#3tandrabbles

also the fact that i was so active on tumblr earlier, but left my phone in my room to go shower and brush my teeth only to come back and find a domestic 3tan drabble ☹️☹️ my luck is so crappy bc why am i always late lmao?? but they’re so damn cute wtf 🥲

ABBY😭😭 thank you, love. I think it’s a normal thing in writing, though? Like if you spend so much time on something and read it over a lot, you already know what happens. So it may “seem boring” when really you’re just fatigued? Or something like that.

title: more than just the game series: three tangerines genre/rating: pg ; fluff warnings: alcohol consumption, orange yoongi lol word count: 643

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In all fairness, you know a bit about basketball.

It was inevitable. Your brother and his friends played so often that you started to know how things went, even if you didn't pay too much attention. Both to the game and to the people playing. 

Right. 

You definitely, positively didn’t pay much attention to the man beside you, hunched over and watching the game as if he’s literally courtside.

"Mm, see that? That's why you don't help off your man there,” Yoongi advises as he straightens and stretches. “Easy pass for an open shot once he cuts."

However much you know about basketball, hearing him talk about it is much more interesting. And entertaining. He lights up while explaining things, so how can you not milk this moment as much as possible?

Nodding along, you offer your take, "I thought that was a good play."

"It was. Just bad defense, too."

You don't know how you both ended up watching for so long. Your plates have been cleared for awhile already, abandoned on his coffee table next to some bottles of soju and tiny glasses. 

Honestly, you don’t know how much alcohol is swimming in your system, either. All you remember is betting shots on things regarding the game.

Until it actually started getting good.

Even you were becoming invested seeing one team take the lead right after the other. Somehow, the tenseness of the atmosphere could be felt though the screen, and your eyes couldn’t help but drift to Yoongi’s growing interest.

A sharp burst of cheers erupts when someone scores with seconds left, and he adds to the fray with only a huff. Tsking, he shakes his head while pouring a cup,

"They fucked up."

"How?"

"Didn’t get that last rebound. If they did, they could've at least called timeout to figure shit out."

"Damn. And they got scored on."

"Uh huh.” Sipping, he slings an arm over the back of the sofa, continuing as if he isn’t making you jelly on the inside. “Rebounds save games."

Too full of soju and playfulness, you joke, "Do they save yours?"

As Yoongi instantly catches on, he lifts a brow in tandem with a corner of his mouth, and you can’t bring yourself to look at his eyes when he responds with a smooth, 

“What do you think?” 

“I...” Fuck, his lips look damn good right now. Looking away, you scoff, “Never mind.”

He laughs before goading, “Giving up already?”  

“Yes.”

“Now I wanna know.”

Pouting, you turn back to him. “Like you have any game to save anyway.”  

Yoongi’s immediate amusement drives a stake of embarrassment into your chest. 

Why did you say that? He’s much better at this game than you. Fuck! 

Cup up to his mouth, he challenges, “Is that right?”

“Um... Uh huh.”

Unfazed, he flicks his eyes while goading, “Door’s over there then, doll.” 

“Wait, I—”

“And I’ll need my shirt back.” 

“Hey!” 

Cheers louder than before snag both of your attentions, and Yoongi jumps a bit when he sees that the other team actually managed to win. “Oh, shit!” 

“How did they—”

“I dunno! Hold up, where’s the remote?” 

You laugh at his sudden turn of mood, amazed at how he can go from relaxed to enthralled in seconds. “Right next to you, old man.”

“I’m running this back.”

“Do it.” 

As Yoongi rewinds the live play, your grin hurts your cheeks as you observe. 

What the heck could he possibly be so excited about? You didn’t think he was a fan of either team, and the game’s already over. It’s so intriguing that you ask him exactly that. 

And he turns with creased eyes as the announcers start talking over cheers. Shrugging, he admits, 

“I like the unexpected.” 

Matching his grin, you simply laugh in amusement, wondering if he’s talking about more than just the game. 

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Maybe they found the picture recently along with an angry diary entry.

“What the hell? This is y’all, holy crap.”

Jimin takes an old picture from your brother as you sip from your water bottle, summer heat doing a wonderful job in convincing your top to cling to your arms.

You’re just glad—albeit maybe a tad upset—that Yoongi didn’t join Jimin and your brother in ditching shirts. When they came over to help clean out your garage, you were already losing it at the way his bangs clung to his forehead at the front door.

When Jimin lets out a hearty laugh, Yoongi just turns from his spot in the corner, hands stilling on a random box. But he doesn’t seem interested until his friend turns to you—you? Why?

“No wonder you hate us!” He shouts from across the garage, and you shoot a suddenly intrigued man a look before aiming confusion at your accuser.

“Huh?”

Jimin has the picture flipped over, reading some scribbles on the back through a grin, “Thieves—adorably spelled, by the way—don’t let in store. Will steal.”

Incredibly embarrassed at the laugh and grin that follow, you decide to fight back, “Hey! You took stuff whenever I went to find more things!”

“Never leave your shit alone,” Yoongi tuts, though his face holds more amusement than anything else. “Had to teach you early.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh as Jimin hums in agreement with his friend. “Y’all were just mean.”

“They were pieces of shit,” your brother cuts in, setting the bin of albums down before wiping his hands. “Let’s take a break. I’m hungry.”

And all of you put down your stuff and head inside, the prospect of food too good to pass up.

Right before you get to the door, you notice that Yoongi leans over to peek inside the box your brother put down, and you watch as he turns around. “What?”

The smile he aims your way sets up butterflies in your stomach, and he shakes his sweaty head before grinning,

“Maybe I’ll steal that box, too.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

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drabble: what the…? series: 3tan | chapter: dalo rating/genre: pg ; 3tan au pov: dom wc: 661

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Taehyung? What is he doing here?