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About You

[jungkook x Y/N] [just another self-indulgent 3.9k+ mild angst fic]

-

Your foot taps softly in sync with the beat of the song you’re listening to. Strange, you think. This was yours and his song. And now, as you try not to slip on the platform waiting for the train to arrive, you feel nothing.

It was just a song.

-

“Come dance with me.” Jungkook giggles as he stands on the couch. His foot playfully nudges your thighs, urging you to follow.

And follow you do.

If he were asking you to follow him to the depths of the ocean, you would. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the man who safely held your heart in his hands.

He gently grabs your arms to guide them towards his shoulders, then softly and sweetly, his own hands slide down to your hips.

“This is nice,” you whisper. Eyes shying away from his; instead resting your gaze at his lip ring. Jungkook slowly sways both your bodies to the melody, careful not to push either one of you off the couch.

“It is,” he hums. The close proximity of your warm bodies has you feeling the vibrations from his chest to yours. “This song’s my favorite ever since I learned that my parents danced to this song on their wedding day,” he muses.

“You trying to tell me something, Jeon?” You tease as your hand caresses the back of his neck. Jungkook once again giggles and this time, it’s his eyes that shies away from yours.

“Yeah, someday,” he trails off. His lips ghosting over yours and you believe this is the love you dreamt about since you were nine, finally materializing—all yours to take.

“I wanna marry you someday, Y/N”

You feel it from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair—you are finally loved wholly.

-

The blaring horn of the oncoming train breaks you out of your reverie. Clutching the strap of your bag, you hurry along the commuters to the train.

Sat on the far end of the car, you lower the volume of your headphones as the next song plays.

Yet again, the memory comes to you in waves. You await for the pit of longing and regret to follow, but strangely, you no longer feel anything.

Long gone are the nights when the very same memory of Jungkook washes every sanity you have and floods you with heart-wrenching pain. The what-if's and if-only’s were keeping you away from a good night's rest and staying with you until breakfast.

A small smile graces your lips as you remember how wrecked you were. You're once again relieved as you remember surviving those tormenting days. You're here now, despite thinking you couldn't live without him.

How dramatic of you.

But looking back, you truly didn't know how to cope with the loss of true love.

How could you have gone without Jungkook's antics during Friday nights—movie marathon turning into a pillow fight, dinner at midnight, and impulsive late night drives around the neighborhood listening to your favorite album on loop.

It was nine years of your life, in which you have grown and adapted his habits as yours and him, yours.

As the train passes by a familiar building, a new sadness creeps up on you. It's not the loneliness you felt before when the loss of Jungkook was still fresh, rather, it's a yearning sadness. You lament over the memories remaining just as is.

No more nights at his place, no more brunch at the corner deli by your street, and no more whispered love confessions between heated kisses.

You wonder how long until this yearning of yours hardens and acclimates. Would it take as long as getting over the simple mention of Jungkook's name or the numbing towards the memory-filled songs you onced listened to? For years, your family and friends tiptoed around you, careful not to mention Jungkook's name. Headphones and vinyls were stashed away in boxes at the attic in fear of coming across a song that you danced to with your then-lover. You worked hard to bully down the angsty feelings that came with the memories, and now, you feel nothing at the remembrance of Jungkook.

You weren't one for cheesy quotes, but you suppose it's true what they say, "time heals all wounds".

Never have I dealt with anything as difficult as my own soul.

Imam Al-Ghazali

Do you ever look at guys hands and think fuck yes

just wanna revive the first fic i wrote

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

baby fever⼂k.nj

summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

parings: bf!namjoon x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, namjoon is in love

wc: 1.7k

a/n: hi hi! wanted to quickly say i’m on vacation rn, hence the slow updates but! big things are coming soon ;) im so excited to share! for now, i hope u enjoy this short oneshot, im actually so very proud of it, i was giggling, kicking my feet while writing this </3

"according to statistics, the average individual devotes approximately half a year of their life patiently waiting for traffic lights to transition from red to green."

his statement elicited an amused laugh from you, bordering on a light-hearted scoff. you cast a sidelong glance at him, raising your eyebrows in playful skepticism. "well, that sounds like quite a creative excuse to evade obtaining a driver's license."

a soft chuckle escapes him, his hand playfully swaying yours in gentle synchronization as you stroll along the serene lakeside in the park. "it's true," he asserts, meeting your gaze with a mischievous grin, creating a brief moment of shared complicity before you both resume gazing ahead.

"and besides," he interjects, tilting his head slightly in a contemplative manner "opting for bicycling and walking is infinitely more enjoyable, not to mention immensely beneficial for the environment."

you shake your head in mild disbelief, unimpressed by his narrow-mindedness and his pretentious vocabulary. "well then, i suppose i shall retire from my role as your personal chauffeur—in fact," pausing for dramatic effect, you continue, "i'll go as far as relinquishing my license, selling my car, and indulging myself in that coveted prada bag i've long desired."

that prompted him to throw his head back in a burst of laughter, his eyes brimming with amusement as he glanced at you. "so dramatic," he remarked, gently lifting your interlocked hands and planting a tender kiss on the back of yours, releasing a soft breath of laughter through his nose.

a subtle tsk of annoyance escaped your lips, accompanied by a discreet roll of your eyes as your head turns away from him. you find it impossible to suppress the sly grin that stealthily spreads across your lips.

"you know," he begins, his words trembling with a hint of laughter that gradually subsides. his gaze shifts downwards, fixed upon his own feet, attempting to suppress a smile. "i find it incredibly attractive," he admits, a sly grin playing on his lips as he turns to face you once more, his posture slightly bowed, leaving you weak in the knees. "when you're behind the wheel," he clarifies, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as you avert your gaze, feeling a gentle blush warm your cheeks, however subtle it may be.

"oh, so am i exempt from the rules? can i single-handedly destroy the planet?" you playfully quip, a sly grin playing upon your lips as your gaze roams everywhere but his face.

he allows his eyes to linger on the side of your face for a heartbeat longer, before he subtly clears his throat and returns his focus forward. giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he finally responds, his voice carrying a touch of mischief, "yes," he pauses, a slow, confident grin spreading across his lips, "without a doubt."

laughter spills effortlessly from your lips, and you can't resist playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. the gentle collision causes him to stumble ever so slightly, his balance momentarily disrupted, but a massive grin radiates across his face, unable to be contained.

as your attention drifts away from the conversation, a delightful sight captures your eyes. "oh," you exclaim, unable to hide your enthusiasm. "look, ducks!" a grin lights up your face as you observe mothers and children congregating near the tranquil lake, joyfully feeding these charming creatures.

namjoon follows the direction of your gaze, and a gentle smile graces his lips. he steals a quick glance at you before returning his focus to the scene ahead. "would you like to go feed them?"

without a moment's hesitation, your response is immediate. like an exuberant child, you eagerly pull him along, almost breaking into a jog as you make your way towards the spot where the ducks are already being fed.

your hand slips away from his, and you gracefully lower yourself into a crouch near the edge of the serene lake. in perfect formation, ducks accompanied by their adorable ducklings gracefully glide through the water, forming enchanting lines. the sheer cuteness of the scene elicits a delightful flutter in your heart, filling you with pure joy.

namjoon positions himself behind you, his hands casually nestled in the pockets of his jeans. with tender admiration, he gazes down at you, a radiant smile gracing his features, exuding warmth and affection.

"i have no bread," you pout, or at least that's the conclusion he draws from the palpable disappointment lacing your voice.

“i can go get some; there's a bakery not too far—" his words are abruptly halted by an unfamiliar, yet endearingly tiny voice, capturing his attention. it doesn't take long for him to realize that the voice belongs to a little girl who has appeared nearby.

"would you like to share with me?" the little girl bravely approaches you, and your face instantly lights up with a radiant smile in response to her sweet offer. as she draws near, you realize she stands at the same height as you, since you were crouched down, appearing no older than four or five years old.

“oh," you exhale a soft, melodic laugh, your eyebrows lifting in surprise. "you are so incredibly kind," you remark with genuine warmth, tilting your head ever so slightly. her beaming smile grows even wider upon receiving your compliment, her innocent delight radiating in response.

as the distant calls of what appears to be her mother draw nearer, the three of you instinctively turn to face her.

“ava!" the mother pants as she finally catches up, coming to a stop. "didn't i tell you to stop bothering people?" her face adopts a pouting expression, a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her underlying irritation, her eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“but, mom," ava whines in such an adorably plaintive tone that it elicits a shared snicker between you and namjoon. "she doesn't have bread!" she huffs, her frustration evident, prompting the mother to heave a sigh of surrender.

“i'm truly sorry," the woman interjects, her eyes shifting between you and namjoon, offering apologetic smiles. "she's been going around handing bread to everyone she meets—"

“please, there's no need to worry," you assure her, your voice carrying a gentle tremor of laughter. your attention then shifts back to the little girl before you. "how about we feed them together?" you suggest, employing the softest, most endearing tone you can muster, aiming to ignite a sense of excitement in the young one. it proves successful as ava nods eagerly, brimming with anticipation.

with a carefree grace, she positions herself in front of you, leaning back casually against you. in response, you wrap an arm around her, your palm tenderly resting on her stomach. the scene proves to be utterly captivating, prompting namjoon to bite down on his lip in an effort to contain his smile—or perhaps even a squeal. either way, he finds the sight undeniably adorable, melting his heart in the process.

the mother approaches and stands next to namjoon, casting a smile in his direction before her gaze shifts to her daughter and you. her eyes brim with curiosity as she poses the question, "girlfriend? wife?"

although caught slightly off guard, namjoon responds with a warm smile, a sheepish laugh slipping past his lips. he looks down at you once again, his eyes sparkling with affection and adoration. almost dreamily, he confirms, "girlfriend." the woman chuckles softly, captivated by the enchanting connection between the two of you.

completely unaware, you wholeheartedly engage in feeding the ducks with ava. together, you toss pieces of bread onto the lake, captivating the ducks' attention. to your sheer joy, one of the ducks emerges from the water and gently takes bread from ava's hand, prompting her to squeal in pure delight. your laughter harmonizes with hers, forming a symphony of happiness and carefree bliss.

namjoon's heart leaps, skips, and dances within his chest, each beat amplified in intensity. the way you engage with ava, emanating an innate gentleness and kindness, strikes a chord deep within him. it's a tender scene that tugs at his heartstrings, leaving him captivated by the beauty of your nurturing nature.

lost in his captivated state, namjoon remains oblivious to the fact that you have risen to your feet, gracefully making your way towards him. only when ava runs back to her mother's embrace does he snap out of his reverie, his gaze shifting to you as you approach him with a gentle grace.

you come to stand beside him, and almost instinctively, his arm drapes over your shoulders, drawing you close as you face the mother and daughter together.

“now, say thank you,” the mother playfully prompts ava, gently swaying her in her arms. her smile extends towards you, and in a shy, sweet whisper, ava utters her gratitude, causing your heart to soar with joy.

“thank you," you reply, placing emphasis on the word 'you.' "without you, i wouldn't have been able to feed the ducks." your smile radiates with warmth and tenderness as you gaze at the little girl, a soft giggle escaping your lips, filled with genuine appreciation and delight.

engaging in heartfelt conversation, you share a few more words with the mother, building a connection even in the brief encounter. the exchange concludes with beaming smiles that radiate warmth and gratitude, as you bid each other farewell, the memory of the delightful interaction lingering in your hearts.

as you observe them walking away, namjoon's gaze shifts towards you, a sly smile gracing his lips. his hand tenderly caresses your shoulder, moving up and down in a soothing gesture as he speaks. "you would make an exceptional mother,"

the tone of his voice catches your attention, drawing your gaze to meet his. as you lock eyes, you notice the way he slightly purses his lips, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he's trying to contain a smile. with a knowing glance, you quickly catch on.

“absolutely not.”

“wait—” he bursts into laughter as you shake his arm off your shoulders and begin walking away. however, he swiftly follows suit, reaching from behind to wrap his arms around you, creating an endearing obstacle that makes it more challenging for both of you to walk

“you're absolutely insane," you playfully groan as he showers your neck, shoulder, and cheek with gentle kisses. he nuzzles into your hair, emitting a soft giggle that resonates with warmth and affection.

"one child won't hurt," he whispers softly, his words carrying a hint of mischief. you start to wiggle in an attempt to break free from his embrace, but he only tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you escape his affectionate hold.

Take My Hand

[jungkook x reader] [400+ angst; third and last part of Bad Omens/Ghost of You]

Bad Omens | Ghost of You

-

You were living in a loop.

You used to be oblivious of your state, but Jungkook promised to always explain what's going on every morning your life "resets".

Despite knowing that come midnight, you forget everything that happened, you reasoned that at least you get to spend the day with your husband. You made up for loss time—spent days watching movies on your bucket list, cooked and ate meals together, made love. You relived your honeymoon. You thought this was a chance for you to make up for the time stolen from you.

And while every night, your memory slips away with the darkness, Jungkook is accursed with the remembrance of your shared memories. Days turned to months and months to a year, everything and nothing changed.

Still, he would rather have this; you here now, than gone for good.

However, the days took a toll on your lifeless body. Each day that ended where you pretended to live, the light slipped further away from you and the abyss took its space. The first time you noticed this, it scared you. As morning came, so did Jungkook, and he dispelled those fears away.

But that only delayed the inevitable.

Now, you're afraid it's too late. You weren't religious—didn't believe in heaven and hell, but you still feared what comes after death. Particularly, yours. You realized that the time wasn't given to you like a gift, no. You loaned days that you can't pay and now it has come for its reparation.

You shared those fears to Jungkook, telling him that this must be the end of this charade. Assuming he would understand, you were surprised at the angry tears falling from Jungkook's eyes.

"You promised to never leave me," he reminds you. Afraid you'll slip away from him, he grips your wrist. His finger sinks into your skin and you cry. You can't feel the pain, but the sunken and rotten flesh of your arm throws you into a panic.

Your eyes shift from your arm to Jungkook's flushed face. He looks unperturbed, hands unwilling to let go. Instead, he pulls you by your hand, closer to him and kisses your torn flesh.

"Jungkook, can't you see, baby, I'm wasting away." You point out the obvious as you weakly try to pull your hand back. "This is wrong."

"No, you'll stay here with me," his tone indignant. You let out a sob, one he quickly catches with his mouth through a kiss.

"Stay with me, baby," he whispers into your lips. "Forever."

Dispirited, you whisper back, "Forever."

"We'll be fine," he assures you.

You let your tears freefall as you parrot his words.

About You

[jungkook x Y/N] [just another self-indulgent 3.9k+ mild angst fic]

-

Your foot taps softly in sync with the beat of the song you’re listening to. Strange, you think. This was yours and his song. And now, as you try not to slip on the platform waiting for the train to arrive, you feel nothing.

It was just a song.

-

“Come dance with me.” Jungkook giggles as he stands on the couch. His foot playfully nudges your thighs, urging you to follow.

And follow you do.

If he were asking you to follow him to the depths of the ocean, you would. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the man who safely held your heart in his hands.

He gently grabs your arms to guide them towards his shoulders, then softly and sweetly, his own hands slide down to your hips.

“This is nice,” you whisper. Eyes shying away from his; instead resting your gaze at his lip ring. Jungkook slowly sways both your bodies to the melody, careful not to push either one of you off the couch.

“It is,” he hums. The close proximity of your warm bodies has you feeling the vibrations from his chest to yours. “This song’s my favorite ever since I learned that my parents danced to this song on their wedding day,” he muses.

“You trying to tell me something, Jeon?” You tease as your hand caresses the back of his neck. Jungkook once again giggles and this time, it’s his eyes that shies away from yours.

“Yeah, someday,” he trails off. His lips ghosting over yours and you believe this is the love you dreamt about since you were nine, finally materializing—all yours to take.

“I wanna marry you someday, Y/N”

You feel it from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair—you are finally loved wholly.

-

The blaring horn of the oncoming train breaks you out of your reverie. Clutching the strap of your bag, you hurry along the commuters to the train.

Sat on the far end of the car, you lower the volume of your headphones as the next song plays.

Yet again, the memory comes to you in waves. You await for the pit of longing and regret to follow, but strangely, you no longer feel anything.

Long gone are the nights when the very same memory of Jungkook washes every sanity you have and floods you with heart-wrenching pain. The what-if's and if-only’s were keeping you away from a good night's rest and staying with you until breakfast.

A small smile graces your lips as you remember how wrecked you were. You're once again relieved as you remember surviving those tormenting days. You're here now, despite thinking you couldn't live without him.

How dramatic of you.

But looking back, you truly didn't know how to cope with the loss of true love.

How could you have gone without Jungkook's antics during Friday nights—movie marathon turning into a pillow fight, dinner at midnight, and impulsive late night drives around the neighborhood listening to your favorite album on loop.

It was nine years of your life, in which you have grown and adapted his habits as yours and him, yours.

As the train passes by a familiar building, a new sadness creeps up on you. It's not the loneliness you felt before when the loss of Jungkook was still fresh, rather, it's a yearning sadness. You lament over the memories remaining just as is.

No more nights at his place, no more brunch at the corner deli by your street, and no more whispered love confessions between heated kisses.

You wonder how long until this yearning of yours hardens and acclimates. Would it take as long as getting over the simple mention of Jungkook's name or the numbing towards the memory-filled songs you onced listened to? For years, your family and friends tiptoed around you, careful not to mention Jungkook's name. Headphones and vinyls were stashed away in boxes at the attic in fear of coming across a song that you danced to with your then-lover. You worked hard to bully down the angsty feelings that came with the memories, and now, you feel nothing at the remembrance of Jungkook.

You weren't one for cheesy quotes, but you suppose it's true what they say, "time heals all wounds".

do i go on the date or hang out with my two adorable nephews this weekend???? hmmm

About You

[jungkook x Y/N] [just another self-indulgent 700+ mild angst fic]

-

Your foot taps softly in sync with the beat of the song you’re listening to. Strange, you think. This was yours and his song. And now, as you try not to slip on the platform waiting for the train to arrive, you feel nothing.

It was just a song.

-

“Come dance with me.” Jungkook giggles as he stands on the couch. His foot playfully nudges your thighs, urging you to follow.

And follow you do.

If he were asking you to follow him to the depths of the ocean, you would. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the man who safely held your heart in his hands.

He gently grabs your arms to guide them towards his shoulders, then softly and sweetly, his own hands slide down to your hips.

“This is nice,” you whisper. Eyes shying away from his; instead resting your gaze at his lip ring. Jungkook slowly sways both your bodies to the melody, careful not to push either one of you off the couch.

“It is,” he hums. The close proximity of your warm bodies has you feeling the vibrations from his chest to yours. “This song’s my favorite ever since I learned that my parents danced to this song on their wedding day,” he muses.

“You trying to tell me something, Jeon?” You tease as your hand caresses the back of his neck. Jungkook once again giggles and this time, it’s his eyes that shies away from yours.

“Yeah, someday,” he trails off. His lips ghosting over yours and you believe this is the love you dreamt about since you were nine, finally materializing—all yours to take.

“I wanna marry you someday, Y/N”

You feel it from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair—you are finally loved wholly.

-

The blaring horn of the oncoming train breaks you out of your reverie. Clutching the strap of your bag, you hurry along the commuters to the train.

Sat on the far end of the car, you lower the volume of your headphones as the next song plays.

Yet again, the memory comes to you in waves. You await for the pit of longing and regret to follow, but strangely, you no longer feel anything.

Long gone are the nights when the very same memory of Jungkook washes every sanity you have and floods you with heart-wrenching pain. The what-if's and if-only’s were keeping you away from a good night's rest and staying with you until breakfast.

A small smile graces your lips as you remember how wrecked you were. You're once again relieved as you remember surviving those tormenting days. You're here now, despite thinking you couldn't live without him.

How dramatic of you.

But looking back, you truly didn't know how to cope with the loss of true love.

How could you have gone without Jungkook's antics during Friday nights—movie marathon turning into a pillow fight, dinner at midnight, and impulsive late night drives around the neighborhood listening to your favorite album on loop.

It was nine years of your life, in which you have grown and adapted his habits as yours and him, yours.

As the train passes by a familiar building, a new sadness creeps up on you. It's not the loneliness you felt before when the loss of Jungkook was still fresh, rather, it's a yearning sadness. You lament over the memories remaining just as is.

No more nights at his place, no more brunch at the corner deli by your street, and no more whispered love confessions between heated kisses.

You wonder how long until this yearning of yours hardens and acclimates. Would it take as long as getting over the simple mention of Jungkook's name or the numbing towards the memory-filled songs you onced listened to? For years, your family and friends tiptoed around you, careful not to mention Jungkook's name. Headphones and vinyls were stashed away in boxes at the attic in fear of coming across a song that you danced to with your then-lover. You worked hard to bully down the angsty feelings that came with the memories, and now, you feel nothing at the remembrance of Jungkook.

You weren't one for cheesy quotes, but you suppose it's true what they say, "time heals all wounds".

Baguio City: Life After Lights Out

There’s more to Baguio night market and dance clubs after five

For those who seek more than the usual tourist spots, Baguio offers a unique blend of music and drinks at Canto Bogchi Joint. Every weekend, the local indie scene takes over (thanks to Not Very Noise), filling the air with electrifying tunes. Forget the hustle and bustle of Session Road and the night market— the real action is on the dance floor at Canto, where homegrown bands unleash their music, shaking the city of Pines to its core. Whether you’re a fan of spine-tingling guitar solos or just want to warm up with a sick bassline, Canto is where the weekend comes alive.

You should be dancing

As the lights dim and all eyes focus on the corner stage, the air is charged with anticipation. The first chord sends a wave of excitement through the crowd. Soon, hips sway and heads nod to the beat of the song. The crowd, a diverse mix of students, artists, clocked-out workers, and tourists, becomes one as they press closer to the stage. It’s a melting pot of people—wherever you’re from and whether you’re a newbie or a patron of the Baguio indie scene, you’re an equal part of this community.

Canto’s stage isn’t just for local hopefuls looking for their big break. In fact, it has hosted known bands like Chicosci, who brought the house down riff after riff, turning what started as a laid-back jam session into a full-blown sonic rock out. Artists like Clara Benin included the sick joint on her Befriending My Tears tour stop and sang her heart out.

As much as big-name acts pull the masses, it’s bands like Rest Day Overtime, Amateurish, among others, that keep the true indie heartbeat pumping at Canto. These under-the-radar acts own the stage, bringing raw talent and unfiltered charm that can’t be taught — just felt. Miss them, and you’ll be missing the soul of the scene.

If you haven’t attended a gig at Canto, now is the best time to check the next gig date.

Lights Out, Words Gone | Lights Out, Words Spill - [yoongi x reader][2.4k+ friends to lovers, nonidol!au; light angst, smut, fluff] Exploration No. 5 - [namjoon x reader] [1k+ strangers to lovers, nonidol!au; fluff] Now That We Don't Talk | Not In The Same Way | Not Warriors | High - [seokjin x reader ft. hoseok] [3.5k+ lovers to strangers, breakup!au; angst, smut] Be My Mistake - [jhope x reader] [1.4k+ friends with benefits, celeb!au; smut, angst] Orbiting - 1° | 2° - 2,5° | 3° - 3,5° | 4° | 5° - [jungkook x reader ft. jimin] [5k+ friends with benefits, childhood friends to lovers, nonidol!au; smut—literally porn with a little bit of plot, light angst, fluff] Come As You Are, Doused In Mud - One | Two - [jimin x reader ft. taehyung] [5k+ circus!au, dead dove; smut ‼️ strong language and dark themes] Play It As It Lays - [taehyung x reader] [1.5k+ smut] [ONGOING] Bad Omens | Ghost of You - [jungkook x reader] [1.8k+ married!au; smut, angst] Untitled | Still Untitled - [jungkook x reader] [6k+ college!au; fluff] Bleach - [yoongi x reader] [1.3k+ angst, fluff]

A Daydream Away - [idol!yoongi x music producer!reader]

i wish people would normalize being lost in life and just not knowing anything. not knowing what you’re passionate about, where you want to live, what you want to do, where you want to go— or what lies next. as a society, we normalized going to school, finding a passion, getting a job, finding a partner, getting married, having kids, working hard to earn an honest living. but what about when shit just doesn’t go that way? you really just don’t know. and what’s even worse is, you don’t know why you don’t know or even where to start so you feel alone. you feel as though you’re a disappointment to your family. as if you failed in life. but you haven’t, it’s okay, to not know. to be lost. you have your whole life ahead of you to figure things out. patience is a virtue. there is no time limit on life. you don’t need to rush. don’t allow society to fixate the narrative of having all your shit together at a certain age. it isn’t realistic for most. being lost is so much more normal than we think. and i just wish people would be more transparent about it.

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Ahhhhh sorry for the late update (Daniella was swamped) but thank you for anticipating this story! I hope you like this and please reblog if you do! Also also also. Have u seen how handsome Seokjin in in every content he releases…I am unwell

Masterlist, Part VI of __

Jung Hoseok was looking at him with visible disgust in his face. The fucker did not even attempt to hide it as he watched his hyung drank another shot of alcohol.

See, he could have drunk alone but this particular mafia prince decided to disrupt their fairly peaceful dinner when he sauntered in with an expensive bottle of whiskey that could feed a community from the price alone. Their conversation was abruptly cutoff when he placed the bottle on the dining table with a thud before proceeding to pour the content in a glass, and then drinking straight from the bottle like the lunatic and eccentric man he was proving to be.

Suffice to say, he was starting to get concerned at his hyung’s actions. He was a man of manners, priding himself to always be in proper decorum and holding himself at such a high esteem. The way he had been for the past few days were anything but the man he claimed to be. It wasn’t only Hoseok who found this peculiar. Park Jimin was nibbling his lower lips in worry, a habit he had from his childhood and was not able to shake off until now.

The brothers, sans Yoongi who was declared missing and presumed dead, all watched as their oldest hyung ignored them and instead, focused on his drinking while actively glaring at his phone as though the silence was offending him.

“This is familiar,” Taehyung commented with his deadpanned voice and continued eating his steak like nothing was amiss, uncaring of whatever was happening outside his dinner he specifically requested from the chef because Seokjin was not in the mood to prepare their usual dinner. “This was you more than a year ago.”

Jungkook looked at knife Taehyung was using as a pointer with a pout. “I didn’t reach that level of patheticness, thank you very much!”

“He’s right, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon butted in, his hand patted Jungkook’s back.

“Thank you, hyung-“

“He was worst.”

Kim Namjoon enjoyed chaos, it was apparent. He thrived in it, but his cool demeanor and his strictness made it seemed the opposite. The brothers knew better. He wasn’t the straight A student people perceived him to be. Nope, he was much worse with twisted sense of justice and humor.

It can be seen by the way he calmly sipped his wine, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle smirk as Jungkook exploded and Taehyung dodged the chicken thrown his way. Hoseok, ever the pacifist, didn’t know where to focus his attention to: the two youngest bickering on his one side, or the oldest who had just opened yet another bottle of whisky and was drinking straight from the source as though he had a spare liver and was testing the limits of his current one.

On the other hand, Jimin was on the corner with his phone plastered on his ear. “Hello, bear? Where are you? Come pick me up, I’m scared-” He paused as he listened to the response on the other end. “Hello? Bear?”

“Fine! I’ll just join my favorite hyung!” Jungkook pointedly said as he neared Jin who quietly passed him a glass of whisky. “You’re my only brother now.”

Seokjin suddenly lunged at his phone the moment it dinged with an alert, only to suddenly curse at it much to the surprise of the brothers. The force from which he slammed his phone on the table caused the expensive dinnerware to fear for their lives. Jimin timidly picked up the phone he threw across the table and read the message aloud.

“Dear Doctor Kim Seokjin, I hope this email finds you well. We wanted to extend our heartfelt congratulations to you on your well-deserved nomination- what is this? Are you mad because your research is nominated for a nobel prize?”  Jimin turned to his hyung with a frown on his face. He swore his brothers were becoming weirder and weirder as the days passed by. He was the only sane one here, truly.

Of course, it was perfectly sane to threaten any man who came too close to his bear, Jimin reasoned to himself. Or that he purposefully got injured in assignments whenever he felt like her attention was straining away from him.

Seokjin nodded, grumpily resting his chin on his fist. His thick dark brows were pinched together as he cursed at the message. “Stupid awards.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in realization, “Ah, I get it now. You don’t want award, you want noona.”

This again, Hoseok thought. There was no way his hyung was acting this way because of a woman. He knew his hyung. He was disgusted by women and didn’t find them particularly interesting. In fact, he acted like they didn’t exist and Hoseok thought it was because of his mother. He waited for the denial that he was certain would come…until it didn’t.

Seokjin was silent. The man just literally sat there and drank his alcohol as though he had no plans to deny Jungkook’s ridiculous claim, much to Hoseok’s surprise.

“If you want her so bad, why don’t you apologize already?!” Jungkook shouted, shaking Jin’s shoulder. Ever the competitive one, he caught up to the volume of drink Seokjin intake and now it showed through his loud voice and sluggish movements.

“I already did, you idiot!”

“So she didn’t forgive you! Deserved!”

“As a matter of fact, she did!” Seokjin screamed back at the youngest, the vein in his neck protruding and his ears reddening.

“Then what is the problem, hyung?” Namjoon prompted, even he couldn’t make sense of why he was acting the way he did.

“She forgave me!”

“And that’s…the problem?” Hoseok asked with a tilt in his head.

“Yes!”

“Because?” Jimin prompted, sensing that Seokjin was struggling to articulate his feelings.

“I don’t just want her forgiveness-“

“And they said I was the different want who couldn’t differentiate one emotion from the other,” Taehyung said in a deadpanned manner.

“I realized I don’t want forgiveness. I want-“

“-Her?” Jungkook finished.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Seokjin immediately snapped; his voice was defensive but there was a telltale pause, a moment of hesitation that betrayed his true feelings. He continued, his voice rising with each word, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as the others. “I don’t want her forgiveness. I don’t want her to text me again. I don’t crave her attention. I don’t imagine us running towards each other in a field of flowers somewhere in Amsterdam. And I certainly don’t want her to be the mother of my children!” His voice broke with emotion, and with that final outburst, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving the others in stunned silence until the resounding slamming of several doors broke them out of their stupor.

---

You were deeply focused on your phone that you didn’t notice a certain someone standing in your way. You admitted that it was a bad habit of yours to be so utterly unaware of your surroundings nor the danger that it contained when you were thinking of something. It was later in the future when you discovered just how unsafe it was.

You certainly couldn’t have avoided bumping into him, but he could have– and yet, he actively chose not to. The collision could have been avoidable given the sparse amount of space around. It was five in the morning and the hospital lobby was not yet busy. Your pace was not even hurried and he was literally standing there and watching you with his dark eyes enter the hospital lobby. It wasn’t until you collided with his surprisingly broad chest did you notice him. You would’ve stumbled, maybe even fallen, if his hands hadn’t gripped your shoulders, steadying you.

“I’m so sor—” you began, but your words trailed off as your eyes landed on him. You had been expecting a stranger, but instead, you found yourself looking up at Kim Seokjin, someone you had seen not long ago (more than eight hours to be exact).

You blinked up at him, slightly dazed, as he looked down at you with something warm and unexplainable in his eyes. There was a subtle change in him, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t your concern anymore.

Not your monkey, and definitely no longer your circus.

You pulled away from him immediately. However, you noted that there was a hesitation in his touch before he let you go. It was brief and yet, you were sure it was there.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice smooth and calm. The corners of his mouth curled up in a faint smile, making his eyes twinkle with a touch of amusement.

“No, I should have been paying attention. My apologies, Doctor Kim,” you replied formally, drawing an invisible line between the two of you. Maybe if you did that, you could go back to the way things were before everything got so complicated. Right. It was just correct that you started acting professionally when it came to the Chief. He was, after all, your boss and you had embarrassed yourself enough. If you wanted that stellar recommendation, then you’d have to get your act straight.

You smiled at him and that was when he lost his. You bowed and proceeded to walk away from him, your attention back to your phone as though his presence could no longer affect you. There was something telling him that maybe it was true.

How could you just…brush him off like that?

How could you just go on while he was beating himself for pushing you away?

And how could you expect him to just accept what he found to be unacceptable?! He wasn’t Kim Seokjin, a trained Mafia prince, renowned doctor, billionaire, and the worldwide handsome for nothing.

“Ah!” he groaned dramatically clutching his chest where you had bumped into him, his voice echoing through the quiet hospital lobby. He made sure it was loud enough to grab the attention of everyone around him, including the staff. They immediately ran over to check on him, their eyes wide with concern.

You paused, frozen mid-step, feeling the eyes of the entire room shift toward Seokjin. You could sense it—theatrics. This was exactly the kind of scene you had wanted to avoid, but of course, Seokjin was never one to let things go quietly.

"Doctor Kim! Are you alright?" one nurse asked in a panic, while another was already dialing someone—probably a medic. Someone even was screaming emergency as more people gathered around him.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to summon whatever patience you had left. He left you no choice. Had you leave, you would look like a bitch. Turning on your heel, you walked back to where Seokjin stood, still clutching his chest as if he were on the verge of collapse. His eyes met yours, sparkling mischievously despite the serious expression he tried to maintain.

“Really, Seokjin?” you muttered under your breath.

---

“Doctor Y/N, your negligence caused serious physical injury not only to anyone, but to our very own and beloved Doctor Kim!”

You flinched at the HR Department head before sneakily shooting Seokjin a hard glare. Seriously, he sent you to HR just because you bumped into him?! How petty could he be?

The answer to that was too petty.

Even petty couldn’t even begin to describe this!

Seated across from you, with an exaggerated pout, Seokjin held a warm compress to his chest as though nursing a life-threatening injury. Next to him sat the HR Department head, looking utterly serious.

"How are you feeling, Doctor Kim?" the HR head asked him, to which Seokjin gave a pathetic little whimper.

"I'm recovering," he replied, dramatically wincing as if your minor collision had left him grievously wounded.

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to scream. This man is unbelievable! You weren’t just in HR because of a bump. You were in HR because Kim Seokjin wasn’t ready to let you go. Or was it his ego that couldn’t let go? You thought for sure that it was probably the latter.

“Did you even apologize, Doctor?” the HR head asked, her brow raised and eyes filled with judgment.

“Of course I did—” you began to explain, but before you could finish, Seokjin interrupted with a dramatic sigh, leaning further into his chair.

“It feels like she wasn’t even sorry,” he muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt.

Your jaw clenched, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. You shot him another glare, your patience wearing thin. “I literally apologized right after I bumped into you,” you protested, your voice tinged with frustration.

The HR head frowned, turning her disapproving gaze back to you. "Doctor Kim seems to think otherwise," she remarked.

Seokjin's lower lip jutted out in a pout as if your mild collision had ruined his entire week. He clutched the warm compress on his chest more theatrically, glancing at you with puppy-dog eyes.

This was so beyond ridiculous, but you had no choice but to play along for now. "I apologize again, Doctor Kim," you said stiffly, the words forced but necessary.

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t think I can function well this week…”

Of course, the HR head ate up his performance without hesitation. Her face twisted in concern as she asked, “How can we make this better, Doctor Kim?”

Seokjin didn’t miss a beat. He lifted his gaze toward you, looking up through his lashes with the faintest smirk hiding beneath his pout, as though he was plotting something.

You braced yourself.

“Well,” Seokjin began, his tone measured and sweet, “perhaps if Doctor Y/N could make amends...by spending a little more time making sure I’m alright. After all, accidents can have lingering effects,” he added, his voice a mixture of innocence and something else entirely.

Your patience snapped. “I bumped into you. You’re not a fragile vase!”

But he wasn’t going to let this go that easily, and judging by the look on the HR head’s face, you were stuck.

“Enough. Because of the inconvenience you caused to Doctor Kim, you are suspended for a week.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Suspended? For bumping into him? This couldn’t be happening. Your brain raced as you tried to process what had just been said, but all you could focus on was one fact—you couldn’t afford to be suspended. You literally couldn’t afford to lose a week’s salary.

Your crestfallen face almost made Seokjin stopped this act, but he couldn’t lose you. At least, not yet, he thought. Not until he figured out why his heart was fucking hurting when you weren’t around. Or why he was up all night because the thought of you leaving his life made him tossed and turned all night. Or why he was acting like a devious, Slytherin brat (something Jimin would surely was) just to keep you beside him.

“Or she could just assist me the entire month it’ll take me to recover-”

“Whole month?!” you repeated, dumbfounded at what your ex-crush was saying.

Seokjin’s eyes blinked innocently, as though he wasn’t pulling the strings of this ridiculous charade. “What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if he didn’t understand the problem. “This way, you’ll get paid. Plus overtime. Plus premiums. Plus dinner with me everyday. What more can you ask?”

You stared at him, your jaw hanging open as you tried to process the audacity of his proposal. The way he smirked, leaning back slightly with a look of self-satisfied victory, only served to increase your frustration. This was outrageous, but somehow, you knew he was serious.

“Are you kidding me?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t just—”

“Actually, I can,” Seokjin interrupted smoothly. “And I will. Unless you want to risk a suspension that you clearly can’t afford. It’s your choice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Seokjin had you cornered. He was offering a solution that, while absurd and humiliating, was far better than the alternative. And the way he leaned in, as if he was sharing a secret, made it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well?” he prompted, still wearing that smug grin.

Orbiting: pt.1°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]

-

“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.

"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.

Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.

Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.

With his other hand rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.

"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.

But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"

"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."

"Can I watch?"

"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.

"Again?"

"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."

"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."

Jungkook hums, "Him, too."

"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"

Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."

You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.

"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.

"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."

Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.

Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.

-

>> Page 2

desiring something I can neither recognize nor define

You don't need anyone's approval for the stories you write and the art you create. But it's also absolutely valid to want some approval from your audience. Kudos and likes don't determine your creation's worth. But it just feels amazing to receive them.

please please pay attention to what is happening to women in south korea. it was revealed that men had chat rooms where they share photos of women in their family while they groping them and were sexually harassing them and feminists in south korea on twt are asking to spread the word about the crimes done against the women in the country since the media in korea won’t report on it and a lot of international media isn’t covering these issues that have been coming up

A Daydream Away

[idol!yoongi x music producer!reader] [2k+ light angst?, not proofread and a self-indulgent fic, but who wouldn't want to keep Yoongi safe from the sharp edges of this world.]

Growing up, you had kept a box where you kept all of the trinkets you loved and swore to keep safe away from your best friend's, Yoongi, muddy hands, even if it cost you your life. A bit dramatic, yes, but you're just a ten-year-old. At 23, you still kept the box filled to the brim with trinkets. However, you no longer wanted to keep Yoongi away from your precious box. Rather, you wanted to keep him in it, which is ridiculous since even with all the stored things taken out, he wouldn't fit. Plus, how can a superstar ever fit in the small corners of your world when he's too big and already far away from you? In a nutshell, you fell in love with your good friend Yoongi and promise to keep him safe from the world, even from a distance. Loosely inspired by: A Daydream Away by All Time Low and Sparks by Coldplay. Also, hi, I'm back.

-

"I'm gonna add a bit more compression on the drums." Already making your way to the board, you turn the knob to adjust the sound.

You see Yoongi bob along to the music. "Good call!" Yi Jeong calls out loud enough to crack its way across the loud booming bass. You turn to look at him and smile.

While a praise from your superior makes you feel validated. You can't help but glance at Yoongi on his chair, awaiting for his opinion. Heck, you weren't even expecting him to use words, a nod is all you need to know he approves.

Even as kids, Yoongi was a... boy with few words. He rarely talked and when he did, it felt like an exclusivity from the rest of the world. He had a wide perspective and a smart mouth and talking with him then often left you speechless and mumbling words because you weren't exactly sure of the meaning of the words he used.

You were almost the same—timid. But you were quiet because you were shy and wanted to hide from boys. Yoongi, he was quiet because he didn't feel like wasting his energy talking.

It was a surprise you became friends. And a lifelong at that.

"Yoongi, what do you think?"

You pretend to busy yourself, staring at the sheet music as the two men talked. At your peripheral vision, you see Yoongi nod and hit save on the music draft.

Only then were you able to breathe.

"I think we may beat the deadline, guys. Appreciate all the help," Yoongi praises. He uncaps his bottle of whiskey, pours a shot, and hands it to you. "Seriously, Y/N, thanks for the help. Thought you were losing your touch," he teases.

"Losing touch my ass," you scoff as you snatch the glass from his warm calloused hands. "If someone's losing something it's Yi Jeong-nim. He said we'll miss the deadline, but you just said it, we might actually submit your demo early." You smirk Yi Jeong's way before downing the whiskey.

The comfortable silence eases in as the track ends. You loved moments like this, especially when it was just you and Yoongi in the room. You would share a smile before letting everything sink in. Your snotty friend now a worldwide superstar and you, still on his side, his number one supporter, his trusted producer. You would say you made it. Being able to produce music had been your dream when you were thirteen, Yoongi's, too when he was five and learned how to play the piano.

"You think the fans would like it?" In the thick of the silence came Yoongi's doubt. This wasn't unfamiliar territory. He often doubted himself despite how far he came. You wished you could carry those baggages for him, let you take all the heavy weight the world throws him and for once so he could lift his head up and see just how much his music positively change people for good. It's the least he deserves.

But no. That wasn't how the world treated Yoongi and try all you might to take all the hits before it reaches him, the only thing you could really do was offer assurance and hope he does listen to you—not because you're his friend or workmate, but because even for just a moment, just a sliver, he believes it too.

"You know they will," you replied with a smile, hand outstretched to pat him on the back. Your hands lingered, itching to pull him in for a hug just like you always had when you were sixteen and he often came home defeated after submitting his demo to a recording studio. It was another reason you believe Yoongi deserves what he has now and even more.

Feeling like you waited a second too awkward, you pull your hand away and reach for the bottle instead. This is the new routine for your group when one or the other got a bit too pensive, down the thought with a bitter shot of whiskey. No hugs and no more crying on the kitchen floors.

But your arms yearned for Yoongi. You wanted to wrap him around your arms, twice if possible. Words of affirmation and compliments are ready to roll out of your tongue.

-

"You ready?" Yoongi asks as he locks his seatbelt.

This getaway was his idea. A present, he says, for beating the deadline and gaining back more time to rest.

"I was born ready," you lamely replied with a grin. "I got your favorite records queued on my playlist. Now where are we heading?"

"You'll see," he teases, winking your way.

While on the outside you mastered rolling your eyes as you pretend to be disgusted at him, deeply, you're trying not to fawn at the sight. Yoongi had always been adorable even when he was annoying—it evened things out. Then came puberty and suddenly he shaped up to be the man of your dreams. It didn't help that as you grew together, so did your bond. He became your person and you became his.

But with the bond came barriers. Even with your soul-crushing yearning for him, to be with him, you knew you couldn't cross the line. You knew you would get along, tried and tested by the time, but it's his stature now that makes you step back.

You knew Yoongi. If you, his childhood friend and producer suddenly confesses to him, whether he feels the same way or not, it would put him in a difficult position. You truly love and care for him, which is why you were not about to add yourself to the list of things that keeps him awake at night.

You needed to stop being greedy. This was enough, what you have is enough—an unbreakable friendship. This way, you could always protect and assure him. Keep him safe from himself and the world.

Besides, whenever you thought about dating Yoongi, you laugh at how incredulous it was. You knew Yoongi, but you don't know what you would do if you were dating a superstar.

-

"I can't believe you were able to rent this place. I didn't even know they still rented it out." To say you were amazed was an understatement. When Yoongi said it was a surprise, he really meant it was a surprise. For some reason money, the owner of the cabin you frequented to as kids was open again for booking. Or that's what you initially thought. It was only when Yoongi told you that they still don't did you realize that he was able to do so because of his status.

"Do you think they still have the log at the back with our names etched?" With a child-like wonder, you race Yoongi to the back of the house, both of you giggling like you were nine again.

"Still here," he muses. His lithe fingers tracing the indents of your names, albeit it was covered with moss and almost illegible, you both knew it was your names on the wood. “I remember you taking a bark from this tree and keeping it in that box of yours,” his giggles a clear sign of amusement and a hint of teasing. He always made fun of you for keeping “useless trash”—as he calls it. How bittersweet, you think. If he knew how most of those trinkets you kept are from moments you shared, would he still think the same?

“Well, I’ll have you know that I still have that box and everything in it,” you smugly retort. He can make fun of it all he wants, you were sentimental that way.

“Seriously?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you got rid of those by now. I mean you kept a rabbit’s foot, for fucks sake. Must be one hell of a smell when you open your oh-so-precious box.”

You stand with a huff and he follows. “It’s a stuffed rabbit foot.” You hear him hum in mocking agreement as you both enter the house. “Plus, you gave it to me. For luck.” You smile at the memory. Nevermind that despite holding on to it for years—during your internships, job interviews, and every life-deciding moment, you never felt luck was on your side. But Yoongi was. For every mishap at your internship, he comforted you; he recommended you as a freelancer to where he was and even your job now, it was Yoongi’s doing. At some point, you thought holding on to that rabbit foot meant holding on to him. As if keeping the stuffed foot in your pocket guarantees that Yoongi stays beside you. But when you realized how selfish and greedy you were becoming—wanting more of him, you returned the toy to your box. Yet, Yoongi stayed and it was a relief, but at the same time it scared you.

Even until now.

“You’re making dinner, right?”

“Always,” his reply coming instantaneously and so does his quip. “You might burn the kitchen down.”

-

You think you've never seen him this happy in a long time.

Head thrown back as he laughs at your embarrassing encounters, the sound of his hearty giggles reverberates around the room. It's worth it to see him light up again, even at your own expense. If he gets to keep that light, carefree aura on him, you would willingly stand at the center stage and do silly things for his amusement.

He deserves all the happiness and love in the world, you believe so.

“Remember that American producer we worked with?” Yoongi refills your cup with whiskey as you hum in agreement and a sudden wave of remembrance washes over you.

“He was a real asshole, throwing you under the bus like that,” you speak with bitterness and contempt of the man. “But I’m glad management saw through him and got what he deserved.”

“Y/N, I know what you did. And I never got to thank you because I was so embarrassed, but…” Yoongi trails off. His eyes suddenly too shy to meet yours. But Yoongi knew.

He knew what you did for him—almost risking your own job to out a coworker, going out on a limb, all because of that one time he pointed his fingers at Yoongi when they couldn’t meet the deadline for a song, making him feel incompetent and overcompensate, up to the point that he still overworked himself despite being sick and to the brink of hospitalization.

“Oh,” You down the shot, buying yourself time to think of a reply. “I did what anyone would have done knowing the situation.” You reach for the bottle to pour yourself more drink when Yoongi snatches it out of your reach.

“No. Not anyone would have done that. People knew but they kept quiet, but you—like always, you stuck by me. Even risking your career.”

Of course, I did. I love you. You come first before everything else. You deserve more than I can give and this was the least I could do. I would walk barefoot on burning coals and swim across an ocean if it meant giving you what you deserve.

“Of course, I did.” You smirk—your loop-sided smile an attempt to ease the sudden discomfort you feel because Yoongi is looking at you.

Yoongi looks at you with glassy eyes, the one that makes him irresistible at the same time compels you to bubble-wrap him to keep him away from the sharp edges of this world. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars in the night sky that he very much loves. You know that look because you caught yourself having that same expression when he’s singing.

But you have to keep boundaries. You already feel guilty for thinking about what-ifs and if-onlys.

What if we were just two regular people? Both nobodies, would it be easier to give in to these feelings?

What if we risked everything? Would the reward be as great as this persistent temptation?

If only you weren't so far away.

If only you were mine before the world took claim of you.

What if I was yours and you were mine?

Unsaid words hoping to be conveyed through a look. You can’t take it. You could be wrong. That look could mean differently and so you divert.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Your tone and indignation on the word friends not lost to both of you. You almost grimace at how obvious that was.

Yoongi stares at you, blinks and gulps. “Yep, that’s what friends are for.”

He refills your glasses and raises his own. “To being good friends until the end.”

You haven’t drank the whiskey yet, but your throat burns as you swallow the words. “To being good friends.”

A Daydream Away

[idol!yoongi x music producer!reader] [2k+ light angst?, not proofread and a self-indulgent fic, but who wouldn't want to keep Yoongi safe from the sharp edges of this world.]

Growing up, you had kept a box where you kept all of the trinkets you loved and swore to keep safe away from your best friend's, Yoongi, muddy hands, even if it cost you your life. A bit dramatic, yes, but you're just a ten-year-old. At 23, you still kept the box filled to the brim with trinkets. However, you no longer wanted to keep Yoongi away from your precious box. Rather, you wanted to keep him in it, which is ridiculous since even with all the stored things taken out, he wouldn't fit. Plus, how can a superstar ever fit in the small corners of your world when he's too big and already far away from you? In a nutshell, you fell in love with your good friend Yoongi and promise to keep him safe from the world, even from a distance. Loosely inspired by: A Daydream Away by All Time Low and Sparks by Coldplay. Also, hi, I'm back.

-

"I'm gonna add a bit more compression on the drums." Already making your way to the board, you turn the knob to adjust the sound.

You see Yoongi bob along to the music. "Good call!" Yi Jeong calls out loud enough to crack its way across the loud booming bass. You turn to look at him and smile.

While a praise from your superior makes you feel validated. You can't help but glance at Yoongi on his chair, awaiting for his opinion. Heck, you weren't even expecting him to use words, a nod is all you need to know he approves.

Even as kids, Yoongi was a... boy with few words. He rarely talked and when he did, it felt like an exclusivity from the rest of the world. He had a wide perspective and a smart mouth and talking with him then often left you speechless and mumbling words because you weren't exactly sure of the meaning of the words he used.

You were almost the same—timid. But you were quiet because you were shy and wanted to hide from boys. Yoongi, he was quiet because he didn't feel like wasting his energy talking.

It was a surprise you became friends. And a lifelong at that.

"Yoongi, what do you think?"

You pretend to busy yourself, staring at the sheet music as the two men talked. At your peripheral vision, you see Yoongi nod and hit save on the music draft.

Only then were you able to breathe.

"I think we may beat the deadline, guys. Appreciate all the help," Yoongi praises. He uncaps his bottle of whiskey, pours a shot, and hands it to you. "Seriously, Y/N, thanks for the help. Thought you were losing your touch," he teases.

"Losing touch my ass," you scoff as you snatch the glass from his warm calloused hands. "If someone's losing something it's Yi Jeong-nim. He said we'll miss the deadline, but you just said it, we might actually submit your demo early." You smirk Yi Jeong's way before downing the whiskey.

The comfortable silence eases in as the track ends. You loved moments like this, especially when it was just you and Yoongi in the room. You would share a smile before letting everything sink in. Your snotty friend now a worldwide superstar and you, still on his side, his number one supporter, his trusted producer. You would say you made it. Being able to produce music had been your dream when you were thirteen, Yoongi's, too when he was five and learned how to play the piano.

"You think the fans would like it?" In the thick of the silence came Yoongi's doubt. This wasn't unfamiliar territory. He often doubted himself despite how far he came. You wished you could carry those baggages for him, let you take all the heavy weight the world throws him and for once so he could lift his head up and see just how much his music positively change people for good. It's the least he deserves.

But no. That wasn't how the world treated Yoongi and try all you might to take all the hits before it reaches him, the only thing you could really do was offer assurance and hope he does listen to you—not because you're his friend or workmate, but because even for just a moment, just a sliver, he believes it too.

"You know they will," you replied with a smile, hand outstretched to pat him on the back. Your hands lingered, itching to pull him in for a hug just like you always had when you were sixteen and he often came home defeated after submitting his demo to a recording studio. It was another reason you believe Yoongi deserves what he has now and even more.

Feeling like you waited a second too awkward, you pull your hand away and reach for the bottle instead. This is the new routine for your group when one or the other got a bit too pensive, down the thought with a bitter shot of whiskey. No hugs and no more crying on the kitchen floors.

But your arms yearned for Yoongi. You wanted to wrap him around your arms, twice if possible. Words of affirmation and compliments are ready to roll out of your tongue.

-

"You ready?" Yoongi asks as he locks his seatbelt.

This getaway was his idea. A present, he says, for beating the deadline and gaining back more time to rest.

"I was born ready," you lamely replied with a grin. "I got your favorite records queued on my playlist. Now where are we heading?"

"You'll see," he teases, winking your way.

While on the outside you mastered rolling your eyes as you pretend to be disgusted at him, deeply, you're trying not to fawn at the sight. Yoongi had always been adorable even when he was annoying—it evened things out. Then came puberty and suddenly he shaped up to be the man of your dreams. It didn't help that as you grew together, so did your bond. He became your person and you became his.

But with the bond came barriers. Even with your soul-crushing yearning for him, to be with him, you knew you couldn't cross the line. You knew you would get along, tried and tested by the time, but it's his stature now that makes you step back.

You knew Yoongi. If you, his childhood friend and producer suddenly confesses to him, whether he feels the same way or not, it would put him in a difficult position. You truly love and care for him, which is why you were not about to add yourself to the list of things that keeps him awake at night.

You needed to stop being greedy. This was enough, what you have is enough—an unbreakable friendship. This way, you could always protect and assure him. Keep him safe from himself and the world.

Besides, whenever you thought about dating Yoongi, you laugh at how incredulous it was. You knew Yoongi, but you don't know what you would do if you were dating a superstar.

-

"I can't believe you were able to rent this place. I didn't even know they still rented it out." To say you were amazed was an understatement. When Yoongi said it was a surprise, he really meant it was a surprise. For some reason money, the owner of the cabin you frequented to as kids was open again for booking. Or that's what you initially thought. It was only when Yoongi told you that they still don't did you realize that he was able to do so because of his status.

"Do you think they still have the log at the back with our names etched?" With a child-like wonder, you race Yoongi to the back of the house, both of you giggling like you were nine again.

"Still here," he muses. His lithe fingers tracing the indents of your names, albeit it was covered with moss and almost illegible, you both knew it was your names on the wood. “I remember you taking a bark from this tree and keeping it in that box of yours,” his giggles a clear sign of amusement and a hint of teasing. He always made fun of you for keeping “useless trash”—as he calls it. How bittersweet, you think. If he knew how most of those trinkets you kept are from moments you shared, would he still think the same?

“Well, I’ll have you know that I still have that box and everything in it,” you smugly retort. He can make fun of it all he wants, you were sentimental that way.

“Seriously?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you got rid of those by now. I mean you kept a rabbit’s foot, for fucks sake. Must be one hell of a smell when you open your oh-so-precious box.”

You stand with a huff and he follows. “It’s a stuffed rabbit foot.” You hear him hum in mocking agreement as you both enter the house. “Plus, you gave it to me. For luck.” You smile at the memory. Nevermind that despite holding on to it for years—during your internships, job interviews, and every life-deciding moment, you never felt luck was on your side. But Yoongi was. For every mishap at your internship, he comforted you; he recommended you as a freelancer to where he was and even your job now, it was Yoongi’s doing. At some point, you thought holding on to that rabbit foot meant holding on to him. As if keeping the stuffed foot in your pocket guarantees that Yoongi stays beside you. But when you realized how selfish and greedy you were becoming—wanting more of him, you returned the toy to your box. Yet, Yoongi stayed and it was a relief, but at the same time it scared you.

Even until now.

“You’re making dinner, right?”

“Always,” his reply coming instantaneously and so does his quip. “You might burn the kitchen down.”

-

You think you've never seen him this happy in a long time.

Head thrown back as he laughs at your embarrassing encounters, the sound of his hearty giggles reverberates around the room. It's worth it to see him light up again, even at your own expense. If he gets to keep that light, carefree aura on him, you would willingly stand at the center stage and do silly things for his amusement.

He deserves all the happiness and love in the world, you believe so.

“Remember that American producer we worked with?” Yoongi refills your cup with whiskey as you hum in agreement and a sudden wave of remembrance washes over you.

“He was a real asshole, throwing you under the bus like that,” you speak with bitterness and contempt of the man. “But I’m glad management saw through him and got what he deserved.”

“Y/N, I know what you did. And I never got to thank you because I was so embarrassed, but…” Yoongi trails off. His eyes suddenly too shy to meet yours. But Yoongi knew.

He knew what you did for him—almost risking your own job to out a coworker, going out on a limb, all because of that one time he pointed his fingers at Yoongi when they couldn’t meet the deadline for a song, making him feel incompetent and overcompensate, up to the point that he still overworked himself despite being sick and to the brink of hospitalization.

“Oh,” You down the shot, buying yourself time to think of a reply. “I did what anyone would have done knowing the situation.” You reach for the bottle to pour yourself more drink when Yoongi snatches it out of your reach.

“No. Not anyone would have done that. People knew but they kept quiet, but you—like always, you stuck by me. Even risking your career.”

Of course, I did. I love you. You come first before everything else. You deserve more than I can give and this was the least I could do. I would walk barefoot on burning coals and swim across an ocean if it meant giving you what you deserve.

“Of course, I did.” You smirk—your loop-sided smile an attempt to ease the sudden discomfort you feel because Yoongi is looking at you.

Yoongi looks at you with glassy eyes, the one that makes him irresistible at the same time compels you to bubble-wrap him to keep him away from the sharp edges of this world. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars in the night sky that he very much loves. You know that look because you caught yourself having that same expression when he’s singing.

But you have to keep boundaries. You already feel guilty for thinking about what-ifs and if-onlys.

What if we were just two regular people? Both nobodies, would it be easier to give in to these feelings?

What if we risked everything? Would the reward be as great as this persistent temptation?

If only you weren't so far away.

If only you were mine before the world took claim of you.

What if I was yours and you were mine?

Unsaid words hoping to be conveyed through a look. You can’t take it. You could be wrong. That look could mean differently and so you divert.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Your tone and indignation on the word friends not lost to both of you. You almost grimace at how obvious that was.

Yoongi stares at you, blinks and gulps. “Yep, that’s what friends are for.”

He refills your glasses and raises his own. “To being good friends until the end.”

You haven’t drank the whiskey yet, but your throat burns as you swallow the words. “To being good friends.”

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A Daydream Away - [idol!yoongi x music producer!reader]

A Daydream Away

[idol!yoongi x music producer!reader] [2k+ light angst?, not proofread and a self-indulgent fic, but who wouldn't want to keep Yoongi safe from the sharp edges of this world.]

Growing up, you had kept a box where you kept all of the trinkets you loved and swore to keep safe away from your best friend's, Yoongi, muddy hands, even if it cost you your life. A bit dramatic, yes, but you're just a ten-year-old. At 23, you still kept the box filled to the brim with trinkets. However, you no longer wanted to keep Yoongi away from your precious box. Rather, you wanted to keep him in it, which is ridiculous since even with all the stored things taken out, he wouldn't fit. Plus, how can a superstar ever fit in the small corners of your world when he's too big and already far away from you? In a nutshell, you fell in love with your good friend Yoongi and promise to keep him safe from the world, even from a distance. Loosely inspired by: A Daydream Away by All Time Low and Sparks by Coldplay. Also, hi, I'm back.

-

"I'm gonna add a bit more compression on the drums." Already making your way to the board, you turn the knob to adjust the sound.

You see Yoongi bob along to the music. "Good call!" Yi Jeong calls out loud enough to crack its way across the loud booming bass. You turn to look at him and smile.

While a praise from your superior makes you feel validated. You can't help but glance at Yoongi on his chair, awaiting for his opinion. Heck, you weren't even expecting him to use words, a nod is all you need to know he approves.

Even as kids, Yoongi was a... boy with few words. He rarely talked and when he did, it felt like an exclusivity from the rest of the world. He had a wide perspective and a smart mouth and talking with him then often left you speechless and mumbling words because you weren't exactly sure of the meaning of the words he used.

You were almost the same—timid. But you were quiet because you were shy and wanted to hide from boys. Yoongi, he was quiet because he didn't feel like wasting his energy talking.

It was a surprise you became friends. And a lifelong at that.

"Yoongi, what do you think?"

You pretend to busy yourself, staring at the sheet music as the two men talked. At your peripheral vision, you see Yoongi nod and hit save on the music draft.

Only then were you able to breathe.

"I think we may beat the deadline, guys. Appreciate all the help," Yoongi praises. He uncaps his bottle of whiskey, pours a shot, and hands it to you. "Seriously, Y/N, thanks for the help. Thought you were losing your touch," he teases.

"Losing touch my ass," you scoff as you snatch the glass from his warm calloused hands. "If someone's losing something it's Yi Jeong-nim. He said we'll miss the deadline, but you just said it, we might actually submit your demo early." You smirk Yi Jeong's way before downing the whiskey.

The comfortable silence eases in as the track ends. You loved moments like this, especially when it was just you and Yoongi in the room. You would share a smile before letting everything sink in. Your snotty friend now a worldwide superstar and you, still on his side, his number one supporter, his trusted producer. You would say you made it. Being able to produce music had been your dream when you were thirteen, Yoongi's, too when he was five and learned how to play the piano.

"You think the fans would like it?" In the thick of the silence came Yoongi's doubt. This wasn't unfamiliar territory. He often doubted himself despite how far he came. You wished you could carry those baggages for him, let you take all the heavy weight the world throws him and for once so he could lift his head up and see just how much his music positively change people for good. It's the least he deserves.

But no. That wasn't how the world treated Yoongi and try all you might to take all the hits before it reaches him, the only thing you could really do was offer assurance and hope he does listen to you—not because you're his friend or workmate, but because even for just a moment, just a sliver, he believes it too.

"You know they will," you replied with a smile, hand outstretched to pat him on the back. Your hands lingered, itching to pull him in for a hug just like you always had when you were sixteen and he often came home defeated after submitting his demo to a recording studio. It was another reason you believe Yoongi deserves what he has now and even more.

Feeling like you waited a second too awkward, you pull your hand away and reach for the bottle instead. This is the new routine for your group when one or the other got a bit too pensive, down the thought with a bitter shot of whiskey. No hugs and no more crying on the kitchen floors.

But your arms yearned for Yoongi. You wanted to wrap him around your arms, twice if possible. Words of affirmation and compliments are ready to roll out of your tongue.

-

"You ready?" Yoongi asks as he locks his seatbelt.

This getaway was his idea. A present, he says, for beating the deadline and gaining back more time to rest.

"I was born ready," you lamely replied with a grin. "I got your favorite records queued on my playlist. Now where are we heading?"

"You'll see," he teases, winking your way.

While on the outside you mastered rolling your eyes as you pretend to be disgusted at him, deeply, you're trying not to fawn at the sight. Yoongi had always been adorable even when he was annoying—it evened things out. Then came puberty and suddenly he shaped up to be the man of your dreams. It didn't help that as you grew together, so did your bond. He became your person and you became his.

But with the bond came barriers. Even with your soul-crushing yearning for him, to be with him, you knew you couldn't cross the line. You knew you would get along, tried and tested by the time, but it's his stature now that makes you step back.

You knew Yoongi. If you, his childhood friend and producer suddenly confesses to him, whether he feels the same way or not, it would put him in a difficult position. You truly love and care for him, which is why you were not about to add yourself to the list of things that keeps him awake at night.

You needed to stop being greedy. This was enough, what you have is enough—an unbreakable friendship. This way, you could always protect and assure him. Keep him safe from himself and the world.

Besides, whenever you thought about dating Yoongi, you laugh at how incredulous it was. You knew Yoongi, but you don't know what you would do if you were dating a superstar.

-

"I can't believe you were able to rent this place. I didn't even know they still rented it out." To say you were amazed was an understatement. When Yoongi said it was a surprise, he really meant it was a surprise. For some reason money, the owner of the cabin you frequented to as kids was open again for booking. Or that's what you initially thought. It was only when Yoongi told you that they still don't did you realize that he was able to do so because of his status.

"Do you think they still have the log at the back with our names etched?" With a child-like wonder, you race Yoongi to the back of the house, both of you giggling like you were nine again.

"Still here," he muses. His lithe fingers tracing the indents of your names, albeit it was covered with moss and almost illegible, you both knew it was your names on the wood. “I remember you taking a bark from this tree and keeping it in that box of yours,” his giggles a clear sign of amusement and a hint of teasing. He always made fun of you for keeping “useless trash”—as he calls it. How bittersweet, you think. If he knew how most of those trinkets you kept are from moments you shared, would he still think the same?

“Well, I’ll have you know that I still have that box and everything in it,” you smugly retort. He can make fun of it all he wants, you were sentimental that way.

“Seriously?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you got rid of those by now. I mean you kept a rabbit’s foot, for fucks sake. Must be one hell of a smell when you open your oh-so-precious box.”

You stand with a huff and he follows. “It’s a stuffed rabbit foot.” You hear him hum in mocking agreement as you both enter the house. “Plus, you gave it to me. For luck.” You smile at the memory. Nevermind that despite holding on to it for years—during your internships, job interviews, and every life-deciding moment, you never felt luck was on your side. But Yoongi was. For every mishap at your internship, he comforted you; he recommended you as a freelancer to where he was and even your job now, it was Yoongi’s doing. At some point, you thought holding on to that rabbit foot meant holding on to him. As if keeping the stuffed foot in your pocket guarantees that Yoongi stays beside you. But when you realized how selfish and greedy you were becoming—wanting more of him, you returned the toy to your box. Yet, Yoongi stayed and it was a relief, but at the same time it scared you.

Even until now.

“You’re making dinner, right?”

“Always,” his reply coming instantaneously and so does his quip. “You might burn the kitchen down.”

-

You think you've never seen him this happy in a long time.

Head thrown back as he laughs at your embarrassing encounters, the sound of his hearty giggles reverberates around the room. It's worth it to see him light up again, even at your own expense. If he gets to keep that light, carefree aura on him, you would willingly stand at the center stage and do silly things for his amusement.

He deserves all the happiness and love in the world, you believe so.

“Remember that American producer we worked with?” Yoongi refills your cup with whiskey as you hum in agreement and a sudden wave of remembrance washes over you.

“He was a real asshole, throwing you under the bus like that,” you speak with bitterness and contempt of the man. “But I’m glad management saw through him and got what he deserved.”

“Y/N, I know what you did. And I never got to thank you because I was so embarrassed, but…” Yoongi trails off. His eyes suddenly too shy to meet yours. But Yoongi knew.

He knew what you did for him—almost risking your own job to out a coworker, going out on a limb, all because of that one time he pointed his fingers at Yoongi when they couldn’t meet the deadline for a song, making him feel incompetent and overcompensate, up to the point that he still overworked himself despite being sick and to the brink of hospitalization.

“Oh,” You down the shot, buying yourself time to think of a reply. “I did what anyone would have done knowing the situation.” You reach for the bottle to pour yourself more drink when Yoongi snatches it out of your reach.

“No. Not anyone would have done that. People knew but they kept quiet, but you—like always, you stuck by me. Even risking your career.”

Of course, I did. I love you. You come first before everything else. You deserve more than I can give and this was the least I could do. I would walk barefoot on burning coals and swim across an ocean if it meant giving you what you deserve.

“Of course, I did.” You smirk—your loop-sided smile an attempt to ease the sudden discomfort you feel because Yoongi is looking at you.

Yoongi looks at you with glassy eyes, the one that makes him irresistible at the same time compels you to bubble-wrap him to keep him away from the sharp edges of this world. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars in the night sky that he very much loves. You know that look because you caught yourself having that same expression when he’s singing.

But you have to keep boundaries. You already feel guilty for thinking about what-ifs and if-onlys.

What if we were just two regular people? Both nobodies, would it be easier to give in to these feelings?

What if we risked everything? Would the reward be as great as this persistent temptation?

If only you weren't so far away.

If only you were mine before the world took claim of you.

What if I was yours and you were mine?

Unsaid words hoping to be conveyed through a look. You can’t take it. You could be wrong. That look could mean differently and so you divert.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Your tone and indignation on the word friends not lost to both of you. You almost grimace at how obvious that was.

Yoongi stares at you, blinks and gulps. “Yep, that’s what friends are for.”

He refills your glasses and raises his own. “To being good friends until the end.”

You haven’t drank the whiskey yet, but your throat burns as you swallow the words. “To being good friends.”

PARK JIMIN??? JEON JUNGKOOK???? HELLO?????????

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JIMIN ↳ are you sure?! | episode 3