#suga fics

Yoongi doesn't know what to feel right now.

He should be happy, because oh my God this is happening. But he should also be anxious, because what is he supposed to do now that this is happening? And on top of it, he should be scared, because is this even supposed to be happening?

The way you saved his number as "my love" is a fact that has been spiraling in his head for hours now, since he discovered it. And it is just a silly little detail about your every day life. He wasn't even supposed to know about that. But he does. And now he can't stop thinking about that.

It's also about how you told Tzuyu (who definitely shouldn't have told Suga) you couldn't go out with her since you were having a date with your boyfriend. The boyfriend being Yoongi. And the date being the place you guys should go to in a few hours.

And there's nothing wrong with that, right? Except for the fact that you called him your boyfriend when he is... not your boyfriend. He would love to be, of course! But he is not. Unless he got lost in translation, which he highly doubts, considering how he is always replaying everything you say and do in his mind.

But you called him that. And, in some type of way, you called him your love as well. Never to his face, but you did. And Yoongi has no idea on how much of that he should consider. It could be just a not very funny joke. But you wouldn't joke about it, would you? So maybe he should just behave like nothing happened. Yeah, that's right. He shouldn't even know about those things at all.

So for the rest of the day, he pretends that he didn't discover anything. Everything is exactly as it was. But he can't bring himself to actually forget those. "My boyfriend". "My love". Those sentences were quite harsh to forget about.

You guys are on a date, so why can't you be actually dating? Do you even know that this is a romantic date? Does Yoongi know that? When did the line between friends who are secretly in love and actual lovers blurry itself so hard? It's getting ridiculous at this point. So many questions and very few answers.

He watches as you hold the huge popcorn bucket, trying your best not to drop anything. You were just waiting in line with him, waiting for the movie session to start, but you were so happy. Even when just standing still, your eyes were undeniably full of joy.

Yoongi also didn't miss how you never failed at being close to him. Not on a way to overwhelm him, just to be there. Like you just wanted his company, even if you weren't touching each other. Even if you were in complete silence, even if you didn't even look at each other just yet. You were both there. And that was all that mattered.

Useless to say that he paid absolutely no attention to the movie on the silver screen. He had no idea of who was staring in it, or what it was about. He barely looked at it to be honest. He was looking at you all the time. My boyfriend. My love. You surely acted like there was truth to those words.

For the first time in the past hour or so he looked away from you. He focused his gaze on the movie playing instead, but only because he wanted to reach to hold your hand, and he wouldn't be able to do it if he looked at you while doing so. That was proven particularly correct as he felt you turning your head just to look at him the moment you felt his touch.

He should've looked though. Maybe then he would see how your eyes proved that Yoongi was indeed your love. Maybe just not your boyfriend. Yet. That was soon to be solved, as he was already planning on how to confess the moment the two of you got out of the movie theater.

You were, after all, calling him your boyfriend for a while now. However, now it was time for him to call you his partner. Oh, and he so would do it. It felt right to do so.

And if it feels right, it must be right.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: shut me up

Reminder that this is all fiction! This does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist: @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

For some reason unknown to you, Yoongi insisted on staying over at you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment despite living only a few more minutes down the road. And although you tried sending signals to Jungkook that you don’t want Yoongi in your apartment, your tender-hearted boyfriend doesn’t have the heart to deny the elder's request.

All things considered, the closeness isn’t so bad. The combination of the smell of Jungkook’s aftershave and his long fingers drawing absentminded shapes on your thighs has you sighing contently into his shoulder. Coupled with the large amount of boozy eggnog you consumed at Hoseok’s new year's party, you’re positive you’re slipping towards the best sleep of your life; feeling safe, warm, and secure in his arms.

That is until Jungkook’s hand creeps closer towards the hem of your shorts; the baggy ones you stole from his wardrobe that provides ample space for his large hand to slip into the pant leg. You look up to see if it's a mistake, your heart thrumming a bit quicker in hopes that it isn't. Jungkook stares straight ahead, barely glancing down at you, and you scoot closer to place a small kiss on his neck.

But then he does it again.

This time, when your eyes slide over to his face, Jungkook can't hide the small, mischievous smile. You're about to say something when he silences you with a glance. He juts his chin to the TV, a silent prompt for you to keep your eyes straight ahead.

Even though you're prepared for the next contact, it's hard to keep your moans to yourself when he drags his knuckle over your clothed slit. His finger goes up and down; from your clit to your entrance, and back again. Your body responds to his touch; your spine locking in place as the world blurs around you.

"Jungkook," you whimper faintly.

You spot the tongue prodding on the side of his cheek as his hand stills, head whipping towards the couch.

You follow his gaze to find that Yoongi's still asleep.

Jungkook adjusts your seating so that your back lies flushed against his chest. He dips his head to nip at the shell of your ear before whispering, “Shhh. We don’t want to wake our guest up. Try to be quiet, yeah?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you nod.

Jungkook lifts the hem of your shirt and pulls the cups of your bra down. He squeezes your tits together as his thumbs circle and roll your hardening nipples. His lips make their way to your neck, just at the base of your hairline, where they attach themselves on the tender skin. Your mind is set aflame at the languid way he paws and fondles your breasts.

Your boyfriend is pretending to be completely oblivious to the torture he’s set. You have to choke back a groan when Jungkook twists your nipples between his forefinger and your thumb, the strike of electricity causing your body to shudder. He repeats the action a few more times, rolling, pinching, tugging, turning you more and more putty in his hands. Jungkook couldn’t care less about the way you squirm. He ignores the way your thighs press together or the way you’re biting back moan after moan as you're left completely at his mercy.

Every few seconds, your eyes trail to the sleeping figure to your right, and when you deem that Yoongi is still spending his time in dreamland, you allow yourself a small mewl of ecstasy.

“Can I make you cum with your tits, babe?” Jungkook whispers into your neck as he licks some of the marks he’s left behind.

“I don’t know… I don’t t-think so?” you respond. Yet when he tugs your nipples with such force that it has your back bending towards his palms, you feel lighting strike your spine, and for the first time that night, you moan loud enough that it causes Jungkook to remove his hand from under your shirt to clamp around your mouth.

After determining that Yoongi is still very much asleep, Jungkook forces his remaining hand underneath the waistband of your shorts and panties, discarding the garments onto the floor.

“What did I fucking say about being too loud, huh? Fucking Christ!” he growls as he thrusts two of his fingers inside until they hit the back of your throat.

Jungkook pinches your clit in punishment, and your back curves at the sharp pain. You can’t moan; can hardly breathe with his thick fingers crowding your mouth. He does it again, much harder than the last before slipping the tip of his pointer finger inside your hole, thrusting shallowly on purpose to miss the sensitive patch of nerves. Your hips try to chase after the lingering sensation, but his muscled forearm holds you in place, and you’re left squirming; helpless as he draws out your suffering.

“If only you listened to me earlier,” he tuts mockingly, giving the shell of your ear another harsh nip.

You whine in disappointment when Jungkook removes his finger from your cunt, but that earns you another harsh pinch, forcing you to swallow the curses that's threatening to bubble up. You're thrashing in his arms, frustrated at the lack of stimuli. You hear the muffled sound of a zipper opening, and Jungkook bucks his hips into your core as he slides his shorts down. Your eyes roll shut when he does it again.

The soft material of his boxers give you ample friction against your nub, and you grind together with his movements, soaking the fabric with your essence.

“That’s it, angel, just like that. Yeah,” Jungkook groans.

He begins to thrust his fingers into your mouth in a rhythm that matches the sway of your hips. The stimulation is driving you crazy, and the fact that Yoongi is right there and could wake up any second fills you with a carnal hunger that only makes you grind harder. Faster.

“Pretty angel. You wish it was my fat cock in your mouth, huh?” He pinches your tongue between his fingers. “Look at you slobbering over my hand… You're such a fucking mess.”

“J-Jungkook…” you whimper through your crowded mouth. “Empty…”

“What’s that, angel? What’s empty? Is it this cunt of yours?” Jungkook cups your core with his large hand, and begins to grind slow circles on your clit with the heel of his palm before tugging his cock out from its confines.

He taps the blunt head of his cock against your core. "Is this what you want?"

Despite having memorized it, you want nothing more than to see Jungkook’s thick length as he slides the head against your puffy lips. You slide your messy cunt over his shaft, and your head rolls back when the tip slips inside. That small burst of euphoria would explode in your brain, but Jungkook has other plans, and he always pulls out before you’re able to plunge him fully inside.

This little game that he’s playing is getting old, but with your mouth still full, you can’t make any requests aside from the short frustrated grunts of air as Jungkook, yet again, slips out from your pulsing walls.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Jungkook chuckles into your ear. “Aren’t you afraid that Yoongi might wake up?” Mercifully, he slips his fingers out of your mouth so you can speak.

“You started this,” you whine.

“And I can stop it too.”

After uttering those words, Jungkook stills completely. When you look back in dismay, he wears a cocky smile, his hands crossed in front of his clothed chest, with an eyebrow raised up in a challenge.

“Sup?” he asks mockingly with a tilt of his chin.

You say nothing as you stare into his eyes, annoyed that he's fucking with your right now. You squeeze your thighs together, surrounding his length with your warmth, but he doesn’t react; that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.

Looks like you’re going to have to wipe that off yourself.

Keeping your eyes on him as best as you can, you prop your hands on the arms of the chair. Lifting your body slightly, you squeeze and unsqueeze your thighs around his length. The gasp from behind you is all you need to feel triumphant, your lips curving upwards into a victorious smirk. Yet it doesn’t last, because Jungkook, in his immeasurable strength, is able to hold you down and force your legs apart.

“Fine. Here’s the cock you fucking love so much.” He rasps the harsh words in your ear before he lifts you up by the thighs and buries his cock into you in one fluid motion.

Your body shudders at the sudden intrusion; your head lolling backwards onto his shoulder limply.

“So goddamn tight,” he hisses through his teeth. “Don't go passing out on me, you have a job to do.” Jungkook takes hold of your hand and brings it towards your clit. “Rub that pretty pussy for me until you cum.”

Underneath the blanket, you’re beginning to burn, its soft fabric scratchy against your sensitive skin. But you keep it on, afraid to expose your depravity to Yoongi, even if he’s still sound asleep. You glance towards the sleeping figure one more time while you move your fingers with uncertainty.

Is he really asleep? Can't he hear the soft pants that's spilling past your lips?

Jungkook pinches your nipples in warning. "Get on with it, angel."

At first, your fingers shake as you press ight circles on the sensitive nub, but you eventually find a good rhythm; your hips rocking into your palm.

“That’s it baby,” he groans, his eyes rolling back. “I can feel you tightening up for me. It feels so fucking good.”

His own hands return to your tits, although his touch this time is much gentler. When you’re close to the peak, Jungkook demands that you speed up, replacing your fingers with his own as he tips you by the hair so he can watch every hint of bliss on your face.

Jungkook opens his mouth to mimic your own quiet moans. “Oh shit, so tight for me. God, I want to bend you over and fuck you until you scream.” Then he hisses as your walls pulse around him before delivering a spank on your clit. “What the fuck? Is that what you want? Oh, you filthy fucking bitch. Does the thought of being watched turn you on? Fine then,” his hand leaves you to rip the blanket away from your burning figure, “try not to scream.”

With both hands under your thigh, Jungkook pulls you up so that only the tip of his cock remains inside of you before forcing you back down. “Oh, fuuuck!” he groans with careless abandon. He uses your body like a rag doll, moving your hips for you as he sinks repeatedly into your heat.

“Shit… Jungkook…” It’s impossible to keep your voice down with Jungkook spearing inside of you. Your brain has turned to mush – hyperfocusing on just the pleasure between your thighs.

You twist towards Jungkook, catching him on the lips between raspy moans. You’re hot, sweaty, and your thighs are starting to ache, but you continue to chase that bliss like a madwoman, grunting at every drag of him inside.

“I’m close,” you whisper into his mouth.

“Good, fuck, me too,” Jungkook husks. He catches your tongue between your lips and sucks at the tender muscle. "Cum with me, baby. I can't wait to fill you up."

You moan dutifully in his mouth, caught in the dizzying sensation—

“What the fuck?”

You yelp as you scramble away from Jungkook. You pull the blanket off the floor to cover yourself, even though you know it’s too late. Yoongi definitely saw everything, although right now, he seems to find your beige-coloured walls to be suddenly interesting.

The seconds seem to tick by slowly. Ugh. This was precisely why you didn’t want anyone to sleep over in your shared apartment. How the fuck are you going to get out of this mess?

Jungkook has the gall to look sheepish, flashing the older man a cute smile that shows off his dimples. “Sorry, I was horny, and she’s so soft, yknow?”

“You couldn’t have, I don’t know, moved to the bedroom?” Yoongi asks, appalled.

You’re about to apologize to save your modesty when Jungkook scoffs behind you, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on! This is our apartment, we can fuck wherever and whenever we want.”

Yoongi drags his palm over his beet-red face, still refusing to look at the two of you. “That doesn’t mean the living room where there’s a fucking guest sleeping not even a foot away, asshole!”

“For the record, you’re the one intruding,” you huff.

“Yeah! So, it’s technically your fault,” Jungkook chimes in, and squeezes you against his chest. “Feel free to leave, by the way, the door is that way.”

The silence lingers. Yoongi’s fidgeting; he’s crossing and uncrossing his legs. It's then that you wonder why he hasn't gotten up to leave, but you quickly find your answer when your eyes fall past the black turtleneck that shows off his built chest, and onto his lap.

You're about to say something when Jungkook cuts you off, muttering curtly, “Ugh, whatever. If you don’t mind, I have to give my girlfriend a mindblowing orgasm. You can leave or you can join us.”

“Jungkook!” You and Yoongi shout in unison, but for very different reasons.

He rips the blanket away from you and continues his pace as though Yoongi didn’t just interrupt you and he isn’t now watching you fuck. You’re having a hard time feeling embarrassed, because it’s been replaced with relief. Now, you can moan however loud you want without the risk of waking up another human being.

You slide your eyes towards Yoongi, and to your surprise, you find his eyes already on you. His adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. You peel Jungkook’s hand away from your hip, and place his fingers in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you coat the digits with your spit, and you groan audibly when Jungkook pushes them further inside.

“Shit.” Yoongi swallows again, still full of hesitancy.

Jungkook responds with a breathy chuckle. “How about you replace my fingers? I don’t think my girl will be satisfied if you don’t join in on the fun.”

You moan in agreement, fluttering your eyelids for added effect.

With an audible groan, Yoongi stands from the couch. On his way to approach you, he strips himself off his pants and boxers, showing off his impressive length. Your mouth salivates at the thought of his cock in your mouth. He's thicker than Jungkook, but not as long. You want to lick the veins that decorate his shaft, all the way down to his balls. Yoongi's cock twitches as you ogle openly, but what comes out of his mouth is–

“A-Are you sure this is cool?”

“Fuck, Yoongi, just stick your dick in her already,” Jungkook groans.

You find this sort of hilarious – how the normally stoic Yoongi can be rendered so speechless. You know better than anyone that your boyfriend has a one-track mind. Right now, Jungkook is hardly paying attention to what's happening because he’s too busy chasing his own high. He couldn't care less whether Yoongi fucks you, but you secretly hope that the older man doesn't just pull up his pants and bail.

Your whine signifies to Jungkook that Yoongi isn't doing anything yet. With a click of his tongue in annoyance, he sits up and pries your mouth open by hooking his fingers into your cheeks, pulling your mouth apart. “Fucking hurry up! She's getting distracted with you just standing there.”

That's all the encouragement Yoongi needs to pull your head down so he can sink himself inside. Your lips are straining to enclose around his shaft, the sheer girth making it almost impossible for you to breathe.

“Okay, baby, you good to continue, right?” Jungkook asks, but he doesn’t wait for your response before he resumes his punishing pace.

Since Yoongi isn’t intent on moving, you grab him by the hips as you match your boyfriend’s rhythm. You take him the best that you could, plunging him past your pillowy lips and down your throat, and you’re rewarded with a loud groan of your name.

Finally, it seems like Yoongi’s letting go of his restraints. He grabs fistfuls of your hair as he pounds your throat.

“How does my favourite fuck toy feel?” Jungkook snickers as he pushes your head onto Yoongi's dick. "Her throat is god-sent, right?"

Yoongi’s completely lost in bliss – his mouth slightly open to pant softly. “Shit – so fucking good.”

“And my baby? Feeling good?” Jungkook asks you as he bends down to kiss your shoulder.

“Mmmh!” you moan around Yoongi’s length in affirmation.

“Gonna need you to be louder, sweetheart,” Jungkook clicks his tongue.

A sharp slap resounds in the air as Jungkook slaps your clit again, and this time, you keen louder, your eyes screwing shut when he soothes the sting with his fingers. “That’s beautiful. God, I can listen to you scream all day. Keep singing for us, angel.”

Without any prior warning, Yoongi strikes you across the cheek. Not hard enough that it hurts, but it does leave you stunned momentarily. “You’re getting distracted. Just because your boyfriend is fucking you, doesn’t mean you can forget who’s controlling your breathing.”

Was this Yoongi’s true colours all along? You can’t say you’re surprised, but it is welcomed for sure. His threat shoots straight down your core, causing you to gush out spurts of liquid onto the upholstery. You tear yourself away from Yoongi’s cock to groan; the long-overdue orgasm is about to crest over you. But the older man tightens his grip on your head to bring you back, and this time, his pretty hand wraps itself around your throat, his thumb pressing on your pulse point.

“You really can’t fucking listen to simple directions, huh? Don’t think you get to cum without us, bitch.” Yoongi growls.

Jungkook chuckles. “That’s what you get for being distracted, angel.” His large hands return to your tits, pinching and twisting the nipples before he delivers a firm slap on your mounds. “Oooh, yes, tighten up more for me… fuck.”

“Mmh!” you cry. You pop Yoongi’s cock out of your mouth to give your jaw a break, your hand replacing your mouth’s movements. With your eyes firmly on his, you lean forward to lick his balls, groaning at the taste that coats your tongue. You give each of them your undivided attention, popping one in your mouth to coat them in spit, all the while bouncing on Jungkook's cock.

“Taste good?” Yoongi chuckles while patting your head. It’s an endearing motion, and you happily nod along, a drunken smile plastered on your face. “Oh, I bet you taste good too. Stick your tongue out, angel.”

You straighten up as best you can, pushing the wet muscle past your lips. Yoongi bends down to grab your face with his large hand, tipping your chin up so he has better access to your face. He clamps his lips around your tongue and sucks, a heady groan sounding in the back of his throat.

“Oi, keep shaking your ass, baby. Don’t forget who’s making you cum tonight,” Jungkook grunts. He digs his fingers into your ass to remind you, as though it’s easy for you to forget the large cock that’s spearing inside of you.

You giggle, parting from Yoongi's lips to resume jacking him off, while you turn back to face your boyfriend. “Aww, don’t tell me you’re jealous over a little kiss. You know I only love you.” You punctuate your words by clenching your walls, earning you a loud, throaty moan from the raven-haired boy.

“You say that, but you look so happy when I fuck your throat. I would argue that you just love cocks,” Yoongi sneers, maneuvering you to face him again. You open your mouth obediently when the tip of his cock taps your lips. When he sinks in, he hisses, though there’s a satisfied smirk on his face when your eyes fill with tears. “God… if only you could see yourself right now.”

You hum in satisfaction at the compliment. It’s a miracle enough to have one very attractive man fucking you… but two? You’re in euphoria; tuned into your deepest, most carnal desires. You let both men use you to their satisfaction, and it isn’t long before both their thrusts become erratic, hips stuttering as their high reaches its peak.

Sweat slicks your back as you chase after your own elusive ember. Twice now you’ve gone to the brink of bliss, only to be pulled away. If it happens again, you’re not sure you’d stay sane. With determination, you slam your hips on Jungkook’s cock, and your hand comes up to help stroke Yoongi along until both men are left panting and groaning.

“Shiiit, fuck!” Jungkook swears, tightening his grip on your hips as he matches your rhythm. He snakes his hand in between your legs, rubbing your forgotten clit to aid you along.

“Eager to be painted in cum, aren’t you?” Yoongi’s breathless – his words coming out laboured as his hips stutter. “Fuck – ah… Swallow it all, baby. I wanna see you drink me in.”

Yoongi plunges deep into your throat, holding your head with his large hand as you choke around him. You can hardly breathe with your nose pressed into his dark curls, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world spins due to the lack of oxygen.

“Fuck –“ he manages to utter as you’re forced to swallow his seed. When he finishes emptying himself inside of you, you open your mouth wide to show him your efforts.

"Good girl," Yoongi praises, pressing his lips on the tops of your head. "Now you can focus on getting your boyfriend to cum."

As Yoongi collapses on the floor, you bring your attention to Jungkook. You clench your walls so they constrict around him – milking him until he comes undone with a loud groan, body shaking as he paints your insides in white.

“Oh my god, baby, I’m cumming. I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum—ahhh…” Jungkook grunts, driving his cock deep into your pussy.

It's the edge you need to crumble into pleasure. Your body burns white hot; stars dancing across your vision. "C-Cumming!" you yelp, and you too, shiver with pleasure, spine locking up and toes curling while the waves slam against your battered body.

“Shit – Jungkook, Jungkook… fuck… no more. No more!” you wail when your boyfriend keeps thrusting inside. You’re sweaty and sore, used past the point where you can no longer feel your legs.

You collapse back onto Jungkook’s chest, your boyfriend whispering sweet nothings into your lips as he kisses you languidly. His softening cock slips out of you, bringing with it a glob of your mixed juices that drip onto his leg, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care, too focused on basking in the glow of an orgasm.

Yoongi’s faring no better. His legs can't seem to support his weight. So he lies sprawled on the floor, breathing hard with an arm draped over his eyes.

“I just want to say, this was not what I had in mind when I asked if I could crash at your place tonight,” Yoongi says as he huffs out a chuckle.

“To be fair,” you murmur, sitting up to grab a few tissues from the small table next to you. “Jungkook started it.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend laughs as he wraps his arms around you. Jungkook pecks at your cheek before settling his head on your shoulder. “And you get to reap the benefits too. We did all the hard work while you sat there and looked pretty.”

You kiss Jungkook’s temple with a smile, just above his piercing. “How about next time I do all the work while you boys lie down?”

Yoongi perks up at this, sitting up to gape at you. “There’s a next time?”

Two pairs of eager eyes stare at you as you stand to stretch out the cramps from sitting too long. With a sly grin at the two of them, you wink, "Only if I get to 'just sit there and look pretty'."

“Min. Yoongi.”

He cleared his throat. He lifted his face, spun his heel around and left the area, not a word was said. Not even any indication of apology, he just fucking left. As if you were never there. As if he didn’t just cut in line. He just… disappeared. You called his name several times, stormed after him. Your backpack flung around as you made a drastic turn to (in your head, you planned to either strangle him or bludgeon with your folded umbrella) and stopped Yoongi in his tracks. Yoongi tried to walk on your left, your right, and around but you didn’t let him. 

“Go away,” he muttered, eyes thrown to the left as he grips tighter on his bag strap on one shoulder. His shoulder length mullet slightly moved with the wind.

“Apologize,” you demanded.

“No,” he spat, trailing his eyes down to you.

“You cut into my line!” you screeched.

He scoffed and said, “You were so slow… Why do I have to apologize for you being so slow?”

“I was there first, I came in and no one was there and it was 7:59 am and I could still have made it and then you barged in unwarranted might I add, and you just stole my spot!” you lifted your forefinger to add the severity of the situation, “Apologize!”

“But I don’t feel sorry,” he shrugged his shoulders, looking blankly at you and his lips in the shape of a slight pout. Then he lifted his left wrist for his wrist watch and he darted dryly, “And you’re 5 minutes late for the meeting.”

“What meeting?” 

“The first week of the month planning meeting,” he said.

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck,” you stormed and walked past him until he caught you by the collar and said in a dry tone, “You haven’t punched in.”

“And whose fault is that,” you spoke through gritted teeth. You pinched his wrist and he recoiled while hissing in silent pain. He was in legit pain but he didn’t want to sound weak so he bit the insides of his cheek and squinted at your tiny body as you walked towards the thumbprint scanner again. 

“I need this hand to earn a living!” he hollered at your sorry back. Then when he’s sure you didn’t see him, he throws a smirk. Then shrugs it off in the presence of somebody. 

You hated Min Yoongi. For as long as you worked here, you have hated the sight of him. You and Yoongi go way back. You started your internship in this company 2 years ago. He was already working as a Machine Specialist for 4 years. 

You thought he looked cute the first time you saw him, with his incredibly fair skin and veiny arms— he was a sight. He has a mullet, dyed blonde at the tips and you have never seen such feminine set of lips on a guy before; they’re almost doll-like! Or ever imagined it to be possible until you met a certain Min Yoongi. 

Broad shoulders and a pretty face, it was not difficult to fall for him, or to have a slight crush. You may or may not have ogled over him like a lovesick teenager the first two days in this factory. Being an intern, who could stop you? Until one day, your superior Seokjin told you to follow a certain Machine Specialist around to learn how machines work, and that Machine Specialist, MS for short, was none other than Min Yoongi. 

He was supposed to train you and by the end of two weeks, you will be put to a test and Min Yoongi will be marking you. As instructed by Seokjin. 

As an intern, you have lots of questions. 

Let’s say you did sort of give him a hard time. It is not easy, because even though you excelled in the theory part of the machines, seeing it physically and managing it hands-on is something that would take time. It doesn’t take a genius to know that. For the first few days together, Yoongi was a machine-gun in explaining the parts and screws, nuts and bolts of the machine and this isn’t just one, there were at least 8 machines at work at the moment. 

“Sir, may I ask…”

“Mr. Min.”

“Sorry, Mr.Min…”

He was as dry as the Sahara desert. With every questions you asked, he managed to make you look stupid. To the point where you sort of whack yourself in the head for asking an incredibly superficial question that could have been answered with 10% of brain knowledge and a whole lot of common sense. Raising your hand in tiny, Yoongi huffed. From the sound of his sighs, you know he was getting tired with all the shenanigans you brought into his plate that day.

“What now…”

“What if the primary packaging line doesn’t work will the secondary packaging line stop too?”

“If there is no cook, does the waiter have anything to send to the customer’s table?”

You let out an awkward laughter.

“That would be a no, got it,” you scribbled it down on your notebook that you carried around. 

“Maybe if one spends more time actually involved in the process, and less with pen and papers in lectures, maybe, it will be easier to absorb in that thick skull of yours…” he muttered under his breath but you caught every word. You suffered a few more hours with him before you returned to Seokjin’s office to cry about how he treated you. And your best bet was Seokjin was going to hear every detail.

Seokjin widens his eyes in absolute shock, his shook his head several times and said,

“Well, I thought you too would get along well since you both are the same age and all.”

“What?” you paused,  “We’re. The. Same. Age??!”

Soekjin nodded and pursed his lips.

“He made me call him Mr. Min!” You wail more, sniffing into the tissue Seokjin gave you and Seokjin opens a new box of tissue seeing your state. Not enough with that, after the strenuous, most stressful 4 weeks with Min Yoongi, you were astounded to know that you had the lowest score for the machine-understanding test, marked by yours truly, Min Yoongi. And for petty reasons too. For not remembering the nuts and screw sizes, for misspelling the machines names and date of manufacture and many more that even Seokjin finds utterly ridiculous to give such low marks for. Under Seokjin’s own supervision, you sit the test again and this time, you requested a different examiner— and you passed to continue the next part of your internship.

It was that moment on, you decided that Yoongi is a jerk. No compromise. A full-fledged demon wearing a human mask. 

I don’t care how pretty he looks, he is an absolute ass for living and for existing near me. Although I imagine highly inappropriate stuff with his veiny hands to help me sleep at night, he in all he is, in person, is a pain in the ass. My ass.

But you don’t have to like the person to fantasize about him, right? Even as he sits across the cafeteria with his green lunch box, scrolling through his phone nonchalantly as if he didn’t just ruin your day a couple of hours ago in front of the thumbprint scanner. 

You also don’t remember phones being that small in someone’s hand. How is he able to hold it in one hand, that’s ridiculous. Just how big is his hand really. You tunneled into the vision of his veiny arms, his whitened knuckles and his rolled up sleeves. His Timberland boots rocking away to adhere to his vibrating knees. You imagined putting your hands on those arms. The callus on his fingertips gliding down your ribs, hips and thighs. You felt your nipples hardened at the thought, a familiar thudding on your nubs and the classic squirming between your thighs. You had to look down at your pitiful lunch consisting of limp salads, a carton of milk and banana, and put your backpack on your lap to distract yourself. 

Yoongi stood up and you noticed he had tied his jacket around his waist, on top of his dark blue jumpsuit. Your eyes must have been playing tricks on you but you thought you saw the outlines of his package. It was a quick glance, but it was so prominent. Your lips dried up at the thought. Lucky girl, his girlfriend is. If that’s the package he's carrying, she would be extremely happy and full. Pun intended. But let’s not forget, he is still that jackass who gave you the lowest mark, insulted you for studying and made you call him Mr. Min when he is your age. He walked in front of your table bringing his lunch box in one hand and it took everything in you not to glance down at his—

“Salad makes people miserable, and late I guess,” he remarked. A small grin playing on the side of his lips as he taps on his lunch box on your table just to spite you. You glared and rolled your eyes at him. You took the straw and drank your kiddie box of milk, trying to ignore him.

“I wasn’t late, I was hijacked of my spot,” you grinded your jaws, answering.

“Isn’t it too late for that?” He eyed the milk, “Growth stops at 16 for girls, right?” he giggled low.

“Get off my ass Yoongi…”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Another thing to be annoyed about is how HR placed your locker right below Min Yoongi’s. You have requested for a change of locker in the opposing section but for now, HR said there are no available lockers with the size you preferred. HR said a lot of things, from under construction to missing keys; the key point take-away here is, you’re not getting a new locker unless you buy one yourself. But of course, they won’t allow you to do that. So here you are, under Yoongi’s elbow, trying to put your lunch boxes in, and trying to get a bottle of water, his hip occasionally brushing against your ass when you lowered your stand to poke your head in the locker. Yoongi has a habit of humming as he looks for things in his locker. It sounds like purrs for some reason and sometimes, it's close to your ears— too ridiculously close for any sane thoughts to come through. 

“Will you please hurry up?” he grouched, “I can’t find my pen and I think it’s in there but I can’t get my head in there, if you’re standing underneath me…”

“If you don’t step back, I’m gonna brush my ass against your groin and I too have to find a stupid pen, asshole,” you roared back. 

“Excuse me, coming through,” a non-suspecting co-worker walked behind Yoongi, pushing him to the front, sandwiching you between him and the locker. His groin is pressed up against the valley of your plumped ass. His hand in front of your waist, his defined chest on your shoulder blades and your face smashed against the cold steel locker door. He froze and quickly repelled. 

“The lockers are all yours,” Yoongi grumbled before he fled to the end of the hall and disappeared. 

You can’t help but recall the feeling. Hours after it happened, you were sitting on your desk, pen in your mouth thinking. What was that hard rod thing you felt? The bulge. Was he… Was he having a boner? You frowned.

“What’s going on? You had 17 expression switch for the last 2 minutes, what the fuck is going on?” Seokjin stormed right beside you, making you jump. Like when did he even move from his desk to yours? It would take at least 5 minutes. You gasped.

“Nothing… nothing,” you straightened up in your seat, fixing your blouse and clearing your throat. Maybe you’ll keep that fantasy for tonight. Where you get to meet the sweet Yoongi, the Yoongi you imagined to be, the nice Yoongi, the Yoongi you’d kill less. The sensual, tentative, highly perceptive, sexy mouthed Yoongi. Not the despicable, foul-mouthed, sleazy face Yoongi who is walking right into your department and to your desk right now. The confident stride paired with the handsome boy face is a recipe for your demise— it doesn’t take a lot for you to turn your attention to the paper Seokjin just shoved in your arms as he spoke to the MS. 

“The Qualification department is all up in my ass wanting me to train people for the new machine and with the current planning en-route I don’t know if I could do that, Seokjin,” Yoongi spoke in hushed tone away from you but you could still hear some of the chopped up words to know the gist of the conversation without actually being there. Seokjin patted the younger guy in the back and nodded, and he too spoke in a gentle tone, “I know, I know. I’m trying to talk to the people up above, to arrange someone else to do that, but no one is with your amount of experience. Tell you what I can do now is to postpone the date of the machine coming, and then I’ll have them to structurised the whole training so it doesn’t weigh on you. I’ll assign reliable help.”

Yoongi looked slightly relieved although he was keeping his cool demeanor. It’s not unusual for an MS to enter the production executive office, however, knowing Min Yoongi, he would rather not unless the matter is truly pressing. Talking about pressing, was that how a boner would actually feel like?

You shook your head, hoping to erase the racy thoughts. Seokjin has handed you the schedule for tonight’s production. You would be informed and your job is to make sure the MS, group leader and operators follow the schedule and run them accordingly. 

“Need you to send those to the MS group chat, as a reminder,” Seokjin taps your table twice and rushes into his own office. His lanyard flying along with him at the speed he is going. Seokjin is getting tense, maybe because the mid-year sales are going to hike and you and him will have to gather all your guns and bullets for everything that might come. Bosses are always asses in the mid-year meeting. They press you and Seokjin dry for you to press on the MS and supervisors to deliver the company monthly goals; it’s relentless— and brutal. You will have to push everyone to overtime when they don’t want to just so you could have people working on weekends. It’s not fun being an executive.

Driving home in your car, showering, and having dinner then laying to sleep that night, you couldn’t help thinking about Yoongi’s large hand and how it felt against your belly pouch that noon. He had pretty defined pecs, you could feel them protruding just nicely. Not to mention the suspected boner he had. Why did he have a boner? Google says that man could have boner when he needs to pee. Maybe he wanted to pee and you’re just overthinking it. Come on, you know he hates you. From the moment you knew each other by name, he had done everything to annoy you. No one does that to someone they like, right? Right?

You switched to your sides and muttered mindlessly, “I am way too qualified for someone who started working when they’re 19. Besides… I’m too booksmart for his worksmart-ass.” 

It took all your strength not to get up and walk away from her but you had heard from your coworker that she was one of the best marriage counsellors in Seoul. So you bit back the venom to give her a curt response, only to be cut off by Yoongi’s much more aggravated one. 

“It’s the 21st century. She doesn’t need my last name. I don’t own her.” Your eyes followed his voice to land on him, where he sat, arms folded and mouth in a tight line. You couldn’t help the petty joy that bubbled within you to see your husband directing his patented icy glare at the therapist.

“Well then what about rings? I don’t see you wearing those either,” she said haughtily, taking the two of you off guard as you guiltily stared at your empty hands. “I’m sure couples in the 21st century wear rings, don't they? Or is that another symbol of ownership, according to you?”

The harsh comment left you speechless, scrambling for excuses where there were none. The two of you used to wear your rings religiously but then sometime last year when you were working outdoors a lot, you had taken it off to avoid tan lines. Yoongi too had taken off his ring when he was in a cast after hurting his shoulder. Somehow the two of you never got back into the habit of wearing them again. 

You wondered why that was. You cherished the matching understated white gold bands, engraved with your initials. It was cheesy but it was yours and now they rested next to each other in the rarely opened jewelry box on your dresser. 

You zoned out from the questions she was asking. It wasn’t until she was bidding goodbyes that you paid attention, your heart hurting that Yoongi had to go through her interrogations alone. He didn’t talk much on the ride home, only asking if you were okay to which you responded with a nod. It wasn’t until you were lying in bed next to each other that you spoke up.

“Do you think we’re like this because we forgot about our rings?” you asked, staring at the one spot on the ceiling where the paint was missing because when the two of you had bought your house you had gotten distracted and forgot to paint it over. You were too busy giggling and assembling furniture to pay attention, and now it stared at you, mocking the silence in the room.

“Do you think we can go back if we put them on?” Yoongi countered, his tone soft, hesitant, as his hand found yours. It made your eyes glassy and your fingers tighten around his.

“Let’s try,” you said, trying to reduce the sudden wobble of your lip. Standing up, you walked to your dresser and grabbed the matching pair before sitting on the bed and starting to put yours on. However, Yoongi stopped you, sitting up and taking the ring from your hand.

“May I?” he asked, his thumb tracing the back of your hand as he held it. He was always like this, never assuming that what he wanted was what you did as well. It broke your resolve, a tear making its way down your cheek as you nodded.

He smiled then, a small thing that lifted his cheeks and brightened his eyes. Holding your hand like he did on your wedding day, he slowly slipped the ring on your finger, leaning down to kiss it gently. It was as if the last four years hadn’t happened and he was still in the black tux with the blue bowtie that matched your bouquet. When you slipped his ring on his finger, he held your hand, your rings slotting together side by side.

You didn’t know why there was a wall between you, but that night as you both fell asleep lying on your sides, hands laced between you, you felt it chip a little.

-

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I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

Nodding at him, he sat back up and pressed play on the track. It was different than anything he’d ever shown you before, the slow melodic flow of the song, paired with interesting xylophone-type of sound, immediately capturing you. Your eyebrows pulling together as you listened, a focus overtaking you.

It was just the instrumental, but it felt comforting; calming.

“This is from,” he thought out loud, “2016 probably.”

“It’s amazing, Yoon,” you complimented sincerely. “I’m actually kind of offended you’ve had this all this time just hiding in your hard drive,” you teased with a smile, Yoongi chuckling as he spun his chair around to face you.

“You think I should use it for the mixtape?” He asked, already knowing he should, but seeking your opinion anyway.

“Definitely,” you told him as you lifted the book, only to fold the corner of the page down. Dropping the novel onto the couch, you stood and easily approached the man, his gaze following you intently as you neared him. Leaning against his desk, Yoongi spun in his chair so he continued to face you. “It’s really good.”

Giving you a single appreciative nod, he held back a grin. “Thank you,” he whispered, the shyness in his gratitude adorable, making you smile. “I love your smile,” he told you suddenly, a small breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly, trying to brush over the compliment, feeling bashful under his gaze. You both simply stared at one another, both of your minds trying to decipher each other’s expressions.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked you, clueless as to what was going on in your mind, but knowing there was something weighing on it.

With a small sigh, you flashed him a small smile. “Do you think I’m a good person?” You asked him, the man’s eyebrows pulling together.

“I do,” he replied simply, though his expression remained the same. “Why?”

“I saw an old friend today,” you told him as you lifted yourself onto the desk so you were seated atop it, your feet dangling above the floor.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hands coming to rest on your knees.  

“She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her,” you continued. “We used to be so close in school and now, it’s like I hardly know her,” you told him, the fragility of your voice apparent to your own ears, so you knew Yoongi heard it too. “She has a baby I had no idea about.”

Yoongi stared at you thoughtfully, locking his eyes with yours, a rare occurrence for him. “Why is that making you concerned about your goodness as a person?”

“I just-” you paused thoughtfully. “I let that relationship fade away. You know, I was the one who stopped communicating, I was the one who cancelled plans, I just pulled away and withdrew.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human,” he informed you, his thumbs soothing along the insides of your thighs, just above your knee caps. “People change.”

Nodding in understanding, you directed a small tight smile at him. “You know, as happy as I am with my life and the people in it,” you scrunched your nose, poking his hand with your finger to emphasize his important role among those people, Yoongi letting a small smile grace his features, “I feel nostalgic for something,” you finished. Lifting his hand from your leg, he wrapped it around your own hand, holding it comfortingly in his grasp. His palm was as warm as his considerate gaze, and you realized for the hundredth time that Yoongi was warmth embodied. “Does everyone feel like this or is there something wrong with me?” You scoffed lightly at yourself.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He teased, making a small giggle leave your lips as you softly jerked your knee up to bump his arm in light-hearted complaint. “I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think I miss the person I was before,” he looked around the studio, “you know, all this,” he admitted, referring to his career.

Leaning toward him, you listened intently, your orbs scanning his features as he pondered over the thoughts within his mind.

“Maybe not even the person, but the life,” he elaborated, you humming in understanding.

“Do you find that it was a simpler time?” You asked, intrigued by his words.

“Not so much simpler but just different, I guess,” he thought out loud. “It feels like I sacrificed the ordinary for the extraordinary,” he added, latching his gaze onto your legs as you stared down at him. “And now the ordinary becomes extraordinary,” he said, lowering his chin to your knees as his fingers picked at the fraying around the hole in your jeans.

Your free hand that wasn’t being held by his found its way to his hair, your fingers digging into his soft strands.

“I sound ungrateful,” he chuckled dryly against your legs, you shaking your head despite him not seeing it, his eyes still glued to the hole in your clothing.

“No, just human,” you spoke up. “It’s natural to long for those realities that belong to some but not to us,” you assured him, the man rotating his face so his cheek rested against your leg, his orbs gazing up at you.

“People dream of having my life though,” he mumbled, his lips slightly pouted making him look precious despite the negative thoughts swirling around his head and leaving that adorable pout. “And here I am just wishing I could walk down the street without a care in the world,” he smiled a bit. “Am I even a good person? I feel greedy.”

Brushing your fingers through his hair, you pouted, watching him for a moment before responding. “I’m biased, but I think you are.”

“You sure?” He quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes that made you smile as a breathy chuckle left your lips.  

“You’re a good person, Yoongi, I won’t have you thinking otherwise,” you insisted with a glare, Yoongi’s lips curving into a grin in response.

“My life isn’t any more special than anyone else’s,” he suddenly decided. “Just different.”

Nodding at him, you agreed. “You’re just a person.” Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, preparing to tease you for the lackluster conclusion, your mouth already shaping into a knowing smile. “But my favorite person,” you added. “So that’s something.”

Placing a kiss to your jean adorned knee, he grinned. “It’s everything.”

“I think it has meaning,” you noted, your and Yoongi’s conversation taking several different paths throughout the past forty-five minutes or so. You were now talking about the meaning of life, and whether there was a meaning at all. “I just don’t know what,” you added with a shy smile.

Yoongi’s gummy grin beamed up at you as he squeezed your thigh playfully. “I go back and forth. Like, we’re here by chance, right? Maybe life is no deeper than that,” he explained, you nodding in understanding. “But also, I found music and BTS, and here I am with you, and all of that feels meaningful,” he added thoughtfully.

“Do you believe in fate?” You questioned curiously.

“Maybe,” he responded, his voice sliding up slightly in pitch.

“I find myself thinking that same thing. Like maybe we don’t have a purpose as living beings except to just, be here, and live. And maybe it’s the people we know and the experiences we have that give it all meaning,” you thought aloud, Yoongi humming as he peered up at you.

“Yeah, I like that,” he settled with a small close-mouthed smile that pushed his fluffy cheeks up adorably. Moving your hand from his hair, you poked his cheek, Yoongi giving you a feigned grimace in reply.

“Ok, so question for you,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes widening in anticipation. “If your life wasn’t so extraordinary, what would you do?”

“Like, without the fame?” He asked.

“Yeah, let’s say for a day, no one knew who Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D was, what would you do?” You asked with a small smile, feeling giddy to hear his answer.  

“I would take you out on the most normal run of the mill date,” he answered easily.

“That’s what you’d do?!” You asked in disbelief, Yoongi smiling cutely. “What like to the movies?”

“To the movies and to dinner and to get ice cream and we’d walk around Seoul without a care in the world about who could see us,” he grinned.

“We’ve done all those things though,” you pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, we have our spots that feel safe, and we venture out on occasion, but we could go anywhere without the stress of being seen,” he explained. “No worries, just us.”

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed his hair off his forehead gently. “I didn’t realize you had so much stress when we go out,” you noted, a softness evident in your tone.

“I’m just- hyperaware,” he clarified.

“Would you hold my hand in the street, Honey Boy?” You asked with a wide grin, Yoongi chuckling at you.

“I wouldn’t let go of your hand,” he told you, his thumb running along the side of your hand as he spoke the words. “You know what else I would do?” He asked happily.

“What?” You whispered through your beaming grin.

“I’d kiss you in front of everyone,” he returned your smile. “And I’d post a cheesy photo of us on my pubic instagram to brag about how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, Yoongi giggling as his chin rested on top of your knee.

“It would be nice,” he hummed thoughtfully, as if he was losing himself in a day dream where he could live so carelessly.

Moving your hand to the side of his face, you pulled his attention back to you as you cocked your head at him and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” you stared to sing playfully, Yoongi dropping his forehead to your knee as he laughed at you.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked back up to you with his gummy grin, his eyes bright and full of adoration. “I love that song,” he noted, you giggling.

“Me too,” you replied in a whisper.

A pause in the conversation took place as Yoongi’s eyes scanned over your features, yours following the movement of his gaze. When his eyes met yours, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk and stood in front of you, his hands finding your waist as his face hovered close to yours.

Placing a kiss to the side of your mouth, you breathed out slowly, the intimacy between you both blossoming more stunningly than it ever had before.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as your hands found his neck, your fingers greedily but gently exploring the soft skin of his neck and jaw, grazing over his throat.

“I love you too,” you told him. “Forever.”

Pressing your lips to his, he brought his body as close to yours as he could, wanting you as close as possible. As he deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in synchronization with his own, his hands found the bottom of your shirt.

Tugging up, you removed your hands from him to allow him to pull the clothing from your frame. Dropping the shirt onto the desk next to your bodies, his eyes glanced down at your chest to see the flimsy lace bra. As one of his hands moved behind you to feel your back, sliding down to grasp the top of your ass, he dragged the finger of his opposite hand along the edge of your bra cup.

“What does forever mean?” He suddenly asked in a low timbre, just before pressing a lingering peck to your mouth. “You never know what the future holds,” he said realistically, though his tone was still seductive and light.

“I think the intent behind the word is what matters,” you told him, trailing kisses along his neck, Yoongi tilting his head to the side to allow you more access. “What a person feels when they speak the word.”

“So what do you feel? What do you mean when you say forever?” He questioned, your head raising to look him in the eyes.

Scooting off the desk, you stood in front of Yoongi, your gaze locked on his. “When I say forever,” you started, your hands finding the sides of his face as his held your waist. “I mean it literally. For always, evermore, in this lifetime and the next. Maybe even past lifetimes. The future is unpredictable, but when I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean,” you assured him as the man stared at you with a surety you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before.

Leaning in to kiss him again, you began pushing him backward, you both stumbling as he bumped into the chair. Your lips curved upward into the kiss, you both chuckling as you continued your clumsy ministrations.

Finding your way to the couch, you dropped onto it, sliding across it so you could recline, Yoongi standing above you watching you intently. As you stared up at him with a smirk, he shed himself of his shirt. Crawling atop you, your hands grabbed onto his hips, your fingers digging underneath the waistband.

He kissed you passionately, pouring his feelings and emotions into the action, causing you to moan, the sound melting against the man’s mouth, making him smirk. Sitting up on his knees, he undid the zipper on his own jeans before reaching for your own. His eyes left your legs for just a moment as he reached for the book shoved against the back of the sofa.

“This any good?” He asked, you quirking your eyebrow.

“It is, want me to read it to you?” You asked, Yoongi scoffing as he tossed it onto the table, you giggled as he went back to pulling your clothes from your body.

As he removed his clothing, you reached for your bag on the floor next to you, pulling a condom out, Yoongi smirking at you.

Once your clothing was removed, giggles flooding the room as you both struggled to wiggle out of your jeans and your bra flung somewhere across the studio, it was a matter of seconds until his skin was against yours, your body caged by his arms. 

He kissed you passionately, a hand on your waist as his other arm supported his weight over you. Slipping inside you, you groaned out at the sensation, Yoongi breathing lowly at the feeling of you. 

As you clasped a leg around his, your hand grasping at his ass, he placed delicate kisses across you face, giving special attention to your cheeks as he began dragging his hips. 

“I love you,” he whispered before pushing his mouth to yours, swallowing your breaths and whimpers. He moved slowly, savoring every moment of being together, wanting this night to last, forever. 

Your hands clutched his back, clinging to him as he moved in and out of you with a passionate force that had you moaning out near his ear. And he reveled in your sounds, knowing he was the cause, knowing you were his. Forever.

Leaving a kiss to his earlobe, you confessed your love for him once more. And then again. And again.

The knife slid easily through the small block and Yoongi got to work cutting it into small, rectangular pieces which he arranged neatly around the pot of dip on the wooden block. Jeong-sun looked up from her laptop, perched precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter, and gestured towards the platter. “She won’t eat that…”

Yoongi looked up, pointing the sharp edge towards the Bree. “This one?” He asked. 

Jeong-sun nodded. “She doesn’t like soft cheeses.” Yoongi looked at the immaculately placed slices. “She says they have the consistency of wet clay.” She shrugged. 

He pressed his lips together before wordlessly scooping them off the tray and onto a plate. “That’s very specific.” He put aside the plate and reached for the still sealed block of chevre, sliding it back into the fridge. “Are you sure she wouldn’t prefer a cooked meal?” He asked as he pulled out a jar of green olives from the top shelf and set it beside the platter. 

“She’s a picky eater.” Jeong-sun explained easily, as though she had done it a dozen times before. “This’ll be easier.” 

Yoongi unscrewed the lid and drained the liquid in the sink, waiting until the last drop had escaped before he filled a small bowl with the small, round fruits. “Have you told her?” He asked, the slight emphasis in his voice telling her what he was referring to. Turning back to look at her, he observed the reflection of light in her rectangular spectacles as she stared at the screen, ust making out the familiar picture in the glass; the concrete campus they had visited the week before was surrounded by a freshly-mowed lawn; a few figures in the foreground welcoming visitors.

Jeong-sun nodded. “Yeah.” She minimised the page before closing the lid of the laptop. “I spoke to her on the phone.”

“Do you think she can make it?”

“She said she’ll try to get an extended lunch break.” Carrying the device at arm’s length, she walked over to the table in the corner of the room and reached for the charger as Yoongi opened a packet of salted crackers. 

“We could wait for a Saturday.” He suggested hopefully. “I imagine it’ll work better for Nana too.”

Jeong-sun looked up. “The weekend will be more expensive to book.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I’ll just remortgage the house.” 

His dry remark made her grin and she moved slowly over to the counter, hands resting lightly on her wide-set hips. “I just thought a weekday would be easier to book at short notice.” She explained. 

He put down the empty packet and folded the edges neatly, ready to be recycled. “I’ll pull a few strings.” 

Jeong-sun joined his side, touching his forearm lightly with her warm hand. “You’re not going to use the fame card are you?” She teased. 

“Only if it gets us a discount.” Her growing smile made him blush and he turned away, gesturing towards the bowl of olives. “Does she like these?”

“I think so…” She murmured, plucking one from the pile and popping it into her mouth. She chewed it hungrily, feeling her stomach grumble and watching as he scattered the salted crackers artfully around the wooden platter. “Will you wear a hanbok?” She asked, a playful smile staining her lips. 

He laughed gently. “They make me look shorter.” 

Jeong-sun thought for a moment, eyes moving across the array of food. “I guess we’ll look mismatched.” She agreed easily, passing him the chopped up carrot sticks and celery from the counter behind them when she saw him reaching. 

Yoongi glanced at her, thanking as quietly as he took them from her outstretched hand. “Did you find something you like?”

She smirked playfully. “If I did, I’m not telling you.”

He smiled, shrugging in reply as they took it in turns placing the neat little sticks in the guacamole dip, facing up so they could be easily taken. The food reminded him.. “Did you think any more about caterers?” 

Her lips twisted, realising she hadn’t even thought of it. “We should just order pizza.” She murmured dismissively, making him laugh as he realised it was left up to her, she probably would. 

The notification bell rang in Jeong-sun’s pocket and she slipped her phone from the confines of her jeans, reading the message.

“She’s on her way.” 

Yoongi nodded, glimpsing at his Rolex and realising it was later than he thought. Quickly, he finished off the carrot sticks and turned to the neat triangle of sandwiches and bowl of savoury rice he had placed on the bottom shelf of the fridge. “Nana said she’d bake a cake.” He murmured to Jeong-sun, who had started to undress beside the sofa. She looked up, fingers resting on the top button of her blouse. 

“She doesn’t have to.” 

He shrugged, watching her over the counter as she reached for the ironed dress on the armrest of the chair and slipped it on over her navy bra. “You know Nana, she’ll do it anyway.” He argued, knowing it was true. “She asked me what you like.”

Jeong-sun was bent down, slipping her jeans off from under the wide, pleated skirt of her tea-dress. “What did you say?”

He laughed breathily, unwrapping the sandwiches from the tinfoil tray. “Carrot cake.”

She rolled her eyes, taking off her socks in favour of a pair of black tights which hung on the clothes’ horse. “That’s not very conventional.”

“I know.” Yoongi agreed. “You’re weird.”

Jeong-sun shot him an unimpressed leer, though knew he was right about her taste in confectionery and admittedly would prefer it over a traditional cake. She collected her discarded clothes and dumped them into the washer, returning a moment later to find Yoongi staring blankly at the buffet. She touched his shoulder lightly, making him look at her. “You’re not nervous are you?” She asked gently. 

His eyes moved across her features, expression softening. “To marry you?” 

She smiled. “I meant Yu-jin, but that too.”

He thought for a moment. “Yes and no.”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow pointedly. “In that order?”

He met her gaze cooly. “You guess.”

Jeong-sun laughed, though her expression quickly turned serious as she patted his shoulder scoldingly. “If you get cold feet, you’d better let me know.”

His lips crept upwards in a grin at the suggestion. “So you can start your life as a spinster?” He teased. 

She nodded. “Like Miss Havisham.” Pulling away, she turned to the countertop and reached for a pair of chopsticks. “I’ll stop all my clocks.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind.” She gestured dismissively, mixing the rice in the bowl as Yoongi began to arrange the sandwiches on the platter. “Did you remember the ginger ale?” She asked. 

He pointed over to the window sill and she followed his finger to the two-litre bottle in the middle, next to a corked Pinot noir. “It’s over there.” He murmured, adding... “I quite like it.” 

She scoffed. “I’ve never seen you drink it before.”

Yoongi shrugged, thinking for a moment. “It never occurred to me to buy it.”

Jeong-sun realised that she hadn’t either...it wasn’t something that ever passed her mind while shopping in the supermarket. “It’s her favourite soda.” She smiled, knowing it made a strange kind of sense that Yu-jin, who was beyond particular when it came to food and beverages, would have a preference for the often-overlooked flavour. 

“Is this okay?” Yoongi asked, taking a step back from the counter to admire his handiwork. 

Jeong-sun nodded. “It looks nice.”

“Shall I put on some music?” He offered. 

She shook her head. “It’ll be okay.” Reaching for his waist, she rubbed it tenderly. “I’m glad you’re getting to meet her properly.”

He nodded, taking her spare hand in his. “I was a bit distracted last time.” His mind flashed back to the party, where everyone had seemed so raucous and chaotic. The moment of calm in the closet had felt like a godsend and had replayed in his mind a few days later while he sat aimlessly in his studio, contemplating the last of his whisky. 

“Was it my tits?” She asked seriously, taking him off guard. 

“I didn’t get a good look.” He admitted, holding back laughter as she pulled him closer. 

Moving her palms across his hips, she leaned in to peck him gently on the lips. “Once we’re married you can look all you want.”

“It’s about time.” He murmured against her, teeth pressing against her skin as he grinned. “The curiosity is killing me.”

She laughed loudly, kissing him again.

***

Yoongi walked behind the counter which separated the kitchen from the living room, giving the two women space to talk as Yu-jin removed her thick, woolen coat and handed it to Jeong-sun who passed Yoongi with a knowing look as she took it to the stand in the hall. It was seasonably warm outside and the sun shone brightly through the open windows inside the apartment, but if Yu-jin was too hot, she didn’t let on as she walked around the small space. 

“Yoongi bought you ginger ale.” Jeong-sun called out as she returned, prompting the young male to put down the mug he had distracted himself with and turn towards the cupboard. 

“Thank you.” Yu-jin walked towards him, her eyes fixed on his socked feet. Yoongi looked down and gave a small smile, realising why she was looking. The last and only time they had met, one of his shoelaces had come undone. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but Jeong-sun had later told him how the woman opposite had been transfixed on the fact. 

“Let me get you a glass.” He offered, standing on his tiptoes to reach the top shelf where he kept the clean vessels. Jeong-sun, realising her immediate suspicion that Yu-jin would be anxious to meet him was incorrect, joined them on the tiles as he poured the drink and placed it down on the counter. 

“How were your classes today?” Jeong-sun asked kindly, pushing her spectacles up on the bridge of her nose. 

Yu-jin hesitated, before picking up the full glass. “I taught two first years and one second year.”

“You teach Zoology?” Yoongi confirmed.

The other woman nodded, pulling at the long sleeve of her dress. “It’s the marine extinction unit.” She paused. “They wanted me to do dissection but I said no.”

“I’d say no too.” He smiled in agreement. 

The woman turned to look around the small apartment, her eyes moving over the neat cushions of the sofa and the sheepskin rug which had been recently vacuumed. “Have you got any pets?” She asked curiously. 

Yoongi shook his head. “No.”

“I have a hamster.” She told him. “I wanted a dog but I’m out all day, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Yoongi took her lead as she walked behind the counter and into the living space, being careful not to spill her drink as she set it down on the coffee table. 

“I have a dog back home.” He offered gently, enjoying her enthusiasm. 

Yu-jin nodded in approval. “People with dogs are happier.” She stated confidently. “I read a study once.”

His smile was shy, briefly flashing his teeth. “That’s what I told Jeong-sun.” He practically sensed the dramatic eye roll as the woman behind him piped up. 

“I’d be the one who ends up cleaning after it!”

“Jeong-sun doesn’t like dogs.” Yu-jin murmured somberly as she was joined on the sofa by the woman in question. 

“That’s not true.” Jeong-sun argued, a little pointlessly. “I just don’t want to vacuum twice a day.”

Yoongi looked around the space, belatedly realising he should have opted for another sofa when he bought the suite several years before. He settled for the stool behind the kitchen counter, pulling it out into the living room. “Hoseok and Nana have a dog now.” He paused, perching himself on the stool. “Do you know Nana?”

Yu-jin thought for a moment. “I got a Christmas card in the post.” She slowly said. “It was signed Hoseok and Nana.”

Yoongi nodded, understanding. “The dog’ll probably be on it next year.” He quipped, sensing it was true. While Nana had been cautious at first, as a pair they had taken to owning a dog like a fish to water. It seemed right that the elderly Greyhound should become part of their family. When Yu-jin didn’t respond, he pointed towards her glass. “Is that the right kind?” He asked.

She nodded, picking it up and taking a token sip. “It’s not too sweet. Some brands are too sweet.”

“Did you eat yet?” Jeong-sun asked, glancing at her boyfriend in a signal to bring the buffet over. 

“I had Kefir for lunch with thirty grams of red berries.” Yu-jin said confidently. 

“Sounds healthy.” Yoongi murmured, stooping to set the tray of sandwiches and dips on the coffee table between them. 

“You like olives don’t you?” Jeong-sun asked hopefully. 

The other woman blinked a few times. “Only the green kind.”

Yoongi nodded. “We got green.” He brought the remainder of the plates and dishes over, carefully arranging them in an ordered way that was pleasing to the eye before sitting back down. 

“Do you have a dress code?” Yu-jin asked suddenly, making him look up. 

“For what?” He asked.

“Jeong-sun says you are getting married next month.” 

Yoongi laughed softly as Jeong-sun reached for an olive, giving him a knowing glance. “If we can book a venue on a Saturday.” 

He shook his head easily, a small smile playing on his lips in realisation that she was finally agreeing on the date. “Not really.”

“I’ve got a dress.” Yu-jin said, looking from Yoongi to Jeong-sun. “It’s red with blue dots, is that okay?”

Jeong-sun nodded. “It’s fine.”

Reaching forward, Yoongi took a sandwich from the platter and picked at the crust. “Jeong-sun’s wearing white.” He looked at her, making her blush. In response, he unexpectedly felt his own cheeks redden and put the bread down behind him, twisting around to pick up his own glass of ginger ale, which he sipped slowly, distracting himself. 

Yu-jin blinked, turning to the woman beside her, a shocked expression on her face. “Really?” She asked loudly, turning back to Yoongi. “She’s not a virgin.”

Yoongi snorted into the glass, a small spray of liquid escaping his lips as he looked up in time to see Jeong-sun’s initially horrified expression soften to a bout of laughter. She quickly gathered herself, clutching her palm to her lips as the other woman continued talking; blissfully unaware of the social taboo she was breaking. 

“She told me at university.” Yu-jin nodded. “In Western traditions white is for virgin brides, do you know why?”

Yoongi bit his cheek desperately, trying to play it straight. “Queen Victoria.” He mumbled.  

Yu-jin blinked, not expecting his answer, but nodding after a moment. “Exactly!” She paused, turning to look at Jeong-sun whose shoulders were shaking. Yoongi was likewise in a state of hysterics, though he hid it slightly better. “I’m sorry if you didn’t know.” She apologied blankly before picking up an olive and popping it into her mouth.  

Yoongi shook his head, unable to help his grin. “It’s okay.”

“These olives are really nice.” Reaching forward, she grabbed another handful as Yoongi gestured towards the table. 

“Help yourself.” He dismissed. 

“Will Hoseok be at the wedding?” Yu-jin asked hopefully, mouth full. 

Yoongi smiled timidly. “I hope so.” He thought for a moment. “Did you want to bring a plus one?”

“I wouldn’t know who to ask.” She admitted after a moment, a little sadly. 

Jeong-sun moved closer on the sofa, bridging the space between them. “My mom will be there.” She smiled. “She’ll sit with you.”

“Has she looked at plane tickets?” Yoongi asked, finally calm enough to take a bite of the sandwich and swallow without trouble. 

Jeong-sun smirked. “She says she’ll look if we decide on a date.”

He nodded. “Tell her I’ll pay.”

Yu-jin looked up at him, eyes wide. “Do you make a lot of money?” She asked, a little cautiously. 

“I don’t do too bad.” He murmured modestly, a little embarrassed. 

The other woman didn’t seem to notice, though he sensed his girlfriend shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “I got a pay rise at work.” Yu-jin announced proudly. 

Jeong-sun smiled encouragingly. “That’s good, you didn’t tell me!”

“I bought a new mattress.” She nodded, clearly seeing this as an extravagance. “It molds to my body as I sleep.”

The dark-haired woman smirked, nodding across the room. “He needs one of those.”

Yu-jin turned to look at him. “Do you have a lumpy mattress?”

“No.” Jeong-sun mumbled. “He just tosses and turns all night.”

“You should drink hot malt before bed.” The other woman suggested, smoothing her hair with her palm. 

He nodded. “I’ll try that.”

Jeong-sun took the other woman’s hand affectionately. “You used to make me malt drinks when I was hungover. Do you remember?”

Yu-jin blinked. “How could I forget?” She murmured dryly, making Yoongi chuckle. 

“Was she hungover often?” He asked, casting his girlfriend a teasing look. 

She nodded. “Every weekend.”

Jeong-sun ignored Yoongi’s loud laughter at this admission, instead dismissing the comment weakly. “It wasn’t that often…”

“It was in second year!” Yu-jin exclaimed with a tut. “Angel was a bad influence.” She added as an afterthought.

Jeong-sun was quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before she asked..“Do you still speak to her?”

The other woman looked down. “No, you?”

“Not for a few years.” She admitted.

“Your liver will thank you.” Yu-jin commented soberly. 

“I don’t drink a lot these days.” She glanced at Yoongi, sensing his enjoyment at the conversation and finding out more about her; parts of her life he had not been there for. In truth, she didn’t mind. While Yu-jin’s admissions were a little unflattering towards her, there was nothing she was ashamed to admit to Yoongi. If they were to marry, it would be to her completely; not just the good. 

Yu-jin continued, unaware of Jeong-sun’s train of thought or the way she was looking at Yoongi, a little dreamily. “I went to a work party in China and drank this blue drink that tasted like bubblegum.”

“Was it nice?” Yoongi asked. 

“I was sick on the carpet.” She admitted. 

Jeong-sun’s eyebrows knitted together and she clutched her fingers to her lips. “Oh no!”

Yu-jin nodded seriously. “The hotel made me pay extra to get the stain out.” Her eyes locked with Yoongi. “If you’re going to drink...don’t drink something blue.” She advised cryptically. 

His features crumpled, shoulders shaking as he got to his feet. “Excuse me…” He murmured politely, trying his best to hold back the tears.

She turned to Jeong-sun and took in her pained expression as she too fought back laughter. Yoongi was heading out of the room, and Yu-jin suddenly feared she had taken it too far as she often did with new people; sometimes unable to read their expressions carefully enough to sense when to stop. “Are you squeamish?” She asked the male, eyes following him closely.

He shook his head reassuringly. “No, I just need the bathroom.”

Yu-jin settled down on the sofa, satisfied by his explanation. She reached for her glass of ginger ale and took a few greedy sips as the living room door closed behind him. Jeong-sun twisted her body to look at her friend. 

“He likes you.” She smiled, keeping her voice low. “He was looking forward to you coming around.” She admitted. 

Yu-jin nodded. “I remember him…” She said. “From the party.”

Jeong-sun was quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of the chain flushing from down the hall, followed by the low hiss of the tap. “What do you remember?” She eventually asked, a little dreamily. 

The woman’s eyebrows shifted beneath her sharply cut bangs, knitting together tightly, as though trying to piece together what she wanted to say. “You looked different.” She shrugged. “When you came out of the closet together.”

“Yeah…” Jeong-sun murmured quietly, almost to herself. “I felt different.”

The sound of the tap had stopped, replaced by the soft pitter of his footsteps in the hall. Yu-jin glanced at the door, anticipating his return. “Are you sure you want to marry him?” She asked with a frown.

Jeong-sun knew Yu-jin meant no harm from asking. The other woman had never shown interest in anyone beyond friendship, and even then it was often met with an air of suspicion until she got to know them. It was natural she was concerned for Jeong-sun; marriage to her, only known from TV or from her own, recently divorced parents, was something which equalled entrapment, or misery. 

“Yeah.” She nodded with a small, content smile, taking the other woman’s hand back in hers. “I’m sure.”

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

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