Missing Yoongi Hours - Tumblr Posts

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Purple Yoongi moodboard 💜

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DIS-EASE BTS @ Permission to Dance in Los Angeles (2021)

SUGA | Agust D TOUR 'D-DAY' The Original SPOT #1

400 days before yoongi is back [congrats guys we're entering 300s]

Lights Out, Words Gone

[yoongi x reader] [1.4k+ friends to lovers, light angst]

A/N: So, there was an attempt, by me. Heh. I'm just really trying to get back into creative writing. I used to enjoy writing, but no one told me that turning that into a career and years of writing newsletters and articles for corporate dulls the mind and at this point, even journaling feels like a chore. But if you found this fic and somewhat enjoyed it, I'm grateful.

-

It's ridiculous, you think to yourself. How can someone be easily disarmed by a smile?

One minute, you're furiously driving at 2 a.m. to fetch Yoongi from a dive bar—miles and hours from where you live so you're well within reason to cuss him out; the next, you're giggling next to him after he told you the lamest joke you've ever heard.

"Y/N, what did the full glass of water say to the empty glass of water?"

In no mood for his shenanigans, you slide the bottle of water you bought during the drive over, closer to him. Unperturbed, he continues with a grin, "You look drunk."

You let out an annoyed sigh. The joke doesn't even make sense, and yet, because it's Yoongi's gummy smile and his contagious giggles that echo across the empty chairs and fills the bar, your mood shifts.

Suddenly, you snort a laugh. Hearing your amusement, his giggles turn into hearty laughs, and you follow.

Yoongi catches his breath after a minute and fluffs his hair. Suddenly, he looks so soft and cuddly. You feel your breath winded.

Feeling compelled to break the silence, you tease, "Did you steal that joke from Jin?" You don't wait for an answer. You usher Yoongi out of the corner of the bar he hid himself in and he lets you push him out as he weakly argues, "Did not. I thought of it myself. I can make funny jokes too, you know." You hum in response, amused by the pout forming on his face.

-

Yoongi trudges straight to his bedroom as soon as you arrive in his place. You follow, wanting to at least make sure he's tucked in with a bucket on his side of the bed—a precaution, lest he hurls his guts in bed, which rarely happens. But better to be safe than sorry.

You eye Yoongi as he grabs a shirt from his drawer and take that as your cue to leave.

"Stay the night," his voice gravelly. You stop mid-journey out the door.

What.

"Uh, Yoongi—"

"It's too late to drive," he crosses the room and pulls your hand to take his shirt. "And if you think I'm letting you take the couch, I'm offended. Sleep here."

A beat passes. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he winks.

Right. As if you'd forget. You remember all too well how Yoongi gets needy and cheesy when drunk—which is why you hesitate. You need to distance yourself before your feeling overwhelms you and make you do something you would regret.

"Remember hell weeks shared in Jin's fancy dorm room? You snored like a fucking berserk honking truck," he chuckles, probably remembering those younger versions of you whose only problems were exams and thesis defense.

The nostalgia hits you, and you quip, "Ya! I remember Jungkook and I pulling an all-nighter for all those times. It was actually you who loudly snored."

Yoongi erupts in soft gummy giggles as you playfully give him the stink eye.

-

Laying stiff beside him, you almost succeed in willing your mind to slip into dreamland when you hear comforters shuffling until you feel him closer to you.

"You awake?" he faces you. "I am now," you huff. You open your eyes to adjust to the dim room, the only light source coming from the street lamp post outside his bedroom window and the tiny static light of your charging phone on the bedside table.

"I just…" he starts, "I wanted to thank you for picking me up. The guys were either out of town or probably too deep in their sleep to hear their phones ring."

"Yes, well… I was on the other side of the town and deep in sleep when you called." You weren't sure what your point was. Probably wanted him to know that you know he definitely did not call anyone else but you tonight.

But of course, he knows that you know. He knows he can't bullshit you. Not when you used to spend every waking moment since you met in college, which was almost 24/7, since you barely slept then. Years of friendship synced you together—getting used to one's idiosyncrasies, being able to read each other across the room, and sharing the same opinion on all things you deemed important.

"And yet you still came. I'm surprised you actually picked up after weeks of radio silence."

Yoongi starts to pick at his nails, his anxiety peaking. Atuned to even his habits, your hands reach to envelop his and you rest your cheeks atop.

"I actually thought it was one of my booty calls," you joke. He doesn't laugh or react, so you turn serious, "I'm your friend, of course, I'll come get you."

Always.

You smile at him, "It actually wasn't a bother. Get some rest, Yoongi." Thinking you ended the conversation, he suddenly confronts you, "You say that but you suddenly cut me off. Why?"

Ah.

Now, you consider if he orchestrated the whole thing. Trying to corner you so he could finally confront you. It wouldn't be out of his character.

You unclasp your hands.

"I didn't cut you off," you lamely defend yourself and hope he lets it go.

Again, this is Yoongi who's calling you out. You can't evade him just like he can't bullshit you. So he holds out.

"Right. So you suddenly dodging my calls and missing weekly hangouts when I'm available to join, is what? Coincidence?" His voice remains calm, but you would miss how it sounds heavier if you hadn't known him for years. Each word is weighed down with pent-up emotion, and now those fueled words hit you like bricks.

"I've gotten busy. Everyone did after graduation." A half lie, half truth.

He shifts a bit closer to you. "You know, even in the dark, I can tell when you're lying, right? I may not see how your eyes get shifty, but your voice has that lilt at the end when you speak. Almost as if you're also trying to make yourself believe in your lie."

You can already feel the onset of a headache from your lack of sleep, but what's more pressing is how your heart dreads being this close to him again, even more so now that you're being called out and you have no excuse. At least nothing good enough to pass Yoongi.

As the minute passes, the silence thickens, and you feel yourself growing even more tired. It could be from the drive, lack of sleep, or that you just fucking had the most mentally-draining shift just hours before that you finally resigned with honesty. Besides, now that you take a glance at his curled-up form beside you, you admit that he, at least, deserves to know why you distanced yourself.

Yoongi has been your best friend for years—the one who made sure to look into your eyes as he encouraged you to take the extra classes because if you thought it would help you secure the job of your dreams, then he believed it would pay off in the end, and you needed to believe that, too.

Yoongi, who held your hand when you went through mental and emotional hurdles. You honestly believe you wouldn't be here now, living and breathing, had it not been for him.

If only the way you looked at him stayed the same, and how his hands felt in yours remained unnoticed, like those days when he held you as you hurled your guts at bar restrooms after chugging down cheap vodka and beers.

If only your affection towards Yoongi didn't root themselves in what you thought was your uninhabitable heart and grow its tendrils over the years of laughing, crying, and sharing even the most mundane moments with him.

And so you will be honest, but you don't know where to start other than offering an apology.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi. I fucked up," tears brim your eyes but you look at him. You let your repressed emotions out and they're coming out all at once, and you're getting overwhelmed. But you need him to know.

He has to know.

Yoongi doesn't respond but motions for you to continue. It's his turn to take your cold hand and warms it between his calloused palms.

You glance at your hands, then at him in the dark and it is during this delicate moment that you let it out, "I seem to have fallen in love with you."

How cliche, you rebuke yourself. Cringing a bit at how you phrased your confession.

You hear him let out a — was it out of relief or disappointment, you're unsure.

You shift your eyes to the window behind him and get a glimpse of the rising sun. The aura of the sunrise breaking the dark blue night sky.

You don't know how many seconds, minutes passed. Yoongi remains silent.

Oh god. Surely this can't be a good thing.

You should leave now.

Unwillingly, you pry your hands away, but before you could even move another muscle, Yoongi finally breaks his silence,

"Then I fucked up, too."

-

>> Read Lights Out, Words Spill

Lights Out, Words Spill

[yoongi x f!reader] [1k+ smut; friends to lovers; part 2 of Lights Out, Words Gone]

This is for the lovelies who made sure to comment and let me know how much they loved reading LOWG—Thank you so much! Also, a quick note, I revised the first part a bit. It's still the same story but with better wording?, I guess. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as the first part!

-

You never thought you'd cross the line between best friends and lovers. But to be fair, you didn't think you would fall in love with your best friend either.

Despite how likely and predictable movies make it seem to be.

Another thing that movies get wrong is how easygoing and blissful the aftermath would be when, in truth, it's anything but easy. Sure, you already know each other like the back of your hands, but being together together, there are expectations, and suddenly, you don't know how to act around Yoongi.

"Stop squirming," Yoongi mumbles, his voice still laden with sleep. "Sorry," you whisper, "actually can you…" your voice trails off, body squirming away from Yoongi's arms.

Blinking awake, Yoongi raises his head as you get out of his bed. "Something wrong?"

Your escape to the bathroom stalled; you turn towards him, "No, everything's fine. I'm gonna take a shower," you lie.

Yoongi sits up. "Great! I'll join you."

"What?" You stutter. "Why? Why would you… you can't come." Your hands make quick work to push him back to his bed.

"You're acting like I haven't seen you naked before," he teases. "But fine, if you're not comfortable showering together yet, I'll stay here." Yoongi sits back on the bed and smiles at you.

Then with a last quip, "Like a good boy."

You roll your eyes and make sure he hears the click of the lock.

Only then do you let your knees buckle.

Fuck Min Yoongi.

-

Overthinking in the shower, you decided you had to talk with Yoongi. As elated as you are that he feels the same, you needed the affirmation that it was not drunk words or an attempt to get back at you for giving him the cold shoulder. Not that you think he would be that petty, but still, you needed assurance.

So, here you both are, sitting across from each other.

"Y/N, if I was vague last night," he starts, "then let me make it clear to you now: I like hearing you snore,"

You scowl, mouth ready to spit a rebuttal.

"Because it means you're in bed next to me. I like holding your hand and cramming in tiny bar restrooms with you when you get drunk so I can keep you safe. And I like that you still worry over me when it's my turn to get shitfaced drunk because then you're coming home with me. There are many things I like about you, some of which you may or may not like about yourself, but all of those accumulated over time, and well, here we are."

You're stunned. What do you say after that? Sure, you wanted to know his feelings for you, but you did not expect Min Yoongi to say something like THAT.

You look at Yoongi and realize he's wearing his heart on his sleeve.

This is him, learning your language so he makes sure you understand and believe that he loves you.

"That was," you gulp. "That was a good speech."

Yoongi looks scandalized. "A good speech? I bare my feelings to you, and you give me a pat on the back."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how to respond."

"How about telling me what you love about me, too, hmm?" He's now using his old man voice. It usually makes you laugh, but now it sounds like you're being reproached by an elderly.

You laugh in disbelief. "It won't be as long," you lie. And it fuels the fire. You're full-on bickering now. Pointless arguments are thrown around the room, but nothing is loaded with malice. "Ya! You even said it was fucked up to fall in love with me," Yoongi pouts.

You're quick to defend yourself, "That's not what I said at all. Why are you twisting my words? And what about you? You haven't even told me you love me."

Another lie, but there's something you want to get out of him.

"I just did."

"But you didn't say the words 'I love you'." You playfully sulk and exaggerate a pout on your lips.

At this, he shuts up. But before you can celebrate over getting the last word, Yoongi looks at you intently and mumbles, "I love you."

Oh. What.

Did he really...

"What did you say?"

"I said I love you, Y/N," the last four words still came out garbled.

You bask in the moment. Etch how his lips looked when the words left his mouth. You smile at him. You'll take it.

Truth is, the three words are overrated, and by the time Yoongi wrapped up his proclamation of love to you, you believed that the love that each of you had for each other is pure.

You walk closer to a blushing Yoongi. "I love you, Yoongi." And you seal your words with a kiss.

Kissing Yoongi throws you into bliss. His mouth moves in sync with yours; a hint of tangerine hits your tongue as you swipe at his lips.

You'll never forget how he tastes now.

He moans as you nip and pull his lips before breaking away.

"That's how it is, huh." He stares you down. With one swooping motion, Yoongi grabs your hips to lift you up and then sits you on the table.

Ghosting his lips on yours, "Gotta return the favor. Scream red if you want me to stop."

Not waiting for a response, Yoongi kneels and slots himself between your legs.

"Uhm, Yoongi," You're pulling at him, voice tense. He raises his eyebrow to question you. "I haven't..." you trail off as you gesture at your lower half.

"Y/N, it's me."

Your mouth remains parted, brain lagging, searching for a reason why you're suddenly embarrassed in front of the man with whom you've shared laughs over countless sexual encounters.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you and holds your hand. "It's okay if you're not comfortable." He circles his thumb on your palm.

It's Yoongi, you remind yourself. It's not the sleazy frat boys you slept with in college or the shallow men you've dated who only wanted to go down on you if you suck them off first, only to say they're tired after.

"I want this, Yoongi."

That's all you needed to say.

He swiftly pulls down your pants along with your underwear, and you want to joke that he could probably make a Guinness world record on how fast he stripped you, but you hold your tongue.

Already aroused the moment you got a taste of him, Yoongi easily slides his finger inside you. "Shit," you gasp.

"Remember, red to stop," Yoongi reminds you.

This time, he awaits your confirmation, and so you nod. He adds another finger inside you, and eager to pleasure you, Yoongi nips at your thighs. The sting of his bites drives you further into pleasure. You look at him and lock eyes. His fingers quicken their pace plunging inside your pussy.

"Yoongi, I'm close," you exclaim. As a response, he licks at your dripping arousal and makes a big gesture to show how your juice quenched his thirst.

You'll let embarrassment catch up with you later. For now, you've never felt pleasure consume you this intensely. You're pushing Yoongi's head to your cunt. You want more and more and more.

More of this bliss, more of Yoongi.

You want more of him, from him. It's selfish, you know, but you would gladly give him the entirety of you in return if he'll have you.

With his unrelenting finger-fucking and sucking, you reach your climax.

Yoongi rises to his feet and kisses you. "I love you, Y/N."

His lips still taste of tangerine.

-

Lights Out, Words Gone

[yoongi x reader] [1.4k+ friends to lovers, light angst]

A/N: So, there was an attempt, by me. Heh. I'm just really trying to get back into creative writing. I used to enjoy writing, but no one told me that turning that into a career and years of writing newsletters and articles for corporate dulls the mind and at this point, even journaling feels like a chore. But if you found this fic and somewhat enjoyed it, I'm grateful.

-

It's ridiculous, you think to yourself. How can someone be easily disarmed by a smile?

One minute, you're furiously driving at 2 a.m. to fetch Yoongi from a dive bar—miles and hours from where you live so you're well within reason to cuss him out; the next, you're giggling next to him after he told you the lamest joke you've ever heard.

"Y/N, what did the full glass of water say to the empty glass of water?"

In no mood for his shenanigans, you slide the bottle of water you bought during the drive over, closer to him. Unperturbed, he continues with a grin, "You look drunk."

You let out an annoyed sigh. The joke doesn't even make sense, and yet, because it's Yoongi's gummy smile and his contagious giggles that echo across the empty chairs and fills the bar, your mood shifts.

Suddenly, you snort a laugh. Hearing your amusement, his giggles turn into hearty laughs, and you follow.

Yoongi catches his breath after a minute and fluffs his hair. Suddenly, he looks so soft and cuddly. You feel your breath winded.

Feeling compelled to break the silence, you tease, "Did you steal that joke from Jin?" You don't wait for an answer. You usher Yoongi out of the corner of the bar he hid himself in and he lets you push him out as he weakly argues, "Did not. I thought of it myself. I can make funny jokes too, you know." You hum in response, amused by the pout forming on his face.

-

Yoongi trudges straight to his bedroom as soon as you arrive in his place. You follow, wanting to at least make sure he's tucked in with a bucket on his side of the bed—a precaution, lest he hurls his guts in bed, which rarely happens. But better to be safe than sorry.

You eye Yoongi as he grabs a shirt from his drawer and take that as your cue to leave.

"Stay the night," his voice gravelly. You stop mid-journey out the door.

What.

"Uh, Yoongi—"

"It's too late to drive," he crosses the room and pulls your hand to take his shirt. "And if you think I'm letting you take the couch, I'm offended. Sleep here."

A beat passes. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he winks.

Right. As if you'd forget. You remember all too well how Yoongi gets needy and cheesy when drunk—which is why you hesitate. You need to distance yourself before your feeling overwhelms you and make you do something you would regret.

"Remember hell weeks shared in Jin's fancy dorm room? You snored like a fucking berserk honking truck," he chuckles, probably remembering those younger versions of you whose only problems were exams and thesis defense.

The nostalgia hits you, and you quip, "Ya! I remember Jungkook and I pulling an all-nighter for all those times. It was actually you who loudly snored."

Yoongi erupts in soft gummy giggles as you playfully give him the stink eye.

-

Laying stiff beside him, you almost succeed in willing your mind to slip into dreamland when you hear comforters shuffling until you feel him closer to you.

"You awake?" he faces you. "I am now," you huff. You open your eyes to adjust to the dim room, the only light source coming from the street lamp post outside his bedroom window and the tiny static light of your charging phone on the bedside table.

"I just…" he starts, "I wanted to thank you for picking me up. The guys were either out of town or probably too deep in their sleep to hear their phones ring."

"Yes, well… I was on the other side of the town and deep in sleep when you called." You weren't sure what your point was. Probably wanted him to know that you know he definitely did not call anyone else but you tonight.

But of course, he knows that you know. He knows he can't bullshit you. Not when you used to spend every waking moment since you met in college, which was almost 24/7, since you barely slept then. Years of friendship synced you together—getting used to one's idiosyncrasies, being able to read each other across the room, and sharing the same opinion on all things you deemed important.

"And yet you still came. I'm surprised you actually picked up after weeks of radio silence."

Yoongi starts to pick at his nails, his anxiety peaking. Atuned to even his habits, your hands reach to envelop his and you rest your cheeks atop.

"I actually thought it was one of my booty calls," you joke. He doesn't laugh or react, so you turn serious, "I'm your friend, of course, I'll come get you."

Always.

You smile at him, "It actually wasn't a bother. Get some rest, Yoongi." Thinking you ended the conversation, he suddenly confronts you, "You say that but you suddenly cut me off. Why?"

Ah.

Now, you consider if he orchestrated the whole thing. Trying to corner you so he could finally confront you. It wouldn't be out of his character.

You unclasp your hands.

"I didn't cut you off," you lamely defend yourself and hope he lets it go.

Again, this is Yoongi who's calling you out. You can't evade him just like he can't bullshit you. So he holds out.

"Right. So you suddenly dodging my calls and missing weekly hangouts when I'm available to join, is what? Coincidence?" His voice remains calm, but you would miss how it sounds heavier if you hadn't known him for years. Each word is weighed down with pent-up emotion, and now those fueled words hit you like bricks.

"I've gotten busy. Everyone did after graduation." A half lie, half truth.

He shifts a bit closer to you. "You know, even in the dark, I can tell when you're lying, right? I may not see how your eyes get shifty, but your voice has that lilt at the end when you speak. Almost as if you're also trying to make yourself believe in your lie."

You can already feel the onset of a headache from your lack of sleep, but what's more pressing is how your heart dreads being this close to him again, even more so now that you're being called out and you have no excuse. At least nothing good enough to pass Yoongi.

As the minute passes, the silence thickens, and you feel yourself growing even more tired. It could be from the drive, lack of sleep, or that you just fucking had the most mentally-draining shift just hours before that you finally resigned with honesty. Besides, now that you take a glance at his curled-up form beside you, you admit that he, at least, deserves to know why you distanced yourself.

Yoongi has been your best friend for years—the one who made sure to look into your eyes as he encouraged you to take the extra classes because if you thought it would help you secure the job of your dreams, then he believed it would pay off in the end, and you needed to believe that, too.

Yoongi, who held your hand when you went through mental and emotional hurdles. You honestly believe you wouldn't be here now, living and breathing, had it not been for him.

If only the way you looked at him stayed the same, and how his hands felt in yours remained unnoticed, like those days when he held you as you hurled your guts at bar restrooms after chugging down cheap vodka and beers.

If only your affection towards Yoongi didn't root themselves in what you thought was your uninhabitable heart and grow its tendrils over the years of laughing, crying, and sharing even the most mundane moments with him.

And so you will be honest, but you don't know where to start other than offering an apology.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi. I fucked up," tears brim your eyes but you look at him. You let your repressed emotions out and they're coming out all at once that you're overwhelmed. But you need him to know

Yoongi doesn't respond but motions for you to continue. It's his turn to take your cold hand in his and warms it between his. And it is during this delicate moment that you let it out, "I seem to have fallen in love with you."

How cliche, you rebuke yourself.

You hear him let out a sigh. Out of relief or disappointment, you're unsure.

You shift your eyes to the window behind him and get a glimpse of the rising sun. The aura of the rising sun breaking the dark blue night sky.

You don't know how many seconds, minutes passed. Yoongi remains silent.

Oh god. Surely this can't be a good thing.

You should leave now. You pry your hands away, but before you could even leave the bed, Yoongi finally breaks his silence,

"Then I fucked up, too."

-

>> Read Lights Out, Words Spill

Home Invasion - Min Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader Summary: There's someone downstairs... Trigger warnings: brief mentions of an argument, themes of anxiety and panic, themes of home invasion scenario, one swear word, a sword Author's note: I started writing this at the end of February - I'm a slow writer most of the time because I hit blocks and have to think it out, and I also have a chronic illness which interferes with, well everything. I am currently writing for the other members too, but as you might be able to tell it may take a while. I'm glad to finally post this, I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas!

It had taken a long time to get to sleep. The scenes in your head would not fade to black. You had tossed and turned for hours, replaying things in your mind.

“You can't just throw money at every problem, Yoongi!”

"Why not? It's not like I don't have a lot of it."

"Oh my god, do you hear yourself?"

The whole thing had echoed in your memory as if the words were being shouted back and forth inside a cave. You couldn't stop thinking that if you had just let it go, there would be two in this bed.

Everything seemed to irritate you: the sheets were cold and stiff, the bed too big, the room too quiet. But you knew it was all down to how guilty you felt about the fight. If it ended with Yoongi walking out, it was a fight, and you knew exactly which buttons to push.

There were two sides to you when the pair of you would fight: the one that would pull you back from the edge, that would warn that if you didn't reign in your anger, stop yourself from saying things you didn't mean, you were going to lose everything that mattered to you; and the side that was relentless and wanted to hurt him, the one that saw you standing on the precipice and dared you to jump.

Eventually you cried yourself to exhaustion and finally fell asleep, wondering how many times you could put him through this before he left for good.

***

It was a noise downstairs that brought you out of sleep. You had no idea how long you'd slept for, but your body still felt heavy and wrung out. Behind the fog of grogginess, you felt relief: obviously Yoongi was back from wherever he retreated to whenever you argued. Peeling your eyes open, you were greeted by darkness, almost the same view you had with them closed. You told yourself you had to stay awake, at least until he got into bed, so you could apologise before he went to sleep. But, listening carefully, you didn't hear the sound of keys dropping into the bowl by the door, or footsteps on the stairs. In fact, the only noise you could hear was the soft sounds of your boyfriend's breathing.

How long had he been there? And if he was here...

"Yoongi?” your small, depleted voice wobbled in the darkness.

Nothing.

Reaching out across the bed, your hand collided with his shoulder and you tried to shake him, but it was really more like giving his arm little pushes. “Yoongi.”

The only reply that came was a sleepy grunt.

There was another commotion downstairs and this time it made you jump, because you knew it wasn't who it should be. Now you gave his arm a weak jab, causing his body to flinch. Your voice came out a little louder this time. "Yoongi, please.”

He groaned again and you felt him roll over onto his side closest to you. You were convinced he was still asleep. You weren't sure if he'd had any drinks tonight, but you knew he was a heavy sleeper when he'd been drinking.

“I think someone's in the house." Your voice broke as you spoke now, getting more scared as it didn't seem like you'd be able to wake him.

"Huh?" he croaked, and your heart leapt at the sound of his voice. You'd never been happier to hear that voice. The covers crinkled as he sat up, one hand rubbing his face. "Are you sure?"

You were about to answer when, as if on cue, another sound came from the lower level. If someone had been trying to get into the house, they were definitely inside now.

"Fuck," you heard from beside you before he sprang from the bed faster than you'd seen him move before, especially when he’d been asleep just moments ago.

He flicked on the lamp and your eyes instinctively closed, stinging in the sudden bright light. Fighting to look, you watched as he gazed around in panic, seemingly for something to defend himself with. Glancing around your side of the room, you couldn't see anything that could pose as a weapon, except a couple of awards that looked kind of pointy, but you weren't sure they would be of any help in this situation.

You almost jolted again when you heard something, but then you realised it was inside the room. Yoongi was rummaging around in the sliding closet before standing with something brandished in his grip: it was the katana he'd used in one of his music videos.

With the light on, you could see he'd been sleeping in his clothes; his hair was a mess and his eyes looked rough, as if he hadn't slept for very long before this disturbance. At the sight of him, you couldn't help but wonder, even in your panic, if he'd been as torn up over the squabble as you had.

"Lock the door behind me," he instructed as he headed towards it.

Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Was this really happening?

"Wait!" you whispered loudly, and scrambled down the foot of the bed. You knelt there, hesitant to leave the mattress, as if the offender were a mouse and you were safe up there, which you knew was irrational.

Yoongi turned from the door and approached you, his free arm instinctively curling around your waist as yours encircled his shoulders. In the state of nerves and adrenaline you were in, the touch of your bodies felt like electricity.

Your voice trembled now. You met his eyes and wondered if his calm appearance was put on for your benefit. “I'm sorry. I- I didn't..."

He touched his forehead to yours - he always did this whenever he apologised. It was one of those things you would never grow sick of. "Me too."

He pulled away, too soon. You knew you were probably in danger and he had to go, but you didn’t want him to. As scared as you were of the intruder, you were more scared of him going down there, regardless of having an impressive sword on his side. What if the other guy had a gun? A bullet would be much faster.

He turned the bedroom doorknob impossibly slow, trying to prevent it making any noise. He took a step out of the room, turned back for a second to gesture for you to lock the door, and then he was gone.

You couldn't bear it; you just knelt there, staring into the darkness beyond the door, blinking, all the horrible things that could be about to happen swimming in your head, listening desperately for the sound of your boyfriend's steps to keep track of him. You couldn't hear anything except the throbbing in your ears. Getting carefully to your feet, you crossed to the door slowly and shakily, holding your breath and straining once more for a noise.

Nothing.

You knew you should lock the door as Yoongi had instructed, but closing it would feel like leaving him on his own. At first you just stood on the threshold, waiting, but, more and more every moment, a strong urge to follow after him grew. Warring with yourself, you knew it was a bad idea; you were nowhere near as agile and stealthy as your boyfriend, and you might alert the intruder by mistake, or you could get in Yoongi's way and he could get hurt.

Before you could execute either plan, there was a loud crash downstairs, followed by a grunt. Feet moving before your brain could stop them, you flew down the stairs to the kitchen. You heard Yoongi’s voice but you were moving too fast and breathing too heavily to register words. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, katana hanging half-heartedly from his grip. You emerged behind him, going up on your toes to peek over his shoulder into the dimly lit kitchen.

Standing by the sliding door that lead to the backyard were Jimin and Taehyung, leaning on each other and swaying noticeably.

“You do realise I could have killed you guys?” Yoongi was saying sternly, holding up his weapon for the younger boys to see.

Their glassy eyes followed the sword through the air in awe, mesmerised.

"That's so cool," breathed Tae. His hair was not up to its usual standard, and half of his shirt was untucked from his pants.

"What's going on?" you asked, stepping out from behind Yoongi, into view.

Jimin burst into a fit of giggles upon seeing you, weighing Tae down as he did. Taehyung unhooked himself from Jimin and the older boy collapsed to the ground, unable to get control of himself. You looked down at yourself to see what was so amusing and realised the boys had never seen you in pajamas before. Wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, you looked away, slightly embarrassed.

Yoongi shook his head at the pair but you knew he felt affection for them. "You scared the hell out of her, too."

“Sorry,” said Jimin, laughter subsided and sounding genuine. His brows were pulled together, the way they usually did when he was concerned or sympathetic. He got to his feet, a little unsteadily, and began to reach for you before thinking better of it and pulling back again. “We- we left our keys at home so we wouldn’t drive, and when we got home nobody would let us in.”

“Probably all asleep,” added Taehyung, who had begun looking through the cupboards and found a box of crackers he was currently fighting to open.

Yoongi leaned closer to you. “They’ve been at the pub most of the night, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I can tell,” you replied. You pried the box from Tae and opened it easily for him, his face lighting up as you handed it back. “It’s okay. You guys can stay here tonight.”

The two younger boys looked instinctively at their hyung. He was holding the katana over the backs of his shoulders, his tongue tucked into his cheek. “But next time, try knocking on the front door, huh?”

***

Once you had set Jimin and Taehyung up on the couch for the night, top and tailed and bickering about whose feet smelled worse, with water and extra blankets and a torch for a night light, you and Yoongi retreated upstairs. Now that there was no threat and you were alone, you didn’t know what to say. Or, more accurately, you knew what you wanted to say, but not where to start conversation.

Before you could think much more about it, you found yourself speaking as Yoongi made to close the door. “Maybe we should leave it open.”

Yoongi looked up through his lashes, his eyes seemed red with tiredness. He nodded softly and righted the door before crossing to kneel in front of you where you sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress. “Are you okay?”

Your throat tightened at the question; here he was, typical Yoongi, asking if you were alright when he was the one who bore the brunt of the fight. You pondered your answer a moment before replying, your voice trembling with the threat of tears. “No, I’m not. I hurt you. Again.”

Yoongi cupped one of your cheeks with his smooth, cold hand. “It’s okay, I’m tough. I can take it.”

“For how long?”

“Until you don’t want me to come back.”

You sniffled pathetically. “I’ll always want you to come back. I never really want you to leave in the first place.”

He smiled softly before tucking his arms under your knees and bringing you up the bed. Laying your head on your pillow and brushing your hair behind your ears soothingly, pulling the covers over you, then getting in beside you.

“I don’t know if I can get back to sleep after that,” you admitted. After the arguing and the crying, the panic and adrenaline of the false break in, you were beat, but you felt too wired to settle down and drift off again.

Yoongi kissed the tip of your nose before reaching for you. “Come here, little spoon.” You rolled onto your side and let him tug you back against his chest. His heart still wasn’t at its normal pace either. Feeling him reach behind him, you heard the familiar sound of his phone unlocking.

Was he texting the other boys and let them know Jimin and Taehyung were here so they wouldn’t worry? Was he tweeting about the funny incident that had just happened downstairs? Was he going to read articles until he fell asleep? Your eyes felt so heavy and tired, but you were sure you couldn’t sleep yet. Maybe you could just listen to Yoongi’s breathing and that would help.

You felt him move again and his hand came down in front of you, holding his phone. The screen began to move and within seconds you understood, warmth melting in your chest. “You have my comfort movie on your phone?”

He chuckled quietly at your reaction. “I thought it might come in handy sometime. You don’t have to watch the whole thing, just until you want to sleep.”

Sighing in contentment, you sank further into his arms as the opening scene rolled and the music started quietly. How did you ever get so lucky?

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

idk if anyone else noticed but they've finally stopped putting concealer on Yoongi’s upper lip and istfg I don’t know how to handle myself these days

he looks so good ♡

484 days before min yoongi come back v.cr.: dwellingsouls