prepared. you loved him, you hated the cold, and you could never be what you despised the most, so you let him.

with his hand ever so gently in your hair, you allowed yourself to come closer, until the distance finally faltered. his lips pressed against yours, something he had found himself dreaming about for too long. your lips melted, colliding so gently, he swore they were made for each other. he had kissed a countless amount of women, but never like that. every ounce of regret left your body, and all you could do was kiss back. it was what you wanted more than anything. you wanted him.

he stroked your arm gently, his thumb tracing circles on your skin, sending shivers of a different kind down your spine. you looked up at him, feeling your heart race a little faster as you thought about what you wanted to say. he was so warm, so solid and comforting, and you felt a sudden rush of love for him that was almost overwhelming. you took a deep breath and whispered, “i've never done this before.” his eyes searched yours, understanding and patience in their depths. he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “that's okay,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble. “we'll take it slow.”

the room was filled with a tension that was both nerve-wracking and exciting as you both realized the gravity of the moment. you felt a blush spread across your cheeks, but yoongi just held you tighter, his eyes filled with nothing but affection and reassurance.

he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he said, “but are you sure?” his question hung in the air, the only sound the soft rustle of the covers and the muffled sounds of the winter night outside. you nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. “i'm sure,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

yoongi pulled back, looking into your eyes, searching for any hint of doubt. finding none, he leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand moving from your arm to cup your cheek. the kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as you both became lost in the moment. the bed dipped slightly as he shifted his weight, moving to adjust himself beside you, his hand still cradling your face. his eyes searched yours, asking for permission, and you gave it with a shy nod.

he started to kiss your neck, his lips feather-light as they moved down to your collarbone. you felt his hand slowly make its way down your body, and your breath hitched in anticipation. the cold outside was forgotten as the heat between you grew, a warmth that seemed to drive away every other concern. his touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was learning every inch of you. you felt your body respond, your heart racing and your skin tingling where he touched. his fingers traced the line of your jaw, then moved to the hem of your shirt, his thumbs hooking under the fabric.

you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head, the cool air of the room making you shiver again. but as soon as the shirt was off, his warmth was back, his chest pressed against yours, his hands running up and down your back in soothing strokes, only to make another appearance, fondling your tits in a way so gentle, even he couldn't believe it. he listened to your soft moans, and it took everything in him to resist pounding you right then and there. the snow continued to fall outside, casting a serene, silent backdrop to the intimate scene unfolding in the warmth of the bedroom. the only sounds were the soft rustle of the covers and the steady beat of two hearts, in sync with each other.

his eyes never left yours as he reached for the button of your pants, his gaze filled with a mix of love and lust. you felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as he undid the button, then the zipper, his hands moving with purpose and care. he slid your pants down, revealing your bare legs to the cool air. you felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your stomach, making you gasp.

the anticipation was almost unbearable, your body trembling with a mix of cold and desire. yoongi took his time, his kisses like a warm embrace against the winter's chill. he reached your navel, and your hips instinctively arched towards him. his eyes never left yours, as if asking for confirmation at every step.

he gently pushed your legs apart, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made you feel cherished. his hand trailed down your inner thigh, and your skin burned with every touch. when his fingers finally reached the place where no one else had been before, you tensed, but his soft, reassuring whispers kept you relaxed. with a feather-light touch, he began to explore, his movements slow and deliberate. each caress against your soaking pussy sent waves of pleasure through you, and your eyes fluttered shut as you moaned softly. the cold air was forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his body and the gentle pressure of his hand.

“fuck, princess, so wet for me,” he murmured, his dick painfully hard, practically begging for you.

as he touched you, he watched your reactions closely, learning what made you gasp, what made you shiver with pleasure. his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. but all he saw was a deep, unspoken trust that made his heart swell with love. you felt your body responding to his touch, and you reached for him, your hands shaking slightly as you pulled his shirt over his head. his skin was hot against your palms, and you traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

the snowfall outside grew heavier, the world outside muffled and distant. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his skin under your hands, and the love that was growing stronger with every shared moment.

as he pulled his boxers down, you realized just how unprepared you really were. he could stretch you out as much as he wanted, it still couldn't prepare you for what caught your eye. he was big, and he knew it. he was big and throbbing against the flesh of his abdomen, and a you could do was stare. “it's not gonna fit,” you whispered. despite his laugh, your words only made him harder. the thought of you, so small and fragile under him, breaking because of his cock—it made him desperate for you. yoongi leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “you'll take it, yeah?” you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. he kissed you again, deep and slow, as if trying to imprint every sensation on your soul. you felt him shift, the bed protesting slightly under his weight as he positioned himself above you. he reached for the condom on the nightstand, his movements sure and practiced. but his eyes never left yours, filled with a tenderness that was almost painful in its intensity.

you felt his hard, pulsing cock against your entrance and it was enough to make you gasp. he let out a sigh, the sight of you so vulnerable for him enough to make him cum on the spot. as he entered you, the world outside disappeared, replaced by the feeling of him filling your pussy up, the sound of your mingled breaths the only music in the room. it was a moment of pain, quickly overshadowed by a deeper, more profound sensation of belonging. you held onto him tightly, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, his rhythm gentle and steady. each stroke was a promise of forever, a declaration of love in the most primal and intimate way possible.

“so fucking tight, holy shit,” he groaned, eyes flashing between the way your pussy sucked him up, so pretty and greedy, and the way your face scrunched up in pleasure, pure pleasure. you and yoongi moved together, each stroke bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. your breaths grew ragged, your hearts pounding in unison as you climbed higher and higher. and when you finally fell over the edge, you came all over him. “just like that, all over my dick.”

you were overwhelmed, the foreign feeling gracing you with an irreplaceable euphoria you've so badly been craving. he leaned forward, capturing your lips in yet another messy kiss, his hands erratic. they moved as fast as they could, savoring the way your tits felt in them, the way your fleshy thighs spilled out of them. as he pounded into you, a you could do was moan into his mouth. “so good, fuck, yoongi,” the sound of his name leaving your mouth in such a dirty position was enough to send him over the edge.

he was desperate, his hips slamming into your pelvis as his dick brushed your sweet spot. your walls squeezed him, practically milking him for all he had to offer. his groans grew louder as he neared his high, his thrusts sending your eyes into the back of your head as he savored you. you were all his. “gonna cum, fuck,” he moaned, and he was right. he came with a groan, lost in the way you moaned for him, foreheads pressed against each other. he came into the condom, his dick throbbing into your cunt as he did so. it was good, so good.

when he finally pulled out, you did nothing but stare into each other's eyes. you knew that you had just shared something incredibly special, something that would change everything. but as you looked into his eyes, you also knew that no matter what was to come, you would face it together, wrapped in the warmth of your love, and it was stronger than any storm.

“i love you,” this time, it was your turn to say it. for a second, the fear of him leaving, discarding you like you meant nothing to him, like you were just another girl, became present. you weren't just another girl, you never were. “i love you, too.” it was enough, more than enough. how could you ever be just another girl? he alone wasn't strong enough against the cold, not without you.

✧.*

a/n: i hope this does well because this cliché took so long to write lol!! if it does, i'll do a follow-up, as there's a lot of unfinished business haha. only if it's what the readers want. thank you for reading!!!

frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

el dorado (엘도라도) — min yoongi (민윤기)

✧.* 18+

the sun had barely risen, casting its first golden rays upon daegu as you stood on the balcony of your lavish penthouse, overlooking the city. the view was both magnificent and disheartening. from the north, the cityscape gleamed with the brilliance of affluence. skyscrapers glittered like diamonds, their glass facades reflecting the morning light. luxury cars, sleek and polished, glided silently along the pristine roads, while high-end boutiques and gourmet cafés beckoned from below.

yet, beyond the northern skyline, the stark contrast of south daegu lay sprawled in muted colors. there, the city’s essence was raw and unrefined. the buildings were worn and aged, their facades bearing the marks of countless years. streets teemed with vendors selling their modest goods, and the air carried the hum of industrious activity mixed with a tinge of despair. the people moved with a sense of quiet resignation, their eyes reflecting a daily struggle for survival.

in the comfort of your penthouse, surrounded by opulent decor and the finest amenities, the divide between north and south daegu felt as though it was etched into the very fabric of the city. it was not merely a physical separation but an emotional and social chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. you sipped your coffee, the rich aroma filling the air, and contemplated the weight of your father’s legacy and the monumental task ahead.

the less fortunate lived on the other side of this divide. min yoongi's world was a reflection of the south—a realm defined by resilience and resourcefulness amidst hardship. it was in these gritty streets that he had forged his path. his life, a stark juxtaposition to yours, was marked by constant striving for a break from the shackles of poverty. his family’s modest home, with its peeling paint and cramped quarters, bore witness to years of struggle. yet, amidst the scarcity, there was a certain warmth, a community spirit that thrived even in the face of adversity.

el dorado—the very name conjured images of opulence and mystery, a shimmering city of gold nestled somewhere beyond the known maps of the world. in the realm of myth and legend, el dorado was not merely a place but a symbol of ultimate wealth and grandeur. it represented the unattainable dream of countless adventurers, a beacon of hope and avarice that has captivated imaginations across centuries and continents.

visions of el dorado were as varied as they were vivid. imagine a city where the streets were paved with gold and the walls of grand palaces were adorned with intricate mosaics of precious metals. rivers of liquid gold flowed through lush, verdant landscapes, and the very air sparkled with the dust of untold riches. in that imagined paradise, luxury was not an aspiration but a reality woven into the fabric of daily life. the legend assured that only the worthy could come across the city of gold, and you were sure it was your destiny.

the rain fell steadily, its rhythmic patter blending with the mournful strains of a distant funeral dirge. the sky, a dismal gray, wept alongside the mourners who had gathered to pay their respects. the gravesite, a somber and serene expanse, was blanketed by a fine mist, rendering the scene both melancholic and ethereal.

you stood alone beside your father’s freshly turned grave, the elaborate marble headstone gleaming under the droplets of rain. the memorial photograph of your father, framed in an ornate silver plaque, looked back at you with a serene yet distant gaze. his eyes, forever captured in a moment of composure and strength, seemed to echo the weight of the legacy he had left behind.

tears traced paths down your cheeks, mingling with the raindrops as you stared at the photograph. the sight of his image brought a piercing ache to your heart, an overwhelming flood of grief that threatened to consume you. the grandeur of his achievements, the opulence of his life, and the unfulfilled promise of his dreams all seemed to converge upon this solitary moment.

in the midst of your sorrow, you sensed a presence—a subtle shift in the atmosphere. turning slightly, you caught sight of min yoongi standing nearby. he was positioned just a few feet away, his figure slightly obscured by the veil of rain. unlike you, who was consumed by the weight of personal loss and duty, yoongi’s attention was fixed intently on the grave.

he was soaked through, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes clinging to him in a manner that mirrored your own state of disarray. yet, his focus was unwavering, a silent vigil in the midst of your personal anguish. his posture was rigid, his gaze unblinking as he regarded the headstone, the significance of the scene seemingly etched deeply into his expression. you could not quite discern the thoughts behind his solemn demeanor. his presence, though unexpected, seemed to be an unspoken tribute to your father, perhaps a testament to the respect he had for the man who had employed him. there was no hint of intrusion or disrespect; instead, there was a quiet solidarity in his silence. you couldn't place the look on his face. then again, you didn't know him all that well, having had only one encounter. you removed your gaze from him, your thoughts drifting back to a memory that seemed both distant and vivid.

it was a hazy afternoon, the sun casting dappled shadows on the gentle waves as you slept on the deck of your family's yacht. the tranquility of the boat had lulled you into a peaceful slumber, the soft rocking of the vessel a gentle cradle. the serenity of the moment was abruptly disrupted by a muffled sound, a soft rustling that stirred you from your nap. blinking groggily, you opened your eyes to find the boat's interior bathed in a soft, golden hue from the afternoon light. it was then that you noticed a figure moving stealthily near the scuba gear locker. you immediately recognized him.

he was hunched over, his movements deliberate but not quite smooth, as if he were trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. your curiosity piqued, you sat up, the slight creak of the boat’s deck betraying your awakening. as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, yoongi glanced up and froze, his expression one of startled surprise.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and mild amusement. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, yoongi seemed at a loss for words. he fumbled with the equipment, a sheen of nervous sweat glistening on his forehead. “i’m just topping off the tanks,” he stammered, his voice wavering. his eyes darted to the empty, wet scuba gear spread across the deck, and a flash of panic crossed his features.

you raised an eyebrow, noting the strange sight of the wet, empty gear. “topping off the tanks?” you repeated, your tone laced with skepticism. “why is everything soaked and empty then?” his panic was palpable now, his usually composed demeanor shattered by your direct questioning. “please, don’t tell your father,” he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. there was an earnest desperation in his eyes that was hard to ignore.

you studied him for a moment, the gravity of the situation mingling with a growing sense of mischief. “caught his employee red-handed,” you said with a teasing smile. the amusement in your voice was barely concealed, and you watched as yoongi’s face turned an even deeper shade of worry. his eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step toward you, his hands wringing together nervously. “i’m really sorry,” he said, his voice strained. “i didn’t mean to—”

seeing the sheer anxiety in his eyes, you decided to ease the tension. “relax,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “i won’t say a word. consider it a secret between us.” a look of immense relief washed over his face, and he let out a soft sigh of gratitude. “thank you,” he said earnestly, his gaze meeting yours with genuine appreciation. “i promise it won’t happen again.”

in that fleeting moment, the air between you shifted. the playful teasing had given way to a quiet, unspoken bond—a shared understanding that transcended the usual dynamics of employer and employee. yoongi’s smile, though nervous, was heartfelt, and it lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to his task, working diligently to restore the equipment to its proper place.

the penthouse, usually a haven of opulence and comfort, felt uncharacteristically hollow as you walked through its vast, echoing spaces. the grandeur of the high ceilings and the sweeping views of the city did little to ease the emptiness that weighed heavily upon you. your father’s presence, once a commanding and reassuring force, was now conspicuously absent, leaving behind a palpable silence.

you wandered aimlessly, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpets that stretched beneath you. each room you entered seemed to whisper reminders of him—the elegant furnishings, the carefully curated artworks, the personal touches that spoke of his life and personality. yet, despite the luxury and the meticulous design, the place felt colder, more distant, without him.

as you moved through the penthouse, you found yourself drawn to his study—a room that had always been shrouded in an aura of secrecy and reverence. it was a place you had rarely entered during his lifetime, a domain reserved for his most private thoughts and intricate dealings. you hesitated before the door, a feeling of intrusion gnawing at you. but curiosity, combined with the pressing need to understand the extent of his plans, urged you forward.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door, and the scene before you struck you with a jolt. the study was in disarray, a stark contrast to the usually immaculate order that characterized your father's workspaces. the once pristine desk was now cluttered with scattered papers, some strewn haphazardly across the floor. the large window on one side of the room had been shattered, the jagged edges glistening ominously. rain had begun to seep in through the broken glass, pooling on the hardwood floor and mingling with the debris.

you stepped further inside, your heart pounding with a mix of apprehension and determination. the chaos was overwhelming, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that had consumed your father in his final days. you moved cautiously, your eyes scanning the room for any clue that might shed light on his final projects.

approaching the desk, you began sifting through the papers. most were invoices, financial reports, and documents related to his various investments. yet, amidst the mundane clutter, one document caught your eye. it was partially crumpled and stained, its edges rough and disheveled. bold, black letters emblazoned across the top read, “el dorado.”

your pulse quickened as you carefully unfolded the paper. the document revealed an intricately detailed map, its aged surface marked with symbols and annotations that hinted at a journey. the map depicted a labyrinth of rivers, mountains, and dense forests, converging on a central location that was highlighted in a golden hue—a conspicuous nod to the legendary city of gold. as you studied it, the countless stories your father had told you about el dorado surged back into your memory. you had always dismissed them as fanciful tales, embellishments of adventure and myth. the allure of the lost city seemed trivial compared to the realities of his empire.

but now, seeing the map and the evident planning that had gone into it, the fascination with el dorado took on a new, unsettling significance. it was not merely a whimsical obsession; it was a meticulously orchestrated pursuit, a strategic endeavor to uncover something of immense value. the realization dawned on you that your father’s fascination was, in fact, a grand plan—a plan that had been in motion for years, driven by a desire to find the lost city and secure its treasures.

the weight of this discovery pressed heavily upon you. the idea that your father had been so consumed by this quest, to the point of neglecting other aspects of his life, was both astonishing and disconcerting. yet, it also clarified your path forward. the map was more than just a relic of his dreams; it was a tangible link to his legacy, a call to action.

yoongi sat on the edge of the docks, the cool evening air ruffling his hair as he took a slow drag from his joint. the sky was a muted canvas of twilight hues, the fading light casting long shadows over the wooden planks beneath him. beside him, his friend leaned back against a crate, his own joint smoldering between his fingers. the gentle lapping of the water against the pilings below created a rhythmic, soothing backdrop to their conversation.

hoseok broke the silence, his voice tinged with curiosity. “so, now that your employer’s gone—how do you feel about it?” yoongi exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression guarded. he scoffed lightly, not entirely surprised by the question. “don’t joke about it,” he said, his tone more serious than hoseok’s casual demeanor suggested. “the man was alright for a chaebol.”

hoseok chuckled, his eyes narrowing with a hint of cynicism. “they’re all the same, are they not? it makes no difference whether they’re alive or dead. they’ve got their own world, and it’s nothing like ours.” yoongi’s gaze shifted to the water, his attention wavering as he became lost in thought. hoseok, noticing his friend's distracted demeanor, raised an eyebrow. “what’s on your mind, yoongi? you seem a bit off.”

yoongi took another drag from his joint, the embers glowing softly in the gathering darkness. he let the smoke curl around him, his eyes distant. “gold,” he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. hoseok laughed, a hearty sound that seemed to echo off the water. “isn’t that what we’re all thinking about? gold’s always on our minds.”

yoongi shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, enigmatic smile. “gold, the city of gold.” hoseok’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of puzzled interest. “the city of gold? you mean that old myth?”

yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he met his gaze. “it’s not just a myth. i overheard him talking about it before he passed. he was obsessed with it, claimed he was close to finding it.” hoseok’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “you’re not serious, are you? that’s just another tall tale.”

yoongi’s expression was resolute. “no, i’m serious. there’s something to it. i’m going to be the one to find it.” hoseok’s skepticism remained evident, but curiosity was clearly piqued. “and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

a smirk played on yoongi’s lips as he took a final puff from his joint, the smoke drifting lazily into the twilight. “the way to a father’s heart,” he said, his tone almost conspiratorial, “is through his daughter.” as the sun dipped below the horizon, the night deepened around them, casting the docks in shadows. the promise of adventure and discovery hung in the air, mingling with the scent of the sea and the lingering smoke. yoongi’s resolve was palpable, his plans set into motion by a mix of ambition and strategic maneuvering. the city of gold was no longer a distant dream, but a tangible goal.

you lay on the couch in your father’s study, the room dimly lit by the desk lamp that cast a soft, golden glow across the walls. the study, once a place of bustling activity and intense focus, now felt oddly still and desolate. the silence seemed to amplify your thoughts, turning them into an echoing din that made it impossible for you to drift into sleep.

staring up at the ceiling, you found yourself lost in the labyrinth of your mind, the weight of your father’s death and the revelation of his secret quest pressing heavily on your shoulders. the map of el dorado, now carefully hidden away, was a constant reminder of the journey that lay ahead—a journey you felt compelled to undertake in his memory.

just as the darkness of the room began to weigh on your eyelids, a sudden crash shattered the stillness. your heart leapt into your throat, and adrenaline surged through you, jolting you into action. you threw off the blanket and forced yourself out of the couch, your footsteps quick and quiet as you approached the source of the noise. the study door creaked as you pushed it open, and you peered into the hallway. the light from the study illuminated only part of the corridor, leaving the rest shrouded in shadow. the crash had come from further down the hall, and you moved cautiously, every sound magnified in your heightened state of alert.

as you rounded the corner, you saw a figure bending over a cluttered pile of papers. without a second thought, you sprang forward and tackled the intruder to the ground, your instincts driving you to protect your father's possessions. the person let out a startled yelp, and in a swift, unexpected move, they flipped you onto your back.

you found yourself staring up at a familiar face, eyes wide with equal parts surprise and disbelief. it was yoongi, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. he was sprawled on top of you, his body tense, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“this is the second time you're breaking in,” you murmured, struggling to regain your footing as you pushed against his chest. he blinked, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find an explanation that would make sense. he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the scattered papers on the floor. “i’m looking for clues,” he finally admitted, his voice a blend of awkwardness and sincerity. “about the city of gold.”

you wriggled out from beneath him, sitting up as you processed his words. “the city of gold?” you echoed, the phrase taking on new significance. “you mean el dorado?” he nodded, his expression earnest. “yes, el dorado. are you familiar with it?”

you met his gaze, your mind racing as you considered the implications. “i am. i found a map in my father’s study. i plan on finding it to honor his memory.” there was a brief pause as the weight of your statement settled between you. yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing his next words. “i wanted to find it too,” he said slowly, his voice revealing an undertone of determination. you studied him, trying to discern his true motives. there was a hunger in his eyes, a drive that went beyond mere curiosity. yet, you were willing to overlook his hidden agenda if it meant achieving your own goal.

taking a deep breath, you considered what your father would have wanted. the thought of working with yoongi, despite the tension and underlying motives, seemed like a practical step forward. he had valuable knowledge and skills that could aid in the search, and his involvement could provide insights that you might otherwise miss. “i think,” you said finally, your voice steady, “that we should find it together.”

he looked taken aback by your suggestion, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. “are you serious?” you nodded firmly, your gaze unwavering. “yes, i am. if we work together, we might stand a better chance of finding it.”

he studied you for a moment longer, his expression a mix of skepticism and intrigue. slowly, a small, hesitant smile began to form on his lips. “alright,” he said, his tone softening. “let’s find it together.” the agreement, though tentative, marked the beginning of an unexpected partnership. as you both stood up and began to gather the scattered papers, the realization of the task ahead settled over you. the search for el dorado would be fraught with challenges, but with yoongi’s help, you felt a renewed sense of purpose.

yoongi’s gaze swept across the study, taking in the chaos that had taken over the room. the once meticulously organized space was now a disheveled mess, with papers strewn haphazardly across the floor and a window shattered, letting in a cold draft. he arched an eyebrow as he observed the scene, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“what happened here?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. you shrugged nonchalantly, brushing a stray piece of paper from the edge of the desk. “i assumed someone broke in. the place was like this when i arrived.”

his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the room, his gaze lingering on the scattered documents. his attention shifted as you approached the desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out a rolled-up piece of paper with a careful touch. the map was worn but unmistakable, its edges frayed from years of handling. as you spread the map out on the table, his eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “is that really it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

you smiled, nodding as you smoothed out the creases. “this is the map. the one my father was obsessed with. it’s supposed to lead to el dorado.” yoongi joined you at the table, leaning in to examine the map closely. his fingers traced the intricate lines and markings, his expression one of awe and admiration. “south america,” he murmured, glancing up at you with a look of impressed disbelief.

your satisfaction was evident as you watched him study the map. however, your attention was soon drawn to a piece of paper lying beneath it, partially obscured by the map’s bulk. the paper was covered in scribbles and notes, and yoongi’s eyes fell on it, scrutinizing the words written in a frantic scrawl. “tocord ele boosin,” he read aloud, his brows furrowing in confusion as he deciphered the jumbled letters.

you scanned the same paper, noting the erratic handwriting and the repeated name. “it seems like a display of a meltdown,” you said, your tone nonchalant. “my father must have been trying to piece something together, but it looks like he lost control.” yoongi shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the paper. “no, this address looks familiar. i’ve seen it before.”

you turned to him, intrigued by his sudden revelation. “really? where?” his gaze sharpened as he tried to recall the information. his eyes widened as he connected the dots, the seemingly random scramble of words taking shape in his mind.

“doctor lee soobin,” he said aloud, the name forming clearly on his lips. a jolt of recognition struck you, and your eyes widened in surprise. “how do you know that name?”

he shook his head, his expression a mix of skepticism and irritation. “doctor lee soobin is infamous in the south. he’s considered a madman by many, but he calls himself a scientist. his research is unconventional, and he’s been the subject of numerous rumors and gossip.” you considered his words, the implications settling heavily in your mind. “so you’re saying my father was involved with this doctor soobin?”

yoongi nodded, his gaze serious. “it’s possible. if this address is linked to him, then it could be a significant clue. he might know something about el dorado or at least be connected to the search in some way.” with the map and the mysterious paper in hand, you and yoongi began to organize the information, your minds focused on the path ahead. the study, once a place of solitude and grief, had transformed into a hub of discovery and anticipation.

as yoongi began to gather his things, preparing to leave the study, you hesitated. the urgency of the moment had given way to a more practical concern. you cleared your throat, trying to mask the unease you felt. “wait.” he paused, looking back at you with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “what’s up?”

“it’s late,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual. “it’s not safe for you to walk back to the south at this hour. you should stay the night.” his eyebrows lifted in surprise, his expression shifting from confusion to something akin to amusement. “are you serious? you’re offering me a place to stay?”

you nodded, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “yes. it would be safer. i don’t want you risking your safety just to chase after a lead.” his gaze softened, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets with a thoughtful smile. “seems like you just want an excuse to sleep with me,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you scoffed, a reflexive smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “as if,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. but as you caught sight of his playful grin, you hesitated. “or maybe you’re just looking for a chance to get out of walking back.” he chuckled, the sound a warm contrast to the chill in the air. “well, when you put it that way, who am I to argue?”

he seemed genuinely appreciative, and you could tell he was touched by the gesture. you took a deep breath, holding his gaze. “you can either thank me or leave. your choice.” yoongi’s grin widened, and he gave you a nod of gratitude. “thank you. i’ll stay the night.”

as you prepared the guest room for him, your thoughts were occupied by the unexpected turn of events. the night, once marked by sadness and solitude, now held the promise of collaboration and discovery. you couldn’t deny the strange comfort in having yoongi nearby, and the prospect of working together on this quest gave you a sense of purpose you hadn’t anticipated.

the first rays of dawn filtered through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and turned to see yoongi still sprawled across the guest room bed, his breathing slow and even. you scoffed quietly, a mix of amusement and exasperation tugging at your lips. as much as he claimed he didn’t need it, it seemed he did appreciate the comfort of a bed after all.

slipping out of bed, you padded softly down the hall to the kitchen. the house was still, the quiet punctuated only by the soft sounds of your movements. you set to work, the familiar ritual of brewing coffee providing a comforting rhythm. the rich aroma filled the air as you prepared two cups, your hands moving deftly as you thought about the day ahead.

you were just reaching for the ice cream when you felt a presence behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling before you heard the quiet, raspy voice. “do you really plan on having ice cream for breakfast?” yoongi’s voice held a note of bemusement, startling you slightly.

you turned, a small smile playing on your lips as you saw him leaning against the doorway, hair tousled and eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “it’s not ice cream for breakfast,” you corrected, holding up the carton. “it’s called an affogato.” he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a skeptical smile. “i’ve never heard of it.”

“then you’re in for a treat,” you replied, turning back to the counter. you scooped chocolate ice cream into two glasses and poured the hot espresso over them, watching as the ice cream began to melt and swirl with the coffee. he watched you, curiosity piqued as you handed him one of the glasses. he took it hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment before he lifted it to his lips. his eyes widened slightly as he took a sip, the unexpected blend of hot and cold, bitter and sweet, surprising him.

“do they really not sell these in the south?” you asked, taking a sip of your own affogato and savoring the way the flavors danced on your tongue. yoongi shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “no, the best we get is a black coffee. this is different. good different.”

“i’m glad you like it,” you said, warmth spreading through you at his approval. you both sipped in silence for a few moments, the quiet companionship settling comfortably between you. once you had finished, you set the glasses aside and began discussing the day’s plans. the journey south loomed ahead, the thought of it filling you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

“we need to figure out the best way to get there,” you said, pulling out the paper with the address. “do you know the area well?” his eyes flicked to the paper, and he nodded, a confident gleam in his gaze. “i know it by heart. just follow my lead.”

you handed him the paper, trusting his assurance, and began gathering your things. as you moved around the kitchen, preparing for the journey ahead, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. yoongi’s presence, once so enigmatic and distant, now felt like a steady anchor. with your bags packed and the house secured, you both stepped out into the crisp morning air. the world outside was waking up, the city stretching and yawning as it greeted the new day. yoongi glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he motioned for you to follow him.

the morning air was cool and crisp as you walked side by side with yoongi, the city slowly waking up around you. the streets were beginning to fill with people, the sounds of daily life rising to a gentle hum. you followed him to the train station, the two of you moving in comfortable silence. when you arrived, he fumbled with his pockets, searching for his wallet.

“damn it,” he muttered, pulling out his wallet only to find it empty. he looked at you with a sheepish grin, “looks like i’m broke.” you couldn’t help but smile at his predicament. “don’t worry about it. i’ll cover the fare,” you assured him, stepping up to the ticket counter and purchasing the tickets.

the train ride south was a journey into another world. as the landscape outside the window changed, you were struck by the stark difference between the two sides. the bustling, affluent north gave way to a more rugged, hardscrabble environment. the buildings were older, many in disrepair, and the people looked worn and weary. it was a side of the world you rarely saw, and it filled you with a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

yoongi broke the silence, his voice low and serious. “you should really talk to the police while you’re here, about your father’s office.”

you scoffed, not bothering to hide your disdain. “i’m well aware someone broke in.” he looked at you, a frown creasing his brow. “you should find out who the asshole is.”

“i’ll think about it,” you replied, your tone dismissive. you could feel his eyes on you, trying to understand your reluctance. he couldn’t quite grasp why you wouldn’t use your influence to get the police to do your bidding, but he didn’t press further.

as the train approached the station, you felt a sense of apprehension settle over you. exiting the train, you stepped into the southern town, the stark reality of it hitting you hard. the streets were rough, lined with potholes and crumbling sidewalks. the people moved with a wary kind of urgency, eyes always on the lookout.

passing by the police station sent chills down your spine. the building was imposing, a reminder of authority and power, but also of the corruption and fear that often came with it. you met yoongi’s gaze, seeking reassurance. “do you know where to find the doctor’s house?” he nodded, his expression serious. “yeah, follow me. watch your step.”

you took in the south, grimacing at just how rough people seemed to have it. the poverty and struggle were palpable, a sharp contrast to the world you knew. the journey to the doctor’s house was a winding path through narrow, crowded streets. the further you went, the more apparent it became just how different life was here. when you finally reached the doctor’s house, you were taken aback. the building was old and beat-up, its once-white paint now peeling and faded. the windows were cracked, and the front steps sagged with age and neglect. it was a far cry from the pristine, well-maintained homes you were used to.

“is it safe to enter?” you asked, eyeing the dilapidated house with suspicion. it looked as though it had been abandoned for years, the once-white paint peeling and the windows dusty and cracked. yoongi chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “when we were kids, we used to dare each other to knock on this door. no one ever had the guts to actually do it.” he saw the grimace on your face, the look of horror that flickered across your features, and laughed. “don’t worry. it’s not as bad as it looks.”

you hesitated, watching as he approached the door and knocked. the door swung open with a creak, revealing the shadowy interior. “see? open already,” he said, glancing back at you with a reassuring smile. you trailed behind him, the wooden floorboards creaking under your feet as you called out, “doctor lee?” your voice echoed in the empty space, but there was no answer. the house was a mess, furniture overturned and papers strewn everywhere. it was clear someone had broken in.

“this is a bad idea,” you started to say, turning to him. but before you could finish, a man tumbled out of a closet, wild-eyed and desperate. he tackled yoongi to the ground, hands tightening around his throat with a feral intensity.

you locked eyes with yoongi, his expression shifting from surprise to helplessness under the man’s strangling grip. your heart raced, and you frantically looked around for something to help. spotting a crowbar on the floor, you grabbed it and swung at the man’s head. the blow wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to loosen his grip.

yoongi pulled himself free and pinned the man down as he thrashed. you approached cautiously, meeting the man’s fearful gaze as you crouched beside him. “i’m (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your voice steady as you showed him the letter you had found in your father’s study. the man stopped thrashing, his eyes widening. “are you—his daughter?”

you nodded, and yoongi loosened his grip as the man calmed down. “my father recently passed away,” you said, pausing to steady your voice. “i’m here on his behalf, for the city of gold.”

the man sighed, gesturing to the trashed room. “as you can see, i’ve had a few uninvited visitors.” you nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. “my father’s study was broken into as well.”

he gestured for you both to take a seat, offering you cups of water. “were you friends with my father?” you asked, curiosity tinged with sadness. he scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. “we were, until money got the better of one of us.” he paused, noticing your discomfort. “though i regret not attending his funeral.”

yoongi cut through the tension. “so, where do we go from here?” the doctor analyzed the letter, his eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. “you have the map, so you’re more than close to the gold. all you need now is the gnomon.”

you frowned, puzzled. “what are you talking about?” he leaned forward, his expression serious. “the map is nothing but a guide to the temalacatl. the gnomon, if found, comes with a translation. once placed on the temalacatl, if the timing is right and the moon hits it, the final clue to el dorado is revealed.”

you and yoongi exchanged stunned glances. “how do we get the gnomon?” he asked. the doctor leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “in the south’s museum. the gnomon is one of the artifacts. no one has suspected it to be a clue, but rather a display of el dorado’s existence.”

you turned to yoongi, your mind racing. “how do we get it?” he shrugged, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “you have money, just buy your way in.”

you sneered at his teasing, but before you could retort, the doctor cut in. “no amount of money could match its value. your best bet is to break in,” he paused to adjust his glasses. “i have a friend who monitors the cameras, someone who owes me a favor. he’ll turn a blind eye.”

you smiled, feeling a step closer to your goal. “thank you,” you said, gratitude coloring your voice. “be careful,” the doctor warned, his eyes serious. “this journey is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

with renewed determination, you and yoongi left the doctor’s house, your minds set on the path ahead. the stakes were higher than ever, but you felt a sense of purpose guiding you. the city of gold was within reach. you trailed after yoongi, watching him closely as he navigated the streets with ease. he suddenly changed direction, and you couldn’t help but ask, “aren’t we going to the museum?”

he shook his head, his expression serious. “we need to go to the police now.” you rolled your eyes. “it’s no big deal, yoongi.”

he stopped, turning to face you with a look of determination. “after seeing the pattern in the doctor’s house, it’s too dangerous not to. we can’t take any chances.” you sighed, accepting defeat. there was no arguing with him when he had that look in his eyes. “fine.”

you followed him back to the border, the path to the police station feeling longer and more daunting with each step. as you approached the building, a sense of dread settled in your stomach. yoongi noticed your hesitation and opened the door for you, his presence a small comfort. the room fell silent as you entered, all eyes turning towards you. the heavy atmosphere was suffocating. then, you locked eyes with him. his gaze was icy as it settled on yoongi, a cold glare that sent shivers down your spine.

“what are you doing here?” jungkook’s voice was laced with hostility. yoongi turned to you, confusion evident on his face. you took a deep breath, deciding to break the tension. “this is yoongi, my friend. and yoongi, this is jungkook, my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s displeasure was palpable, but so was yoongi’s. the air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. you cleared your throat, trying to diffuse the situation. “we’re here to report a break-in.” jungkook looked shocked, his cold demeanor softening slightly. “why didn’t you come in sooner?”

you shrugged, attempting to downplay the situation. “i thought it was no big deal.” he sighed, frustration mingling with concern. “it’s always because of the gold, isn’t it?” he shook his head before saying, “i’ll report it further.”

you turned to leave, but jungkook grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. yoongi’s eyes narrowed, his stance becoming protective. “be careful,” he said, his voice softer, a hint of the old familiarity breaking through his stern facade. you met his gaze, your heart aching with the weight of the past. “you too, jungkook.”

you and yoongi left the police station, the tension from the encounter lingering in the air. he remained silent, his mind clearly preoccupied. you walked side by side, the city’s noise fading into the background as your thoughts consumed you. “ex-boyfriend?” he finally asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, though the encounter had left you rattled. “dad forced us to break up, long time ago,” you paused to smile, but there wasn't a trace of humor on your face. “didn't approve of him being from the south.”

your words seemed to be a reminder to him, one that made his gaze harden and his throat close up. one that told him—no matter how close you were, no matter how nice you were to him, you would still be different at the end of the day. you would be the one with money and food on a silver platter, while he would be absolutely no one.

the two of you headed back in the right direction, the urgency of your mission weighing heavily on your minds. you turned to him, breaking the silence. “it’s too early to break in,” you said thoughtfully. he nodded, considering your words. “do you have any suggestions?”

you paused, your eyes drifting over his attire. his clothes made it painfully obvious that he was from the south. a smile tugged at your lips as an idea formed. “there’s no way you’re gonna blend in dressed like that.” his eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “what are you on about?”

you took his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “point me to the nicest clothing store you know. i’ll be your sugar mommy for the week.” he looked defeated, a sigh escaping his lips. “i can’t believe you’re gonna customize me.”

feigning offense, you raised an eyebrow. “are you so against being my barbie doll?” he feigned sympathy, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i assure you, i’ll be the perfect lab rat.”

you pulled him into the most expensive store you could find, which was a challenge in itself given the area. the saleswoman looked stunned as you entered, her professional demeanor momentarily slipping. “what can i help you with?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. beaming, you placed your credit card on the table. “bring out your most expensive attire for my good friend here.” she looked delighted, probably not used to customers willing to spend so much money. “of course,” she agreed eagerly, glancing at yoongi with a gleam in her eye.

you sat on the plush couch in the waiting area, enjoying the luxurious surroundings. yoongi’s look of betrayal made you smile. the first outfit he tried on was a sleek black suit with a narrow tie. you shook your head, unable to suppress a chuckle. “too funeral director.” next, he stepped out in a flamboyant red ensemble, complete with a matching hat. you winced, struggling to keep a straight face. “too circus ringmaster.”

the third outfit was a gaudy, bedazzled jacket and pants combo that sparkled under the store’s lights. you laughed outright, shaking your head. “elvis, can i get an autograph?” his expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement, but he finally emerged in a classic, well-tailored navy suit that fit him perfectly. you stepped forward, adjusting his tie with a satisfied smile. “now, this is perfect.”

he smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “glad to hear it, because it’s my turn to customize you.”

your turn to look mortified, you opened your mouth to protest but he was already leading you to the women’s section. the first outfit he chose was a frilly pink dress that made you look like a cake topper. he grinned as he saw your expression. “my little pony, where've you been?” you nodded, rolling your eyes. the next outfit was a tight leather ensemble that made you feel like a character in a spy movie. “too dominatrix,” he remarked with a smirk.

the third was an extravagant, sequined gown that you could barely move in. “too disco ball,” he said, laughing at your discomfort. finally, you stepped out in a simple, elegant dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. his eyes widened, and he stared at you, stunned. “you look stunning.”

blushing under his intense gaze, you mumbled a thank you. you paid for the outfits, the saleswoman’s eyes gleaming with delight at the hefty commission she’d just earned. as you left the store, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound confidence in your new attire, matching yoongi’s sophisticated look.

he looked around, assessing the bustling streets, then turned to you. “it’s still too early for anything,” he said thoughtfully. you glanced at him, reminding him with a gentle smile, “you didn’t have anything for breakfast. how about lunch?”

he hesitated, a tinge of guilt in his eyes. “i feel bad for leeching off you.” taking his hand, you squeezed it reassuringly. “we’re working together, aren’t we?” his heart fluttered at your touch and words, an unwelcome reminder of the emotions he tried to suppress. he hated how he felt, knowing there was no logical reason for his heart to react this way. you were out of his league, a fact he couldn’t forget.

you both opted for a local restaurant, a cozy place with a warm ambiance. as you sat down and began perusing the menu, you couldn’t help but comment, “there really aren’t any affogatos here.” he chuckled, the memory of the sweet taste lingering. “welcome to my world,” he said with a grin. after a pause, he asked, “you promise to make me another one?”

“of course,” you replied, your eyes twinkling. “i’ll make as many as you want.” you both ordered your meals and settled into a discussion about the gnomon. the restaurant’s hum provided a comforting backdrop as you outlined your plans.

“it’s crucial to get the translation that comes with the gnomon,” you emphasized.

he nodded, confidence in his gaze. “that won’t be an issue.” he paused, then asked, “how will we get to south america?”

you smiled, enjoying the chance to surprise him. “i’ll take one of the company’s planes and call the pilot.” his reaction was priceless, a mixture of awe and disbelief. you leaned in, your smile widening. “welcome to my world.”

as the food arrived, you took a moment to appreciate the simplicity and warmth of the place. the dishes were hearty and comforting, a stark contrast to the opulence you were used to. the conversation flowed naturally, a balance of light-hearted banter and serious planning. his eyes sparkled as he spoke about the next steps. “we need to figure out the museum’s security layout. breaking in won’t be easy, but if we time it right, we’ll have a small window.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “we’ll need to be in and out quickly. any delay could be disastrous.” the weight of the task ahead pressed down on both of you, but there was a strange comfort in sharing this burden. the restaurant’s charm and the simplicity of the meal offered a brief respite, a moment of normalcy in the midst of chaos.

after lunch, you both felt more grounded, ready to tackle the challenges ahead. as you exited the restaurant, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm glow over the city. the streets seemed less daunting now, each step bringing you closer to the heart of your mission. he glanced at you, a determined look in his eyes. “ready?” you nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “ready.”

the two of you walked in silence, the setting sun casting long shadows across the city. the south seemed to blend seamlessly with the encroaching darkness, the streets and alleys taking on an almost sinister feel as twilight gave way to night. as you approached the museum, yoongi unexpectedly took your hand into his. startled, you turned to him.

“what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a low whisper. he squeezed your hand gently. “act natural,” he replied, his eyes scanning the area. it was only then that you noticed how many people were around, their movements and chatter blending into the evening’s backdrop.

taking his lead, you relaxed, entwining your fingers with his as you began to circle the park in front of the museum. its grand structure, despite its worn exterior, loomed ahead of you. you locked eyes with the security camera in front and quickly looked away, trying not to appear suspicious.

as the crowd began to thin, you tugged yoongi’s hand and led him toward the museum’s entrance. the lady at the front desk looked up, informing you with a tired smile that they were about to close. you laughed lightly, flashing her a charming smile. “we’ll be out soon,” you promised, pausing to straighten yoongi’s hair. “i just have to show my boyfriend the dead sea scrolls.”

she smiled and nodded, her suspicions seemingly allayed. yoongi leaned in and whispered, “what are you doing?”

“act natural,” you murmured back, trying to suppress your own nerves. suddenly, you heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. before you knew it, he had pushed you into the nearby janitor’s closet. the space was small and cramped, your bodies pressed close together. you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as yoongi placed a finger on his lips, signaling for silence. his own breath was unsteady, and his face was inches away from yours.

he leaned in closer, his breath warm on your cheek. “are you okay?” he whispered. uou nodded, your eyes meeting his. he smiled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. the closeness was electrifying, your shared anxiety heightening every sensation.

when the lights finally dimmed and the building fell silent, you carefully opened the door and slipped out. the museum, now cloaked in darkness, seemed even more imposing. you began your search, moving stealthily through the exhibits. the shadows played tricks on your eyes, and the vast emptiness amplified every creak and whisper. as you moved through the museum, a sinking feeling of defeat began to settle in. you found nothing of use. but then, yoongi tugged your sleeve and pointed upward. you followed his gaze and saw a narrow staircase hidden in the shadows.

you ascended the stairs as quietly as possible, each step creaking beneath your weight. your hand found its way back into yoongi’s, a silent reassurance. as you reached the top, you both froze. there it was—the enclosure, and the sign reading “kalingo's gnomon.”

a smile of disbelief spread across your face. you couldn’t believe it. carefully, you began working on the enclosure. yoongi kept watch as you bypassed the security measures with trembling fingers. the thrill of the illicit act coursed through your veins, making each second feel like an eternity. finally, you managed to open the enclosure. the gnomon was a beautiful artifact, ancient and intricately designed. hidden inside it was the translation you needed. you held it up triumphantly, your eyes meeting yoongi’s in a shared moment of victory.

but the triumph was short-lived. the distant sound of police sirens shattered the moment as panic surged through you. “that asshole set us up,” he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief.

there was no time to waste. grabbing his hand, you pulled him away, clutching the gnomon tightly. you ran through the darkened halls, your footsteps echoing in the empty museum. the sirens grew louder, closer. desperation fueled your movements. you found an emergency exit and burst through it, emerging into a back alley. the cold night air hit you, but you didn’t stop. you ran, yoongi right beside you, the gnomon weighing heavily in your hands.

the sound of police sirens echoed through the streets, the lights flashing ominously in the distance. you navigated through the narrow alleys, your breath coming in ragged gasps. every corner turned, every shadow passed, you felt the urgency of your escape. yoongi pulled you toward a hidden passage, a narrow corridor between buildings. you squeezed through, the gnomon clutched tightly to your chest. the passage opened up to another alley, and you kept running, the adrenaline driving you forward.

finally, you reached a more secluded area, the sirens now distant. you stopped to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. yoongi was beside you, his own breath coming in heavy gasps. “we made it,” he panted, a triumphant yet exhausted smile on his face. you nodded, clutching the gnomon. “we made it.”

the museum was abuzz with activity, police officers scattered around like ants after a disturbed nest. flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating exhibits and casting long shadows on the walls. the chief stood in the center of the chaos, his voice a steady bark of commands.

“secure the perimeter!” he ordered, his eyes sharp and uncompromising. “i want every exit covered. jungkook, get up here and find out who’s behind this.” jungkook, who had been examining the front desk, straightened up at the sound of his name. he moved quickly, his steps purposeful as he approached the chief.

“the security cameras were disabled,” he reported, frustration edging his voice. he glanced at the monitors, now lifeless and dark. the chief's frown deepened, but he gave a curt nod. “find out how they did it and who was involved,” the chief instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

jungkook’s jaw tightened as he turned on his heel, a sense of urgency propelling him forward. he moved through the museum with swift efficiency, his eyes scanning for any clue, any sign of who might have been responsible. when he reached the staircase, he took them two at a time, his breath coming in controlled bursts.

reaching the top, he found the enclosure that housed kalingo's gnomon. or, rather, what had housed it. the case was empty, the artifact gone. jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his fists clenching at his sides. the dim light of his flashlight revealed the remnants of the security system, bypassed with a level of skill that spoke of careful planning. his frustration bubbled over, and he slammed his fist into the nearby table, the sound echoing through the empty halls. he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. his eyes fell on the empty case once more, and a bitter scoff escaped his lips. he knew who had done this, knew it with a certainty that gnawed at his insides.

“it was you, wasn’t it?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of anger and disbelief. the emptiness of the museum echoed back at him, the silence heavy with the weight of his realization. he stood there for a moment longer, his mind racing with thoughts of you, of how you had outmaneuvered them all. the artifact was gone, and with it, a part of the plan he had thought was secure.

you turned to yoongi, your voice firm yet laden with the urgency of the situation. “we need to go back to the north,” you told him. he arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” he asked.

“it’s too risky to stay in daegu,” you replied. “we need to leave for south america as soon as possible.” he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. the two of you made your way to the train station, blending into the evening crowd. as you waited for the next train, you pulled out your phone and called the pilot, an old friend of your father’s. you spoke in hushed tones, the urgency clear in your voice.

“can you get the plane ready for tonight?” you asked, the anxiety creeping into your tone. there was a brief pause before the pilot responded. “everything will be ready in an hour,” he assured you. you thanked him and ended the call, turning to yoongi with a relieved expression, repeating what the pilot had told you.

the train arrived, and you both boarded, finding seats near the back. exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, the adrenaline from the heist beginning to fade. you settled into your seat, the rhythmic clatter of the train lulling you into a state of relaxation. before long, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, your head coming to rest on yoongi’s shoulder.

he stiffened at the unexpected contact, his heart fluttering as he glanced down at your sleeping form. the sight of you sleeping so soundly against him was disarming. he felt a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite name. he questioned his motives—was he really in this just for the money? he needed to be selfish, to think of his own survival, but the sight of you, so vulnerable and trusting, made him feel something far less selfish.

as the train neared its destination, he gently nudged you awake. “we’re here,” he murmured softly. you blinked, disoriented for a moment before reality set in. together, you made your way to the penthouse, your exhaustion evident in every step. he noticed and asked, “are you gonna be okay?”

“i’ll be fine,” you assured him, though your voice betrayed your weariness. as you walked, yoongi’s leg began to nag him, the feeling practically unbearable. he brushed it off, telling you it was nothing. you arrived at the penthouse and discovered that your father’s study remained untouched, the mess from the break-in still present. the police hadn’t been there.

“it’ll be okay,” yoongi said, his voice a soothing balm. you nodded and began packing the necessities. as you did, you took a moment to examine the gnomon. the translation depicted various symbols in an ancient, foreign language, their meanings written beside them: moon, wisdom, light, vision, and finally, gold. the gnomon itself was beautiful, meticulously crafted.

yoongi’s voice broke your train of thought. “pretty, isn’t it?” you met his gaze, his eyes soft and gentle. you smiled, your heart warming. “beautiful,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. with a final look around, you locked up and stuffed the gnomon into your backpack. together, you and yoongi made your way to the runway, the weight of the artifact and the journey ahead pressing on your shoulders. the night air was cool, filled with the promise of escape and the unknown.

as you and yoongi reached the runway, the scene before you was a mixture of mechanical roar and illuminated metal. the plane, sleek and powerful, rumbled softly as if it was eager for the night sky. yoongi's eyes widened in awe, his fascination with the aircraft evident in the way he stared, his expression a blend of wonder and disbelief. the pilot, a tall man with a warm smile and a firm handshake, stepped out from the cockpit. he greeted you with a friendly nod. “good to see you,” you said. “i’m sorry for the late call.”

“it’s no big deal,” the pilot replied, waving off your apology. he then turned his gaze to yoongi, his curiosity piqued. “and who’s this?”

he stepped forward, offering a polite bow. “i’m min yoongi, a friend of hers.” the word “friend” felt strangely hollow to him. he wasn’t merely content with being your friend. he wanted to be more, to be someone who mattered deeply in your life. the pilot didn’t seem to notice the subtext, merely acknowledging yoongi with a nod.

“so, where are you headed?” the pilot asked, checking his watch. you sighed, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. “we’re going to colombia.”

the pilot’s eyes widened slightly. “long flight,” he remarked. “but we’ll get you there. please, board when you’re ready.”

as you and yoongi began to make your way to the aircraft, a sudden, unmistakable wail of sirens pierced the night air. panic surged through you, your instincts kicking in. “hurry,” you urged him, your voice sharp with urgency. yoongi, wincing as his injured leg flared up, struggled to keep pace. you reached out, steadying him as you both hurried up the stairs to the plane. his face was a mask of determination and anxiety, the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten in the rush to escape.

as the sirens grew louder, the police cars drew nearer, their flashing lights painting the runway in ominous hues of red and blue. the pilot, already in the cockpit, began the pre-flight checklist with practiced efficiency. the engines roared to life, the sound growing louder as the plane began its ascent. with a final, frantic glance over your shoulder, you and yoongi took your seats. the plane began to move, its wheels vibrating with the power needed to lift off the ground. the rumble beneath you grew more intense as the aircraft picked up speed, racing against the encroaching sirens.

outside, the police cars skidded to a halt, their occupants scrambling to make sense of the situation. the sight of the plane accelerating down the runway, its engines a symphony of raw power, left them momentarily stunned. the aircraft surged forward, its nose lifting, and with a shuddering roar, it took off into the night sky. the plane ascended rapidly, the lights of the runway and the police cars below shrinking into the distance. the sirens grew faint, the chase turning into a distant echo. Inside the plane, you and yoongi exchanged glances, a mix of relief and exhilaration in your eyes. the weight of the gnomon in your backpack felt lighter somehow, the imminent danger replaced by the thrill of the escape.

as the plane settled into its cruising altitude, the rhythmic hum of the engines provided a steady backdrop to the tense quiet between you and yoongi. the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sharp wince escaping him each time he moved. you turned to him, concern etched into your expression. “what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

he waved it off with a weak smile. “it’s nothing,” he replied, though his strained tone betrayed the lie. skeptical, you pressed further, and to his surprise, you pushed him back down onto his seat with gentle insistence. “you’re not fooling me,” you said firmly. as you knelt by his side, you began to roll up the leg of his pants. the fabric pulled away to reveal deep, bleeding scratches on his calf. your breath hitched at the sight of the raw, inflamed wounds.

looking up at him, you asked softly, “why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he offered a sheepish smile. “i didn’t want to be a bother,” he said, his eyes softening with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude.

you shook your head, a mix of frustration and tenderness in your gaze. “you’ve never been a bother,” you assured him. from your backpack, you retrieved a small medicinal kit and set to work. xarefully, you cleaned the wounds, your hands moving with practiced ease. the antiseptic stung, but yoongi gritted his teeth, his eyes locked on you as you worked.

the moment your eyes met his, a fleeting silence filled the space between you. the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you could see the same flutter of emotions reflected in his eyes. the simple act of caring for him felt charged with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name.

when you pressed a fresh bandage onto the wound, your fingertips brushed his skin lightly. you hesitated for a brief moment before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the bandaged scratch. the touch was soft, and the warmth of your lips left he momentarily stunned. he stared at you, his heart racing, as you pulled away with a smile. “i’m gonna go change,” you said softly, standing up and heading toward the bathroom.

yoongi watched you leave, a wave of conflicting thoughts crashing over him. a part of him urged him to follow you, driven by a desire he couldn’t quite understand. another part cautioned him against it, whispering that he had no right to expect anything more. despite the hesitation, his longing prevailed, and he found himself following you down the narrow aisle.

to his surprise, the bathroom door was ajar. peering inside, he caught sight of you as you began to undress. his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he saw you peel the dress over your head, revealing your bra and panties. the sight of you, so vulnerable and unguarded, made his pulse quicken. for a brief, uncomfortable moment, he felt like an intruder. the guilt was almost overwhelming. but as soon as you turned around, meeting his gaze with a knowing smirk, all sense of propriety melted away.

“i knew you’d follow me,” you whispered, your voice teasing and confident. his gaze softened as he took in the sight of you. “smart girl,” he murmured under his breath, his voice thick with emotion.

without another word, he crossed the threshold into the bathroom, his intentions clear. his hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you with a desperate urgency. his lips were warm and insistent against yours, the kiss deepening with every passing second. he lifted you gently onto the sink, your body pressed against the cool surface. his arms wrapped around you, holding you securely as the kiss continued. the world outside the small bathroom faded away, leaving only the intimate connection between you two. the air was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the steady thrum of the plane’s engines, a rhythmic accompaniment to the closeness you shared.

his hands began to roam, tracing the curves of your body as he kissed your neck. you moaned softly, arching into his touch, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. he fumbled with the clasp of your bra, finally freeing your tits to his eager palms. they were soft and warm, and he took a moment to appreciate their perfection before taking one into his mouth, suckling gently. you threw your head back, the pleasure of his touch sending shockwaves through your body. your hands found their way to his belt, deftly unbuckling it as his own hands worked on your panties. the fabric slid down your legs, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

his cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his pants. with trembling hands, you reached down and freed him, stroking the length of him as he moaned against your skin. he was velvet over steel, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the power he held in your grasp. the need to have him inside you grew stronger with every stroke, your pussy wet and ready. you spread your legs wider, inviting him closer. he stepped between them, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself.

his hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your face to look at him. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and gruff. you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “yes, yoongi. i want you, all of you,” you whispered. with that, he plunged into you, filling you up in one quick motion. the suddenness of it made you gasp, your eyes widening with pleasure and a hint of pain. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move, his hips rocking into yours in a rhythm that was as old as time itself.

each thrust was punctuated by a string of dirty words that only served to heighten the intensity. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “you feel so good, baby. so fucking good.” you responded with your own vulgarities, urging him to go harder, faster. the pleasure built in you like a storm, threatening to break at any moment. your breath grew ragged as you clung to him, the muscles in your thighs tightening around his waist.

the bathroom was a cocoon of passion, the only reality that of your bodies joined together. outside, the plane continued its journey, but in that moment, you were both in a world of your own making. he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more forceful as he approached climax. you could feel him swelling inside you, and the thought of him cumming, filling you up, was almost too much to bear.

as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body spasmed around him, tightening like a vice. he growled low in his throat, his own orgasm crashing over him. he pumped into you once, twice, before stilling, his cock pulsing with release. your eyes met in the mirror, both of you panting and flushed. the aftermath of your encounter was a heady mix of satisfaction and awe.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him deep inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the feeling of his warmth. finally, he pulled out, a trail of cum connecting you both. you watched in the mirror as he tucked himself away, your eyes never leaving his. without a word, he helped you down from the sink, and you stepped into the crumpled pile of clothes on the floor. the moment was raw and unfiltered, and you both knew that what had just happened was more than just a casual hookup. it was a declaration of something deeper, something that could not be contained by the confines of any social class.

as yoongi pulled his shirt and shorts back on, you noticed the shift in his demeanor, a soft, contemplative smile on his face. he crouched down before you, his gaze steady and reassuring. his eyes searched yours with a warmth that made your heart skip. “this was meant to happen,” he said gently, the sincerity in his voice undeniable.

you tugged on a shirt and shorts, trying to compose yourself, but his words lingered in your mind. “what do you mean?” you asked, your voice slightly uncertain as you tried to make sense of the sudden shift in his tone.

with a tender smile, he reached out, taking your wrist gently and pulling you closer to him. you were startled by the sudden contact, but his touch was soft, almost comforting. “you feel it too, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. a shiver ran down your spine, the gravity of his words sinking in. you understood perfectly what he meant, and the truth was unmistakable. You nodded slowly, your gaze never leaving his.

you then asked, “did you agree to help me because of the gold?” your tone was casual, but there was a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability that you rarely showed. he thought for a moment before responding. “yes, i did,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “but it’s more complicated now.”

his eyes softened, and he took a deep breath. “if you wanted me to leave without a single piece of gold, just to keep you, i’d agree,” he said, his voice steady and resolute. the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest. the sincerity of his offer was palpable, and it touched a chord within you. without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. this time, the kiss was tender and filled with a sweetness that spoke of unspoken promises and deeper emotions.

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm, reassuring embrace. his touch was gentle yet firm, as if he was afraid to let go. “i promise,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soothing balm, “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

as he settled into a comfortable position beside you, his exhaustion finally overtaking him, you couldn't help but be captivated by the serene expression on his face. his fingers, though initially restless, gradually stilled and began to curl around the string of your shorts, his touch soft and almost tentative. it was a small, intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes about his trust and the vulnerability he felt in this moment.

you watched him with a tender smile, your heart swelling with a warmth you hadn't expected to feel. the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply was soothing, and the occasional twitch of his fingers only added to the sense of closeness between you. you reached out with a gentle hand and began to stroke his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers like water.

the rhythmic motion of your hand on his head seemed to calm him even more, and you could see the tension in his shoulders gradually easing. his face, now relaxed and peaceful, was a stark contrast to the strained expression he'd worn earlier. as you continued to stroke his hair, a sense of contentment washed over you. you could feel the weight of the day’s events lifting, replaced by the simple joy of having him close.

the dim light of the cabin illuminated his features in a soft glow, casting gentle shadows that accentuated his relaxed expression. each breath he took was steady and rhythmic, and you found yourself enveloped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. there was something profoundly comforting about watching him fall asleep, the trust and connection between you palpable.

your own eyelids began to droop as the soothing motion of your hand on his hair combined with the rhythmic hum of the plane. the exhaustion of the day’s events, coupled with the calm of the cabin, lulled you into a state of tranquility. with one last, affectionate brush of your fingers through his hair, you allowed yourself to lean back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand. soon, sleep claimed you as well, your body relaxing into the cushioned seat. the warmth of his presence and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing created a cocoon of comfort around you.

the jarring sound of the cockpit door sliding open snapped you from your slumber. startled, you glanced around, your heart racing as the plane lurched violently beneath you. yoongi, still groggy, looked up with wide, alarmed eyes as the pilot’s voice cut through the chaos.

“we’re being shot at,” the pilot’s voice was strained but controlled, “we’re heading towards the sea. brace yourselves!”

the words barely had time to sink in before the plane shuddered again, the turbulence throwing you against yoongi. the once smooth hum of the engines was now a discordant roar, the plane tilting violently to one side. the cabin lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the aircraft struggled to maintain altitude.

his hand gripped yours tightly, his face pale but determined. “do you remember what i told you earlier?” he shouted over the cacophony. his voice, though steady, betrayed his underlying fear. you nodded vigorously, your own heart pounding in your chest. fear clawed at your insides, but you managed to force a shaky smile. his reassuring gaze was your anchor amidst the turmoil. without a word, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his warm lips a stark contrast to the cold sweat that coated your skin. “nothing will happen to you,” he promised, his voice low and fierce. “i promised.”

the plane shuddered again, and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, “prepare for impact!” the words barely registered before the plane began its final, harrowing descent. the cabin filled with a cacophony of alarm bells and frantic shouts. you clung to yoongi as the plane lurched and pitched, the sensation of weightlessness making your stomach churn. he pulled you close, his arms a steadfast shield against the chaos.

with a heart-stopping jolt, the plane hit the water. the impact was brutal, the fuselage groaning and buckling as it collided with the ocean’s surface. water sprayed violently through the shattered windows, the once sleek interior now a scene of disaster. yoongi’s grip tightened around you as you were both thrown against the seatbacks, the force of the crash sending waves of cold seawater surging through the cabin. the cabin lights went out, leaving you in near-total darkness save for the sporadic flashes of lightning outside. yoongi pulled you from your seat, his movements urgent but controlled. “we need to get out!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the ocean and the crackling wreckage.

you both stumbled toward the emergency exits, the plane listing heavily to one side. with adrenaline coursing through your veins, you forced open the nearest emergency exit, the rush of cold seawater flooding in as you leaped out into the chaotic surf. he followed closely behind, his strong arms encircling you as you were both engulfed by the freezing sea. the water was a violent, tumultuous mess, the waves crashing over you with relentless force. you fought to keep your head above the surface, clinging to the debris and floating wreckage that bobbed around you. yoongi’s grip never wavered, his hand firmly clasped around yours as you struggled to stay afloat amidst the disorienting swirl of water.

in the distance, you could hear distant cries and the sharp crack of gunfire, the sounds merging with the roar of the ocean and the wreckage. the fear was palpable, but yoongi’s steady presence kept you focused. you both swam with powerful, determined strokes, using any piece of floating debris as leverage to propel yourselves toward the distant shore. the journey was grueling, each stroke through the water a battle against exhaustion and the pounding waves. every moment felt like an eternity, but his reassuring presence and the glimmer of hope that came with nearing the shore kept you going. the distant lights of the coastline finally came into view, a beacon of salvation amidst the chaos.

when you finally reached the shore, your legs nearly gave out as you collapsed onto the wet sand. yoongi, equally exhausted, pulled himself beside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. his eyes were full of concern as he reached out to brush the wet hair from your forehead. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice strained but sincere. you nodded, the weight of the situation hitting you as you took stock of your belongings. the gnomon, the translation, and the map were still secure, clutched tightly in your backpack. you knew you had to run, that the danger wasn’t over, but for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to rest, the cool sand beneath you a small comfort after the nightmarish ordeal.

the oppressive heat of the jungle enveloped you both as you sprinted through the thick, tangled foliage, the weight of the humid air pressing down on you. the map you clutched in one hand was a precious guide through the dense undergrowth, each step a challenge as you navigated the uneven terrain. the trees loomed like sentinels, their thick branches entwining above you, casting fleeting shadows that danced in the flickering light of the dense canopy. the cries of unseen creatures echoed through the thick air, mingling with the rapid pounding of your heart.

yoongi ran beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven, the adrenaline driving him forward despite the exhaustion. his eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. the map led you through a labyrinth of green, the path seemingly endless as you pressed on, guided by the urgent need to escape and survive.

as the dense forest began to thin, you emerged into a small clearing that revealed a scene both unexpected and alarming. before you lay a group of makeshift cabins, their structures rudimentary but functional, scattered across the clearing. the people gathered there, clad in worn clothing and armed with an assortment of weapons, looked up in confusion as you and yoongi stumbled into their view.

the first shot rang out, slamming into the ground just inches from where you stood. the deafening crack shattered the moment of stunned silence, and yoongi's instincts kicked in. “we need to move!” he shouted, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards a nearby hill.

the shouts and cries in rapid spanish grew louder, and the threat of a fight was imminent. despite yoongi’s desperate pleas to keep running, you stopped abruptly. he turned to you, his eyes wide with concern. “what are you doing?” you reached into your backpack and, to his astonishment, pulled out a sleek pistol. the weight of the weapon was reassuring in your hand, the cold metal a stark contrast to the sweltering heat. as the cries grew nearer, you positioned yourself behind a nearby tree, your focus sharp as you aimed. the first shot echoed through the clearing, and the sound of a body hitting the ground followed soon after.

a tense silence fell, broken only by the distant rustling of the jungle and the pounding of your own heartbeat. the sight of the armed group retreating was a small victory, and you took it as your cue to keep moving. you turned to yoongi, who watched in disbelief as you wrestled with your backpack, pulling out a second pistol and handing it to him. “here,” you said, your voice steady despite the situation. “you’re gonna need this.”

he took the weapon with a mixture of awe and amusement, his eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were from the south.” you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “that’s funny,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “my boyfriend’s actually from the south.”

the comment left yoongi momentarily flustered, his cheeks flushing a shade darker as he tried to regain his composure. you watched with amusement as he stumbled over his words, clearly thrown by your unexpected jest. his flustered reaction was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere, adding a moment of lightness to the chaos. “let’s go,” you urged him, still smiling as you began to lead the way up the hill. the weight of the pistols and the urgency of the situation kept you moving, despite the lingering laughter and the adrenaline that surged through your veins.

the climb up the hill was strenuous, the incline steep and the jungle’s undergrowth relentless. every step was a struggle, but the sight of the jungle stretching out below you and the promise of safety spurred you onward. yoongi, now more focused, followed closely behind, his earlier embarrassment replaced by a determined resolve. as you reached the top of the hill, the dense forest stretched out before you, a sprawling sea of green that offered both cover and a potential escape route. the distant shouts of the armed group faded, replaced by the relentless buzz of insects and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

the jungle seemed endless, its thick, humid air wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating cloak. the undergrowth scratched at your legs, and the sweat trickling down your face made each step feel like a monumental effort. the map clutched tightly in your hand felt like it was growing heavier with each mile, and despite the fleeting moments of adrenaline, fatigue began to seep into your bones.

after what felt like an eternity of walking, you finally had to stop. you slumped down onto a large, flat rock, your breathing ragged as you tried to catch your breath. yoongi, equally exhausted, immediately knelt beside you, his eyes filled with concern. without a word, he reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water. the cool liquid felt like a balm to your parched throat as he pressed the bottle to your lips, tilting it gently so you could drink.

as you took the water, yoongi’s gaze was unwavering, his worry etched into the lines of his face. once you’d finished drinking, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm, reassuring hug. the embrace was warm despite the humid air, a small but meaningful comfort amidst the chaos. “don’t give up,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “remember why we’re here. we’re so close.”

his words, combined with his steady presence, gave you a renewed sense of determination. you nodded against his shoulder, drawing strength from his embrace. with a deep breath, you stood up, feeling the weight of exhaustion but also a spark of renewed resolve. he helped you up, and you both continued on, the map guiding you through the darkening forest.

the path became more challenging as night fell, but the promise of reaching your destination kept you moving. the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting an ethereal glow on the trail as you pressed on. eventually, the sound of rushing water grew louder, a welcome symphony amidst the quiet of the jungle.

you emerged into a small clearing, and the sight that greeted you took your breath away. before you stood a magnificent waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering in the moonlight. the scene was nothing short of magical. the waterfall tumbled down from a high cliff, creating a misty veil that danced in the cool night air. the pool at its base was clear and serene, reflecting the moon’s pale light.

a smile spread across yoongi’s face as he watched your reaction. “do you like it?” he asked, his voice filled with gentle amusement. you nodded, awestruck. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. “i remember my father telling stories about a waterfall just like this one. it was part of his tales about el dorado.”

yoongi’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a shared understanding passing between you. the waterfall’s beauty, combined with the shared memory of your father’s stories, made the moment deeply emotional. it was as if the waterfall itself was a bridge between your past and the present, connecting you to the stories and dreams that had driven you this far.

you both set up camp for the night near the base of the waterfall. the sound of the water was soothing, a constant, rhythmic lullaby that provided a comforting backdrop to your efforts. yoongi worked alongside you, his movements methodical and efficient as he helped you arrange the sleeping bags and set up a small, portable cooking area. the familiar routine of setting up camp offered a small measure of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

as the camp was finally set up, you both sat down on the grass, the waterfall’s mist gently cooling your skin. you looked over at him, who was gazing at the waterfall with a thoughtful expression. there was something profoundly peaceful about the scene, a serene contrast to the turmoil and danger that had marked your journey so far.

you joined yoongi in watching the waterfall, the soothing sound of the cascading water providing a sense of calm. the moonlight cast a soft glow over the scene, illuminating the mist that rose from the pool below. you felt a deep, soothing connection to the moment, a rare opportunity to reflect and find solace in the midst of the ongoing struggle.

as you sat together in the stillness of the night, you could feel the exhaustion slowly melting away, replaced by a profound sense of tranquility. the world felt smaller and more manageable, with the waterfall standing as a reminder of the beauty that still existed amidst the chaos. eventually, the fatigue of the day caught up with both of you. you lay down on your sleeping bag, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you settled into a comfortable position. yoongi lay down beside you, and for a while, you both simply stared at the waterfall, the sound of the water creating a rhythmic lullaby that seemed to echo the beat of your hearts.

the moon’s silvery light filtered through the canopy, casting ethereal shadows across the forest floor. you stirred awake, the intense brightness of the moon penetrating even the depth of your sleep. the waterfall’s gentle murmur was a soothing backdrop as you pushed yourself up, blinking against the stark contrast of moonlight and shadow. beside you, yoongi shifted and slowly roused from his sleep. his eyes, still heavy with fatigue, met yours with a mix of curiosity and concern. you motioned for him to follow as you began gathering your things, the urgency of the quest fueling your movements. the map, now slightly crumpled from its journey, was securely tucked into your backpack, and with a quick glance at him, you headed back towards the trail.

the jungle was even more enigmatic under the moon’s pale glow. the sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the air, their calls mingling with the rustle of the leaves. your steps were careful, the ground slick from the earlier rain, but determination guided you as you followed the map’s instructions.

after what seemed like an eternity of navigating through the dense foliage, the trees finally began to thin out. the faintest hint of a clearing emerged, and you and yoongi came to a sudden halt as your eyes adjusted to the sight before you. there, partially obscured by undergrowth and moss, lay an array of stone blocks arranged in a circular formation. the structure had an ancient, solemn feel to it, with stones arranged in a pattern that suggested a deep significance.

both of you stood in awe. the arrangement resembled a grave—an ancient tomb perhaps—yet something about it seemed to pulse with an undeniable energy. you approached the structure with a cautious reverence, your eyes scanning the weathered stones for any inscriptions or clues.

as you examined the array more closely, your heart skipped a beat. there, in the center of the stone formation, was a circular depression, perfectly sized for the gnomon you had carried from the museum. the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity. this was no mere grave; it was the temalacatl, the ancient aztec stone disk that had been lost to legend. yoongi’s face lit up with a triumphant smile as he moved closer. he pressed a soft, celebratory kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. his eyes were alight with the thrill of discovery, and for a moment, the exhaustion and danger of your journey were forgotten in the joy of this breakthrough.

carefully, he retrieved the gnomon from your backpack. with a precise and practiced hand, he placed it into the center of the temalacatl. it fit perfectly, the gnomon slotting into place with a satisfying click. as the moonlight streamed through the canopy, it illuminated the gnomon and the stone disk below, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow. the symbols on the gnomon began to glow with an otherworldly brilliance, casting their reflections onto the surrounding stones. your breath caught in your throat as the illumination revealed ancient glyphs on the temalacatl. the sight was nothing short of breathtaking; the symbols seemed to come alive in the moonlight, their meanings unfolding before your eyes.

“write everything down,” you instructed urgently, your voice barely above a whisper. yoongi, still in awe, nodded and quickly pulled out a notebook and pencil, capturing every detail of the illuminated symbols. as you both studied the glowing symbols, you read aloud the translations of the ones you recognized: “man,” “moon,” “light,” “vision,” “gold.” each word felt like a piece of a larger puzzle falling into place. the symbols began to fade, the light dimming until only the moonlight remained to highlight the ancient carvings.

you and yoongi huddled together, scrutinizing the symbols and comparing them to the translations you had written down. the process was meticulous, each detail requiring careful consideration. the illuminated symbols had revealed a pattern, a message encoded in the ancient language. after a series of detailed cross-references and careful matching, you both reached a conclusion.

he looked up from his notes, his expression reflecting the gravity of your findings. you took a deep breath and read aloud, your voice steady despite the enormity of the revelation: “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold.” the words hung in the air, their significance slowly sinking in. the message was clear; it was not the physical light that revealed the treasure, but rather a deeper understanding, guided by the celestial influence of the moon. it was a profound realization, a testament to the wisdom of the ancients and the power of the celestial realm in guiding you to your goal.

“what does it mean?” your question hung in the air, reverberating with a weight you could scarcely comprehend. your heart pounded with the intensity of the revelation, but before yoongi could respond with any further insight, another voice sliced through the silence.

“indeed, tell us,” the voice demanded, its tone cold and authoritative. “what does it mean?”

both you and yoongi turned towards the shadow that had emerged from the dense foliage. the moonlight, once a gentle guide, now cast a harsh light on the intruder. your breath caught in your throat as the figure stepped into the clearing. a tear-streaked smile graced his face, one that spoke of a complex web of emotions—pride, relief, and something else, something darker. he moved toward you with a deliberate calm, his eyes reflecting both sorrow and triumph.

“you did it,” your father said softly, his voice filled with an almost paternal affection. “i knew you would.”

the words, spoken with such a mix of warmth and finality, shattered something deep within you. the emotional dam you had been holding back broke free, and you began to sob uncontrollably. the sight of your father, after all you had been through, overwhelmed you. you stumbled back, instinctively clinging to yoongi, seeking comfort in his presence as the reality of the situation sank in.

your father’s eyes shifted to yoongi, his expression turning to one of cold calculation. “your silence will be well rewarded,” he said, his voice carrying a note of sinister finality.

panic surged through you. “what does he mean?” you asked yoongi, your voice trembling as you turned to him. the realization of betrayal was sharp, the knife of distrust cutting deeper with every passing second. you watched as his face fell, his expression crumpling into one of despair. your father’s gaze remained fixed on you, unyielding. “don’t you know? it took a lot of money to convince him not to tell you about me.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. betrayal surged through you, mingling with your grief. anger and hurt bubbled to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you slapped yoongi across the face. the sting of your hand on his cheek seemed to punctuate the pain of the moment. his eyes were wide with tears as he blinked them away, the hurt evident in every feature. “i’m sorry,” he managed to say, his voice choked. “i needed you to be safe.” the raw emotion in his voice made you cry harder, unable to calm down. you had trusted him implicitly, and now that trust lay in tatters. the anger slowly ebbed away, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion and a profound sense of betrayal.

your father’s approach was gentle as he reached out to stroke your hair. “i had to leave,” he explained softly, his voice soothing despite the turmoil. “you saw what they did to my study. i knew you would find the trail. i knew you would find me.” tears streamed down your face as his words washed over you, but you didn’t have the energy to resist. the emotional drain of the journey, combined with the shock of his unexpected reappearance and yoongi’s betrayal, left you numb.

“don’t be mad at yoongi,” your father continued, his hand still comforting. “he needed to be someone you could trust to make sure you were safe. it was the only way.”

you watched as yoongi knelt beside you, his face etched with regret and pain. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “i needed you to be safe. that’s all that mattered to me.” the sincerity in his apology, coupled with the exhaustion that had begun to overpower your emotions, made you too tired to respond. the weight of everything that had happened, from the dangerous chase through the jungle to the heart-wrenching betrayal, had left you drained.

as you followed the map in silence, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. you refused to look at either your father or yoongi, the emotional chasm between you all too wide to bridge in that moment. the forest seemed to close in around you as you walked, each step heavy with the burden of recent revelations.

as you walked through the dense foliage, the tension between you, your father, and yoongi was palpable. the weight of your father's unexpected reappearance, coupled with the sense of betrayal, made each step heavy with unresolved emotions. the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the path, illuminating the scene in an eerie, almost ethereal light. breaking the silence, you finally asked, “how did you know i’d find you?”

your father’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression filled with a mixture of pride and affection. “you're my daughter,” he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. “the only one i have. i never doubted you. i always knew you’d find your way.” his words were a balm to your wounded heart, but they also served to deepen the confusion and sorrow swirling within you. you turned your gaze to yoongi, whose face was illuminated by the moonlight, the tear streaks on his cheeks glistening like silver trails in the dim light. his eyes met yours with a mixture of regret and longing, and the intensity of his emotions was almost palpable.

your father’s voice cut through the silence once more. “are you dating him?” he asked, his tone casual yet probing. the question hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound was the rustling of leaves and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. you didn’t respond, the silence stretching into an uncomfortable pause. with a light-hearted chuckle, your father continued, “well, if you are, you have my approval.”

the words, though intended to be reassuring, did little to ease the tension. you remained focused on yoongi, whose silence spoke volumes. the complexity of your relationship with him, mixed with the recent revelations, made any further conversation feel almost impossible.

as you pressed on, you suddenly stumbled across a cave partially submerged in the water. the sight halted you in your tracks, the dim light of the moon reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, casting a shimmering glow on the entrance of the cave. you paused, your heart pounding with anticipation and trepidation. yoongi’s voice broke the silence, filled with apprehension. “is this a dead end?”

you turned to him, a determined glint in your eye. “only if you want it to be,” you replied, your voice steady and resolute. without further hesitation, you stepped into the water, the coldness biting at your skin as you waded deeper.

your father shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of resignation and concern. “i won’t make it down there,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. he turned to yoongi, his eyes serious. “take care of her.” the weight of his words settled heavily on yoongi’s shoulders. he nodded, his gaze never leaving you as you continued into the water. the cave entrance loomed ahead, its dark mouth beckoning with a promise of what lay beyond.

you glanced back at him, who gave you a reassuring nod before following you into the water. the chill of the water contrasted sharply with the heat of the jungle, and each step forward felt like a step closer to both resolution and revelation. as you entered the cave, the water rose to your chest, then your neck, and you finally took a deep breath as you submerged, guiding yourself into the unknown depths. the cave, shrouded in darkness, seemed to swallow you up as you swam forward, the sound of your movements echoing off the stone walls. the air was thick with the dampness of the underground world, and the only light came from the faint glow of the moon that seeped in through the entrance.

yoongi’s eyes darted to a narrow, submerged entrance in the cave, partially obscured by the swirling water. he pointed it out to you, his voice strained but determined. “there,” he said, the water dripping from his face and mixing with the sweat of exertion. “that’s our way through.” with a nod, you both dove into the water, the cold embrace momentarily startling you but quickly overshadowed by the urgency of the moment. the underwater passage was cramped, the water pressing against you as you swam with quick, determined strokes. your breaths were short and hurried, the cave’s darkness enveloping you completely.

the tunnel seemed endless, but eventually, you felt your feet touch solid ground. you surfaced, gasping for air, and took in the dimly lit cave around you. the cave's ceiling arched high above, its jagged edges silhouetted against the faint light that filtered through the entrance behind you. the air was cooler there, and the sound of dripping water echoed softly, a rhythmic accompaniment to the anxious beats of your heart.

in front of you was a sheer drop, with a gap leading to another patch of land on the other side. the jump required looked daunting, and the void between you and safety seemed to stretch endlessly. the sight made your heart race with a mix of fear and doubt.

yoongi squeezed your hand, his gaze steady and unwavering. “i know you hate me right now,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “but i need you to know that i love you.” the intensity of his words took you aback. despite the betrayal that still stung, you could feel the sincerity in his voice, and the confession seemed to bridge a chasm of its own. “i love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

with a sudden, determined grin, yoongi stepped back, bracing himself. without further hesitation, he took a running leap and soared over the gap. the space seemed to hold its breath as he landed on the other side with a solid thud, his form illuminated briefly by the moonlight. your fear spiked, but his encouraging smile reassured you. “i’ll help you up,” he called, his voice echoing back to you.

you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the jump. with a final glance at yoongi’s outstretched hand, you leaped across the void, your heart pounding in your chest. his hands caught yours with a firm grip, and he helped you scramble up to his side. relief flooded through you as you stood on solid ground once more.

as you both entered the water again, the cold of the underground lake was a sharp contrast to the warmth of your fear-induced sweat. you swam through the dark water, the only sound being the echo of your strokes and the distant, intermittent drip of water. reaching the opposite shore, you were greeted by an oppressive darkness. the cave was pitch black, and the vast emptiness before you seemed to absorb any hint of light. you turned to him, voicing your concern. “it might actually be a dead end,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration.

he shook his head, refusing to give in to despair. “i don’t believe it,” he said firmly. he paused, the realization dawning on him. “he who is under the moon needs not light to see the gold,” he recalled, his face lighting up with sudden comprehension. “needs not light to see.”

your heart skipped a beat as you reached for your backpack, pulling out the waterproof flares you had packed. “three flares,” you said, glancing at him. “twenty minutes each. one hour.” yoongi nodded, his expression determined. “we’ll use them to explore.”

you struck the first flare, the brilliant orange light cutting through the impenetrable darkness. the cavern in front of you came alive with a sudden, warm glow, revealing intricate patterns etched into the stone. the illuminated symbols seemed to beckon you forward, their shapes dancing in the flare’s light as if guiding you deeper into the cave’s heart. the sight was both mesmerizing and exhilarating. the path ahead was illuminated, leading you further into the cave. you and yoongi exchanged a look of resolute determination before plunging into the illuminated darkness, the flares lighting the way to whatever lay hidden in the depths.

the flare’s light carved a path through the dense darkness, guiding you and yoongi deeper into the cave. with each step, the cavern walls seemed to pulse with a golden glow, hinting at the marvel that lay beyond. as you rounded a final bend, the flare’s illumination suddenly gave way to an awe-inspiring spectacle.

you both froze, your breath catching in your throats as the room came into full view. the cavern stretched out before you, a vast, breathtaking expanse of shimmering gold. the walls, ceiling, and floor were encrusted with gold, every crack and crevice glistening with a rich, golden hue. the light from the flare reflected off the gold, casting dazzling patterns across the cavern's surface and creating an ethereal glow that made the entire room seem to pulse with life.

the sight was nothing short of magnificent. you felt as though you had stumbled upon a forgotten world, a treasure trove of immense beauty and unimaginable wealth. gold hung from every corner, cascading in delicate strands, and the floor was scattered with golden relics and artifacts, each one telling a story of a bygone era. yoongi's hand tightened around yours as he pulled you gently into the heart of the cavern.

his eyes, wide with disbelief and wonder, met yours. with a joyous smile, he leaned in and planted a tender, congratulatory kiss on your cheek. “we did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride and relief. the words hung in the air between you as you both took in the sheer splendor of the room. it was as if you were standing in the very heart of a legend come to life, the stories and myths you had heard becoming tangible reality. the gold seemed to sing with a history long forgotten, and the room itself felt like a living testament to an age of grandeur.

you moved towards the piles of gold scattered around, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the cavern. yoongi helped you fill your bags with chunks of raw gold, the weight of the precious metal a satisfying burden. each piece you picked up seemed to hold a piece of the cavern’s magic, and the act of collecting it felt like a ritual of its own. as you both worked, you took moments to pause and admire the room once more. the golden light played on your faces, highlighting the awe and wonder in your eyes. It was a place where history and legend had merged into something tangible and breathtaking, a reality that far surpassed any story ever told.

once your bags were filled to the brim with gold, you paused to take one final look at the cavern. the scene before you was so stunningly beautiful that it was almost surreal. you knew you would carry this image with you forever—the shimmering gold, the sense of triumph, and the shared wonder of discovering something so extraordinary. with a final, lingering glance at the cavern, you and yoongi began your journey back. the return trip was a mix of careful navigation and unspoken understanding, both of you focused on retracing your steps through the dark, illuminated only by the faint, dwindling glow of the flares.

emerging from the cave, you were greeted by the cool, crisp air of dawn. the first light of morning kissed the horizon with a soft, golden glow, a stark contrast to the dark, glittering realm you had just left behind. you and yoongi stood at the cave’s entrance, the early light painting a serene picture after the chaos you had endured. overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment and the relief of having succeeded, you turned to yoongi and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. it was a moment of pure, unguarded emotion—a celebration of your shared victory and the bond you had forged.

but the peace was shattered abruptly. a gunshot rang out, echoing through the tranquil morning. the bullet struck the tree above you, the sharp crack splitting the air and causing you both to jerk in surprise. you spun around, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you.

standing there, calm and menacing, was your father. his eyes, once filled with warmth and encouragement, were now shadowed with a mixture of resignation and fear. the most chilling aspect, however, was the gun pressed firmly against his temple. your breath caught in your throat, your relief swiftly morphing into dread.

“i knew you would find it.” the words hung in the air, each one a knife twisting into your heart.

yoongi’s arms instinctively moved to shield you, his protective presence a stark contrast to the danger that now surrounded you. the world seemed to shrink to just the three of them—yoongi, your father, and jungkook, who had guided you there, now at gunpoint.

your father shook his head sadly, the gun still pressed to his head. he spoke softly, trying to convey his message despite the dire circumstances. “it isn’t worth it,” he said, his voice trembling. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. jungkook was not just any adversary; he was the one behind the failed museum heist, the reason why the break-in was discarded, the one who had been after the same treasure you sought. everything fell into place—the clues, the tension, and now, this horrifying confrontation.

desperation surged through you. “drop the gun,” you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. “leave my father be.”

to your astonishment, jungkook momentarily lowered the gun, a fleeting hope flickering in your chest. but it was quickly extinguished when he aimed the gun back at you. “you’re right,” he said with a chilling calmness, “you’re the one i should be shooting.”

yoongi’s grip on you tightened, his body a shield against the threat. jungkook’s gun shifted to target him instead. “don’t be a hero,” he ordered, his voice icy and unyielding.

tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart breaking at the sight of the man you loved being placed in such danger. you leaned into yoongi’s embrace, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m so sorry,” you choked out, the weight of your apology heavy with the knowledge of the peril you had brought upon him.

yoongi’s eyes were filled with an intense, unwavering love. “i love you,” he said fiercely, “and no amount of gold could ever compare to you.” his words were both a comfort and a heart-wrenching reminder of what was at stake. he held you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. the love in his eyes was unwavering even in the face of imminent danger. you turned to your father, whose eyes were full of regret and sorrow. he met your gaze with an apologetic smile, and you saw him mouth an “i love you.” the sight made your heart ache, the final, heart-wrenching goodbye unspoken but deeply felt.

a scream rose in your throat, but before you could utter it, the scene unfolded in a blur. your father lunged at jungkook, his actions fueled by a mix of desperation and bravery. the two of them collided, struggling fiercely. the struggle was chaotic, and in the turmoil, they both tumbled over the edge of the cliff.

you watched in horror as they fell, your father’s figure disappearing from view. the sound of their impact was muffled by the distance, but the sight of their lifeless forms on the ground below was clear. the sight of their bodies, unmoving and broken, left a raw, aching void in your chest.

yoongi wrapped his arms around you, his own tears mingling with yours as you both stood there, grief-stricken and devastated. his embrace was the only thing grounding you as you both wept. the cavern, the treasure, and the journey seemed insignificant compared to the unbearable weight of loss that now pressed upon you. in the cold light of the morning, the world felt empty, hollow. the triumph of your discovery was overshadowed by the profound sorrow of your father’s death and the jungkook's betrayal. yoongi’s presence was a small comfort in the midst of the overwhelming grief, his strength and support a beacon in the darkness of your loss.

the journey back was a somber one. as you and yoongi made your way through the tangled undergrowth, the golden dawn now a distant memory, you both climbed into the small boat you had left tethered by the shore. the morning’s light was gentle, casting a muted glow over the rippling water. the boat’s wooden frame creaked under the weight of your sadness and the burden of the gold you had decided to leave behind.

yoongi’s touch was gentle, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder as you sat side by side. the silence between you was profound, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the distant sounds of nature—the lapping of the water against the boat, the chirping of birds—seemed almost foreign against the backdrop of your grief.

as the boat glided over the shimmering surface, yoongi reached into his bag and pulled out a small, glistening piece of gold. His fingers were deft as he used a small tool to carefully engrave your father’s name into the metal. the delicate scratch of the tool against the gold was the only sound that marked this poignant moment. his movements were meticulous, his concentration evident as he worked with steady hands.

when he was finished, he held up the gold piece for you to see. “this is for him,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. with a heavy heart, you watched as yoongi released the engraved gold into the water. it sank slowly, disappearing beneath the surface, leaving ripples in its wake. you clung to him, the weight of your loss pressing heavily on your chest.

the boat journey seemed endless, each wave a reminder of the pain you carried. the hours passed in silence, the water reflecting the sky’s changing colors as the day progressed. when you finally reached the shore, the sight of the city brought a mix of relief and apprehension.

the moment you set foot on solid ground, the press was there, waiting for you. the bright flashes of cameras and the clamor of questions assaulted you. “why did you disappear?” one journalist asked. “did you have anything to do with the museum break-in?” another queried.

yoongi stood protectively beside you, his presence a steadying force as you fielded the questions. “we were on an expedition,” you managed to say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “we discovered something significant, but the details are still being finalized.” the press thronged around you, but yoongi guided you through the crowd and into the waiting car. the drive back to the penthouse was a blur, the cityscape slipping past the window in muted colors. when you arrived, the penthouse was an unexpected haven of calm.

inside, the weight of the world seemed to lift slightly. you sank into bed, yoongi’s arms wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. the events of the past days felt like a distant dream, and the victory you had once celebrated now seemed bittersweet. he held you close, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m so proud of you,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. “you did it.”

in the quiet of the night, as you lay beside him, you whispered, “i did it.” the victory felt hollow against the backdrop of loss, but yoongi’s presence was a balm to your wounded heart. you felt a flicker of hope amid the sadness.

the next day was a whirlwind of ceremony and celebration. the city honored your discovery with a grand ceremony held in your names. the venue was adorned with gold accents, a tribute to the treasure you had uncovered. as you and yoongi stood on the stage, the applause and cheers from the crowd felt distant and surreal. the ceremony was a testament to your achievement, but the joy was tempered by the sorrow of your recent loss.

later, in the quiet of your kitchen, you found a moment of peace. yoongi leaned against the counter, watching you with a curious smile. “what are you making?” he asked, his tone light. you looked up from your work, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “you fulfilled your promise,” you said, placing a cup of affogato in front of him. “now it’s my turn to fulfill mine.”

hia eyes softened as he took in the gesture, the warmth of the moment soothing the lingering ache in your heart. he took a sip, his expression one of contentment. as you joined him, the kitchen became a sanctuary—a place where the echoes of the past week could be put aside, if only for a moment, to savor the present and the future you were beginning to build together.

✧.*

a/n: ok outer banks crossover!!! i was gonna kill yoongi off ngl

a little older (더 나이든) — min yoongi (민 윤기)

✧.* 18+

building a life of your own was supposed to be the most important thing, a sacred endeavor carved out of dreams and determination. it was meant to be a testament to resilience, a collection of moments carefully stacked like cards, each one representing a triumph, a choice, a whispered hope. every decision, every relationship, every step forward was like placing a new card on the fragile structure—delicate, yet full of potential. there was an elegance in the construction, a beauty in the precariousness, as each layer rose higher, promising a future that was uniquely yours.

the foundation was always more fragile than it seemed. life, with all its unpredictable twists, was like a breath of wind, capable of unsettling even the sturdiest of foundations. the careful balance, once so meticulously maintained, could be disrupted by a single misstep, a fleeting moment of imbalance. and when it happened—when that one card faltered—it was as if time slowed, the world held its breath, and the house of cards began to tremble. in an instant, everything you had built with such care, such hope, began to collapse. the cards fell, one by one, in a cascading rush of loss. it wasn’t just the physical manifestations of your efforts that crumbled; it was the dreams, the aspirations, the very essence of what you had imagined your life could be. the crash was both silent and deafening, a paradox of destruction that left you standing in the aftermath, surrounded by the scattered remnants of what once was.

in those moments, it became clear that the life you had built, so painstakingly and with such love, was never as invincible as you had believed. it was delicate, ephemeral, a structure of possibilities rather than certainties. and now, with the cards lying in disarray around you, the realization settled in—building a life of your own was not just about the construction, but about the constant balance, the vigilance, the understanding that everything could be lost in a heartbeat. the house of cards was beautiful while it stood, but it was a fragile beauty, one that required more than just ambition to sustain—it demanded a deep awareness of its own impermanence.

the gentle hum of rome surrounded you like a comforting embrace, the city's timeless charm intertwining with the luxurious life you had carefully crafted for yourself. the cobblestone streets underfoot, the scent of freshly brewed espresso wafting through the air, and the vibrant murmur of voices from nearby tables—all were part of the life you had come to know and love. it was a life of indulgence, of quiet moments in quaint coffee shops between photoshoots, where you could savor the richness of your success, the delicate balance of beauty and fame that you had so skillfully maintained.

your phone vibrated softly on the marble tabletop, interrupting your thoughts. the screen flashed with the name of your manager, a reminder of the world that existed just beyond this fleeting moment of peace. you took a slow sip of your coffee before answering, already knowing the conversation that was about to unfold. “why won't you be able to make the shoot in milan?” her voice, usually calm and composed, carried a note of urgency, of disappointment that you could almost feel through the line.

you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the decision you had already made. “i gotta go back to daegu,” you began, choosing your words carefully as you gazed out at the bustling street, the vibrant life that you had temporarily claimed as your own. “i was enjoying some time off between shoots, but i have to go back. my mother called. she wants to get the family together.”

there was a brief pause on the other end of the line, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you. then, your manager exhaled, the disappointment in her voice palpable as she responded. “i'm disappointed. you know how important this shoot is, how much it could mean for your career. but i understand—family comes first.” you ended the call with a simple, “i'll be in touch,” the finality of the words echoing in your mind long after the call had disconnected. the weight of her disappointment hung over you like a shadow, mingling with your own. you were disappointed, too—disappointed that your carefully constructed life, the life you had fought so hard to create, was once again being pulled away by forces you couldn’t control.

the last thing you wanted was to spend a month in daegu, surrounded by your family and whoever else your mother decided to invite into your life. you had built something here, something that was yours alone. the glitz and glamour of the modeling world were more than just a career—they were your escape, your sanctuary from the past you had left behind. the riches, the fame, the adoration of the media—they were all a part of the life you had chosen, a life that felt worlds apart from the one that awaited you back home.

your father had always been supportive, his pride in your achievements a quiet but constant presence in your life. but your mother, your mother was another story. she had never truly understood the life you had built, never missed an opportunity to remind you of the family you had left behind, the obligations she believed you were neglecting. she was too emotional, too needy, always quick to turn to you with her problems, her fears, using you as her therapist when all you wanted was to be her daughter. it was a role you had never wanted, a burden you had never asked for, and one that had driven a deep wedge between the two of you.

as you sat in the coffee shop, the realization settled in with a dull ache—you didn’t want to go back. not now, not ever. the life you had built was there, in those moments of quiet luxury, in the thrill of the spotlight, in the knowledge that you were beautiful and that the world loved you for it. the idea of returning to daegu, to the suffocating expectations of family, was almost unbearable.

and yet, there you were, about to board a plane back to the place you had spent so many years trying to escape. you knew that once you were there, the walls you had so carefully constructed around yourself would start to crumble, brick by brick, as your mother’s words chipped away at the confidence you had so painstakingly built. but for now, you let yourself savor the last of your trip. you let the warmth of the roman sun wash over you, let the taste of rich coffee linger on your tongue, let the sound of the city’s heartbeat fill your ears. you allowed yourself this final moment of peace, a small luxury before the storm that awaited you back home.

the airport was a sea of hurried footsteps and murmured conversations, a place of constant motion and transient connections. the lights overhead were bright, almost glaring, casting a harsh glow on the polished floors and sleek, modern architecture. you walked through the bustling terminal with your head down, the brim of your hat casting a shadow over your face. the hat was slightly too big, the edges brushing against your sunglasses, but it was a necessary discomfort. you knew the hat and shades might draw attention, might make people look twice, but it was a risk you were willing to take. you couldn’t afford to be recognized tonight—not when the weight of the decision to return to daegu was already pressing down on you.

the noise of the terminal was a constant hum in your ears, a backdrop of lives intersecting and parting ways. you moved with purpose, but each step felt heavy, as if the gravity of what awaited you back home was pulling you down. the bustling crowd gave you a sense of anonymity, a comfort in the chaos, but there was always the underlying fear—what if someone recognized you? what if a single glance, a moment of misplaced attention, shattered the fragile anonymity you clung to?

you reached the gate, the final checkpoint before you could slip into the relative safety of the plane. the lady at the gate, dressed in a crisp uniform, greeted you with a professional smile, her eyes scanning you briefly before she spoke. “ticket, please.” you handed it over, your fingers brushing against the smooth paper, and you watched as she glanced at it, her expression unchanged until her eyes fell on your name. the realization dawned in her eyes, a flicker of recognition that quickly blossomed into a wide smile.

her voice dropped to a near whisper, a mix of awe and excitement as she spoke again, her tone more personal now. “are you in first class?” you nodded, a small, polite gesture, before affirming softly, “yes, i am.” her fingers trembled slightly as she checked the ticket, the formalities of her job momentarily forgotten as she glanced back up at you. the admiration in her eyes was unmistakable, a look you had seen a thousand times before, but one that still made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“i’m such a big fan,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “would you mind—?” she trailed off, pulling out a poster she had tucked away—a poster of you, one from a recent campaign, your face smiling back at you with a confidence you didn’t quite feel in this moment. you forced a smile, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you replied, “of course.” you took the pen she offered, your hand moving almost automatically as you signed your name, the signature that had become so familiar to you, yet felt so alien in moments like this. the pen scratched lightly against the glossy paper, the sound almost lost in the noise of the terminal, but to you, it felt deafening. when you finished, you handed the poster back to her, your smile still in place despite the churning in your stomach.

“thank you so much,” she gushed, her voice barely above a whisper now, as if she were afraid to break the spell. “i hope you have a safe flight.” you nodded again, murmuring your thanks as you took your ticket back, slipping it into your bag with hands that felt too heavy, too cumbersome. the brief encounter had left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that only the public eye could make you feel. as you walked away, towards the plane that would take you back to a life you weren’t ready to face, you kept your head low, your hat pulled down just a little further, your sunglasses pressed tightly to your face.

the publicity was suffocating, a constant reminder of the life you had chosen, a life that came with its own set of rules and expectations. there were moments, fleeting but persistent, when all you wanted was a normal life—one where you could walk through an airport without being recognized, where you could board a plane without the weight of fame pressing down on your shoulders. but that life wasn’t yours to live, not anymore. so you kept your shades on, the brim of your hat shielding you from the world as you made your way to the gate, your steps quickening as you neared the entrance to the plane. you handed your ticket to the flight attendant, her smile professional and warm, and without a word, you slipped past her and into the sanctuary of first class. you found your seat and settled in, sinking into the plush leather with a sigh that was more of resignation than relief.

daegu’s air felt different the moment you stepped off the plane. the warm breeze carried with it the scent of familiarity—of home, of memories both cherished and forgotten. you moved through the terminal with a practiced ease, gathering your luggage as if in a trance. the sleek, designer suitcases were a stark contrast to the airport’s simple decor, a reminder of the life you had built away from here.

once you had everything in hand, you made your way out of the airport, your hat still pulled low over your face, your sunglasses firmly in place. the crowds here were less intense, less likely to recognize you, but you weren’t taking any chances. it was better to remain hidden until you were safely out of public view. you stepped out into the open air, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement, and you quickly hailed a cab.

the driver—a man in his mid-fifties with a kind, weathered face—didn’t say much as you slid into the back seat. you gave him the address, and he nodded, pulling away from the curb without a word. the silence was a gift, and you found yourself grateful for it. the drive through daegu’s familiar streets was oddly comforting, the buildings and landscapes bringing back a flood of memories, some pleasant, others less so.

as the car approached your childhood home, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. you tipped the driver a bit extra as a silent thank you for the uninterrupted journey, and he accepted it with a small, appreciative nod. only when you were certain you were out of sight did you finally remove your sunglasses and hat, letting the cool air of the evening touch your face. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping out of the cab.

the sight that greeted you was unexpected—your parents stood in front of the house, their faces alight with joy, and a small group of people you didn’t recognize clustered around them. there was a makeshift cookout in the yard, the smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filling the air. it was a welcome-home celebration, one that should have made you feel warm inside, but instead, it only heightened your unease.

your father was the first to approach, his arms open wide. he was a strong, silent man, not one for overt displays of affection, but in this moment, he wrapped you in a hug that spoke volumes. you allowed yourself to sink into the embrace, feeling a flicker of genuine warmth. when he released you, you noticed your mother standing off to the side, her expression slightly pinched, as if disappointed that she hadn’t been the first to greet you. still, you turned to her with a smile, pulling her into a hug. her embrace was firmer, more scrutinizing, as if she were searching for something. “you’ve gotten thinner,” she remarked, pulling back to look at you, her tone half-critical, half-concerned.

you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, brushing off her comment. “that’s part of my job, mom.”  your father’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he added, “and you’ve gotten prettier, too.” he smiled as he stroked your hair, a gesture that felt both tender and grounding.

“i’ve missed you both,” you said, the words slipping out before you could fully process them. they felt genuine, though, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the comfort of this reunion. but the moment was fleeting, your eyes drifting to the unfamiliar faces in the yard. “who are all these people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and slight irritation—from your voice.

your father gestured towards the group, his tone casual as he began introducing you to each of them. “these are some family friends. they’re only here for the day, but one of them will be staying for the month.” you smiled and nodded politely as each person was introduced, some of them expressing admiration for your work. you’d gotten used to it—meeting people who knew you before you knew them—but it didn’t make the encounters any less awkward.

“who’s the one staying?” you asked your father, trying to mask the apprehension in your voice. he chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “you know him very well.”

you frowned, confusion knitting your brow. “what do you mean by that?” your father didn’t answer directly. instead, he simply gestured to a man walking toward you from the other side of the yard. you turned to look, your breath catching slightly as you took in his appearance. he was handsome, undeniably so, with a soft smile on his lips and a calm, confident way of moving. there was something familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place it.

as he approached, his smile widened. “no, this can’t be (y/n),” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. for a moment, all you could think was how striking he was, and how frustrating it was that you couldn’t remember who he was. your father beamed with pride, his gaze flickering between you and the man. “she’s pretty, isn’t she?” he asked, his voice full of paternal affection.

the man nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “gorgeous,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. there was a pause before he added, “do you remember me?” you searched his face, trying to dig through the layers of your memory, but nothing came to mind. with a reluctant shake of your head, you admitted, “i’m sorry, but no.”

your father laughed, a deep, hearty sound that rumbled through the air. “this is yoongi. he used to come over all the time to take care of you when you were younger and home alone.” your eyes widened in recognition, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. “yoongi?” you echoed, incredulity coloring your voice.

he nodded, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i’ve changed a bit, haven’t i?” you laughed nervously, still processing the transformation before you. “only in the best way,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

yoongi shrugged, the smile on his face turning a bit wry. “that’s what divorce does.” you blinked in surprise, the revelation catching you off guard. “you, you divorced miss jeon?”

he nodded, his expression calm, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “yeah. it was for the best, though.” you shook your head slightly, still reeling from the news. miss jeon had been such a constant presence in your life, always there to help out, to cook meals when your parents were busy. the idea of her and yoongi no longer being together felt strange, almost surreal. sensing your shock, yoongi gave you a reassuring look. “don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “it was the best outcome for both of us.”

you nodded slowly, still absorbing the information. “it’s just hard to believe.” he smiled again, this time a bit more softly. “i know. but it’s good to see you again.” he paused, stepping forward to envelop you in a warm hug, his arms strong and comforting. as he pulled back, he added with a teasing glint in his eye, “and don’t worry—you’ll be seeing a lot more of me for the next month.” you managed a smile in return, though your mind was still spinning with the unexpected turn of events.

yoongi had changed significantly, to your shock. it seemed to make your father chuckle, his amusement evident at your reaction, but it wasn't temporary shock. you found yourself staring at him for a second too long, trying to process how much he had changed. he was handsome, he seemed less stoic than you remembered. he had been taking care of himself, it was evident in the way his skin shined under the sunlight and how his muscles flexed in his shirt that was just, maybe, a little too tight. you had remembered him as skinny, borderline bland, but he took good care of you while he had to. he looked amazing for his age, even though he wasn't too older than you.

his mine had chosen to run wild, too. he was aware that you were no longer the little girl he watched over with his ex-wife. you had changed, blossomed into a woman. he knew it beforehand, when you had started working. as much as you were a global hit, you were a national star just as much, if not more. he had seen the photos, the interviews, the shoots. the first time he saw them, your father had showed them to him with a proud smile on his face that seemed to clash with yoongi's shock. it wasn't negative in the slightest, he simply couldn't believe how bold and beautiful you had gotten. seeing you in person made all the difference, you were even prettier in person.

the hot water cascaded over your skin, the steady stream washing away the lingering tension of the day. you stood under the showerhead, eyes closed, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, relaxing the knots that had formed from the journey and the unexpected reunion. the steam filled the small bathroom, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of heat and humidity. the scent of the lavender-scented body wash mingled with the steam, creating an almost meditative atmosphere. there, in the quiet, steamy space, the world outside felt distant, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be fully present, savoring the solitude.

but as you turned off the water and reached for a towel, your hand met only empty space. panic sparked in your chest as you realized you had forgotten to bring one with you. the heat from the shower quickly dissipated, leaving your skin to prickle with the chill of the air. you glanced around the bathroom, hoping to find a spare towel or anything to cover yourself with, but there was nothing.

resigned, you wrapped your arms around yourself as best as you could, trying to cover your body as you opened the bathroom door just a crack. the house was quiet, the murmur of conversation from the yard barely audible through the walls. it was late, and most of the guests had left. you took a deep breath, assuring yourself that everyone else was either outside or already settled in for the night. the coast was clear. you stepped out into the hallway, your bare feet making no sound on the cool wooden floor. with your hands still clutched to your chest, you hurried towards your room, your steps quick and silent. the soft hum of the house was the only sound accompanying you, and you felt a small sense of relief as you neared the safety of your door.

but as you rounded the corner, your breath caught in your throat. standing in the hallway, just a few feet away, was yoongi. He froze, his eyes wide with surprise as they locked onto yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, the shock of the situation rooting you both in place. yoongi’s gaze traveled down, his eyes widening further as he took in the sight of you—damp, vulnerable, and very much exposed. you saw the moment he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping back up to your face, filled with a mix of apology and something you couldn’t quite place. his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. he seemed to be struggling with himself, as if trying to force his eyes away, but they lingered just a second too long before he finally managed to turn his head, averting his gaze.

your heart pounded in your chest, embarrassment flooding your system as you clutched the clothes in your hands to your body, trying to cover as much of yourself as possible. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “i forgot to bring a towel.” he shook his head quickly, his back still turned to you, his voice strained as he replied, “no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have looked. i didn’t mean to—i wasn’t trying to—” his words trailed off awkwardly, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he gestured vaguely for you to return to the bathroom. “just go back. i won’t look.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. with your heart still racing, you turned on your heel and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. leaning against the cool tile, you let out a shaky breath, your skin tingling from both the chill and the residual heat of the shower. the image of his face, the way he had looked at you, flashed through your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat up in a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

meanwhile, yoongi stood in the hallway, cursing himself silently. he had seen you grow up, watched you transform from the little girl he used to babysit into the stunning woman you were now. but that didn’t give him the right to look at you like that, to let his gaze linger when he knew he should have looked away. you were his friend’s daughter, and he was supposed to be here to support you, not ogle you like some kind of creep. he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel the image of you that was now seared into his mind—the way your wet hair clung to your neck, the water droplets that had trailed down your skin, the way you had looked at him with those wide, startled eyes. he had to have some restraint. he couldn’t afford to lose control, not there, not now.

on the other side of the door, you were having similar thoughts. you couldn’t believe you had been so careless, so oblivious to the possibility that someone might see you. the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, or worse, to leave him with a bad impression of you. you had always respected him, admired him even, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had ruined everything with one careless mistake. as you slowly dressed, your hands still trembling slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect the next few weeks. you would be seeing a lot more of him, and the thought of facing him after what had just happened filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

dinner that evening was quiet, the usual hum of the house interrupted only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain and the soft murmurs of conversation. the long wooden table, covered with a simple white cloth, held the comforting spread of homemade dishes—steamed vegetables, grilled meats, and a bowl of steaming rice, all of which your mother had prepared with care. you had slipped into the kitchen earlier, wordlessly assisting her in setting the table and serving the food. she had smiled at you, her face softening with an expression you hadn’t seen in years. “thank you for helping,” she had said, her voice tinged with a quiet appreciation that made you pause. you had simply nodded in return, trying to ignore the strange twist in your chest.

as you walked into the dining room, you couldn’t help but notice yoongi seated at the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, as if he were silently observing everything around him. you caught his gaze for the briefest moment, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were dark, reflecting the soft light of the room, and when he looked at you, it felt as though he could see right through you. flustered, you quickly looked away, busying yourself with placing the last of the dishes on the table. your mother noticed the faint pink on your cheeks but said nothing, though a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“you look beautiful in that dress,” yoongi said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the comfortable silence. You froze for a moment, the compliment catching you off guard. the white dress was simple, something you had thrown on without much thought, but the way he said it made it feel like a grand gesture.

“yes, it really suits you,” your mother added, her tone bright. she was beaming at you, clearly pleased that someone had noticed. you forced a smile, your hands twisting the fabric of your dress nervously. you could feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and when you finally looked up, he was smiling at you—not just a polite smile, but something warmer, softer, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you tried to smile back, but your lips wobbled with the effort.

you took your seat, feeling his presence beside you like a tangible force, even though he was seated across the table. your father, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, began to ask you about your recent time in italy. “how was it?” he inquired, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

you paused, gathering your thoughts, and then answered, “i indulged in three things in italy—writing, wine, and men.” the words slipped out with a playful lilt, intended to tease, and the room erupted in laughter. your father chuckled, your mother giggled, and even some of the guests offered polite laughs. but yoongi’s reaction was different. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and there was something stiff about the way he forced it onto his face. you caught the change in his expression and quickly looked away, but the image of his tight-lipped smile lingered in your mind. the thought of you—his little princess, as he had once affectionately called you—indulging in men made his stomach churn. he couldn’t reconcile the image of the young girl he had known with the woman sitting before him now.

“did you find a boyfriend?” your mother asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes. the question was laced with expectation, but you shook your head, dismissing the idea. “no, i don’t have time for that,” you replied, waving off the notion with a flick of your hand. the truth was, the thought of settling down, of committing to someone, felt suffocating, especially when your life was a whirlwind of photoshoots and travel. you enjoyed the company, the fleeting connections, but nothing more.

your father nodded thoughtfully and asked about your writing, his voice full of encouragement. “and your writing? how’s that going?” you hesitated for a moment, thinking about the journals and notes you had scribbled away during your time abroad. “i’ve done some dabbling here and there,” you admitted, keeping your tone light. you knew your father was proud of your creativity, always encouraging you to express yourself. but the truth was that the words you had written were a reflection of your darkest thoughts, the sides of yourself you kept hidden from the world. they were pieces of you that you had no intention of sharing.

“you should show us sometime,” he suggested, smiling warmly at you. you nodded, knowing full well that you never would. those words were yours alone, a private sanctuary in a life that was otherwise so public. as dinner wound down, the conversation grew quieter, the energy of the evening mellowing out. the food was nearly finished, and you pushed your plate aside, offering to help your mother clear the table. “i’ll do it,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather the empty plates.

“i’ll help,” yoongi offered, standing up almost immediately, his hands reaching for the dishes as well. you glanced at him, surprised by his sudden eagerness, but you didn’t refuse. together, the two of you worked in silence, clearing the table and bringing the dishes into the kitchen. the room was warm, filled with the lingering smells of the meal, and the only sound was the soft clinking of dishes being stacked.

as you reached for the same plate, your fingers brushed against his. the touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through your system, your breath catching in your throat. you looked up, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. his expression softened, something unreadable in his gaze, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks. you both pulled your hands away quickly, embarrassed by the unintended contact. “sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you focused on the dishes. “no, it’s fine,” yoongi replied, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there. he paused, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply turned away, continuing to clear the table.

the house had quieted down after dinner, the lingering smells of the meal now replaced with the comforting scent of night. you had helped your mother finish up in the kitchen, and after a few more polite exchanges with the guests, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from the long journey. your mother had given you a gentle, knowing smile, and your father had patted your shoulder, telling you to rest well. but even as you ascended the stairs, the house settling into a comfortable stillness, your thoughts were far from calm.

in your room, you began your nightly routine, each action methodical and deliberate, as if going through the motions might settle the unease in your chest. you pulled on a shirt—a soft, oversized one that hung loosely on your frame, the hem brushing against the tops of your thighs. it was one of those shirts that felt like a second skin, comforting in its familiarity. you paired it with a simple set of panties, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. the choice was practical, a blend of comfort and modesty, yet there was something almost intimate about it, a reminder of the solitude of the night.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror, the reflection showing a woman who should have been ready for sleep. but instead, your thoughts were restless, wandering to places you couldn’t quite control. you climbed into bed, the cool sheets welcoming against your warm skin, but the moment your head hit the pillow, you knew sleep would not come easily. there was something tugging at you, an inexplicable pull that you couldn’t ignore. it started as a whisper at the back of your mind, an insistent urge that grew louder with each passing moment. you told yourself it was foolish, that you should simply close your eyes and rest, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became.

before you knew it, you were slipping out of bed, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as you made your way out of your room. the house was dark, save for the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, casting long, pale shadows along the hallway. you moved quietly, the soft rustling of your shirt the only sound as you padded down the corridor, your heart beating steadily in your chest. you paused outside yoongi’s room, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the hall. you could hear him inside, the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet sound of his movements. you knew you shouldn’t be here, that you should turn around and go back to bed, but something kept you rooted to the spot.

you peered through the gap in the door, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you. yoongi was standing by the bed, his back to you, shirtless. his skin was pale, almost glowing in the soft light, his muscles defined yet subtle, the kind of physique that spoke of quiet strength. his shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist, and as he reached for a shirt, you couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps flexed, the smooth lines of his back. you knew it was wrong to look, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drawn to the way the muscles in his back moved as he pulled the shirt over his head.

it was only when he turned around, his eyes locking with yours, that you realized you had been caught. your breath hitched, a wave of heat flooding your face as you stumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, “i didn’t mean to—” but he just smiled, that familiar, soft smile that you had seen countless times before. it was a smile that was both understanding and amused, as if he found your embarrassment endearing rather than intrusive. “it’s alright,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “you don’t have to apologize.”

you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the awkwardness of the situation, but then you found your voice again. “i just wanted to wish you a good night,” you said, your tone earnest, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. his smile widened, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he replied, “good night to you too.” there was a moment of silence, the air between you thick with something unspoken, and then you nodded, offering him a small, shy smile before turning to leave. as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of it sending a shiver down your spine.

when you returned to your room, the sense of restlessness had faded, replaced by a strange, warm feeling that you couldn’t quite explain. you slipped back into bed, pulling the sheets up around you, but this time, your thoughts were quieter, your mind slowly drifting towards sleep. in the room down the hall, yoongi stood for a moment, his mind replaying the brief exchange. he chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you had grown and changed, to him, you were still that sweet, flustered angel—the same girl he had known all those years ago.

yoongi lay in the oppressive stillness of his room, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions. the darkness enveloped him, offering no comfort, only amplifying the storm within. every attempt to find solace was met with the image of you in that absurdly tight white dress, an image that had seared itself into his consciousness with unforgiving clarity.

the sight of you—no longer the innocent child he once knew but a vision of such tantalizing allure—it was no shock when his hand found its way to his clothed dick, a silent admission of the battle he was losing. he began to stroke himself tentatively, the fabric of his boxers a barrier that only served to heighten the anticipation. his mind was a minefield of guilt and desire, each step he took towards release laden with the weight of his transgressions. he knew he should stop, that he should find some semblance of dignity and self-control, but his body was a traitor, demanding release from the prison of his own making.

his strokes grew more deliberate with his boxers gone, the friction increasing as he thought of what it would be like to touch you, to explore the softness of your skin and the heat that he was sure lay beneath. he bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pleasure, his eyes fixed on the door that separated you from his indecent thoughts. the knowledge that you were so close only served to exacerbate his arousal, making his hand move faster and with more urgency.

his breath hitched as he imagined the moment of penetration, his cock pushing into you, feeling the warmth and wetness that was so alien to his usual solitary rituals. his hand was a poor substitute, but in the quiet of the night, it was all he had. the tension grew, a coil tightening in his balls, and he knew he was close. his thoughts grew more fervent, his strokes more frantic, until finally, with a silent groan, he reached climax.

his hand was sticky with his own release, a reminder of his failure to resist temptation. the guilt washed over him like a cold shower, leaving him trembling and ashamed. he knew he should clean up, should move on from this moment of weakness, but instead he lay there, panting and disgraced, the image of you still etched into his mind's eye. the quiet of the night was now a taunting silence, a reminder that he was alone in his depravity.

you awoke to the soft murmur of the morning light filtering through the curtains, its gentle embrace coaxing you from the depths of sleep. as you stretched languidly, you felt a sense of calm that made you smile. rising from your bed, you ribbed your eyes and padded softly down the stairs. the house was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic ticking of a distant clock. it was a serene morning, perfect for easing into the day.

when you reached the kitchen, yoongi was already there, sitting at the table with a distracted air. his posture was rigid, and there was a certain tension in his demeanor that you couldn’t quite place. the moment you entered the room, his eyes flickered up toward you briefly before darting away. despite his efforts to look elsewhere, his gaze betrayed him, lingering far too long on your bare legs, which were still exposed, to his dismay. “good morning,” you said cheerfully, trying to set a light tone for the day. your voice was like a splash of warmth in the chilly air of the kitchen.

yoongi’s response was almost a whisper, a bare acknowledgment of your greeting. “morning.” you moved toward the coffee maker, the comforting routine of preparing breakfast a welcome distraction. “you want some coffee?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “yeah, that’d be great,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude, though it was laced with an awkwardness that made you wonder about his mood.

as you busied yourself with the coffee, you noticed the kitchen was unusually empty. your parents were absent, a fact that piqued your curiosity. “where are my parents?” you inquired, your voice carrying a note of concern. yoongi shifted slightly, as if the question had pulled him from his own thoughts. “they’re out for the day,” he said, his gaze now firmly fixed on the table, avoiding meeting your eyes.

you nodded, accepting his answer without further question. the rhythmic sound of the coffee machine filled the silence as you went about your task. when you reached for the sugar, you bent over to retrieve it from the cabinet. the movement was casual, a natural part of your routine, but you were acutely aware of yoongi’s intense gaze. the breath caught in his throat was audible, a sharp intake of air that seemed to punctuate the otherwise silent kitchen. he watched the way your shirt rose, faltering just above your hips, giving him a view of your thighs pressed together, ass hanging in the air with nothing but a pair of stupidly red panties adorning your skin.

it struck you then that yoongi’s reaction was more than mere surprise. it was as if he was struggling to maintain composure, as though he thought you were doing this deliberately to tease him. but you weren’t aware of any such intent; it was simply the way you moved. you straightened up with the sugar and continued preparing the coffee. when you finally handed him his cup, his eyes met yours for a fleeting moment. despite the lack of makeup, you felt a surge of confidence in his presence. his eyes softened, and there was a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at his lips as he took the cup from you.

he cleared his throat, his voice tentative as he ventured into a new topic. “so, i’ve been meaning to ask about your writing. you seemed hesitant to talk about it last night.” you chuckled softly, the sound light and airy. “my writing is a product of all my worst parts,” you said with a shrug, attempting to downplay its significance.

yoongi’s eyebrows knitted together, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i don’t believe you have any bad parts,” he said earnestly, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the truth. you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “you’d be surprised,” you replied. “there are things that even the closest people don’t see.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease. you felt a familiar sense of safety in his presence, as if no time had passed since the days when you had felt so secure in his company. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the casual conversation, made you feel as though the world outside had paused just for the two of you.

you prepared for a day by the pool with a casual elegance, slipping into a bikini that showcased your figure with a subtle confidence. over it, you draped a sheer cover—a delicate, airy jacket that fluttered with every movement, its only purpose to add a touch of grace rather than offer any real coverage. the fabric was almost ethereal, catching the sunlight with each step you took, giving you an otherworldly aura.

descending the stairs, you made your way back to the living room, where you spotted yoongi. the moment you entered his line of sight, he looked up, and the breath caught in his throat. his eyes widened, a visible shift in his demeanor as he took in the sight of you. his heart seemed to drop, overwhelmed by the sight of you in your swimwear, the sheer cover highlighting your figure in a way that was both mesmerizing and painfully distracting.

with a cheerful smile, you called out to him, “hey, i’m gonna be by the pool. if you need anything, i’ll be around.” he nodded, his response barely audible, as if his mind was struggling to catch up with the reality of the moment. there was a heavy silence between you, filled with unspoken tension, as you turned and made your way outside.

once by the pool, you settled into a lounge chair, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun envelop you. the heat should have been palpable, but your thoughts were consumed by yoongi. the sun’s rays might have been intense, but they barely registered in your consciousness compared to the whirlwind of thoughts about him. your mind drifted, replaying moments with him, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you.

the quiet of the morning was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. you turned your head, squinting against the sunlight to see yoongi emerging from the house. he was shirtless, the warmth of the sun glistening off his skin. in each hand, he carried a glass—one for him and one for you. you couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of him, the way his physique was revealed in the sunlight adding a new layer of intensity to your already tangled feelings.

he reached you and offered one of the glasses with a slight, nervous smile. “i brought you something to drink. vodka lemonade.” you accepted the glass with a grateful smile, the cool drink a welcome relief from the heat. “thank you,” you said, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste.

he sat down beside you, his own drink in hand. there was a hesitant chuckle in his voice as he remarked, “i can’t believe i’m watching you drink. it’s kind of surreal.” you laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “i’m not a little girl anymore,” you said, glancing at him with a playful glint in your eye. “can you believe it?”

yoongi’s laughter was nervous, a strained attempt at casualness. “yeah, i can,” he replied, though the lie was almost tangible in the way he avoided your gaze. oh, if only you had known just how deeply his words conflicted with his inner reality. the poolside atmosphere was serene, the gentle ripples of the water reflecting the sunlight and adding a soothing background to your conversation. you sipped your drink, feeling the cool liquid contrast pleasantly with the warmth of the sun on your skin. yoongi sat close beside you, the space between you charged with an undercurrent of unresolved tension.

the heat of the sun was almost unbearable, and you found yourself shifting restlessly on the lounge chair. the coolness of the vodka lemonade was not enough to quell the growing discomfort you felt. it wasn’t merely the oppressive heat that was troubling you; there was an unsettling awareness that you had developed feelings for yoongi, and it was all too complicated. you knew it was wrong, knew you shouldn’t feel this way, but the truth was undeniable.

rising from the lounge chair, you decided to seek refuge in the kitchen. the cool interior of the house was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. you carried both glasses with you, their contents now barely touching the bottom of the tumblers. as you walked through the house, you could feel the tension in your steps, an eagerness to escape your own thoughts and the weight of your emotions.

once in the kitchen, you set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle of vodka and the jug of lemonade. the motion of pouring the vodka into the lemonade, the swirl of the liquid mixing together, was almost meditative. yet, the comfort of the routine did little to ease the restlessness simmering within you. in an effort to cool off, you discarded your sheer cover, letting it fall onto a nearby chair. the fabric slid off your shoulders and pooled on the seat, leaving you in your bikini once more.

the heat of the kitchen seemed to intensify as you stirred the drink, but it wasn't just the temperature that was making you sweat. you were grappling with the undeniable reality that you had feelings for yoongi—feelings that were supposed to be off-limits. the conflict inside you was almost as unbearable as the heat itself. he was quite literally your father's best friend, you had to keep repeating that to yourself, praying for some sort of voice of reason.

just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps alerted you to yoongi’s presence. you turned to find him standing at the kitchen entrance, his eyes fixed on you. for a moment, time seemed to freeze. your heart leaped in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that had been swirling within you. you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “are you okay?” you asked, the words slipping out with a hint of vulnerability.

his gaze was intense, almost pained as he took a step closer. he shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “how can i be okay?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “with you like this around me, for the next month?” the words hung between you, charged with a tension that neither of you seemed able to escape. Your heart pounded as you processed the implication of his statement. it was clear now—he was feeling the same struggle, the same undeniable pull that you were.

you pressed your lips together, trying to find the right words. “i can’t handle it either,” you admitted quietly, the weight of your own confession settling over you. “but it feels so wrong.” to your surprise, yoongi closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. his hands reached out, gripping your waist with a firmness that was both reassuring and electrifying. his gaze was locked onto yours, filled with a blend of longing and resolve.

without another word, he pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was sudden, a powerful surge of emotion that seemed to silence every other thought in your mind. his touch was both demanding and tender, his lips moving with a desperate intensity that spoke volumes. when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours with an almost anxious urgency. “does it still feel wrong?” he asked, his voice a low, husky murmur.

the question hung in the air, and without thinking, you responded by closing the space between you again. you pressed your lips against his, this time with a fierceness that matched the tumult of your feelings. the kiss was fervent, each movement a declaration of the emotions that had been kept in check for far too long.

his hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body, lingering on your breasts. the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin made you gasp into his mouth. yoongi took advantage of the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. you could feel the hunger in his touch, the need that mirrored your own.

his thumbs grazed your nipples, eliciting a moan from your throat. the sound seemed to drive him wild, and his touch grew more insistent. he pinched and rolled your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. your pussy grew wetter with each touch, and you found yourself grinding against his thigh, seeking relief from the growing ache.

his hands slid down to your waist, then under the fabric of your bikini bottom. with a swift motion, he pulled it aside, exposing your wet, eager pussy to the cool kitchen air. the contrast made you shiver, and you felt his cock harden against your stomach. the reality of what was happening was overwhelming, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the feel of his hands on you, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

you broke the kiss, panting. “right here?” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. yoongi nodded, his eyes dark with lust. “right here, right now,” he confirmed, his voice a gruff whisper. he stepped back, guiding you towards the kitchen counter. “i need to taste you,” he said, his gaze dropping to your pussy.

his words sent a thrill through you, and you eagerly climbed onto the counter. your legs parted, and he stepped between them, his eyes feasting on the sight before him. you watched as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. then, his tongue touched you. the sensation was exquisite, sending shockwaves through your body. you grabbed onto the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you held on for dear life.

his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and probing, as his fingers delved deeper into your pussy. you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening in anticipation. the air was thick with the scent of your arousal, and your moans filled the kitchen. it was all so wrong, but it felt so incredibly right.

his eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire to claim you in every way possible. without a second thought, you leaned back, exposing your throat. “choke me,” you begged, the words slipping out on a breathless whisper. yoongi’s eyes flared with surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. his hand wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel both safe and utterly vulnerable.

his mouth returned to your pussy, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. the feeling of his hand on your throat, the way he controlled your breathing, was intoxicating. your orgasm built, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over you. and when it finally hit, it was like nothing you had ever felt before—intense, all-consuming, and absolutely filthy.

his mouth remained on you, even as you gasped for air, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. “you gonna help me out, too?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “gonna suck my cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do?”

you slid off the counter, your legs wobbly from the intensity of your climax. dropping to your knees, you looked up at him, his cock standing proud and hard before you. without hesitation, you took him in your mouth, the taste of your juices mingling with the salty tang of his skin. his hand found its way to the back of your head, guiding you deeper. “fuck, princess, just like that,” he hissed, his grip tightening. you could feel his cock thicken in your mouth, and the power of the moment was exhilarating. you sucked and licked, eager to please him, to show him how much you wanted this.

his hips began to rock, fucking your mouth with an increasing urgency, his head embracing the back of your throat. you didn't care, you had all the reasons in the world to stop and set boundaries, but even more not too. he pulled at your hair, grunting with his heavy cock splitting your throat open. he looked down at you, your teary eyes and puffy lips, and it only made it worse for him, his cock throbbing in your mouth, but he couldn't cum like that. he needed to feel you, to tear you apart, to ensure that you'd never look for that kind of control from any other boy. nobody but him, he was the perfect pick. you needed somebody just a little bit older.

his cock slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop, and before you could even gasp for air, he turned you around, pressing you against the counter. his hand found its way into your bikini again, two thick fingers plunging into your pussy. you felt yourself stretch around him, your body begging for more. “you're soaked,” he murmured, his voice filled with a dark kind of glee. “you're gonna be the death of me.” you pushed back against his hand, wanting him to go deeper, to fill the ache that had only been heightened by his touch. “please,” you moaned, the word barely coherent as it slipped from your lips. “i need you.”

yoongi stepped closer, his body pressing against your back. “you're gonna get me,” he promised, his voice gruff with desire. he removed his fingers and lined up his cock, pressing the head against your entrance. he hadn't even pushed past your sopping folds yet, and you were already a mess. you felt him enter you, inch by inch, stretching you out. it was painful and perfect all at once, his girth splitting you open, filling you up in a way that made you feel so full, so alive. you bit your lip to stifle a scream as he pushed deeper, until he was fully seated inside you. your pussy clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to never let him go.

his hand returned to your throat, squeezing gently as he began to move. the counter was cold against your stomach, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was the way he filled you, the way his cock slammed into you with each powerful thrust. his other hand snaked around your body, playing with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

his grip tightened on your throat, cutting off your air. you felt the panic rise, but it only made you wetter. “you like that, don't you?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you like being choked while i fuck you?” your eyes rolled back in your head, and you nodded frantically. it was sick, it was twisted, but you didn't care. it felt too good to think about stopping.

his strokes grew faster, more erratic, his breathing ragged in your ear. “i'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. “where do you want it?” you choked out the words, “inside me,” and he growled his approval. with one final, powerful thrust, he released his grip on your throat, and you felt his warmth flood into you. your body convulsed around him, your own orgasm ripping through you with a ferocity that left you trembling.

his cock remained buried inside you as he leaned over, pressing his sweat-slicked chest against your back. “all mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “mine to fuck, to fill up with my cum.” your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop he had to give. the thought of his cum inside you, claiming you, made your core throb with a deep, primal need.

his cock slid out of you, and you felt the emptiness acutely. but before you could protest, he was pushing his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth. “have a taste,” he demanded, and you eagerly complied. the taste was salty and bitter, but it only served to drive you wild. your eyes watered as you sucked on his digits, cleaning them thoroughly.

he pulled away, his fingers tugging your bikini bottom up, the fabric pushing his sticky cum further into your sore cunt. “keep it in,” he ordered, his eyes dark and possessive. “i don't want my cum to spill out of that tight little cunt.” you nodded, standing on shaky legs. he reached out, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to his. “good girl,” he praised, his eyes searching yours.

you stepped away from the counter, the stickiness between your legs a constant reminder of what had just happened. your bikini was askew, and your body was still flushed with arousal. yoongi reached out, gently adjusting your bottoms to cover your swollen pussy. “don't tell anyone,” he whispered, his eyes serious. “this is our little secret.” you nodded, your throat tight with the promise of more to come. the air was thick with the scent of sex, and the kitchen felt different now—like a sacred space where you had both lost and found something in the heat of passion. “i won't,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “but what happens now?”

yoongi leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “now,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “we do this again, and again. until we can't get enough of each other.” his hand slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it possessively. “you're mine, and i have no intention of letting you go.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and fear. you knew this was wrong, knew that it could ruin everything, but the feeling of his cum inside you, his claim on your body, was too tempting to resist. you were in too deep, and you had no intention of climbing out

the hours stretched interminably, the passage of time marked only by the shifting light that filtered through the windows. you found yourself drifting between contemplation and restlessness, your thoughts endlessly circling the intimacy you had shared with yoongi. the weight of the moment, the raw intensity of the sex, seemed to press down on you with an almost unbearable gravity.

you had retreated to your room, seeking solace in its familiar confines. the bed, once a place of comfort, now felt like a vessel of confusion and regret. you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the room around you bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. your mind was a turbulent sea, tossing around memories of the kiss, the touch of his hands on your waist, and the conflicted look in his eyes. the sex, though fleeting, had been a revelation, an unspoken admission of what lay between you, and the enormity of it was daunting.

every time you closed your eyes, his face would appear, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing and anguish. the guilt that gnawed at you was mirrored by his own struggle. you had noticed it earlier when he had walked away from the kitchen, his shoulders slumped and his expression a portrait of internal conflict. it was clear that he was grappling with the same turmoil that had taken root within you.

the silence of the room was occasionally broken by the vibrations of your phone. the pings were a jarring intrusion into your contemplation, each one a reminder of the world outside your cocoon of worry. finally, when you reached for your phone, you found a message from taehyung, a friend whose exuberance was a contrast to the somber mood you were engulfed in. it read, “hey! i heard you’re back in daegu. i’m at the club tonight, and it’s been a while. you should come out and join me.”

the simplicity of taehyung’s invitation, the promise of an evening away from your internal strife, was like a breath of fresh air. it was exactly what you needed to escape the relentless spiral of guilt and self-reproach that had been consuming you. the thought of a night at the club, surrounded by friends and lost in the rhythm of music, was a welcome distraction, a way to momentarily forget the weight of your decisions and the confusion surrounding your feelings for yoongi.

without hesitation, you texted him back, accepting his invitation with a mix of relief and eagerness. the prospect of spending a night out, dancing and socializing, offered a tangible remedy to the unease that had settled so heavily upon you. in the privacy of your room, you stood in front of the mirror, preparing for a night out at the club. you had carefully chosen an outfit that was both stylish and expressive of your current mood—a sleek, black dress with a daring neckline that accentuated your figure, paired with heels that added just the right amount of allure. the dress clung to your curves in a way that felt both confident and liberating, each movement highlighting the grace you carried with you.

you applied your makeup with a meticulous touch, opting for a smoky eye that added a touch of glamour, and a bold lip color that completed the look. each brushstroke was a deliberate effort to transform yourself into someone who could temporarily escape the heaviness of recent days. the final touch was a pair of sparkling earrings that caught the light as you moved, completing your ensemble with a flourish.

as you finished getting ready, you heard the faint sounds of yoongi moving about in his room across the hall. you knew he was there, but the emotional weight of your recent interactions had kept you from directly addressing him. yonight was about reclaiming a sense of normalcy and fun, and the club seemed like the perfect escape. as you prepared to leave, you crossed the hall to grab a quick look at your reflection in the full-length mirror one last time. just as you turned, yoongi’s door opened slightly. he stepped into the hallway, his eyes widening in surprise as they took in the sight of you.

“where are you off to?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity mingled with an undertone of something else—something darker. you flashed him a bright, carefree smile, trying to inject a sense of lightness into the conversation. “taehyung is taking me to a club tonight,” you said, your voice cheerful despite the undercurrent of unease you felt.

his reaction was immediate. a flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a strained smile. “okay,” he replied, his voice barely concealing the tension that simmered beneath his words. “have a good time.” you nodded, feeling a pang of guilt at his subdued reaction, but the promise of a night out with friends was too alluring to ignore. you offered a final smile before turning and walking down the stairs, the click of your heels echoing in the quiet house.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a refreshing contrast to the warm interior. taehyung was waiting by his car, his face lighting up with a friendly grin as he saw you approach. he stepped out of the vehicle, and the two of you exchanged a warm hug. his arms encircled you in a friendly embrace, his laughter ringing out as he playfully commented on how good you looked.

from the window, yoongi watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. he saw the way taehyung looked at you, the way his eyes lingered on you with an admiration that seemed to cut through the night’s darkness. the casual familiarity of your hug, the easy way taehyung interacted with you, ignited a smoldering frustration within yoongi. he clenched his fists, trying to suppress the bubbling anger that rose within him. it wasn’t just the sight of you with someone else—it was the way taehyung’s gaze seemed to hold a mixture of affection and possessiveness that yoongi found almost unbearable. every movement, every gesture, seemed to etch itself into his memory with a burning intensity.

as you and taehyung got into the car and drove away, yoongi’s eyes remained fixed on the scene. the darkness of the night and the dim streetlights cast long shadows, but his thoughts were sharp and clear. the image of taehyung’s hug, the warmth and ease between the two of you, was seared into his mind, adding fuel to the smoldering frustration that had taken root within him.

the club was a pulsating whirl of neon lights and thumping bass, the energy of the crowd vibrating through the floor and into your very bones. the air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume and sweat, and the faint haze of smoke from the fog machines created an almost dreamlike atmosphere. music reverberated through every corner, a relentless beat that drove the rhythm of the night.

you and taehyung arrived to a warm welcome from the crowd, who greeted you with a mix of admiration and excitement. the club’s patrons had clearly heard of your return to daegu, and you were immediately swept up in the buzz of their enthusiasm. as you made your way through the throng of bodies, taehyung by your side, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of flashing lights and lively chatter.

at the bar, you signed another autograph, your signature fluid and practiced as you scrawled your name on a series of glossy photos and memorabilia. taehyung stood beside you, his laughter a comforting sound amid the chaos. “i’ll never get used to this,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. his eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. you chuckled softly, the sound almost lost amidst the cacophony of the club. “neither will i,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. the constant attention, the flashes of cameras, it all felt a bit surreal, a reminder of the world you had momentarily stepped away from.

his expression softened as he glanced at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. “why so down?” he asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive. you hesitated for a moment, the weight of your recent experiences heavy on your shoulders. “it’s a long story,” you replied, not willing to delve into the complexities of your emotions right now.

his eyes showed a glimmer of understanding, and he didn’t press further. instead, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “well, don’t let it ruin tonight. you’re here to have fun, remember? just let go and enjoy yourself for once.” his encouragement was a lifeline, and you took it to heart. you smiled at him, gratitude mingling with the resolve to let the night’s energy lift you from your thoughts. “okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “let’s do this.”

the two of you moved towards the dance floor, the pulsating rhythm of the music beckoning you closer. as you stepped onto the floor, the crowd seemed to part and then close around you, a living sea of people moving in sync with the beat. he slipped into the rhythm effortlessly, his movements fluid and confident. you followed his lead, allowing the music to wash over you and carry away the remnants of your lingering worries.

the lights above shifted in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting dynamic patterns across the dance floor. you lost yourself in the beat, your body swaying and twisting in time with the music. the beats were relentless, and as you danced, you felt the strain of the day’s emotions slowly dissolve, replaced by the exhilaration of the moment. the music seemed to resonate with something deep inside you, a reminder of the joy and freedom that had once been so familiar.

you occasionally glanced at taehyung, who was clearly having a blast. his infectious energy was a bright spot in the evening, and his carefree dancing seemed to pull you further into the night’s festivities. every now and then, he would catch your eye and flash a grin, as if to say, “see? isn’t this fun?”

as the night wore on, you took a break from dancing to grab a drink. the bar was bustling with activity, and the bartender quickly mixed a vibrant cocktail that was both refreshing and potent. you sipped the drink, feeling its coolness slide down your throat, and let the alcohol take the edge off your remaining anxieties. the conversation around you was a pleasant hum, and you found yourself engaging in light, cheerful banter with a few fellow partygoers.

every once in a while, you would catch sight of taehyung making his way through the crowd, often surrounded by a small group of admirers. his laughter and charisma were magnetic, drawing people in and creating an atmosphere of shared joy. you were grateful for his presence, his ability to make the night feel lighter and more enjoyable.

the night continued in a blur of music, dancing, and shared moments of joy. you felt a renewed sense of connection with taehyung and the people around you, a reminder that even amidst personal turmoil, there was still space for fun and camaraderie. as the hours passed and the club’s lights began to dim, signaling the approach of closing time, you felt a sense of contentment.

stepping outside into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, savoring the contrast between the heated club and the refreshing outside air. he stood beside you, his expression one of satisfaction and camaraderie. “see? that wasn’t so bad,” he said, nudging you playfully. you smiled, feeling a genuine sense of relief. “thanks for getting me out tonight,” you said. “i needed this.”

his grin widened. “anytime. let’s just make sure you don’t stay cooped up forever. there’s a lot more fun to be had.” as you both made your way to the car, the night felt lighter, and the burdens of the past few days seemed a little more manageable. the club had provided the distraction you needed, and as you drove away with taehyung, you allowed yourself to savor the fleeting moments of carefree joy that the night had offered.

in the stillness of the living room, the ticking of the clock seemed to echo louder with each passing second. yoongi sat slouched on the sofa, the dim light from the table lamp casting shadows across his face. his fingers fumbled with a can of beer, the metallic crumple of the empty container a testament to his mounting frustration. it was two in the morning, and you still hadn't come home. the silence of the house was oppressive, amplifying his anxiety and gnawing at his thoughts.

had something happened to you? had a stranger taken you for the night? the possibilities raced through his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. the quietness of the house was occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of the refrigerator or the soft rustle of the curtains, but these sounds did little to soothe his growing unease.

he watched the second hand of the clock tick away, each movement a reminder of the time slipping by. his fingers drummed impatiently against his knee, and the empty beer cans scattered on the table beside him were a reminder of how long he’d been waiting. the weight of his concern grew heavier with each passing minute, turning into an almost unbearable pressure.

finally, a sound broke through the silence—the unmistakable click of the front door opening. yoongi’s head snapped up, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and frustration. he watched as you stumbled into the living room, your movements unsteady and your eyes slightly glazed. the sight of you brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger.

you wobbled slightly as you approached him, your gaze softening as you took in his presence. with a tired but genuine smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. “i missed you,” you murmured, your voice thick with the effects of too many martinis. he let out a low chuckle, his amusement tinged with exasperation. “you smell like alcohol,” he observed, his tone more resigned than accusatory.

you frowned slightly and gestured towards the table where the empty beer cans lay. “and you’re no better,” you retorted, a playful edge to your words despite your unsteady stance. he raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “what were you doing at the club for so long?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

you shrugged, your arms still draped around his neck. “having fun,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your voice. he scoffed, a small smile playing on his lips. “with who?” he demanded, his tone edged with a hint of jealousy.

you grinned, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “with taehyung,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue with an affectionate lilt. his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. to your surprise, he reached out and gently lifted you up, placing you onto his lap. the movement was deliberate, his hold firm but gentle as he settled you comfortably. “with taehyung, huh?” he said, his voice low and contemplative as he looked at you.

you nodded shyly, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. “yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his gaze lingered on you, a conflicted mix of emotions evident in his eyes. “you two must be pretty close, huh?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of possessiveness.

you nodded again, feeling the intensity of his stare. “we’re friends,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering effects of the alcohol. his eyes darkened slightly, his frustration evident. “i don’t like that,” he said, his tone firm and resolute.

you tilted your head slightly, leaning into his touch as you pressed closer to him. “why not?” you asked, your voice soft and inquisitive. his hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing gently against your skin. “friends who look at you the way he does,” he said, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. he paused, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued, “make my blood boil.”

your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with the softness of his lips. the sensation was intoxicating, drawing you closer to him. without further hesitation, yoongi closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. the kiss was both urgent and tender, a mixture of the longing and frustration that had been building between you. his arms encircled you, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away.

the kiss deepened, his fingers tangling in your hair as he explored the softness of your lips. it was a moment of pure connection, a release of the emotions that had been pent up for too long. the intensity of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, made you feel as though nothing else mattered in that moment.

his hand slid down to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you onto his lap. the fabric of your black dress was thin, offering little resistance to his touch. you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, a silent declaration of his desire. your breath hitched in your throat as his hand moved higher, cupping your breast through the material. your nipples were already hard, begging for his attention.

without breaking the kiss, yoongi reached down and began to tug at the hem of your dress. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he pulled it up over your head, leaving you in just your lacy black lingerie. the sight of you half-dressed was almost too much for him to handle. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the lace of your panties. as he pulled them down, he caught a glimpse of the cum stain from earlier, a pleasant reminder of what he had done. his eyes flashed with possessive lust as he took in the sight of his dry cum on the fabric. “took it like such a good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

his hands found your hips, guiding you onto his waiting erection. the sensation of skin on skin was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. he was rougher this time, his movements urgent and demanding. with each thrust, he slapped your pussy, the sound echoing in the quiet room. the stinging sensation only served to heighten your arousal, making you moan louder with each hit.

his hands gripped your waist, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you riding him like a wave. the feeling of his cock filling you up was almost too much to bear, but you craved more. your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons in his skin as you leaned back, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

his dirty talk grew more intense, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. “don’t wanna see you with anymore boys,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “they won’t ever get to have you like this.” the words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, your walls tightening around him as you neared climax. his strokes grew more erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he approached his own release. you could feel him swelling inside you, his muscles tensing as he fought to hold back. but you were beyond caring about his control, your own need overwhelming any thought of restraint.

he took sight of the way his cock buried itself in your stomach, the outline evident. it was enoufh to make his dick twitch, he could practically see it happening. finally, with a guttural groan, he let go, filling you with his hot cum. the sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. tears streamed down your face, not from pain, but from the intensity of the pleasure that consumed you. as you collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air, you realized that this was the most alive you had ever felt.

“we need to stop doing this,” you exhaled softly, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. “stop?” he echoed, his voice gruff and surprised.

“it’s complicated enough already,” you murmured, your heart racing from the aftershocks of your climax. his grip on your waist tightened, his cock still pulsing inside you. “i don’t want us to stop,” he said, his voice unyielding. “is it such a crime to want you all to myself?”

his words sent a thrill through you, but also a pang of fear. you knew the consequences of your actions, the web of lies and deceit that would unravel if anyone found out. yet, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the way he made you feel alive and desired in a way no one else ever had. you pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the present, the warmth of his embrace, the scent of your mingled arousal, and the sticky mess between your legs. it was a mess you didn’t want to clean up, a mess that was a testament to your shared passion.

his hands began to move again, stroking your body with a gentle fierceness that made your skin tingle. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you ache for more. his fingers traced the path of his earlier possession, the cum stain on your panties now a wet smear as he slid his digits through it.

you gasped as he brought his hand up to your face, your own cum glistening on his fingers. before you could protest, he brought them to your mouth and slid them in, urging you to taste. the sweet and salty flavor filled your mouth, and you felt a wave of submission wash over you. his other hand found your clit, his thumb flicking and circling the sensitive nub as he began to thrust into you once more. his cock was still hard, the friction of his earlier release only adding to the intensity of the moment.

you couldn’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave in to the sensations. the room spun around you, your body no longer your own as he claimed you over and over again. it was a rough, animalistic fucking that made you feel more alive than you ever had. his slaps grew more forceful, his words more demanding. “say it,” he ordered, his voice harsh in your ear. “say you’re mine, only mine.”

“yoongi,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m yours, only yours.” his pace quickened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his second climax. you could feel his balls tightening, his body coiling like a spring ready to release. with a final, desperate groan, he emptied himself inside you, his cum mixing with your juices.

you collapsed onto him a second time, your body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. the room was still, the only sound the harshness of your breathing and the thundering of your hearts. for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in a sea of passion and desire. but reality would come crashing back soon enough, with the light of day and the harsh truth of your actions. for now, though, you were his, and he was yours, bound by a secret that neither of you could escape.

you sat at your desk, the dim light of your lamp casting a soft glow over the pages of your journal. the room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the pages as you turned them, the only sound breaking the silence of your introspective evening. the journal was your refuge, the place where you poured out your grief and unspoken pain, each word a release of the emotions that had been bottled up for too long.

your pen moved across the page in a hurried scrawl, the ink reflecting the depth of your sorrow. you wrote about the ache of missing your old self, the pressure of expectations unmet, and the weight of a future that seemed increasingly uncertain. tears blurred your vision, making the words on the page dance and waver. each tear that fell onto the paper seemed to absorb the rawness of your emotions, the ink smudging as your sorrow seeped into the pages.

you had shared so much with those sheets of paper, details of your grief that had remained unspoken. it was as if the journal was an extension of your heart, a place where your deepest fears and frustrations could find solace. but tonight, the act of writing felt especially cathartic and painful, the tears falling freely as you bared your soul to the empty pages.

the sound of footsteps from downstairs interrupted your solitude. you closed the journal and wiped your eyes hastily, trying to regain composure as you headed towards the staircase. the air downstairs was cooler, and the distant clinking of dishes and murmurs of conversation signaled that your mother was awake.

as you descended the stairs, you saw her seated at the kitchen table, her gaze directed towards the window. yoongi was in the living room, his presence a silent comfort in the midst of the familial tension. you greeted them quietly, your heart heavy with the emotions that you had tried so hard to contain. your mother looked up as you entered the kitchen, her expression unreadable. “how’s work?” she asked, her tone neutral but carrying a hint of concern. “when do you have to go back?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “i’ll be going back after the month passes,” you replied, forcing a calmness that didn’t match the turmoil inside you. she nodded, but there was a shadow of disapproval in her eyes. “i prayed for your success, you know,” she said. “but i wish you had chosen a different path—one that’s more respectable. you could have been a doctor, a lawyer, someone who makes a real difference. instead, you’re just posing for a camera.”

the words struck you like a physical blow, each syllable a reminder of the gap between your aspirations and her expectations. your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, your heart aching with the weight of her judgment. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the apology feeling inadequate in the face of her disapproval. her gaze softened slightly, but the damage was done. the conversation had laid bare the fact that no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you achieved, your mother’s acceptance was always just out of reach. the realization was a sharp, stinging reminder of the ongoing struggle to reconcile your dreams with her expectations.

without a word, you excused yourself from the room, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on your shoulders. you moved with a sense of urgency towards the bathroom, needing a moment away from the prying eyes and the crushing disappointment. in the bathroom, the cool, sterile light offered little comfort as you shut the door behind you. you leaned against the sink, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the tap, letting the water run until it became a soothing backdrop to your tears. the tears came freely now, each drop a release of the pain you had been holding inside. the harsh brightness of the bathroom seemed to amplify your emotions, every sob echoing in the stillness of the room.

you closed your eyes tightly, letting the tears flow unabated. the mirror reflected your tear-streaked face, the red-rimmed eyes a testament to the depth of your grief. you took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had been stirred up by your mother’s words. the tears were a release, a way of letting go of the pent-up frustration and sadness. as the sobs began to subside, you found solace in the simple act of crying, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your mother’s disapproval and the grief of your own unmet expectations. you knew that the moment of vulnerability was a necessary part of your healing process, a way to confront and process the emotions that had been building up inside you.

yoongi's heart felt heavy with the weight of the earlier conversation. his concern for you had deepened, and he felt an overwhelming urge to understand more about what you were going through. his feet, driven by a mix of worry and compassion, carried him towards your room. the door creaked open slowly, and yoongi stepped into the space that was so intimately yours. the room was bathed in a soft glow from a lamp on your nightstand, its light gently illuminating the walls adorned with photographs. his eyes were immediately drawn to the collection of images, a testament to the life you had lived.

photos of you as a little girl lined one wall, capturing moments of innocence and joy. in some, you were caught in candid laughter, a radiant smile lighting up your face. others showed you at milestones, each image a snapshot of a time before the complexities of adulthood began to weigh heavily on you. yoongi’s chest tightened at the sight, a pang of sorrow stirring in his stomach. it was impossible not to feel the ache of how much you had grown, how far you had come from that wide-eyed child full of dreams.

next to those nostalgic images were more recent photos—of you as you were now, your beauty more striking than ever, yet layered with an undeniable sadness. each photograph seemed to tell a story of its own, a reflection of the woman you had become. his heart ached at the contrast between the vibrant child in the old pictures and the poignant figure in the more recent ones. it was clear that beneath the surface of your radiant exterior lay a deep, unresolved pain.

his gaze was drawn to the desk, where he saw your journal resting atop a pile of neatly stacked papers. he hesitated for a moment, knowing it was a violation of your privacy, but the pull of his concern was stronger. with trembling hands, he opened the journal, its pages warm from the gentle light of the lamp.

the first entry his eyes fell upon was a stark revelation of your inner turmoil, “i want to die, doesn’t everyone?” the words were raw and haunting, a glimpse into the depths of your suffering. yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he read on, his heart breaking with each line. you had written about sleepless nights, about the emptiness that came with a lack of meals, and the guilt you felt for your suffering despite having what many would envy. the words were a vivid portrait of your struggle, painting a picture of the pain you had carried alone.

further along, you wrote about your mother, your conflicted feelings towards her. despite her love, you had felt her disapproval, her preference for a different path for you. the way you described your feelings of inadequacy, the yearning for acceptance, cut deep into yoongi’s heart. each entry was a window into a world of quiet desperation, a reflection of your most private fears and regrets.

as his eyes scanned the entries, he felt a profound sadness. the weight of your words, the anguish you had poured onto the pages, seemed to press down on him with a crushing force. he was lost in the depth of your pain when he heard the softest of voices behind him. “it’s stupid, isn’t it?” he turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, a sad smile on your face, the remnants of tears still visible on your cheeks. his heart ached even more seeing you like that, so vulnerable and exposed. he took a step towards you, his face reflecting a mix of anguish and determination.

“nothing you feel could ever be stupid,” he said gently, his voice laden with sincerity. his hand reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “why didn’t you tell me about this? why didn’t you share any of this with me?” you shrugged, your gaze falling to the floor as if it held the answers you couldn’t articulate. “i always had a feeling i’d never live long,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

yoongi’s breath caught at your words. the notion that you felt such a finality in your existence was more than he could bear. without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug was a physical manifestation of his anguish and his need to offer you comfort. he stiffened as he held you, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. “never say that again,” he whispered fiercely into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “is that really what you want? to leave me alone, to fight it all in silence?”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “i’d give anything to be the little girl you remember,” you admitted between sobs. “i miss her more than anyone.”

his heart broke at your admission. he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own filled with an earnest intensity. “you should be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him. “that little girl would be so proud of you. and no one could be more proud than i am.”

you looked at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity, but all you found was a deep, unwavering conviction. “you really think so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “yes,” he affirmed, his eyes locked onto yours with a warmth that seemed to dispel the shadows of doubt. “she would be proud, but nobody could be as proud as me. you’ve grown into someone incredible, someone who has faced so much and still stands strong.”

in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a sense of comfort and acceptance that had been elusive for so long. his words, filled with genuine admiration and affection, offered a glimmer of hope amid the lingering darkness. you clung to the promise in his voice, the promise that despite everything, you were valued, you were loved, and you were worthy of pride.

✧.*

a/n: a shorter one lol a dabble if u will

BONES & ALL (본즈 앤 올) (DRABBLE)

✧.* 16+

it was raw. not in the way you snacked on maraschino cherries under the sunlight in rome, not in the way the sweetness lingered on your tongue, dripping with a saccharine aftertaste that reminded you of summer. no, this was different—primal, almost. it was a love that bared its teeth, stripped of pretense, of pleasantries, and of the gentle touches that polite society deemed proper. it demanded everything and gave in return, not in delicate whispers or soft kisses, but in the pounding of your heart that seemed to echo in your very bones.

it wasn’t just the physical that made this love different. it was the connection that ran deeper than words, deeper than thought. in the silence, when the world around you fell away, you could feel—every hope, every fear, every dark corner of his soul he had kept hidden from the rest of the world. and you knew, in that silence, that you were the only one who could ever truly understand him. it was a love that was terrifying in its intensity, but you welcomed it. you welcomed the way it tore through you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, because it also made you feel more alive than you had ever been. you wanted to bask in it, to let it consume you until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled together in a world of your own making. this love was not pretty; it was not sweet or delicate. it was raw.

“i can’t do it,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. the tears had come without warning, slipping down your cheeks as if they’d been waiting for this very moment, mingling with the metallic scent of blood that hung in the air, thick and intoxicating. it wasn’t a stench—not to you, not now. it was a need, a desperate, consuming need that gnawed at the edges of your sanity, twisting your insides with a sickening blend of hunger and revulsion.

you hated yourself for it. hated the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips, seeking out that taste you shouldn’t crave, that bitter tang that made your head swim and your heart race. but it was there, undeniable, just as yoongi was there, his presence overwhelming, consuming. he was smiling, though it was a fragile thing, a ghost of the smirks you’d come to know so well. his eyes, however, betrayed him—heavy with sorrow, thick with tears that he refused to let fall, not now, not when he knew the end was upon him.

the angel of death had come for him, ready to collect the debt yoongi had long known he owed. and yet, as his hands—cold as death itself, as if they’d been left in the freezer to chill—came up to cradle your face, he looked at you with such tenderness, such raw, unfiltered love, that you almost believed he could still be saved. his fingers trembled slightly, brushing over your skin with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his final moments, smearing his blood across your cheeks in a macabre caress. it was a final gesture, one that held a dark, twisted irony, a taunt almost. he wanted to feel you, to mark you, to leave a piece of himself on you even as his life slipped away. more so, he wanted you to give in.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and it struck you just how beautiful he was in this moment. he had never looked better, never seemed more alive, more vulnerable. more raw. his blood, his very essence, painted across your skin—he was both the artist and the masterpiece, and you were the canvas upon which he’d chosen to leave his final mark. the thought made your heart clench, your stomach twist in knots of guilt and desire.

“you have to,” he whispered, his voice a strained rasp, the words heavy with an unspoken plea. his breath was ragged, his strength waning, yet he used the last of it to press his forehead against yours. his eyes searched yours, seeking something—maybe reassurance, maybe a promise, maybe just the comfort of knowing that you were still there, with him, even as everything else slipped away. his scent, that familiar, intoxicating scent, filled your senses, clouding your mind until all you could focus on was him—his blood, his skin, his very presence that clung to you like a second skin.

you gritted your teeth, sobbing uncontrollably, the sound raw and guttural, torn from the depths of your soul. you wanted to focus on his touch, the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his breath ghosted over your lips, but all you could think about was his scent—how it enveloped you, how it lingered in the air like a dark, forbidden perfume.

“you have to do it,” he said again, his voice cracking, betraying the emotion he’d tried so hard to keep at bay. his eyes bore into yours, pleading, desperate. “bones and all.”

it wasn’t a command—it was a wish, a dying wish that hung in the air between you like a weight too heavy to bear. he wanted you to take him, to consume him in every way possible, to make him a part of you even in death. he could go, he could let himself slip away into the darkness, knowing that the last thing he’d given you was all of him—every broken, bleeding piece.

you had him—had him this whole time, but it wasn’t enough. he wanted you to go all the way, to take him in, bones and all, until there was nothing left but the memory of him that would haunt you forever. even in death, he wanted to be yours, to be the reason your stomach churned, the reason your tears fell, the reason you felt sick to your stomach with the taste of him on your tongue, the reason you cried out in agony as you tasted the last remnants of him on your lips. being in your heart wasn’t enough, loving you wasn’t enough. you would become one.

he wouldn't fight it, no matter how much it had hurt. he wouldn't fight the way his skin tore, his wound already ran deep enough. it could run even deeper if it was for you, he knew you too well. he knew you would give in, especially for him. he would tell you tear him apart, he would let you do anything. he made you hungry. if you took his finger, he would give you his arm. to love is to consume, every bit of it. his bones would crunch under the weight of your love. it was raw. it was love. how he loved it when you held his hands with your teeth, stripping every layer of the body that was now yours. how he loved it when you kissed his teeth, instead of his lips. there would be no leftovers, nothing to be thrown out. he was yours, in every sense. his lips had always been sweet, you thought. even as they bled crimson, every drop tasted like honey on your tongue.

no matter how gently you opened him, the blood would still taint your flesh, your heart, your soul. his heart had stopped beating long ago, but it didn't matter. it didn’t need to beat to love you, to belong to you. it needed to be consumed. he was tough—tougher than you’d ever imagined, tougher than you’d ever wanted to know. the feeling of him in your mouth only confirmed the thought—he was tough. he was tougher on the outside than the inside. and yet, even now, you didn’t want to hurt him. you never had. but how could he hurt? how could he feel anything but peace, knowing that he was yours, that you had him, bones and all?

✧.*

Sleepy Cats

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Min Yoongi × Female Reader

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"What are you doing here?" Yoongi asked eyeing the pillow and blanket on my hands, as I stood in front of his studio door.

"I can't sleep alone." I said.

Yoongi walked up to me and grabbed the pillow from my hands, "You can't sleep in here."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" I pouted, "Yoongi, I'm not going to sleep alone. Now, either you come to the bed with me or I sleep here on the couch while you work."

Yoongi sighed and nodded, "alright!"

I prepared my bed on his studio couch and lied down. Yoongi, putting on his headphones, went back to his work.

"How heartless!" I thought.

After what seemed like a tormenting hour of tossing and turning, I walked up and stood behind him long enough for him to notice me.

He pulled back his headphones, "What now?"

"Come lie with me till I sleep." I demanded.

"Please go back to the bed. I told you, didn't I? You can't sleep in here." He ignored me again and turned back to his screen.

I grabbed the Shooky plushie from his table and went back to the couch. Yoongi glanced back at me. I held Shooky tightly on my arms and closed my eyes shut forcefully.

"Make some space for me, please." I looked up and saw Yoongi standing beside me.

We were squeezed in the little space of the couch. I rested my head on his chest while he slowly caressed my hair. Hearing his heartbeat was really soothing.

"Don't stress yourself too much." Yoongi whispered in my ears.

I let out a chuckle, "Look, who's giving me advise about relaxing!"

Yoongi smiled and pulled me into a tighter embrace, "Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

My Masterlist

Cosmos - Cornfield Sequel

Pairing: Min Yoongi (SUGA) X Reader

Genre: Alien!AU, Romance

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Explicit language, jealousy, Yoongi being an idiot (juss a lil bit), pregnancy sex (it's a lot I know), smut (it's pretty crap just so yall know), tooth rotting fluff (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 9.6k (see? I'm getting there)

Summary: Yoongi and you had been travelling together for a long time. You’d begun the terrifying journey of becoming parents. When a new person arrives in a way you didn’t expect, you and Yoongi’s relationship is sent into a tailspin.

It had been three months since you and Yoongi had decided to start trying for a baby. Your efforts, while valiant, have been unsuccessful. But Yoongi wasn’t keen on giving up.

“Y/N, I know we had sex yesterday but I believe that if I’m tracking your fertility cycle correctly today is the premium opportunity-”

“Yoongi, I love you so much but no, I started my period today,” you answered him.

“So I haven’t been tracking it correctly, good to know,” he snorted.

“No-wait. What the fuck why?” you shrieked.

“Because I thought we were trying for a baby, am I not supposed to know things like your fertility cycle?” he asked.

“You’re not supposed to be so blunt about it, no,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes I wonder about you humans,” Yoongi’s face crinkled, but his familiar gummy smile appeared. You smiled right back, coming forward to kiss him gently. Yoongi moved to deepen the kiss but you quickly skirted away.

“Ah ah, no sexy times today!” you said, walking off down the hallway.

“Humans are so fickle,” Yoongi said, heading toward his study.

--

Yoongi decided a change of scenery was very much needed for the both of you. So you wound up on the planet Rexulta. A beautiful planet full of bustling life and varying races. Even some humans were living on Rexulta. You were so excited to explore another planet, looking at the life and meeting new people. Just living like this made your heart sing.

So when Yoongi brought it up, of course you said yes.

“I’d love to go!” you said, excitement clear in your voice.

“I’m glad you're happy,” he said, kissing your head gingerly.

“I’m happy when I get to be with you,” you said in a mushy voice.

“Don’t say it like that, you sound creepy,” he said, pushing you away by your chest. You yelped, holding your boob in pain.

“Ow! Dick, don’t just shove on the boobs man!” you said, rubbing your breast gently.

“I apologize, I wasn’t aware that they were still sensitive, you stopped bleeding a while ago,” he sighed, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Whatever, coordinates! Let’s go!” you said, coming over to his side again.

“Yes yes, I’m plugging them in right now,” he said, leaning over the console of the machine he loved so much. You smiled and watched him work, pulling levers and pushing buttons. Especially yours, those were his favorite to fuck around with.

Soon the pair of you were landing on Rexulta!

Yoongi always went first to check and see if it was habitable for humans. Something you appreciated. He came back with the all clear and you were off exploring together!

You had landed in one of the planet’s cities, Ilmarion. It used to be the planet’s capital but after a fire burnt down the city it had to rebuild. You and Yoongi explored around the ruined edges, not really looking for anything in particular. When the mood suddenly hit you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you said, trailing behind him slowly.

“Mhmm,” he answered, not really listening to you. But you pressed on anyways.

“Do you wanna, you know, investigate something else,” you asked, already cringing at your lame attempt at subtlety.

“Like what?” he asked, still looking down at his scanner.

“I dunno, like me?” you asked.

“You? What is there to investigate about you?” he questioned, head never lifting from his device.

“Rude, there is still a ton you don’t know about me,” you challenged.

“I know more than you think I do,” he said.

“Oh yeah? What’s my favorite color?” you asked, not really knowing the answer yourself.

“You don’t know what your favorite color is, Y/N,” he said, almost bored.

“What? Of course I do!” you said, not sounding so confident.

“Is there some particular reason you’re picking a fight with me?” he said, turning around to look at you, finally.

“I-I’m not trying to pick a fight-”

“Then what do you want?” he asked.

For some reason the way he was looking at you had you on edge. Normally Yoongi wouldn’t act so on guard.

“I just, y’know. Wanted to, well-” you said, looking at your feet.

“Is it sex? You want sex?” he asked, coming forward.

“Not so much anymore,” you said, now that he’d thoroughly ruined the mood.

“Okay,” he trailed off.

“We’re normally not so awkward with each other,” you pointed out.

“Sorry, I’m a little lost in my own head,” he said, bringing you into his arms.

“Mm, what’s going on in that sexy brain of your Yoongi?” you asked.

“Nothing much, well. I shouldn’t say that. There are a lot of complicated calculations going on in my head right now, but it’s okay. I’ll tell you later,” he said,

“Okay, just don’t get too distant from me. I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you too,” he said, touching his forehead with yours. An affectionate motion he’d picked up a while ago. Smiling, you took his hand and led him off towards the city.

It was loud and almost stifling with how many people there were. But it was so incredible. The lights of the city were so soft and warm it made you want to curl up with a blanket. But the people were all so different. It was like a hodgepodge of different species all in front of you! Yoongi was equally impressed. He even saw a few of his own species lurking around. You had yet to find any humans, but the day was still young. Yoongi kept a tight hold on you, making sure that you didn’t get separated.

“Hey, there’s a cafe over there, wanna go check it out?” you asked, pointing down the road.

“Yes, that would be nice,” Yoongi agreed.

The pair of you walked down the road, investigating little stores that were there, or people watching. There was so much to see here!

Yoongi held the door open for you when you made it to the cafe. It was a pink building that stood out against the greyscape of the rest of the planet. It seemed to have been untouched by the rest of the soot from the old fire. Must be expensive to maintain this kind of paint job.

You shook your head of those thoughts and sat down at a table with Yoongi. He looked over the menu, knowing what a few of the items were and asking about a few others to see if they were safe for humans. Yoongi gave you a menu he thought was safe for your consumption and you picked from those. He really was a sweet guy when you got down to it. Your safety was his number one priority. Always making sure things were safe before you proceeded. Simple things that really made your heart pound for the man in front of you.

“So, what are you thinking of getting?” Yoongi asked, looking through the menu for himself.

“I’m not sure, the fried dough looking thing looks good though. I’ve been craving sweet stuff,” you said, mouth watering at the thought of some fried dough with icing on it.

“Get whatever you want,” he encouraged, waving the waiter down so you could order.

“Good afternoon! I’m Kim Seokjin and I’ll be your server today!” he smiled brightly.

“Hi, I’ll have the fried dough with icing,” you said, pointing at the picture.

“Very good choice, it's a favorite here, do you want jam with it or just the icing?” he asked, giving you the options of apple, polian fruit or blackberry.

“Yoongi can I have polian fruit?” you asked.

“Yes, you can,” he answered, looking out the window.

“Then I’ll have it with icing and polian fruit please!” you said.

“Very well, and for you sir?”

“I’ll have the same thing except instead of polian fruit I’ll have apple,” he said.

“Awesome, I’ll get those right out for you!” he smiled and walked off.

“Was he human?” you asked, staring at the pink haired man walking away.

“I think so, although his personality seemed a little much,” Yoongi said, pouting.

“Don’t like our overzealous waiter?” you asked, a smile on your face.

“It’s not that, it’s just... Nevermind,” he said, waving it off.

“Okay,” you said, looking out the window with him.

The planet was beautiful. Reddish pink skies with blue moons in the center of them. The clouds looked so soft like cotton candy and the people were all so different it made your head spin. But Yoongi was used to this lifestyle, unlike you. So he wasn’t as taken with it as you were. The cafe you were sat in seemed like an old diner from the fifties back on Earth, but the color scheme was yellow and purple instead of pink and blue or something more classic like that. But you didn’t mind it, a little change was good now and then.

“Y/N,” Yoongi said, looking at you.

“Yes?” you answered.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?” he asked.

You almost spit out your drink.

“What?! Where is this coming from Yoongi?” you asked, looking around to make sure your outburst wasn’t seen by many.

“Well I know it is a human tradition, something you do with someone you love. And normally you have children after you’re married so I thought maybe you’d want to get married before we tried having a child? Or maybe that you didn’t care or-I don’t know, it was just something I was researching,” he coughed.

“Yoongi, I don’t feel the need to get married. I have you and I’m happy with you. I know how much I love you, I know how I feel for you. I just don’t think we need to. But if you want to I don’t see why not,” you answered, playing with the straw in your water.

“It’s fine, whatever you want is what I want. But, it was something I came across in research and wanted to mention to you,” he said, seeming as cool as ever.

“Okay, I guess,” you said, when Seokjin came back with your meals.

“Here we are, fried dough with icing and polian fruit and fried dough with icing and apple jam,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Sure thing, is there anything else you need right now?”

“No, I think we’re okay,” you answered.

“Alright, just wave me over if you need something okay?” he said, before sauntering off in the opposite direction.

And the topic of marriage was dropped.

--

The next few days went by anticlimactically. Yoongi was into something else research wise and was going around and sampling and you weren’t feeling well so you stayed behind.

Although, when he came back there was another voice with him.

“So, as you can see, there is a distinct difference in the way this planet’s atmosphere was formed than on Opthamlima, where you come from,” he said.

You came around the corner and there she was. Tall, pale, almost white skin and hair that practically glimmered in the light. She was beautiful...

“Obviously, I knew this. But what do you make of the difference in atmosphere now than in Opthamlima. I believe it has something to do with the technology being more advanced on my planet. Here, it is almost a joke of how primitive it all is. But, the atmosphere is better, so does our technology have something to do with a deterioration of our planet? It is a wonderful point of study don’t you think?”

“I believe there could be a correlation there, but there would have to be sampling done from Opthamlima as well.”

“Yoongi?” you asked, looking between the two of them.

“Y/N, you’re awake, how are you feeling?” he asked, coming forward to check you over.

“I feel better, who is she?” you asked, looking towards the unfamiliar face in the hallway.

“I’m Madema, from the planet Opthamlima. You must be Y/N the human Yoongi is travelling with!” she said, coming closer. “I’ve never met a human before. Your species is truly fascinating!”

“Thank you?” you said.

“It’s no wonder why we don’t dissect you and figure you out. But, I know Yoongi has befriended you. This is all a jest, please feel free to laugh,” she said.

“I will when I find something funny,” you said, shying into Yoongi a little more.

“Oh goodness! You truly are something fascinating!”

“Yoongi?” you asked, looking at him.

“Don’t worry, she’s harmless. Another mind that has curiosity like mine in the universe, so rare to find it these days I had to pick her brain. You understand, don’t you?” he asked.

“Sure...” you said.

“Well, you should get some rest, Yoongi mentioned you had a fever this morning. You really should go lie down, wouldn’t want something to happen to you! Yoongi, where is your study, you mentioned showing me some notes from a previous voyage,” Madema said, looking down the hallway past you.

“Yes, yes, follow me. Y/N, if you need something come find me,” he said, walking off down the hallway with Madema in tow.

Something about him spending alone time with another woman made your skin crawl.

Especially one of her caliber...

But you did as he asked and went to bed, only to lay awake for hours.

Why did he feel the need to bring another woman aboard the ship? Surely he could’ve just brought the notes to her at a different place. Why bring her here? And what was her deal? Why did she look so...

Gorgeous.

Beautiful.

Everything you’re not.

“Damn it,” you sighed, getting up out of bed.

Yoongi still hadn’t returned, something that made it even harder for you to sleep than before.

Wandering around the ship you heard laughter coming from Yoongi’s study. That was odd. Yoongi didn’t really laugh a lot. He was more of a smile kind of guy. But on very rare occasions, you’d hear him laugh. Chuckle more like, but it still sent a shiver of pleasure through you knowing you brought him joy.

Knocking on the door you saw Madema sitting on Yoongi’s desk.

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Okay?” he said, like he was confused as to why you were bringing him into this.

“Will you come and wait with me until I fall asleep?” you asked.

“I could but-”

“It’s okay, go with her Yoongi. She looks terrible, if you being with her could help her get some rest then I think it would be a beneficial endeavor,” she explained.

“I suppose you’re right,” Yoongi nodded.

“I’ll get going. It was a pleasure. I look forward to doing our research together in the future,” she said, brushing past you as she went to leave.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said, taking you by the shoulders and having you walk to your bedroom.

Exhaustion hit when you felt Yoongi wrap you up in his arms.

“I love you,” you whispered.

You didn’t hear a response.

--

Yoongi was rarely home now.

Madema was taking up all of his spare time.

‘Oh, let’s go for lunch at the cafe and compare notes!’

‘We should go down by the water and take samples to see what stage of life the sea water is at!’

It was all very infuriating.

When Yoongi was with you, he was tired and distant. Not really looking or talking to you much at all. Every night you’d tell him you loved him, and you were surprised if you heard a response back from him at all. It broke your heart to know that the man you loved, wasn’t focused on you. Especially because you were starting to get even sicker.

It was all you could do to get yourself out of bed in the morning.

The nausea was almost disabling. But you rarely threw up. But it was enough for you to stay in bed and not move for most of the day. If Yoongi was concerned he didn’t show it. Checking your temperature in the morning, writing it down and then moving on with his day.

Days that were spent away from you.

Some days he’d bring Madema back to the ship to help him catalog his notes or to do some more research in the lab. Or even just to talk. You can’t remember the last time you and Yoongi had a real conversation. Something with substance.

You heard laughter down the hall again, loud and boisterous.

Madema.

It was like she was mocking you. And everything you had. Because now she had it. Yoongi could easily kick you out like a lost pup, and leave with her instead. Starting a new life with her and her huge ass. God, it was so hard not to be jealous when... when he hardly even acknowledged you were there.

Before trying to get affection from Yoongi was hard, now it was impossible. You were starting to forget how soft his lips were, how husky his voice got when he wanted you... Fuck, you were getting wet just thinking about Yoongi in the bedroom.

You could see him, pulling his shirt off in front of you and throwing it on the floor...

His muscles gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom. His hair messy from being played with. You felt your center throb with need for him.

But as he started walking, he was walking away from you. Towards the door. Where Madema stood, in a beautiful set of lingerie.

“I have her now, and we’ll make children. Something you can’t give me.”

Throwing the blankets off your body you stalked down the hall like an angry bull. Heading towards the kitchen to get something to drink. You got some water from the sink and threw it back, gulping it down thirstily. When you heard footsteps coming towards you.

You saw the two of them round the corner, both immersed in conversation.

“Exactly, I’m so glad you understand,” Madema smiled.

“Yes, and furthermore-oh Y/N, what are you doing out of bed?” Yoongi asked.

“Why do you care?” you asked, looking at him unimpressed.

“What?” he asked, seeming shocked.

“Nothing, nevermind,” you said, moving to put the glass in the sink when it fell from your grip and shattered on the floor.

“Y/N!” Yoongi yelped, coming forward.

“Stop, Yoongi, you’ll step on glass,” Madema warned.

“I got it,” you said, starting to pick it up when a wave of dizziness took over you.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Madema asked.

“F-Fine,” you stuttered out.

“You look really pale,” Yoongi said.

“I said I’m fine,” you answered. But the black spots blurring your vision said otherwise.

“You really should sit down,” Madema said, no real concern in her voice.

“I don’t need your help,” you growled at her.

“Where is all of this hostility coming from? Y/N?” Yoongi asked.

“Nothing, you two, I’m fine,” you said, pushing away from him and moving away from the broken glass. Just as you were about to book it down the hallway, you fell to your knees. Your legs unable to support you any longer. You heard the echoing of footsteps, but you didn’t really register them in your brain. But you felt cool hands on your sides, shaking you lightly.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Yoongi yelled at you.

“Yoongi...” you whispered, not having the strength to turn your head to look at him.

“Madema we should get her into the lab and do some bloodwork,” Yoongi suggested. But the second you heard her name come out of his mouth, everything seemed crystal clear again.

“No,” you ripped away from him yet again, and struggled to stand to your feet.

“Y/N?” Yoongi questioned, watching as you wobbled on your two legs for a second.

“I don’t want to get any blood work done. I’m fine,” you grit out, using the wall as you continued to walk away from them.

“Yoongi, she’s clearly in distress. Do you have a sedative or anything like that?” Madema asked from behind you.

“Yoongi,” you said, his blue head turned to you. “If you love me, please trust in the fact that I’m okay. You don’t need to do bloodwork, you don’t need to check me over. I’m okay. I promise,” you smiled, weakly.

“Okay, if you’re really sure,” he said, coming over to place his hand on your head.

It was one of the only times he’s touched you since Madema got here.

You relished in his cool hands, cradling you with such tenderness it made your heart leap into your throat. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. Yoongi found purchase on your hips and rested his head atop of yours. It was so nice to hold him like this. Especially with that little space nerd watching.

Stealing a glance her way, you could see the jealousy in her eyes. Just to rub it in a bit more, you leaned in for a kiss. Yoongi obliged you and gave you a gentle peck in return, but it lit a fire in your stomach that you wanted quenched...

“Yoongi,” you whispered, tugging on his sleeves like you did when you wanted something.

“Hmm?” he asked, enjoying the moment with you.

“Come to bed? Can’t you continue your research tomorrow? Don’t you remember our research?” you asked, placing his hand on your stomach softly.

Yoongi visibly gulped as he felt the softness of your lower stomach.

“I-I don’t, um, you said you weren’t feeling well and I don’t want to jeopardize your health or-”

“No, Yoongi. By all means, abandon our research and have a little fun with your trollop over there,” Madema walked up to the pair of you. “But humans are only pets on Opthmalima.”

She started to walk away, and you felt a sick sense of gratification flush over you.

“Madema wait!” Yoongi said, moving towards her.

“Yoongi?” you asked, his hand still in yours.

“Y/N... I-I don’t...” he said.

“Don’t what Yoongi,” Madema said.

“Don’t make me choose,” he said, looking at the pair of you desperately.

“Fine,” you both said at the same time.

“Y/N, just go to bed. We can talk about this some other time. Madema go to the lab and wait for me there,” he said, letting go of your hand completely.

You stared at your outstretched hand like an idiot. But you really couldn’t believe it.

“No, I’ll make this easy,” you said, pushing past them both.

“Y/N!? Where are you going?” he asked, sounding almost annoyed.

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, turning around. “Cause you won’t have to see me again.”

--

Yoongi sat in the lab, the familiar sounds of his tech working always seemed to help him calm down. But not this time.

‘Cause you won’t have to see me again.’

What did you mean by that?

Were you serious?

Yoongi wasn’t sure if he could handle not seeing you again...

“Yoongi?” Madema asked, coming closer to him.

“Yes?” he answered, turning to face her.

“What kind of research were you and Y/N, conducting? No offense but she doesn’t seem like the brightest star in the sky if you ask me,” she said, fiddling with her drink.

“Ah, well... It became less research and more... How do I put this? Genuine affection,” Yoongi answered.

“What was the initial research?” she asked again.

“Well, Y/N is a human and she comes from a stagnant gene pool. We saw the result of infertility on Plasmaxine 9, and it was haunting. The way people were dying and life wasn’t able to find a way to come through once more. So, I started researching humans, and to see if there was a way to save them. Although, since humans are more primitive than most species, there isn’t a lot of books about them or their anatomy. So, Y/N offered her body up for research,” Yoongi said, awkwardly rubbing his hands together.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, we-uh... Started having sexual intercourse and attempting to have a child,” Yoongi said.

“Are you kidding? With her?” Madema said, looking off in disgust.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, humans are so basal and primal. They don’t think with logic, but with their emotions. It’s almost sad how imperfect they are. That’s why we keep them as pets, we pity them. So, on Opthmalima, we give them to the labor force or we have them for an accessory. Especially children, because they are so rare.”

The way Madema was talking made Yoongi sick.

“An accessory? No species should be used as an accessory, or a show of someone’s wealth. That's truly disturbing, Madema,” Yoongi said, standing up.

“It wasn’t said to upset you, Yoongi. I know you’re fond of Y/N-”

“I’m not fond of her, I love her,” he said, firmly.

“I don’t know how much of it is love, or how much of it is a mutual dependence,” Madema said, playing with her nails.

“Explain,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Well, she was all you had for two years, correct? And she nursed you back to health after you crash landed in her cornfield. No doubt you feel indebted to her. She saved you. But after all that time, living in close proximity with her, it must’ve made you feel comfortable around her. And she was comfortable around you. You two are friends, and that’s wonderful Yoongi. But she’s a human, they are a dying breed. So are you sure you love her or you want to save her? When did these feelings of affection start on your side?” she asked.

“Shortly after she kissed me for the first time,” he explained.

“I see, then may I conduct an experiment?” she asked.

“What is your experiment-”

Then her lips were on his. She was warm to the touch, lips a little wet but nothing bad. Although, Yoongi couldn’t get over how wrong this felt. She was touching him, and he didn’t particularly enjoy that.

Pulling away, Yoongi looked at her with discomfort.

“I know physically I’m more attractive than Y/N, but we don’t have as much history. So the physical attraction should make up the difference for knowing her better. So, what did you think?”

“I didn’t particularly enjoy that,” Yoongi said, rubbing his face.

“Yes I know-wait what?” Madema said, face suddenly very shocked.

“It’s not the same with you. I don’t think it ever will be no matter how much I know you,” he said.

“That’s not factual,” Madema said, fist clenching at her sides.

“Neither is you getting upset by this,” Yoongi pointed out.

“I’m merely trying to show you that I have everything she has! And it’s better! I’m healthier than she is, I’m part of a good family with good genetics, so why not pick me to breed with? With our knowledge put together maybe our child could find a way to save humanity,” she argued.

“I don’t want to have a child with you, I hardly know you,” he said.

“Don’t Uzmanic males have offspring with at least 20 Uzmanic women? Except, you didn’t go to the breeding rituals did you. You’ve had intercourse with your kind but you never impregnated one did you. And now you’re having troubles impregnating Y/N. You said you’ve been trying for months. Uzmanic males are very virile, there shouldn’t be any problems with you getting Y/N, pregnant. And yet, there’s a hiccup in the system isn’t there?”

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating,” Yoongi said, not liking this conversation anymore.

“I’m saying, maybe the problem lies in the pairing. Maybe you aren’t meant to breed with your kind or humans. Maybe you should try getting me pregnant,” she suggested.

“That is horribly thought out,” Yoongi said.

“And yet having a baby with a human isn’t?”

“I think I’d like for you to leave,” Yoongi said.

“Yoongi I’m only trying to go about this logically-”

“I’m tired of listening to you, I may have lost the best person in my life because of you. And I’m not going to take that sitting down. I would like for you to leave. And consider our research null,” he said, walking towards the door.

“You can’t do this!”

“I believe I just did, goodbye Madema,” Yoongi said, heading out to find you.

--

You’d left with barely any money or any of your own stuff. That was a little stupid of you, but it didn’t matter now. You weren’t going anywhere anyways. You gripped your sleeves as you walked through the abandoned streets. You had also been crying on and off since you left. You just wanted Yoongi to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you, protecting you from everything. But he was back with that stupid woman. No doubt continuing your research with her. She’s much prettier anyways...

A sudden churn in your stomach had you vomiting on the side of the road.

However, for some reason, you had this nagging in the back of your head.

‘Get a test.’

‘Get a test.’

You weren’t even sure where to buy a pregnancy test around here, but this feeling inside of you. You had to take one. Now.

So you hurried inside of a local store, looking around and trying to find something that resembled the pregnancy tests you had on Earth. But there wasn’t much that seemed similar.

“Need some help?” a woman behind you asked.

“I-I’m looking for the-ah, pregnancy tests?” you said, wincing as you said it.

“Oh! Right here!” she said, handing you a pink box.

“Lovely, thank you,” you said, moving towards the check out.

Soon you were sat in the bathroom, looking down at the floor waiting for the minutes to be up.

It’s probably negative but you wanted to take one. As you thought about it more, you hadn’t gotten your period yet. Although it wasn’t late by much. But, as you looked at the clock and down to the test... It was enough.

+

The little plus sign looked back at you with almost a grave sense of finality.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, leaning your head back against the wall...

Of course it would happen when you decided to leave him. You were shocked but at the same time, not surprised. You and Yoongi had been having unprotected sex for a while, and you hadn’t been feeling well recently. No doubt you were in the early stages of pregnancy. Looking in the bathroom mirror you lifted your shirt, rubbing your stomach gently...

“Well kid, what are we gonna do now?” you whimpered, the feeling of tears coming over you.

What would Yoongi say if he were here right now?

Would he be happy? Nervous?

You didn’t want to think about it too much. It just made you want to cry harder.

Shuffling your way out of the store you headed towards the outskirts of the city. No doubt there would be beggars there, but you kept your eyes down and head straight forward. There wasn’t much to see out here. Mainly old burnt down buildings and a couple of shacks.

You sat down in an abandoned house, looking around. There wasn’t much left there except a moth eaten blanket and an old couch. A couple broken mirrors and some old furniture also occupied the space. You sighed and went to go sit down.

You laid there for what felt like moments, but soon you saw it was turning dark outside. A chill ran down your spine at the thought of being out here alone. But you weren’t really alone... You rubbed your stomach gently, thinking of your future.

When footsteps alerted you to a new presence.

“W-Who’s there?”

“Y/N?” Yoongi’s voice echoed through the hall.

“Get fucking lost Yoongi, go back to Madema,” you growled, turning your back to him.

“Y/N, please listen to me,” he said, coming closer.

“Don’t, I don’t want to hear it,” you said, already feeling the tears starting.

“Please, I sent her away, she’s already left,” he said, pleading in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter Yoongi, it was clear who you chose,” you said, venom leaking into your tone.

“Y/N, please, I love you,” he said softly, reaching out to take your hand.

His cool hand made you jump lightly, but you couldn’t help how your fingers interlocked with his. He tugged lightly and you were falling back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head slowly.

“I love you,” he whispered, rubbing his head against your cheek. Resting his lips on your shoulder.

You felt yourself melt against him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms once more. The anger and jealousy in your veins was slowly being stamped out. Yoongi’s lips were running along your neck and shoulder line, making you quiver lightly. Quickly, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I love you too,” you said back, tears flowing freely from you.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, petting your head gently.

“I thought you didn’t love me anymore, I thought that it was really over between us. And it killed me inside,” you sobbed, shaking in his grasp.

Yoongi’s heart broke a million times over at your shattered voice. The way you trembled in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve been a horrible partner. I-I can’t apologize enough for my behavior,” he said, wiping away your tears.

“Yoongi,” you whispered, looking down at the floor.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I-I have something to tell you,” you said quietly.

“What is it?” He asked, concern leaking into his voice.

“I’m pregnant,” you said softly.

Yoongi froze in your arms, like a statue. You waited for something, anything to come from him. Although you didn’t expect him to fall to his knees in front of you.

“Yoongi?!” You gasped, moving to catch him but he slipped right through your arms.

“I’m okay,” he said softly, not moving.

“Are you sure?” You asked, putting your hands on his head gently.

“Yes, I’m fine, just... I’m overwhelmed,” he said, pulling you forward by your hips and placing a strong kiss to your stomach.

“Yoongi,” you said, smiling lightly.

“Stars you’re pregnant, Y/N, you’re really pregnant? Did you take a test?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Yes, it wasn’t an expensive one. But, maybe you should do some blood work back in the lab?” you asked.

“Yes, I concur. Let’s go home,” he smiled, moving to stand up. When his legs faltered. You smirked, and helped him stand.

“Come on you big lug, let’s get out of here,” you said, giving him a soft peck on the cheek.

He gave a gummy grin and the two of you walked out of there and back to the spaceship.

--

When Yoongi confirmed your pregnancy about a month ago you couldn’t be happier. The pair of you had laid in bed, looking at your stomach with such love and adoration it made your chest ache. But the longer you went on, the more you realized that you wanted him... Badly. And Yoongi was absolutely oblivious to your desires.

Any time there would be a smidge of sexual tension, Yoongi would simply brush it off. It didn’t seem to affect him one bit. But the longing to be with him, was starting to make you think ridiculous things.

But it was difficult when you didn’t think your partner found you attractive. Was it because you were pregnant? You were barely showing yet. You held your stomach protectively. Already feeling so much love for the being growing inside of you. But Yoongi and you hadn’t had sex since before Madema...

Mind made up, you decided to head towards the lab.

Yoongi had been running all kinds of tests on you and your baby, to ensure you and the child were healthy. But he was always tuned into your needs, at least of this variety, asking if you wanted to stop for the day. If you needed anything and if there was something he could do to lessen the symptoms.

He was so attentive in certain areas of your life that it made your heart stammer with so much love. And then there were the times where he was a complete and utter idiot and it made you want to pummel him into the floor.

Although love is all about that balance.

Walking into the lab you saw Yoongi, head in his notebook sleeping. A smile graced your features as you looked at him. He had a soft pout on his lips that made you want to ravage him even more.

Carefully you walked over and placed a hand on his back. Yoongi groaned softly, wiggling in his seat. You soothed your hands down his back, leaning next to his ear to wake him.

“Yoongi, wake up,” you said, kissing his head.

“Mmm, Y/N,” he mumbled, still in his dream-like state.

“I’m here, come to bed you must be tired,” you said, tugging on his shoulders lightly to get him to stand up. He ignored your pulling, but did open his eyes.

“You’re still awake? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m fine, Yoongi, you don’t have to worry,” you said, smoothing the frown off of his face.

“I just want to make sure,” he said, rubbing his thumbs into your hips lightly. Shortly after he was pulling you into his grasp, his head resting right underneath your breasts.

Softly, you ran your fingers through his hair. He almost purred in satisfaction. You kept moving your digits through the silky strands of his scalp, making him push into you further. A soft laugh escaped you, causing Yoongi to look up at you, blinking slowly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing, just never thought I’d have a baby, let alone with a spaceman,” you said, tugging his ear gently. He whined at your teasing but placed a soft kiss on your stomach.

“I’m glad you did,” he said, nuzzling into your yielding flesh.

“Me too,” you said.

The pair of you stood like that for a few moments. Just enjoying each other's company, no words were needed. It was just the two of you, together. That’s all you’d ever need, it felt like. Yoongi’s hands stayed appropriately at your hips, never dipping further and gripping the globes of your ass like he loved to do when you two were intimate.

Although you hate to ruin such a sweet moment with being horny, it simply couldn’t wait anymore.

“Yoongi?” you asked, voice coming out a little breathless.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes closed as he leaned against you.

“Can we have sex? You know, before I’m the size of a whale and you don’t want to anymore?” you winced.

Yoongi’s grip tightened on your body, pulling away to look at you. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, frowning.

“I-I just want to be intimate with you while we can,” you said, swallowing hard.

“Do you think my attraction for you has a time limit? That I suddenly won’t want you after you’ve given birth?” he asked, standing up to face you.

“I just, y-you haven’t been touching me lately and I assumed it was because of being pregnant-” Yoongi cut you off.

“I always want you,” he said, as if it were obvious. “It’s you who... who doesn’t want me,” he whimpered.

“What?!” you gasped. “What on earth made you think that?”

“We’re not on Earth currently, but I proposed to you, and you rejected it,” he said, looking downcast.

“I don’t ever recall you asking me to marry you,” you gaped.

“In the cafe, I asked you what you thought about marriage,” he argued.

“And then you said whatever I wanted is what you wanted! Yoongi, I never rejected your proposal because I didn’t know what you were asking me,” you said, smoothing your hand over his cheek.

“You said you didn’t want to, and I didn’t want to pressure you,” he said, biting his lip in frustration.

“Yoongi...” you said, watching his face look at you in anguish.

“I always want you... And when Madema came in and started making a mess of everything, when I thought I lost you, oh stars Y/N I’d never felt pain like that. I don’t want to lose you. I want everyone in the galaxy to know you’re mine, and that I’m yours. I even got you a ring, but when you said you didn’t feel like you needed to get married I-I hid it,” he blushed.

He bought a ring?

“What the fuck?!” you screeched, Yoongi flinched in your hold, making your heart lurch from emotion.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say what you wanted? Yoongi, if I had known how much it meant to you-”

“That’s exactly why I can’t, because you’ll do it for me. Not because you want to be my wife,” he breathed. You watched the pain on his face, as he tried to smile through it. “But, I want you in anyway you’ll have me. And if that means I never get to marry you, then that’ll be enough. Being here with you, and our baby, that’s all that matters to me.”

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks. Yoongi pressed soft kisses to your hair, telling you it was okay. That you would always be enough for him. You thought back to the history classes back on Earth. The basis of what marriage was back on your home planet. It was always signified as something necessary if you were going to be matching with someone, that you had to be married and had to make a life with someone you barely knew. But, back before everything went so wrong for humanity, it was supposed to be something done out of love, out of wanting the other person to be wholly yours and to be joined in body and spirit.

Yoongi was offering himself up to you body and spirit and you’d thrown it in the garbage. Your heart ached at the fact you had been so quick to dismiss him. You hadn’t taken what he was asking you seriously and he’d been hurt because of it. Because of you.

“Can I see it?” you asked, pulling away from him and looking up into his watery eyes.

“Huh?” he said, cheeks swollen from tears.

“The ring, can I see it?” you asked. Yoongi’s eyes widened, but he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the small box. He opened the box and waited for your reaction. The band was pure white gold, it was beautiful and sparkling in the light. The band had diamonds running all along it, finishing with a stone that looked like it was made of pure starlight. You’d never seen a gem like it.

“It’s a stone from my planet. I got the diamonds from earth and then I got this from, well... I told you already but, it’s a neuron star stone. It’s the final moments of a dying star, locked into a continuous loop that never ends, capturing the beauty of the moment forever. A moment that will never end, because my love for you will never end,” he croaks.

“You promise?” you asked, looking at the ring with red eyes.

“I promise you, my love for you is eternal and as infinite as the universe,” he said, kissing your lips softly.

“You’re supposed to get on one knee,” you said, giving him a soft smile.

“R-Right!” he said, collapsing to his knees, biting his lips.

“Close enough,” you giggled.

“N-Now what?” Yoongi asked.

“Now you ask,” you said. Yoongi’s face wavered for a second.

“You might say no,” he whispered.

“I might not,” you beamed.

“Y/N, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?” he asked, raising the box towards you with shaky hands.

“Yoongi, I would be absolutely delighted to marry you,” you said, falling to your knees and bringing your now fiance into your arms.

“I love you. I’ll love you until all the stars go black,” he said, kissing you gently. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, just enjoying the feeling of his lips pressed to yours. Yoongi’s thumbs rubbed against your slightly swollen tummy, making you shiver in longing.

“I love you too,” you said as the pair of you pulled apart.

“Can I put it on you?” he asked, gesturing to the ring.

“Please do,” you smiled brightly. Yoongi took your hand, sliding the ring up onto your finger where it sat proudly. Yoongi kissed your hand, and pulled you close once more, breathing in your scent that tended to overwhelm him at times. But now, you just smelt like home. Safe and sound.

You two sat there for a moment or two, just basking in the happiness you’d been granted.

When Yoongi broke the silence.

“Did you say you wanted to have sex?” he asked, hands wandering from their place on your waist to your lower back.

“I-I may have mentioned it, yes,” you said. Yoongi kissed your jaw tenderly, making goosebumps rise up on your skin.

“Would you like to? I researched it, and it’s safe to do during pregnancy,” he said, grinding against you lightly.

“You researched it, huh?” you smirked.

“I was worried that I’d hurt you or the baby if we engaged in sexual intercourse during your pregnancy. Since it was difficult for us to get pregnant I didn’t want to endanger the child or you,” he said, not looking at you directly, but you saw the blush on his hot cheeks.

“You know for some people it takes up to a year of consistent unprotected sex before they get pregnant, I don’t think we had that much trouble. You were just impatient,” you said, pushing his chest lightly.

“I-I, uh... Well,” he coughed, trying to hide his need to be right over his pride.

“You’re such an idiot, come on, let’s go,” you said, holding your hand out after you stood up. Yoongi quirked a brow up at you. “Sex, come on.”

Yoongi was quickly on his feet and heading down the hall, you just giggled and went after him.

--

“Should you-ah! B-Be on your knees like that for so long? Let m-me get you a pillow,” Yoongi said, shuffling around while you had his dick almost balls deep in your mouth.

“Stop moving, I want you to cum in my mouth,” you complained as his wiggling pulled his cock from your warmth. Yoongi got you to kneel on the pillow instead, making him smile in victory.

“Why would I cum in your mouth? When your pussy is wet and waiting for me?” he asked, raising a brow. You swallowed hard at his words, biting your lip before moving closer to pump him a few more times.

“Let me go a little more, just a little longer,” you pleaded. “You got me a pillow and everything.”

“Never said that pillow was for you to keep kneeling on,” Yoongi smirked.

“Gonna fuck me?” you asked, breathless at the thought.

“Yeah,” he growls, kneeling on the floor as well. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his body and kissing your neck and shoulder. You trailed your hands up his waist and tightened on his biceps, grounding yourself to him. Yoongi groaned against your skin when he ground his hard member on your stomach.

“Jesus you’re so hard,” you moaned, taking his member in your hand for a moment.

Yoongi gripped your wrist, not hard but enough to get your attention.

“D-Don’t, if you do that I’ll cum and I want it all inside you,” he groaned. You gently pulled your hand away.

“Then hurry up and put it in me,” you whined, Yoongi looked at you in surprise.

“B-But are you wet enough? I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, kissing your shoulder with a tenderness that was so uniquely him.

“Touch me and find out,” you urged, rutting your hips forward. Yoongi hissed at the friction on his sensitive dick but reached down regardless. You’d already removed your pants, leaving you in your t-shirt and panties. His fingers made their way down your stomach, caressing the skin there lovingly. You smiled before he sunk his digits in your underwear.

Yoongi outright moaned at the sensation of your wet folds soaking his fingers. He pulled his hand out and brought his fingers to his tongue, sucking the slick off himself. Quickly you connected your mouths and eagerly tasted yourself on his lips.

“Bend over,” Yoongi growled, looking down at your drenched panties. You did as he asked, using the pillow under your knees to cushion your elbows. Yoongi palmed the flesh of your ass, watching with rapt attention as your center clenched around nothing.

You turned around and looked at him over your shoulder, sending him a daring gaze that made his cock throb even harder. Yoongi moved closer, pulling your panties to the side and stared at your wet pussy with raging desire.

“Take me, I’m yours, always,” you said, leaning your head down on the floor and raising your ass higher in the air.

“Fuck,” he moaned, taking his length in his hand before guiding it inside you with little hesitation. You cried out at the thickness filling you so suddenly, but you relished in the slight burn. Yoongi gripped your hips and helped pull you back a little further, finally sinking inside of you all the way.

“Oh shit, Yoongi,” you whimpered, feeling so stuffed.

“I’m not gonna last, fuck, fuck!” he snarled, leaning forward and bucking into you at the same time.

“Don’t want you too, just want your cum. Want you so deep, please,” you cried, reaching back for him. Yoongi’s hand intertwined with yours, locking you both into the solid rhythm he carried.

“You feel so good, Y/N, so good around me,” he whimpered, hitting that spot inside you that made stars dance across your vision.

You knew being pregnant made you sensitive, but were you feeling this way because you were pregnant? Or was it because of the man you were making love to? You felt the raw emotion climbing up your throat at the thought of marrying him, birthing his child and living together happily. It was everything you’d ever wanted and more.

Yoongi wasn’t good at emotions. No Uzmanic was, but, this feeling between the two of you right now? It was the most precious gift, beside the child nestled deep inside you, that you’d given him. The ability to love, the ability to be vulnerable and not have to be right all the time. It was so perfect, because it was yours. It was the love of the two of you combined that had made the being inside of you that already made his heart weep with joy.

Uzmanics were aloof creatures.

They valued logic and reason above all else.

But Yoongi found that you were his reason. Not in the logical sense, but in the physical sense. You were his reason to get up, to continue on, to be the best version of himself that there could be. You made him want to try.

The burning sensation in his eyes made him confused.

Was he crying?

Now?

Apparently he was.

“Oh-Yoongi, what’s wrong?” you asked, gasping a little as another harsh thrust came from him.

“I-I love you, so much,” he hiccuped, picking you up by your shoulders and molding your back to his front as he hammered into you faster.

“I-shit! I love you too, more than anything,” you said, breathless as he continued to pound into your sweet cunt faster and faster.

“I can’t hold it, I’m gonna cum. Want you to cum with me,” he said, breathing harsh into your ear.

“Yeah, wanna cum too. Just give me a little help,” you encouraged, placing one of his hands on your lower stomach and the other on your clit. Yoongi got the message and started rubbing your engorged pearl desperately. Like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

“Fuck, baby, cumming. Gonna cum,” he cried, burying his face in your neck and pistoning his hips faster inside of you. It almost hurt how hard he was going, but the burn was delicious as you felt sparks shoot up your spine as he played with your clit.

“In me, want it in me. Fill me up baby, come on,” you encouraged, locking your hand behind his head.

“Oh shit! Y/N!” he sobbed, hips stopping as jets of his hot seed filled you to the brim. His fingers didn’t stop on your clit, however, and soon after you were falling off the precipice yourself.

“Yoongi!” you shivered, body hot and sticky all over.

Soon, his length softened and he pulled it out of you with a little hiss. You fell forward, catching yourself on your elbows on the pillow. Yoongi fussed, bringing you into his arms. Carefully, he lifted you up and placed you in bed, walking to go get something to clean you up with.

Yoongi came back with a pair of boxers on and a wet cloth for you. Unconsciously, he placed a pillow under your hips, urging you to relax before stopping in his tracks.

“I-I guess you don’t have to anymore, if you don’t want to...” he murmured.

“It’s cute,” you smirked.

Soon after, you were both wrapped up in bed. Yoongi kissed your forehead softly, looking at you with nothing but love and adoration. Giving him a delicate peck on the mouth you closed your eyes and smiled briefly, this... This is love.

--

The night sky was always the prettiest right after a storm.

It seemed like the stars shined brighter that way.

You stood outside, wrapped in a shawl while staring up at the sky. You heard the sounds of your husband calming your distressed daughter. Yoongi was in love the moment she was born, and hardly slept the first few weeks because all he wanted to do was watch her.

Shortly, you heard your daughter’s cries calm and the door to her nursery shut.

The distinct sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs echoed through the sleepy night.

Warmth enveloped you as you looked up at the sky once more.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“It is,” Yoongi said, also looking up.

“I’m sorry I took you from it, for wanting us to raise Mae here,” you whispered.

“I’m not sorry. It’ll be good for her to have some stability when she’s little. Maybe when she’s older we can take her for a trip, I’m not worried about it,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“You’re so sweet to me,” you smiled, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’ve given me everything, I think I can be sweet to you in return,” he smiled.

“Remember when you asked me to come with you that night? I was crying like an idiot and you touched my boob by accident,” you laughed. Yoongi’s cheeks blossomed in embarrassment.

“I thought you were dying! What was I supposed to do?”

“Not accidentally grope me,” you chuckled. “I’m so glad I went with you.”

“Me too,” he agreed, kissing your lips.

You fell into the rhythm of connecting like it was second nature. Your daughter was barely a month old but you feel like you hadn’t had him in ages.

“You know, I was terrified the last time I stood here,” he said, holding you.

“Why?”

“Remember that Uzmanics can see visions and other people's emotions? Even if you don’t want us to see them, we will. Unless we build up a tolerance and can effectively block that line,” he explained. “That night, I saw you holding a baby that looked Uzmanic. You weren’t consciously thinking about it. But, your heart was. And now we’re here. With our baby, and she’s so perfect. So utterly perfect, and healthy. All thanks to you,” he breathed, kissing your lips again.

“Well, it takes two,” you smirked.

“I’m happy to be of service,” he smiled.

“I’m sure,” you laughed.

The pair of you looked up at the sky, and suddenly, bright flashes of light came raining down.

“Shooting stars!” you cried, looking at them in wonder. “Quick you have to make a wish!” you said, holding his hand.

“I don’t need to,” Yoongi said. “I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted and more... Right here, with you.”

This gave you pause.

“I have one wish. That our daughter will grow up healthy and strong and help lead humanity to a better tomorrow,” you said.

“That’s a big job for a little girl,” Yoongi commented, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“She can do it, I know she can,” you encouraged.

“If anyone could, it’d be her.”

“Still don’t have a wish?” you asked.

“Maybe one,” he smiled.

“Hmm, what is it?” you asked.

“Another baby, with you,” he said, blushing cutely.

“I guess that can be arranged. Maybe when she’s a little older?” you teased.

“Maybe. But I don’t see the harm in practicing,” he said, pushing into your personal space hotly.

“I’m sure you don’t,” you laughed.

“Perhaps another one then. I want our daughter to find love, like we did,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “One that’ll be there, even if all the stars go black.”

You smiled then, kissing him passionately in the cornfield where it all started. With just the light of the stars illuminating you, you found peace. Because the love you shared, was wider than the cosmos above.

The Impossible Order | Ch. 3

Summary line: Mr. Min is a stoic boss who will never outwardly show appreciation for you. Not until you’re gone does he recognize how much you do. And what you do matters to him.

ceo!Yoongi | best.friend!Hoseok | romance, fluff, angst, and stuff

Loosely inspired by Secretary Kim and this third bullet point of the prompt list

Start from the beginning | Last chapter

~•~

Yoongi never got a reply from you last night, but he did receive the reports at 4 in the morning. He walks in the office by 6:30 but your desk obviously has not been touched since yesterday afternoon. He tilts his head and walks into his office. Nope, you’re not there either. But his cup of coffee is.

He sits down to look at the coffee and look around. No one is here. No one is out there. He takes the cup of coffee and takes a sip. Yup, that’s the one. Quad venti vanilla latte. Two espresso shots in the bottom, two espresso shots on the top. Soy milk. Sugar-free vanilla syrup. No foam. Chocolate drizzle with latte art of a star. But it’s warm; and not quite right.

Yoongi hears a knock on the door and he sets down his coffee cup, “Come in.”

“Hey, Yoongs.” Seokjin greets him, awfully and scarily cheerful for a truly early morning.

“What’s up with your attitude? And why are you here?” Seokjin doesn’t need to come in until 8:30.

“Well. Considering that I got absolutely no sleep last night, gathering the reports and data for your board meeting today, I’d say I’m positively chipper. And don’t you dare call it an attitude, or else I’m gone for the rest of the day too. I’ll show you attitude.”

“What are you talking about? Where’s Y/N? You didn’t send me the reports. She did. You brought the coffee? What do you mean ‘gone too’? What’s going on?” Yoongi gets more and more heated per question. And, where is she?

“Woah. Slow down, man. Relax. Take a sip of the coffee.”

“No thanks. Something’s wrong with it.” Yoongi sits back and laces his fingers together, staring at the cup as if it were a disease.

“Oh. Well I reheated one of them that was still in the fridge. Maybe it’s not the same overnight.” Seokjin taps his chin, turning his head to look over to the fridge, “Probably should toss the rest of them then.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She emailed me last night. She told human resources that she’s taking a month off, for now. She doesn’t know if she’ll extend that to an entire sabbatical. I’m taking over for her for the rest of the week. Next week, she will have her intern replace her for the time being. Lucky for me, it’s already Thursday.” Seokjin turns on his tablet and opens his mouth, ready to jump into the reports with Yoongi, but Yoongi cuts him off before he even starts.

“What happened? Why is she taking a month off? Who’s her intern? Why didn’t she contact me?”

“Didn’t she? Check your emails. Maybe you missed it? Her intern’s name is Jeon Jungkook. He’s pretty green, but he’s been trained by her, so he’ll be fine.” But Yoongi already wasn’t listening about the intern. He looks through his emails, everything has already been read. Nothing from you. Nothing for him. And sure enough, the reports were sent by Seokjin.

He leans back roughly and takes a deep breath. Seokjin raises his eyes at Yoongi’s furrowed ones.

“Wait. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Because if she’s not here, it’s bad.”

~•~

You’re back at the hospital after going home to change and take a shower. You notified the school of Hoseok’s accident and his dance team as well. His director contacted you and told you that they decided to go with the track that you let Hoseok present to him yesterday. But his director asked for a few adjustments.

While you sit by Hoseok’s hospital bed, you bring your music equipment with you to work on the track for his showcase. Every once in a while, you get up to check in on Hoseok.

While you work on the track, you hear the door open. You turn around and see a gang of students peering in.

“We want to see Mr. Jung. We’re his dance class.” One of the girls says quietly. You nod and take your laptop up and bring your equipment by the window as his students walk in one by one. Looks like the nurse is only allowing a few at a time because the rest are still standing outside.

“What happened to him?” One of his female student’s sniffs.

“Car accident. He was heading home from the vet.” Your words trail off quieter every word. Reminding yourself that he’s here because of you.

“Vet? Was he taking Yeontan?” She asks.

“Yeah. How do you know Yeontan?”

“He shows us so many videos of you and your dog.” One of the students pipe up. Oh, Hoseok.

There’s a knock on the door and one of the students outside pops his head in, “Is it our turn now?”

“Yeah.” The students in the room shuffle on out.

“Who’s she?” One of the students ask the girl who was leaving.

“Mr. Jung’s girlfriend.” Wait, what?

“Oh!” As the next line of students file in, you see everyone intently stare at you as they come in and gather around Hoseok to see him. One of the girls sets down flowers by his bedside table.

“Um. Excuse me.” You whisper for their attention, “Where did you get the impression that I’m his girlfriend?” The students look at each other

“He shows us a lot of pictures and videos of you and your dog. And he always talks about you. We just figured.” The girl shrugs. The rest of the students raises eyebrows at her, and she just shrugs back at them.

“Oh. Okay.” You let it go after that. Verbally, at least. Your head was spinning. He apparently talks about you and Yeontan too much if he’s leaving that kind of impression.

~•~

After visiting hours were over, you headed over to pick up Yeontan.

When you get home, you have him cradled into your lap, humming soft and gentle tunes.

You open your laptop to continue working on the track. But you eye the number of emails popping up on the email icon. You sigh and click it open. 14 emails from Seokjin, 10 emails from multiple departments, 2 from human resources, and 26 from Mr. Min, 3 from Jungkook. You raise your eyebrows at the number of emails from your boss. You read your boss’ emails first. All titled “Your absence”; a constant thread. You decided to just read his last one and just go up the chain.

-          Why are you taking off a month?

-          Are you out of the country or just off?

-          Seokjin is an idiot. What exactly did you tell him do while you’re gone? He’s not doing it right.

-          The coffee in the fridge is bad now. Tell Seokjin to get the right one.

-          Please tell Seokjin where you get the coffee.

-          He doesn’t know where you get the coffee

-          I swear to God, if he doesn’t get the coffee, I’m firing him.

-          He’s got me drinking black coffee for now. It still tastes funny. Is this our office coffee?

-          Why are you taking a month off?

-          Why are you blocking my texts and calls?

You can’t help but feel amused at these emails. It’s been a long time since he’s spoken to you like this. You blocked his calls and texts since last night out of impulse, to be honest. Knowing him, he’ll still contact you on your time off. It’s understandable, considering the situation and environment that you were in at the time, but you should really unblock him; it’s kind of unprofessional. Even if he is. As you continue his emails, notifications pop up every time you open another one, showing your boss your read receipts. Wow.

-          Japan will be flying in tomorrow as we go through the jewelry fundraising dinner for the Children’s Home Project.

-          Will you be here for the fundraising?

-          Does this mean you won’t be attending the Queen’s Jubilee either? Or the Taehyung unveiling?

-          Do you really have to take a month off? Can you be back this week?

-          I’m getting pissed at your “I’m currently out of the office” replies.

You shake your head as his emails get more and more intrusive. Asking about the days taken off, telling you that it’s very unprofessional to not reply and block him even if you are currently off. Well it’s unprofessional and intrusive to harass your employee who’s currently on PTO; and one with long overdue vacation time, at that.

You don’t reply to his email just yet. You check in on other emails. The multiple departments apparently were directed by Mr. Min to provide you an update after every meeting or conversation made so you stay in the loop. Human resources checked in on your PTO requests, your intern’s temporary role, and apparently Mr. Min requested that they contacted you about your reasons for leave of absence. Seokjin also provided you an hourly update, at your request though, but every email ended with something regarding the coffee. His latest one seemed desperate.

-          He said he’d fire me, Y/N. Please.

You snort. Like Mr. Min would ever fire Seokjin. You can recall at least 15 times where Mr. Min threatened to fire Seokjin.

Your third email last night was to Jungkook, notifying him to take up the job while you’re gone. You sent him damn near everything that happened in the past month. He just needs to go down the list of documents you mapped out in terms of routine, importance, current projects, and the like. His latest however was inquired by Seokjin to see if he knew where you get Mr. Min’s coffee.

You straighten up your back, pop your elbows and knuckles, and cracked your neck. You look down at Yeontan, curled up and resting in your lap.

“Yeontan. Help.” His steady breaths just remind you that he’s in need of rest more than you. And with Hoseok in the hospital, you’re the last one who needs a break right now.

“Right.” You exhale a breath of resolve and start typing away.

~•~

Seokjin breathes through his last meeting with Yoongi for the day. He finally leans back on his chair and exhales loudly.

“What?” Yoongi snaps. Black coffee is not enough for him, that’s for sure.

“Being your assistant is not easy, man.”

“Having you as my assistant is no picnic either. Can’t even make a decent cup of coffee.”

“She said she’ll give Jungkook the coffee secret. You’ll have it next week.” Yoongi loosens his tie and glares at his emails. For the past two days, you don’t reply to him. He sees your read receipts and he’s only received one reply to you on his latest email on his thread. I’m currently out of the office right now. Ask Seokjin. In terms of the more personal ones, like why you’re gone, you just leave a vague, I need to take care of some personal things.

“Y/N has never been so irresponsible before. It’s throwing me off.” Yoongi expresses out loud. Seokjin’s head was rolled back over the chair but he lifts it up to stare at him, “She’s doing a pretty badass job if you’re asking me. Everything is nearly taken care of before the next morning. All we have to do is show up and report to you everything. You don’t see our emails, but she leaves a very detailed response.”

“So why doesn’t she respond to me?!” Seokjin raises his eyebrows at Yoongi’s raised voice, as well as the newly provided information.

“She doesn’t reply to you? I got a response in every one of my emails.”

“Let me see.” Yoongi stands up from his chair to walk around to Seokjin as he takes out his phone to show him one of your latest emails. As Seokjin is your witness, your emails are nearly step by step. You’ve looped Seokjin into all the emails you’ve received from the other departments, replying to Seokjin and the departments at the same time on next steps.

“If she’s replying to all of us in the same detailed manner, there’s probably no need to respond to yours because we’re the ones who will directly notify you. She’s currently off right now, man. Right now, it’s not her job to answer you, it’s ours. You probably ask the same things we are. Plus, after all of this, I’m sure she needs a break.”

Well. Seokjin’s reports and questions are actually pretty valid. Most of Yoongi’s are simply, why are you gone, and, when are you coming back? So far, the work-related questions can be answered through Seokjin. But that might be because you’re coaching their words.

Yoongi scratches his head as he walks around his office.

Seokjin looks at him before standing up, “Come on. You need to eat.”

~•~

You enter Hoseok’s home with his spare key he provided you. While he’s in the hospital, you figure you can help him house sit. You drag all of Yeontan’s things into the house. You exhale out of exhaustion and collapse on the floor after you’ve taken your shoes off. After taking a minute to breathe and rest, you pick yourself off from the floor and ready to bring Yeontan and your items with you.

What surprises you is the number of dog-related items he has. He has the same dog bowl dispenser as you, a doggy bed. Chew toys and dog bones stray around the living room floor. How many times has he dog sat for you?

“Well, I guess I won’t be needing these, huh, Yeontan?” Yeontan yips and trots over to his bed and lays in it. He’s more familiar with the lay of the land than you are. You’re slightly annoyed that you brought all of this over without knowing you didn’t even have to in the first place. But you halt your annoyance when something dawns on you. I never really noticed how much Hoseok does for me…do I?

You drag yourself over to sit on his couch, watching Yeontan drag the stuffed chew toy over to his bed and wrestles with it. Yeontan is so at home here. And you’re still sitting up straight on his couch. Whereas if he were over at your place right now, his feet are already up on the couch. You feel so foreign here.

You get up from the couch and decide to explore everything. Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom.

His kitchen sink is clear, but he piles every dish he ever owns up in the drying rack, rather than drying them and putting them back up in the drawers. His fridge is adequately stocked but it looks like some stuff was recently bought. Some raw meat is in the fridge is starting to brown. I’ll have to make a note to help him clean his fridge out.

He has a modest little dining table which one side is pushed against the wall across from the kitchen. Three chairs take up each side, with two chairs pushed out, obviously frequently used. One of them is obviously Hoseok’s, but the other has a very tall and fluffy sitting cushion. Wonder whose that for. Lined and stacked against the wall are the pile of snacks you remember that he and you practically survived on during college. Heh, he still eats those?

You pull out his chair further to sit down. You hear Yeontan scamper over and hop up on the chair with the fluffy cushion, conditioned to expect a piece of meat from whatever dinner Hoseok cooked up.

“You’re a spoiled, little rascal, aren’t ya?” You ruffle Yeontan’s fur before playfully tapping his nose. You grab a bag of chips and open it up as you keep moving.

His bathroom is pretty well kept. A lavender-scented bathroom. Now that you think about it, lavender scented home. His personal hygiene items are hidden behind the mirror storage cabinet, but on the sink platform, he has a doggy toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as dog soap and hair brush.

“You really have everything, don’t you, Hoseok?” You mumble to yourself. You smile at the how caring your best friend is. You don’t deserve him, really.

He’s only one guy, so he only has one room. You don’t think he’ll mind you using his room for the time being. You open the door to see the heart of Hoseok. His furniture is light and made of bamboo. It’s very reflective of his clean, gentle, and peaceful nature. If you had to compare Hoseok to anything, it would be bamboo. Light, strong, and giving. He brings a sense of calmness to you.

Your hands glide over the smooth wardrobe over to his bookshelf, but he seems to collect more trinkets than books. You note his stuffed animals, empty cologne bottle, three different books that you’ve recommended to him, his first pair of dance shoes when he got his first real dance gig…you’ve given him all these things.

As a pattern starts to form, you look around the room. Pictures of you two together. In the drama team in college where you two met, his first dance performance, your first mixer, etc. Important memories.

You look back at his trinkets. You gave him that cologne bottle after college. It’s empty now, but he hasn’t thrown it away. You won that stuffed animal at the fair when he failed the fair game. You gave that to him.

“Hoseok…” Your heart clenched as you read the implications of this room and the rest of his house.

He loves you. And you’ve been far too stupid.

~•~

You dart out of his house for a moment and take a second to compose yourself. Yeontan is left behind the door, yipping for his owner to return into this sanctuary which the homeowner will envelop his owner with love.

Your poor, dear friend. How long? For why?

You love your friend immensely, but how could you possibly be so blind to how he felt about you? You love your friend, and yet you find the largest gap between how he treats you and you treat him. You should be ashamed and guilty. But should you? He is free to love you as much as you are free to not reciprocate. But that doesn’t mean lead him on; or take advantage of him. But that would require your acknowledgement of his feelings for you, which you never have until now. Did you even? You can’t come up with a single moment in time where you believe you may have led him on. Have you taken advantage of him? Sure. Loads of times, but it was never based on his love. It was a best friend who knew exactly what you need, when you need it, and prepared to provide. You never thought of it beyond such.

I can’t be guilty if I never knew. You tell yourself. But really? Are you sure you never had a clue?

**

“Hoseok! Help meeeee!” You groan as you hit your head down to the book opened up on the table.

Hoseok comes flying in with a plastic bag and a carton tray with boba, “I’ve brought refreshments!”

As soon as the bag drops in front of you, you face lights up and you cry in relief.

“Wait,” he pulls the food away from you as you whine, “You’re not to be distracted. This is your last final, and I’ll be damned if you fail general. This is your last hurdle before your dad finally agrees to you becoming a music producer.”

“I can’t focus, man! And yeah, it’s easy. It really is. But I’m ready to be done. To be out there!” you gesture dramatically outside to the window, “I want to be part of that world!”

“And you will. After tomorrow. You’re telling me, you really can’t buckle down one more night. You’re at the last leg of the finish line.” Hoseok pokes the boba lid for you and hands it over.

“It’s that thing where you’re just ready to be done. It makes me restless.” You whine, but your whine turns into sounds of content as you sip through the straw.

“Y/N. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna get through this. You’re gonna get an A…and if you can get through this last study session and ace the final, I’ll take you to Moonshine.” He bribes.

Your eyes widen before you squint in disbelief, “Moonshine? Michelin-star restaurant, Moonshine? You’re not serious.”

“Yes, I am. I’ll break all my piggy banks if it will get you to study properly.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, all 15. I’ve been saving them since I was 5.”

“That’s so cute!”

“Ok. Enough. Study.” You really thought he was joking, but you still buckled down, moved enough by his sincerity alone.

**

“Come on, Y/N. It’s ok.” Hoseok soothes your back as your hysterical sobs echo through the courtyard.

“Physics. General physics. I barely passed in high school and now I’ve even failed.” You wipe your tears and blow your nose, “My chance to even land a decent career is over. I’m gonna be working a fast food chain now.”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down. It’s not that serious. It’s one class. This is your sophomore year. You’re telling me that one general physics class, physics in which your career path is nowhere near close to requiring it, will need you to ace general physics? My dad says that all jobs need is a degree, not the classes you take.”

“Yeah, well my dad says no music. What future do I have now? I’m so stupid.” Hoseok stays quiet for a moment, knowing that a deal is a deal, and you take those pretty seriously.

“Y/N. Your future is not over. Your future is so bright, it’s surprisingly brighter the sun. You may not be able to do music as a career, but don’t you ever let that get in the way of the passion you actually have. That, your dad can never take away from you. And if you lose making music, that’s worse than never having a job to do so in the first place. Your passion is what keeps your days from being gray. So, you need to hold on to it. Like I will always hold on to you.” Hoseok wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you sob into his neck.

“That’s it. There you go. All over the neck. That’s right. Mmm, just like that.” Hoseok teases. You start laughing and crying at the same time, “Stop it, it sounds so weird.”

“Can’t be weirder than the feeling of someone’s tears and snot on my neck.” Hoseok says when you pull away, wiping his neck. He stands up and brings you up too, brushing your hair to look less like the nest it is, “Come. Dress yourself to the nines, Y/N! I’m taking you to Moonshine.”

“We really don’t have to do that. Let’s wait until we get ourselves our first real jobs first. I’m good with going anywhere. Let’s just grab some chicken and beer.”

“Nah, nah, nah. My girl deserves the best. And I’m ready. My piggy banks are all broke now. We’re going.”

“Hey Hoseok,” your inquiry halts his attempts to skip across the courtyard with you, “You didn’t really break piggy banks that you’ve had since you were five, did you? I didn’t even get an A.”

“Yup. But I was going to take you no matter what grade you got anyway.” He said, enunciating the p. You pout and bury yourself in his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you and starts laughing when he hears you sniffling, “Don’t cry, Y/N. It’s just money. Money does not grow on trees, but it’s not gone forever too. It’s fine. And this is important. You’re sad and that’s not okay with me.” You wrap your arms around his waist and start bawling.

“Hoseok!” you literally cry out his name and he laughs as he pets your head, shushing you to calm down.

“You’re the most adorable human being on earth.” You hiccup, pulling away from his chest.

“I’d beg to differ. You’ve never met yourself, have you?” He tilts his head to look at you, “You’re worth it, love.” He kisses you on the forehead before pulling you for another tight hug.

**

You clutch your chest as pain flows from your heart to your eyes. You’re absolutely disgusted with yourself right now. To be so blind. Or, if not blind, ignorant. Probably willfully ignorant. It’s easier to be okay with the things he does for you if you don’t recognize the underlying reasons.

Did you ever like him? Of course.

Like that? Possibly.

Did you love him? Of course.

Like that?

   Probably not.

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