[ 12:23PM ] “You did what?” Yoongi asked again from the other line.

You did a cautious glance around you, careful not to make your voice too loud before you answer his inquiry since you were afraid that potential nosy co-workers will be able to eavesdrop. “I put a picture of the two of us.”

“Where?”

“Beside my monitor.”

“With only you and me?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t speak for about three seconds, causing you to think of all the possible worst scenarios that could bloom from your confession in that short amount of time. “What picture?”

You cleared your throat. “In the steak house this year.”

Ah, the ever so famous steak house picture. When you uploaded that on your IG account, specifically as a story, you got a bunch of replies from mutuals, all asking if you and Yoongi were finally dating after being close friends for God knows how long. You couldn’t blame them for thinking in such a way, considering that your smiles in the photo were too big to not be suspicious of—not to mention your heads too that were pressed together as you sat side by side, actually waiting for your other high school friends to arrive in the restaurant you planned to meet in. Some may even argue that your arms were linked beneath the view of the camera or perhaps your hands were intertwined.

“____—”

“It’s just a repellant,” you assured him immediately before he could protest.

“Huh?”

“A repellant,” you inhaled, “you know… like something to keep other people’s noses in my business. They just keep on setting me up with this one guy in the other department, Yoon. I couldn’t help it!” you practically hissed the last part, finally standing up and walking away from your desk to have some privacy.

“So, basically, what you’re saying is—you’re using me as a cover-up boyfriend?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, basically.”

He snorted at the ridiculousness of your actions. “Why me? You could have chosen Taehyung. The both of you would look more convincing.”

“Taehyung’s seeing someone. I wouldn’t want to cause complications in case this backfires.”

“And you didn’t think that would happen with me too?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone as well,” you reasoned. “I mean, you aren’t, are you?”

“Nope.”

“See? How could you anyways? You’re a freaking surgeon. You have no social life.”

“Uh, of course, I still have a social life?“

“Just because you see inpatients almost everyday via appointments doesn’t mean you have a social life.”

Yoongi laughed, a low kind of one that inevitably makes a grin appear on your lips. “Keep that attitude up and I’ll break up with you.”

You raised your eyebrows at the retort, intrigued by his fast agreeableness. “Wait a minute, does that mean you’re okay with this?”

“With the whole fake boyfriend stuff?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s just a picture.”

“And also fake relationship stories—just a heads up.”

You could see how he might have rolled his eyes at that statement despite only hearing his voice from the phone. “Okay, whatever, use me all you want.”

You squealed, visibly jumping and swaying side by side in giddiness. “Really?”

“Sure. Ruin all of my chances of ever dating someone.”

“Come on, it’s just going to be for the meantime—”

“I’m kidding.” He cut you off with a snort. “Dating is out of the picture too with my hectic schedule. So, do whatever you have to do.”

“For real?” you exclaimed again.

He laughed at your reaction. “Yes, ____.”

“Ah, I owe you so much, Yoon!”

He fondly made a sound of approval. “Treat me to dinner later for the first installment of your payment. I have some spare time.”

“Alright. I’ll treat you to anywhere you want!”

“I’m going to hold onto that.” He chuckled. “Anyways, is that all you called me for? I have to attend a conference in a few minutes.”

“Yup. That’s all.”

“Okay. See you later then.”

You nodded, the big grin still on your features. “See you. Looking forward to it.”

Yoongi hummed in a soft manner before hanging up.

As you began to stride back to your workstation, happy because of the success of your plan to convince him to agree in being your cover-up boyfriend, you walked past Jihye, one of your said nosy co-workers who seemed like she overheard a part of your conversation, smiling at you.

“Was that your boyfriend?” she asked.

You placed your phone back inside your pocket, a new type of giddiness erupting inside your chest. “Yeah.”

“Ooh, are you two having a date?”

You nodded in a seemingly proud fashion. “It’s just dinner.”

“Still, I’m jealous.” She sighed dreamily and teasingly at you, causing you to chuckle while she went on with her agenda before stopping by to engage in small talk.

You stayed in your spot longer than intended, thinking about the events that may happen because of your desperation to not be linked to that other person in the office—but you didn’t really care, to be honest, knowing that if it was going to be Yoongi, everything was going to flow smoother than reckoned.

At least, that’s what you thought.

note. just a very short drabble inspired by a scene in yumi’s cell ! hehe

THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED !♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x male reader

Genre: Fluff fluff fluff

A/n: Oof i had this in my docs for a while and forgot about it. I’m sorry it took so long! This was requested a while ago by @jeonjamsss.

(Y/n)’s Pov

I pouted and complained about how people thought Jungkook liked me on Yoongi’s lap on the couch,“I don’t know (Y/n)-hyung. Kookie seems pretty into you.” Yoongi said as he ran his hand through my (h/c) hair. 

I groaned and buried my head into his stomach and whined, “Noo Gigi, he’s just as attached to me as he is with Jinnie-hyung. In fact, those two seem more in love then what people see with me and him. Plus, he already told me- uh nevermind but as I was saying noooooo not Kookie, my child.”

Yoongi rose an eyebrow from the secret that Jungkook had told me but decided to let it go and continue to pet my head. He paused and moved us to a more comfortable position where we lay face to face with each other. I continued to cuddle and complain to him about anything and everything and he just hummed and listened to me while running his fingers through my hair. 

It went on like that for a few minutes before someone bursts through the door, “Hyungs! Do you want to get dinn- Um am I interrupting something?” A confused Taehyung asked with a small head tilt, though there was a hint of a small smile and excitement in his eyes.

Yoongi and I looked at each other with confusion before shaking our heads and got up from the couch, “Why would be interrupting something TaeTae? We were just talking about work? Anyway, what did you need?” I asked with confusion as Yoongi nodded to my words.

Taehyung’s eyes turned to disbelief before groaning and shaking his head. He sighed and put a hand on his forehead, “Look, just- Dinner you both are buying dinner for me and Jungkookie right?” He said with exasperation but ended with a hopeful tone.

I rolled my eyes and held Yoongi’s hand, “ Alright let’s go I guess but with that attitude only Kookie is getting free food.” I sighed and dragged him out the door.

Taehyung looked at our hands before his eyes widened and he whined, “Hyung, me too! Buy food for me too!” He called out from behind and ran to catch up.

Yoongi snickered and mumbled how mean I am. I bickered with him that he’s meaner and we went back and forth with banter while Taehyung kept whining about food and something else that I couldn’t hear as he mumbled under his breath and I was too caught up looking at my crush.

Yoongi snickered at something I said and suddenly threw my hand forward causing me to run into a waiting maknae, “Go to your boyfriend, hyung!” He chuckled as Jungkook looked at us with his wide doe eyes, and a blush. 

I flushed in embarrassment before gently pushing Jungkook away and patting his head, “Sorry, Kookie. GiGi is being a jerk again!” I said with a sing song voice.

He and Taehyung both giggled as Yoongi glared at me and we relinked our hands and continued our banter and walk to whatever food place the two youngest talked about. 

(Taehyung’s Pov)

Jungkook and I watched as our two hyungs danced around each other, flirting, and denying their feelings for the other. Yoongi-hyung was somehow convinced that (Y/n)- hyung liked Jungkook while (Y/n)- hyung was convinced that Yoongi-hyung just didn’t like him at all which is ridiculous as Jungkook and I watch Yoongi-hyung basically sitting on his lap while he fed (Y/n)- hyung. Truly a disgusting pair of oblivious love struck hyungs, but we stayed quiet as the two giggled and whispered to each other. Jungkook looked at me and we sighed, catching the attention of our hyungs.

“Are your meals alright? Do you need more food?” (Y/n)- hyung asked with slight worry.

I smiled, “Nope! I was trying to digest my food watching you two lovey do-” I said before trying to repress a scream from two people kicking me a little too hard.

I saw my hyungs looking at me with innocent eyes and slight blushes on their faces while Jungkook snickered at me. I glared at him with all my might causing him to full blown laugh.

“So nothing’s wrong right, Taehyung?” Yoong-hyung asked and admitted an aura of death.

I nodded quickly before stuffing my mouth and saying, “Nofing, wrung fere!”

He nodded with a smirk and continued to feed the other snickering hyung. We continued to eat with everyone unfairly teasing me. I wish the two would just get together already.

Timeskip

(Jimin’s Pov)

Jin-hyung and I read through the rolling comments and questions that we answered as we did a Vlive in our hotel room. One comment from a fan caught my eye as it did for others apparently as everyone got on that subject.

‘So like does Suga and (S/n) know they’re boyfriends already or are they still oblivious?’

I chuckled and nodded while Jin-hyung groaned and looked behind him at the two people laying on the bed, cuddling and holding hands, whispering softly together before Jin-hyung called out, “Hey lovebirds! The Army are asking how you both are doing.”

The two blushed and looked away from each other before, shaking their heads, sitting up and softly giggling and started talking about the music their working on, unintentionally finishing each other’s sentences. Jin-hyung rose an eyebrow at the camera causing me to laugh, interrupting the oblivious hyungs.

The two looked at me in confusion as I looked at the camera, “Does that answer the question Army?” I asked and got a bunch of confirmations and pouting emojis.

Jin-hyung and I laughed at the confused noise the other pair gave but when Yoongi-hyung was about to ask it, Jin-hyung beat him to it, “Anyway! We have to go Army! See some of you on Saturday!” He blew a kiss to the camera and we all said bye.

Yoongi-hyung and (Y/n)-hyung looked at us confused for earlier but before either one of them could ask Jin-hyung hoisted Yoongi-hyung up and bid us a good night. Yoongi-hyung resisted for a moment before (Y/n)-hyung patted his head and told him to rest up for practice tomorrow.

When they left, I tackled the (h/c) hair hyung to the bed and laughed as he squawked in surprise. He began giggling and pushed me on my side of the bed before reaching for the light.

I looked at him with curiosity and asked, “Hey hyung?”

He hummed as he settled in the bed and turned towards me.

“Why don’t you confess to Yoongi-hyung?” I asked.

He sputtered in shock, turning red before answering, “Why would I do that?”

I rolled my eyes, “Confess that you like him? You guys make it a little too obvious that you both like each other.” I pointed out.

(Y/n)-hyung blinked, “You think he likes me back?” He wondered.

I groaned, “Well, I don’t see him cuddling the others like you two do on a daily basis.” I said sarcastically earning a small bop on the head from the red hyung.

“First of all, the disrespect.” He said jokingly, with a small smile, “Second of all, he just likes to indulge me just like he lets you and Taetae get away with various things.”

I rose an eyebrow and got my phone and went to a folder named ‘Two dumb in love hyungs’ and pulled the first few photos up and showed him.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t initiate touch like he does with you with us. Also, he always shoos us away when we get too touchy with you or teases you too much. Something he doesn’t do with anyone else, if anything he’ll join in on the teasing.” I said, muttering the last part with a pout.

(Y.n)-hyung looked away from my phone, “Even if what you say is true, if we did start a relationship, the consequences of us fighting would affect the band and-”

I stopped him before he could overthink the situation and grabbed his hand, “But you guys have fights like a couple anyway but you both always find your way back to each other and if you both have a bad fight the others and I will help you both.” I assured him.

He sighed, “I wouldn’t even know where to begin with if I wanted to tell him, Minnie.”

I lit up and sat up texting a group chat named, ‘Suga(S/n) need to get together’, who had everyone in the band except the two oblivious people in the band and told them to get prepared as my side of the plan worked. 

I smiled at the confused hyung besides me, “Don’t worry Hyungie, we are going to help you.”

His eyebrows furrowed and asked, “What do you mean “We”-” before getting cut off by the knocking on the door.

I turned on the lights and rushed to open up the door. Everyone in our group chat had rushed to our room to dog pile on the now distressed (Y/n)-hyung to help him plan the perfect confession.

Timeskip

(No one’s Pov)

The crowds cheered as the 8 men as they finished up their concert. 

“ARMY! Thank you for joining us today! We love you but before you leave we need to ask you a question!” Namjoon said happily in the mic.

The crowd responded with yells of what and cheers. 

“First, I’m going to pair each member up,” he paused and put the members, with each other: Jimin and himself,  Jinkook, Vhope, Suga(S/n). 

All of them looked excited except the last pair, one confused and one nervous.

“Now, we’ll raise our hands one pair at a time and you all will cheer for which pair will have to do a closing act together.” He announced getting screams and cheers from the army.

First, he and Jimin rose their hands, the army cheered but quietly, the army bombs stayed their white glow. Jinkook and Vhope got the same responses. When Suga(S/n) rose their hands, the Army screamed and their Army bombs started to flash a wave of rainbows.

Yoongi and (Y/n) stepped up to center stage with nervous looks, albeit for two different reasons. 

Yoongi whispered to the other, “What are we supposed to do? Our duet song?” He asked confused and got a sheepish grin and small follow along from (Y/n).

(Y/n) turned towards him and dug around in his pocket before fishing out a small box.

“Hey GiGi, remember that time you first met me before I got to officially join the group during the Run album? You were offput and offended that I would be joining late into the band but then started to warm up as I brought you coffee and asked for some help about producing some songs I had made. To be honest, I lied to you when I said I wanted to produce songs and joined BigHit for that.” (Y/n) said with nervousness.

Yoongi looked surprised and confused but said nothing as the other continued, fiddling with the box, “While I was brought in because of it, I originally wanted to just sing and perform on stage but as soon as I heard your songs and then I would be joining your band, I wanted to impress you so I took up producing and changed my focus. I did it all because I liked your songs and when I got to meet you, it was because I started to really like you, so much more than anyone I’ve ever met,” (Y/n) open the box to reveal a black bracelet with small a small aquamarine in the middle, “Did I impress you GiGi?”

The silent male’s eyes soften and he smiled with small tears gathering in his eyes. Yoongi wiped his eyes, and took the bracelet and examined it while (Y/n) looked at him with anticipation. 

“Honestly, when you first came with your songs I thought they were shit,” He finally said and quickly continued with a smile and put on the bracelet, ignoring the crestfallen face of the elder “but you got better the more you worked on them, while your songs didn’t impress me all too well. Your persistence to talk to someone who gave you the cold shoulder, and get them to love you was something else.”

He smiled fondly  as (Y/n)’s face processed his words and lit up, “You love me?” (Y/n) happily asked quietly.

He chuckled, and nodded. (Y/n) teared up and jumped at Yoongi to hug him, surprising him and barely preventing them both from falling. Loud cheers were heard from the once quiet crowd and the rest of the band.

(Y/n) pulled away a bit and said, “I love you too.” before smashing their lips together causing everyone to scream for them and cheer their ship name out loud, while their duet song blasted in the stadium.

They pulled away and rested their foreheads together, smiling at each other with the love they’ve always had with each other before turning towards the crowd and start waving with the other members goodbye to the army and together, they walked off the darkening stage hand in hand.

xxihavenolifexx:

Jin may as well be the CEO of Bighit now. The dude literally gives no fucks anymore.

Bang PD who? I only know Kim Seokjin, CEO of Bighit Ent.

taegiuniverse:

IF THIS ISNT THE CUTEST FUCKING THING HSIWKDUE

Cr:@suga_suga_taegi

yoongi. lockscreens.

like/reblog if you save.

So I know y’all have never seen me before, but I recorded the whole concert and the videos are too long so this is all I have to offer. It was our first trip to Chicago and our first time seeing BTS, and let me say, it was honestly the best night of my life! It was an amazing trip and I had a wonderful time. Excuse the ugly also follow my bestie’s korean learning blog @studykorean4metoo!

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of past hoseok x reader

summary:Min Yoongi saves a life and then has sex. Is it the best choice? No. Does he do it anyway? Yeah.

warnings: non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug use, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, mentions of past cheating, smut (oral, m and f receiving)

–

Fuck it.

He had to do something. Yoongi stood up, grabbing his phone. His white t-shirt got caught in the chair and he stumbled, cursing at himself. He was a mess already and nothing had happened yet. He grabbed his black sweatpants and yanked them on, opening his door with purpose. Being in limbo wasn’t going to help him, so it was time to take the situation in his own hands. He strode to her door, heart pounding in his chest.

Get a grip, he scolded himself.

He tapped his knuckle against her door, saying her name loudly. Startled by his own volume, he lowered his voice, chewing on his lower lip as he spoke.

“Hey, I want to show you my mixtape. If that’s okay with you,” he finished awkwardly, wincing. He should have thought about what to say. There was a long silence. He pressed his lips together. He was losing his nerve. Each second felt like an eternity.

And then he heard the rustle of fabric. He could sense a form on the other side of the door. For some reason, he lifted his hand and touched the wood, knowing it was the only thing separating them now.

“The song… the song we worked on. I really want you to hear it.” Please.

He heard the lock turn and the door opened. The eyes that looked at him, he would remember for the rest of his life. Bloodshot, giant black pools that threatened to swallow him alive and a sadness he knew all too well. Her hands were stuffed into the sleeves of her huge grey sweatshirt and the matching long shorts made her look even smaller, a tiny thing quivering in her doorframe.

He was tall enough to see past her, into her room. It was a neat room, except for the low table at the foot of her bed. The tabletop was covered in photos that he couldn’t quite see. And in the center was a glass palette.

With ten lines of white powder.

His eyes widened. Panic shot through his veins and he grabbed her collar, inspecting her face, her nose, dragging her into the room. She didn’t even fight him, a dead weight in his hands. Her expression was lifeless, tired.

“How much?” he scowled, “How much did you take? Tell me!”

“I didn’t take any yet,” she replied calmly. Too calmly.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “You’re a drug addict.”

“I am not lying.”

His panic was thinning out into anger and confusion. And then she said it.

“I’m not a drug addict, Yoongi. I’m trying to die.”

He froze.

“W-what?”

He looked down again, at the pictures. They were pictures of two people. She was smiling in those photos, eye bright and reflective with the fullness of life. She looked younger, happier. Her arms wrapped around a young man, who had an equally bright smile, heart-shaped and cheerful.

It was slowly sinking in. He let her go, eyes scanning over the photos. Pictures of them in matching outfits. Pictures holding hands. Pictures of them kissing. He looked back to her and she was staring at the photographs too.

“Aren’t they nice?” She whispered softly. “They’re such nice pictures. He always took good pictures, my sunshine.” She chuckled darkly, an ugly sound. “But photos only highlight of the good times. They don’t show the bad times.” Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. “They don’t show his coke habit. They don’t show me enabling his habit, becoming a runner so he could have easier access. They don’t show me begging and pleading, doing degrading things so he can get another dose.”

Her hands went to head. She gripped her hair, breaking his heart with every word.

“I killed him as much as he killed himself.”

The information hit him like a truck. Speechless, he began to piece things together. The signs were there from the beginning and he didn’t even think about it because he would have never fathomed this in his wildest dreams. Guilt and comprehension hit him all at once. She could have kept the door locked and snorted the cocaine. What if he hadn’t chosen this moment? What if he had waited ten more minutes? She could have overdosed and he wouldn’t have known until days later.

But she had opened the door. She opened the door and let him see.

“What happened?” he murmured quietly.

She threw her hands out of her hair, nails raking down her face and neck. “We had a stupid fight. I told him I would be there to help him detox. We tried,” she wailed, throwing her fists against the wall. “He was shivering and pleading and exhausted. He told me he couldn’t do it. I told him he could if he actually tried and he blew up, telling me I didn’t understand.” Her voice was a panicked ramble as if she was reliving that night. He wasn’t even sure if she remembered he was there anymore. “He kept yelling at me, saying all I had to do was call Seokjin and throw myself at him. I said I was done being Seokjin’s whore just so he could get high. He stormed out, screaming that he would get his own.” She slammed her fists against the wall, screaming into it. The sound chilled Yoongi to the bone. She continued, blind to his presence. “I should have chased after him.” She slid to the floor, knees smacking the hardwood hard. “I should have gone. But I was so tired. I was so tired of it.” Her voice dropped.

“I was tired of him and it haunts me every day.”

He swallowed. It was obvious she had never said this aloud before to anyone.

“Next thing I know, he’s dead because of dirty coke.” She shuddered, arms covering her head. “I handed him a dishonorable death and I didn’t even go to his fucking funeral.”

“Why… not?” he asked softly.

She cackled, a terrible sound. “Why would I go? I never met his family. I was his drug dealer.”

He turned to the pictures. “It looks like you were his girlfriend.”

She finally looked up at him. Her glare was so sharp it could cut steel. “And what if they found out? Mom, Dad, meet my girlfriend who also gives me access to cocaine,” she scoffed.

They stared at each other, but they weren’t looking at each other. She was looking at her own demons, her own past. Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to look into pain in those dark orbs. It took him several minutes before he could speak again.

“You still deal, don’t you?”

Her voice was as distant as her stare. “You don’t get out that easily.”

They stayed like that for a moment. He had to do something. Anything.

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi sat down on her floor. She didn’t turn her head to look at him. Weirdly enough, the moment didn’t feel as alien to him as it should have. Maybe it was because he too had been at this road as well, although at that time he hadn’t quite formed a plan on how to follow though. He didn’t know what he would have done if the resources had been available.

“Do you remember,” he murmured, trying to keep the anxiousness out of his voice. “Do you remember that time where you gave me advice on what to wear for that concert?” He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “You made fun of my clothes and hair back then.”

Her eyes shifted to him. He continued, voice a little stronger now that he had her attention.

“You also brought me chicken that night and left me a note, wishing me well.” He smiled at the memory, holding her gaze now. “I wanted to tell you back then.” He wanted her to know. “Thank you.”

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t make fun of him. She looked a little taken aback.

He scratched his cheek, pressing his lips together before he spoke again. “I couldn’t tell you then, but back then, I really couldn’t afford to eat sometimes.” Without realizing it, he felt his eyes water. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. “Remember that time you were making beef and my stomach growled so loud that you laughed?” He chuckled, a small smile on his lips. “It was a great laugh. I’ll remember it always.”

Her shoulders trembled with uncertainty. “Why… why are you telling me this?”

“Because I didn’t then. And I should have.” He looked deep, deep into those eyes. “I should have said something because I am grateful to you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you did.” He caught her eye again, preventing her from looking at the ground. “You gave me a chance when no one did and I won’t forget it.”

She was silent. He hoped she allowed herself to understand. He was no knight in shining armor; he couldn’t make her mind see what he saw. It wasn’t that simple and he knew that. He also knew that humans had vices. Humans fell into patterns and they believed in them, even if they were senseless to other people. He was guilty of that too.

She was so close and yet so far. No. She was actually getting closer. Leaning towards him, looking into his eyes. Maybe her eyes weren’t so dark after all. They didn’t seem so dark when she was close like this. Her lips were slightly parted, so full and pink. He didn’t move. She stopped, centimeters from his face. She began to pull back and he grabbed her shoulder, stopping her.

It was a terrible idea. He replied before she could say anything.

“I don’t care.”

He closed the distance himself, pressed his lips to hers. You’re a rebound, this isn’t going to cure depression, this doesn’t discount the fact that she’s a fucking drug dealer – he pushed all those thoughts aside because he did not care. Her hand gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him roughly. He held her arms as she climbed into his lap, igniting him with wild kisses, stealing his breath. She sucked on his tongue, making him moan, letting him go to kiss his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. His hands slid down her arms, finding her ass and pressing his fingers into the fabric of her shorts.

“Yoongi…” His name like a prayer falling from her lips.

It was wrong, so wrong, but he wanted it so bad.

Her lips pressed against his earlobe, making him shudder. Her tongue laced around his earring, tugging lightly, making him shiver. If it wasn’t real, he didn’t want to know. If it wasn’t right, he didn’t want to believe it. Her teeth nibbling on his ear, making him moan. Her hands slid up his shirt, fingertips against his chest. Such thin hands but they seemed to feel all of him, setting his skin ablaze.

His fingers hooked the elastic of her shorts and pulled them down, dragging her underwear down with them. She kicked them off herself, getting on her knees, kissing down his neck, sucking the sensitive skin. It hurt a little but he barely registered it, cupping her bare skin with his palms.

He whispered her name pleadingly. She looked up, breathless, locking eyes with him.

“You should stop me,” he panted.

One final warning because he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself anymore. One final moment where they could turn back and maybe not do this.

She cupped his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his.

“I really don’t want to, Yoongi.”

She kissed him, throwing caution to the wind. He reciprocated, sliding his hand up her back. Her skin was so soft, cool against his heat. He unhooked her bra with one hand, attempting to tug her sweatshirt off. She slid out of it, pushing it aside, leaving her naked over him. He looked over her body, scars dotting her skin as thin white lines. Lithe and strong, holding the weight of her past on her shoulders. He licked his lips, pulling his shirt over his head, letting it drop beside them. He looped an arm around her waist, pressing her against him, shuddering as he felt her nipples press against his chest.

“Who knew you were hiding such amazing breasts under those clothes,” he teased, voice low. Her cheeks flushed red and she gave him an indignant look.

He turned them over, putting her on her back. He kissed down her neck, licking her collarbones slowly, tongue dipping in between them. Down the curve of her breast, tongue leisurely teasing the tip of her nipple. She whimpered, one of her hands in his hair. His free hand traced her side, feeling the fullness of her hips. She tasted so good, better than his dreams, better than he imagined. He sucked, enjoying her soft mewls and cries. He dug his fingernails into her hip, holding her down as he flicked her nipple with his tongue. Her hand tightened in his hair, curling the black locks around her fingers.

He stopped, smirking above her nipple. “Is that why you said I would look better with longer hair?”

Her cheeks and ears reddened. Fuck, she was so cute. She spoke, surprising him.

“You don’t like it?” she asked, voice quivering.

He dragged himself up her body, pressing his clothed hips in between her legs, letting her feel his erection.

“I like it,” he drawled, his lips brushing against hers. “Lose yourself to me.” Let me take care of you, even if it’s only in this moment.

His hand ran down her body, grabbing her hips and shoving them against his, grinning as he felt her wetness smear against the crotch of his pants. She moaned, her back arching, a moment he burned into his mind. He kissed down her chest again, tongue lapping her nipples. Her fingers raced up the back of his neck, tangling themselves in his hair once again. He kissed down her stomach, his lips against her soft skin. He could smell it now, the heavy scent of her sex. He spread her thighs wide, fingers dipping into her flesh. He buried his nose into it, moaning as his lips tasted her, stickiness coating his cheeks and chin. A slow, languid lick of her slit made her cry out his name. He teased her lips apart with his tongue, rubbing the tip against her walls. Like honey, her taste coated his senses. He felt drunk off her taste alone. His tongue expertly traced circles around her clit, not quite touching it, but telling her he was avoiding it deliberately.

“Yoongi…” she whined. Her hand pressed against his head, trying to push him down. “Please.”

He brushed his nose against her clit, lifting his head slightly. She whimpered and he grinned.

“Please what?” he purred. His voice was deep with lust. “I want to hear it.”

He couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear her desire for him in words.

She pouted. “Touch my clit.”

He reached between her legs and pressed a single finger against the sensitive spot. She flinched, making him grin. He rubbed, slowly, slowly.

“Like this?” he teased. Her other hand was clutching in the white t-shirt. His.

She gasped as he increased the pace, not moving too widely, but concentrating the vibrations of his hand on her clit. Her hips twisted but he held them down, watching her come undone in front of him, head thrown back as he rubbed faster. Moaning his name, chasing her orgasm.

“Cum for me,” he breathed against her skin. “Cum all over my hand.”

She sank her teeth into her lower lip, stifling her scream as she came onto his hand, liquid coating his fingers suddenly. He immediately replaced his hand with his mouth, licking furiously. It was so intoxicating that he closed his eyes, moaning into her pussy as he lapped up her juices, pressing his tongue against her clit. Her hips bucked and he held her still, feverishly licking the sensitive nub. She gasped, shoving her hips against his mouth.

“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

He flicked his tongue against her clit mercilessly, holding her thighs apart firmly so she couldn’t close her legs. Her back arched so high and tight he was afraid she was going to snap.

“Fuuuuck, Yoongi!”

His name punctuated her orgasm, hips shaking as she flooded his mouth. He sucked up her juices greedily, sticking his tongue inside her and feeling her walls clamp around his tongue. Sweat clung to his brow and back but he didn’t care. He lifted his head, a perverse satisfaction coming over him as he watched the string of her juices following his chin before snapping.

She lay against the floor, panting, a little hoarse. He crawled back up to her face and she kissed him without hesitation. If this was sin, he would happily go to hell.

They broke apart, his forehead resting against hers, hands on either side of her.

“Yoongi…”

Please say my name again and again. “Yeah?”

“Let me take care of you too.”

She pushed him, gently, and he obliged, taking her hand as she nudged him to standing position. He saw the table out of the corner of his eye but he looked away. She hooked her fingers along the sides of his pants and pulled them down, freeing his semi-hard erection. He looked down at her. She reached up and circled her fingers around his cock, holding it loosely. He felt it twitch at the attention of someone new.

A small smile. She leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against his balls. He shivered at the strange sensation. Normally girls would go straight for the dick. She pressed the flat of her tongue against his balls and licked him all over. His skin erupted in goosebumps, stunned by the pleasure of her tongue wrapping around his balls and taking them in her mouth. He watched in fascination as she looked up at him, balls deep in her mouth and her hand wrapped around his cock.

He breathed her name, amazed.

She bobbed her head up and mouth, slowly stroking him. Saliva dripped down her chin and onto her chest, sliding down her breasts. He could see precum leaking out of the head and she casually spread it around with one finger, making his knees weak. He moaned as she removed her mouth from his balls. She guided him to her mouth, holding him in place as she ran her tongue over the head. He shut his eyes, seeing stars.

“Shit, I’m going to fuck your face at this rate,” he hissed.

He heard her small, “Heh.” And then she engulfed him with her mouth, hot, wet, lips tightening around his cock as she took him in. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. She went deep, so deep the head pressed against the back of her throat. He didn’t know how she had the skill to go so deep and, honestly, he didn’t want to know. She sucked him slowly, but each time she went down, the head of his cock scraped the roof of her mouth, increasing the sensitivity each time. He kept his hands flat against the wall, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. One hand held his cock steady as the other cupped his slippery balls, smearing the saliva all over them.

It was so wet, so hot that he was sure he was going insane.

She sped up, sucking harder. Groans tore from his throat, legs shaking from the intense pleasure. He tried his best to keep his hips still, not wanting to accidentally choke her and cause her to stop.

“F-fuck me,” he moaned, feeling her tongue wrap around the head and her lips tightening around him. He couldn’t think straight anymore. He gasped her name and shot his orgasm into the back of her throat, sensing her hands releasing him suddenly. They gripped his thighs as she swallowed, the sound so audible and obscene that his cock twitched with desire despite being spent.

They stayed like that for a moment, her tongue gently encircling him. His cock left her lips with a soft plop, lips shiny with saliva. He slid to the floor, their clothes a mess around them. His chest heaved with effort. She was breathing hard too, staring at him.

He licked his lips and leaned in, kissing her gently. She clung on to the kiss, inhaling his scent.

When they broke apart, they locked eyes, the obviousness of their inappropriate moment hanging between them. He was a little ashamed, sitting naked in her room, having sex after what was almost a suicide attempt. He was still breathing hard, heart beating fast from anxiety and arousal.

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to give her everything and more. He wanted to be the light in her eyes, but that was a foolish thought, a pipe dream, and a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.

Still, he wanted.

But somehow, those eyes didn’t look so dead anymore. Somehow, they were really looking at him, not just through him. She wordlessly scooted towards him and placed her head against him, ear against his chest. He wrapped her arms around her protectively, resting his head on her hair. From this position, he could see the sun tattoo that was underneath her left shoulder blade. Behind her beating heart. It was a simple tattoo, a circle with dashes around it. He traced it with his fingertip absentmindedly. He could guess who it was for.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. Held him like she was never going to let go.

–

masterpost

pairing(s):yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, ??? x reader

summary:Min Yoongi is falling hard, but he’s not making much progress. Kim Seokjin is lovable is a weird way. Jeon Jungkook makes bad choices and we try to keep him alive, until he’s too intuitive that is.

warnings:non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug and alcohol use, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts

–

When Yoongi heard her door open, his head whipped around from the kitchen. He had been in the middle of cutting some green onions. She emerged from her room like an animal from a cage. Black long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, carrying a tan shopper’s bag. She didn’t seem to notice him, engrossed in her thoughts as she rummaged through the bag for a moment.

He felt he had to say something. Anything.

“Do you know where the scissors are? I can’t find them,” he called.

She looked up, blinking at him. Her hair was half-tied back, lashes dark and smokey but her lips were a peach-pink instead of the red she commonly wore. And those dark, dark eyes. He looked away from them, fixating on the wall next to her head.

“Ah, Yoongi, you didn’t use the kitchen scissors for a package, did you?” she replied, somewhat exasperatedly. “Or maybe I misplaced them…”

She hurried over, opening the drawers one by one. He noticed her nails were red and black striped. They weren’t before – she must have done them herself. She opened each drawer hurriedly but delicately, accentuating her long fingers. He had a sudden image of those nails raking down his back, pinpricks of pain clouding his mind–

“Here they are.” She placed the scissors next to the cutting board and he nodded hurriedly to make the image disappear.

“Thanks.” It came out terser than he wanted it to but she seemed not to notice. She was slipping black gloves on her hands as she turned away.

“Don’t forget to open the window when you cook meat,” she reminded. She must have seen the steak on the counter.

“I’ll remember.”

He could hear her putting on her shoes. His heart pounded mercilessly in his chest. He took a deep breath and turned around, her name falling from his lips breathlessly.

She raised her eyebrows at him as she put on her black face mask.

“Do you… know how to sing?”

-

Listening to the weekly rundown as a lot like listening to a teacher’s lecture. She stood in that room once again, except Seokjin was pacing, reading off his notebook as he recited the names, times, and places she needed to be. How much to bring. How much they would give.

She could remember it all quite well at this point, but that didn’t mean she needed to look at him. She didn’t need to look at his pretty dark hair covering half of his forehead or his well-fitted pale pink shirt and tailored white pants that were mysteriously not see-through. Just focus on the people. Times. Places. Not Kim Seokjin.

“Are you listening?” he was saying sharply.

“Of course, I am,” she replied automatically. “You just said Jungkook, 2300, at that god-awful club I hate going to.”

A small smirk appeared on his lips. “That’s my Moon.”

Please stop, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. She did not like these mental invasions and conjuring ideas in her head. He was doing it on purpose. He was planting them in her mind on purpose.

“Moon.”

She jumped. Somehow, he was right next to her.

“You seem to be on autopilot today,” he observed. He was wearing a pair of round glasses that he definitely did not need. Aesthetics, he would say if she asked.

“I’m not.” It was a stubborn response. He raised his brow at it.

“I cannot have you airheaded. I’ll have someone else pick up your week,” he said sternly.

Her eyes went wide and she grabbed his left arm, shaking her head furiously. “No. No, Seokjin, I’m fine. I can do it.” She squeezed his upper arm, looking up at him. Don’t take this away from me.

And then, Seokjin did something uncharacteristic.

He winced.

She let go immediately. She had felt… something under there. And then, through the light fabric, she realized there was a bandage wrapped around his bicep. Even a bump of flattened gauze.

“You… got injured?”

He scoffed. “It’s just a scrape.”

She looked up at him. No one bandaged scrapes. Not like that. She hadn’t managed to feel it enough to determine if it was a gunshot wound or a cut. He seemed annoyed and his features hardened. He wasn’t going to say what it was even if she asked. 

“Who did it?”

A small smile appeared on his lips. “I’m fine, my darling. Are you worried?”

“I wanted to know if I should be worried,” she snapped.

He chuckled and placed a hand on her head. She tried to angrily swat it away but stopped as soon as his sentence finished.

“I’m trying my hardest to stay alive for you.”

-

“It’s just a demo, there’s no need to–”

“No, no, I want to do this right. It should sound good if you’re going to present this to a company.”

Yoongi readjusted the headset on his ears and sighed. They had been at it for a little while now. He had helped her warm up her voice, match pitch, recorded a little, but all in all, her voice sounded a little too robotic. It wasn’t her fault – she wasn’t a singer after all, only his roommate helping him out for one song. He could have attempted to sing it himself but he knew it wouldn’t have the feel he wanted.

Their makeshift setup was a table between them, her face right in front of the mic, his computer and monitors beside him.

She had the lyrics in front of her, hand on her lips, mouthing the words.

“Yoongi… is this about you?” she asked quietly.

A sudden embarrassment came over him. He bit his lip and looked away, fixating on the floor.

“Well… yeah,” he confessed. “It’s about how I feel. About the push and pull of dreams, what it means to have a dream, feeling trapped because maybe my dream wasn’t what I thought it was. Or maybe… maybe I don’t have one anymore.”

It was hard to say out loud what it was really about, but his lyrics were crystal clear.

She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. Remembered her whole world, her sunshine and her planet, the one she had turned into her reason for living. The beautiful heart-shaped smile, the silly laugh. The times when she sat next to the record player and watched him dance to the music. Who needed a sofa when a dance floor was more important?

He sensed a shift in her demeanor. He looked up from the floor to see her closed eyes, clenched hands on top on the papers he had scribbled his lyrics on. He wondered what she was thinking about.

Music, she had always thought, was fun. It had brought her joy until it didn’t. She had agreed to this because, to be honest, she had been curious about what he was working on. But she hadn’t expected Min Yoongi to write something so vulnerable and relatable.

She opened her eyes.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

It was the strangest thing. Her eyes were like black glass, shimmering. When she sang, it was clear and heavy at the same time. Heavy with emotion, a longing he couldn’t place.

“So far away…”

-

“You wear glasses?”

Yoongi looked up from the kitchen counter. He had been staring at his phone, a yellow notepad on the counter as he scribbled notes. “Oh. No, I just thought…” He shrugged, taking them off his face. “I thought they would get me into the lyric writing mood,” he trailed off awkwardly. “They were cheap and I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”

She gestured to him as she took a glass out of the cabinet. “Put them back on. They make you look studious.”

He laughed dryly, putting them back on hesitantly. “Yeah, but do they make me look attractive?”

“Yes.”

He froze. That was not the answer he expected. He stared at his notepad pointedly. For some reason, he couldn’t bear to look up and see her expression. He didn’t want to see her stifling a giggle or smirking at him.

“Are you not finishing the song we were working on?”

He chewed on his lip and lifted his head, seeing her standing on the far side of the kitchen, looking at him curiously. No teasing smile on those pink lips. As far as he could see, she wasn’t making fun of him.

“I am finishing it. It… takes time.” And I don’t like confronting that part of myself. He tried to play it off, but he knew it wasn’t working. It was making everything more awkward.

She nodded, her dark flowy waves spilling over her shoulders. Then she gestured to the space between them, looking apologetic. “Oh, I’m not avoiding you or anything,” she said hurriedly, rubbing the back of her head. “I don’t want to read any of your unfinished lyrics… I know that stuff can be private. You might not want me to see them.”

“Oh…” He continued chewing on his lip. It was a bad habit. “That’s respectful of you.”

She cringed a bit as if she hadn’t meant to say anything. “Ah, well, you know… I don’t want to accidentally see anything you’re not ready to share yet.”

It was the strangest feeling of déjà vu. It was almost as if he was looking into a mirror, but that was impossible, because her eyes were dark glass that reflected nothing. It came and went, leaving him wondering what he was supposed to infer from that moment. Then he realized the hands holding the glass were black gloves. Ripped straight leg black jeans and a huge black hoodie with a black sweatshirt underneath. She suddenly reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

“I’ll wash my glass when I get back, okay? I have to go.”

He cleaned her glass after she left. There were no other dishes. He washed it carefully, looking into the clear crystal, seeing through it but also seeing nothing at all.

-

Something was wrong.

“Come on, Moon-noona.”

Hands clawing at her sweatshirt, dragging her closer in the cramped private room of the club she hated, but she was too distracted with something else. She grabbed his hands before they could slide up.

“Jungkook, what have you been taking?”

He chuckled, sliding across the wall, batting his lashes at her. His pupils were unfocused, brown irises quivering.

“Fun shit.”

He laughed and laughed, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever said. The music was so loud that the bass seemed to be vibrating the thick smoky air. Either that or it was the bodies hitting the walls as they drunkenly danced and humped each other.

He hooked his fingers on the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her close. He reeked of alcohol.

“Let’s have some fun before we get to business, yeah?” he murmured breathlessly, grinning.

“What did you take?” she asked sternly, ignoring his words.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, some of something?”

She did not like this one bit. She had to pry his fingers off her. “No transaction today.”

“Aw, come on,” he whined, wrapping his arms around her waist and yanking her back to him.

She swore. His arms were like a vice. He pressed her against his dark green satin dress shirt, and even through her layers she was reminded the guy was fucking ripped. Ripped, drunk, and high on who-knows-what. Probably ecstasy. Great. She kept her waist away from his, planting her feet on the floor.

“You’re too uptight, noona.”

He was not supposed to touch her, but he was not supposed to be this drunk or this high either. If it was anyone of her other customers, she would have left without saying anything. But he was basically a kid. A kid who was trying to take even more, who probably thought he was invincible.

She had Seokjin on speed dial. She could reach into her pocket and call him with one hand and his lackeys would come handle the situation immediately. She could.

“Jungkook, look at me.”

He tried to, brain trying to compute as the battle between stimulant and depressant waged on.

“Let me go.”

He pouted. “You don’t like me? Everybody likes me.”

“Let. Me. Go.”

He let her go, slowly, still frowning. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

She drew back, watching him closely. “There is no guy,” she said absentmindedly.

“There’s always a guy,” he said exasperatedly. “Or girl, or whatever. Even if they’re imaginary.”

She would have to report the cancelled sale to Seokjin. He would be pissed. “There’s no imaginary anybody,” she replied dismissively, trying to figure out what to say so Seokjin wouldn’t go apeshit on this poor kid. Definitely wasn’t going to mention any touching.

“There is; you just refuse to admit it.”

A chill went up her spine. “What did you say?”

He shrugged, sliding to the floor, holding his shoulders. “You’re in your head, Moon-noona. In there all day, letting them dictate you like a puppet.”

Her eyes narrowed. She reached into her hoodie and threw the tiny plastic bag at him. It hit him in the chest and slid down onto the floor. He blinked multiple times, looking at the packet of white powder and then her retreating back as she left the room.

“On the house.”

-

4.

–

masterpost

pairing(s):yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, ??? x reader

summary:Min Yoongi might be getting closer to his roommate… maybe? Jeon Jungkook is a little bit of an asshole (but only on the outside). Suicidal thoughts. Maybe you realize who ??? is now. Kim Seokjin might not be an asshole.

warnings: non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug use, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, abusive relationship including threatening violence

–

She came out of her room dressed in loose dark grey jeans and a billowy white cropped t-shirt. Black belt and black bomber jacket to add to the casualness of it all. He only noticed this because he was laying on the hardwood.

“Why are you on the floor?”

He made a noise of annoyance and rolled over, swiping on his phone.

“Rough day?”

He mumbled. “Something like that.”

She swept her hair up into a loose ponytail. He noticed it was a little shorter now, but still past her shoulders. She squatted down next to him, behind his phone.

“Want me to order you some pizza?”

He grumbled, eyes flicking upwards. “I’m not a child.”

The corner of her mouth curved upwards. “Nope, you’re an adult and that’s why you can eat what you want.”

He sighed and placed his phone on his chest. “Don’t want to eat.”

She nodded, noting his disheveled appearance. Ripped up jeans and a loose grey and black hoodie that seemed to swallow him. His black bucket hat was only half on, and his short hair stuck out. She reached into her jacket pocket and placed the grey beanie on his chest. He cracked open an eye and peered at it.

“I washed it.”

“… Thanks.” It smelled nice. A soft scent, lightly fruity. He noticed she was wearing those leather gloves she always wore when she left the house. “Off to party?” he joked.

She huffed. “Do I seem like the partying type to you?”

He looked up at her. She was staring at her phone. He noticed she was wearing red lipstick. She abruptly turned from her phone and his eyes went straight to the ceiling.

“You want to listen to some music?” she said suddenly. She stood up, not waiting for his answer. He sat up, feeling awkward that he was still on the floor. She was walking up the to record player. He had never seen her use it in the entire time he had been living here. Her eyes scanned the shelves and she picked a record out. She was careful sliding it out of the sleeve, raising the lid of the player and setting the record down carefully. He blinked as slow rhythm guitar and piano began to play.

He frowned. “I don’t know English.”

She chuckled. “Me neither. But it’s kind of nice to just listen even if you don’t understand.”

It wasn’t his first pick but it was quite nice. The record player had a good set of speakers set up behind it. She nodded to herself and cocked her head towards him.

“You know how to work one of these, I presume?”

“Uh… yeah. But you said…”

She looked at him pointedly. “Don’t break it.” She looked back to the record player and he saw her black eyes mist over with an unknown emotion. “It used to belong to someone important, someone who believed in the power of music.”

She turned and walked towards the door, grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet.

“Was it–” he began, but she cut him off.

“Don’t disrespect it.”

And she was gone.

-

“What’s your real name, anyway?”

“Moon.”

Jungkook threw his head back. He had a fun laugh despite being a piece of shit. “That’s not your real name.”

“It’s my real name to you.”

He chuckled and rolled his head on his shoulders. The party was going wild downstairs, but they were alone, making their transaction in one of the bedrooms of the rich house of someone she doubted even Jungkook knew. He was sitting on the bed, hands propping him up from behind, legs wide open. If he wasn’t going to give her the money soon, she was going to kick him straight in the balls.

“Did you pick it to be edgy?” he teased.

“No, someone else picked it for me,” she replied darkly.

The bass radiated throughout the walls of the house. Jungkook was wearing a loose white dress shirt and black ripped jeans that molded to his body. She had been right. Dude was fucking ripped.

His lips twisted in thoughtfulness. “And you just kept it? You can just change it.”

“Jungkook if you don’t give me the fucking money, I’m leaving.”

He grinned. “But I want to talk to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Every second you waste is another second of not having the fun shit.”

His eyes found hers in the moonlight. “But talking to you is the fun shit.”

She felt a muscle under her eyes twitch. Instead of responding, she sighed exaggeratedly and turned around, glove reaching for the doorknob.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Jungkook said hastily.

She turned to see him pulling up the hem of his dress shirt way too far to reveal his chiseled abs before reaching into his jeans pocket for a fat wad of cash. She hated that. Cash by itself looked messy and suspicious. She didn’t know if Jungkook was an idiot or ignorant.

Her eyes scanned over it as he held it out. She plucked it out of his hand, checking the bills. Usually she didn’t need to do that, but she always checked for first timers.

“It’s real,” Jungkook assured, almost childishly. He would have been cute in another dimension where he wasn’t paying for cocaine.

She shrugged and shoved it in the pocket of her loose jeans. And out came the paper packet from the innermost pocket of her bomber jacket. She placed it on the nightstand next to the bed.

“Couldn’t hand it to me?”

Her eyes flickered towards him and the playful smirk on his lips. She raised an eyebrow at him.

He pouted. “Come on. I wasn’t going to touch you. I heard what the Guide said.”

“Uh huh. Is that why you’re tempted on borderline flashing me?”

He chewed on his lip, trying to stifle his grin. “Ah, you see right through me.”

She backed up. “We’re done here.”

“Hey, um…”

She paused at the door. “What?”

“Do you hate me or something?”

What happened to you being a cocky ass bitch? Her head tilted, looking down at him on the bed. He was frowning, fiddling with his shirt. “Are you upset that your charms don’t work on me?”

He scratched his head. “Well, they usually work, but no, it’s…” His eyes shifted nervously. “It’s like you’re dead inside.”

She didn’t reply. His brown orbs found hers. He found her eyes to be strangely dark, almost without light. It was weird how joyless they seemed.

“What a psychoanalysis,” she finally said. “You’re Freud himself, aren’t you?”

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

She pointed to the paper packet. “Don’t overdo it. A dead customer isn’t a paying one, so don’t get so fucked up you can’t see me again.” She tilted her chin towards him and gave him a small smirk. “That’s what you want, right?”

And she was gone.

-

What if I just did a little?

The thin white lines taunted her.

I just don’t want to feel anymore.

The thin white lines sat on the glass palette on the unnaturally clean table in her room. Her phone was propped up behind it with a wadded-up sweatshirt.

“I really admire you for not starting.” He was talking, the memory playing like a movie in her head. She remembered his laugh, so full and free. “I’m glad, because it means you’ll always be sober to take care of my dumb ass.”

And what if you’re not here?

She was staring at the picture on her phone. Two smiles, one she hadn’t seen for a long time in the mirror and another a little heart-shaped. She turned the screen off abruptly, not wanting to see it anymore.

“You have to stop!” Why had she shouted at him? She shouldn’t have. Not then. “What happened to wanting to detox?”

“It’s too fucking hard.” Remembering his sobbing and crying hurt the most. “It hurts so much. I have to go.”

“Don’t you step out that door. I won’t come running after you this time.”

“Fuck, can’t you be sympathetic? You don’t fucking understand!”

She stared at the poisonous lines in front of her.

“You’re my cure. I can do it, I swear.”

“You’re a liar,” she whispered quietly. She stared at the lines and wondered if she could end it herself. And, just like every other time, she sighed and carefully swept the lines back into a small plastic bag. Carefully wiped everything clean with an alcohol wipe and then spraying a strong ammonia solution. She honestly didn’t know if it did anything to destroy the evidence but it seemed good enough.

She picked up her phone to see their faces together once again. The delete button taunted her, knowing she wouldn’t do it no matter how much seeing those smiles tore her up inside.

I’m not off the deep end. She kept telling herself that. I’m functioning just fine.

-

“Could you give me your opinion on something?”

She appeared at the bathroom door in her plastic gloves, hair tied back. She had been cleaning the kitchen.

“You called, sir?” She dragged out the words, mocking him, but she had come to the bathroom door anyway. He was too nervous to care. Yoongi fiddled with the black cap on his head and then removed it abruptly.

“Hat or no hat?”

She snickered. “Hat, of course.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

She rolled her eyes. “You look like a thirty-year-old man with your short hair.”

“What?”

“Like a salaryman but worse because you’re trying to look cool.”

Yoongi crammed the cap back on his head. “Are you saying I don’t look cool?” He glared at her in the mirror.

“Not with your short hair. Should probably grow it out at least a little,” she commented. She made a face at his shirt. “Where are you going in a bright green polo?”

He frowned. “I’m going to perform.”

“Do you sing for the church choir or…?”

They stared at each other though the mirror.

“Is it… not good?”

“I mean you look better in the clothes you normally wear. The hoodies and shit.”

He scrunched his nose and pushed past her, hurrying back to his room. She called after him.

“I mean you can wear whatever. I was just assuming you did some kind of hip hop because of the bass I always hear from your room.”

His head popped out of the room. “Oh shit. Am I too loud?”

She shrugged, going back to the sink where she resumed scrubbing. “Some kind of big concert you’re going to?”

His voice radiated from the room. “Uh, something like that. Opening for a pretty big underground rapper. Runch Randa.”

She tried not to burst into laughter. “Wow, what a name,” she whispered to the suds.

Yoongi emerged from his room; cap now turned into bucket hat to hide even more of his short hair. Hoodie with a brand name across the front and loose jeans.

“Is this better?”

She looked up for only a second before going back to the sink. “Do you feel more comfortable?”

He looked down as if to ask his own body. “I mean… yeah. Do I seem too relaxed though?”

She shrugged as she went at the sides of the sink with the steel wool. “You’re going to perform, aren’t you? You should be comfortable in yourself.” She was busy rinsing the sink so she didn’t hear him mumble to himself.

“Some days I don’t even want to be myself,” he muttered, hurrying to the bathroom to look at himself one last time. Minutes later he rushed out, grabbing his shoes.

“Good luck,” she called, waving a wet gloved hand.

“… T-thanks,” he said awkwardly before shutting the door.

When he came home later that night, there was takeout fried chicken on the counter waiting for him. A note scribbled beside it – Hope it went well. He meant to thank her for it in the coming weeks, but her hours seemed as irregular as ever and eventually too much time passed for him to casually bring it up again.

But he never forgot.

-

She hated this stupid room. The stupid black leather sofa. The marble coffee table. The plush navy, peach, and cream carpet. She doubted Seokjin had picked any of this out.

Well, except for the gun on the coffee table.

“Moon, come here.”

He was alone more often with her now. She wasn’t sure if this was because he wanted it that way or not, but she wouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

His brown orbs darkened. His blazer was tossed lazily on the sofa, so he was in his black tie, striped white and pale blue dress shirt and black slacks. There was even a gold collar pin. He was a showoff.

“Don’t make me pick up the gun, Moon.”

Go ahead, blast my head off. She sighed and closed the distance between them. Instead of sitting beside him like he gestured, she sat down on the marble coffee table in front of him, putting herself between him and the gun.

He smirked. “That’s a good girl. I like your outfit today.”

She had worn her giant fluffy white jacket and a large black sweatshirt underneath. Bare legs, chunky heels. Hair loose and messy, lips stained red. And, of course, the black gloves. “You always like when I dress like one of your toys.”

His eyes flashed but he chose not to comment on it. He leaned forward, watching her reaction. She seemed almost bored, staring at the wall behind his head. He reached out, placing his fingertips on her knee. She twitched her knee tersely, his fingers slipping off.

He hummed. “Still not over him, I see.”

“If this is a therapy session, I’d rather pay a profess–”

“Look at me.”

The black holes went from the wall to his eyes. He almost shivered from the eye contact. They stared at each other, as if it was some kind of contest. He scooted up to the edge of the sofa. Their knees touched and she visibly flinched at the contact. Her brow furrowed.

“It’s not your fault.”

She glared at him, but said nothing.

He leaned forward even more and now their breath was mixing. She could smell his sharp cologne that reeked of money. He always seemed to reek of money and she wasn’t even poor.

“I don’t want you high,” she said sternly.

He was centimeters away from her face. “I’m never high when I’m with you. Not anymore.”

She gave him a disbelieving snort.

“I’m not lying. Look at me.”

And now she was looking deep, deep into those brown eyes, those brown eyes like hot honey, eyes that knew her better than anyone else alive. Seokjin really was a handsome man, a beautiful mess.

“This is stupid. You’re not even attracted to me,” she whispered.

“Not true.” He wasn’t smirking. He was only gazing into her eyes, falling into oblivion. Not really because he wanted to ignite them again. He knew he didn’t have that capability. “You have always been my Moon.”

“That was a name given to me.” She didn’t have to say who.

“That doesn’t mean he was the one who thought of it.”

Her mouth went dry.

“You were always his satellite.”

She chewed on her lower lip.

“Now you orbit no one.”

She was about to look down but he reached up and gently tipped her head back up.

“Look at me when I kiss you.”

And he pressed his lips onto hers.

It was not like the messy kisses during a party night. It was not like the kisses after falling into arms. It was not like the kisses after a rough fight or the kisses during laughter or the passionate kisses when there was too much energy and there needed to be a release.

It was a kiss like no other, because there were too many feelings and too many unsaid words.

He had soft, plush lips that gently pressed against hers. If it was an act, it was a good one because she was falling for it. He placed a hand on her thigh, not sliding upwards, only to steady himself as he pressed into her, breathing her scent, making her heart beat fast. He was unexpectedly gentle, almost shy. She placed a gloved hand over his and he pulled away, eyes slowly opening as he broke apart.

Her heart thudded in her ears. “What happened to looking at you?” she murmured.

He gave her a small smile and for once it felt like there was no malintent. “I didn’t say I had to look at you.”

Their hands were still on top of each other. He pulled his hand out from beneath hers and brushed her cheek with his fingers, smiling at her fondly.

“No deliveries this week. I’ll do them for you.”

And then he left the room, leaving her sitting on the marble coffee table, gun beside her. She didn’t move for what seemed like a full minute. It felt like time had stopped. She turned to look at the gun, seeing the safety on.

Not that it mattered because when she picked it up, she realized it wasn’t even loaded.

-

“Here’s this month’s rent.”

She took it from him with a silent nod. She was about to close the door to her room.

“Hey… uh. Have you been alright? I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t seem like yourself.”

He couldn’t exactly describe what that meant but she seemed out of it. She seemed to consider a moment before responding.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Yoongi.”

And she closed the door.

It gave him a sense of unease. She seemed to be quarantining herself in her room like some kind of self-isolation prison sentence. Before this week, she had noted his longer hair, telling him, “Finally you don’t look like a depressed businessman who spilled coffee on his only suit.”

“What do I look like, then?” he had joked.

“A cool music producer or an adoptable kitten, I can’t decide.”

She called him cool. Him, Min Yoongi, cool. Which was fair – if he could say so himself – but it also strangely made him swell with pride, which determined one thing for him.

He was maybe, kind of, oh no, definitely not…

“Get a grip,” he scolded himself.

-

3.

–

masterpost