welcome to btswritingcafe! our cafe is open 24/7 for your enjoyment of all writings for each member of bts! [ cafe is permanently closed ] [ navigation ]
To our lovely members, followers, and anyone else who has landed upon this cafe.
On behalf of the network, the cafe admins wanted to announce our decision to close Btswritingcafe.
Of course, we understand that there will be assumptions as to why we have decided this. We want to make it clear of our reasons.
Over the course of the last 2 years there has been a gradual shift in activity with networks. Creating content in general has declined. This platform has made it increasingly difficult for anyone to post their own creations. For that reason, among many, there has been a struggle to keep networks thriving. We are not at all speaking on behalf of everyone else, but for ourselves and what we have noticed!
This is why we have decided to archive the cafe. We are so immensely thankful for the growth we have seen since we first opened. We have hosted numerous events and get to see such wonderful fics by our members. Thank you for supporting this network!
As of January 1st we will be archiving this network. We will not be deleting it but keeping the fics that have been reblogged available for everyone to read.
In the meantime, we will be functioning as normal. We will reblog all of the fics posted until December 31st.
Once again, thank you all for the support. We are so grateful for the experiences in this network. You are all amazing and we wish you the best!
anonymous requested: “I have another idea for a fic I hope that’s okay… it’s a post break up angst durabble based on the song nervous by gavin james with jungkook they share a friend group and they see each other again I’ll leave the pov up to you..”
summary: Jeongguk runs into his ex-girlfriend over the holidays.
genre: slight angst; fluff;
soundtrack: nervous—gavin james
content/warnings: exes to lovers; established relationship; nonidol!au; college!au; whipped!jk; shy!reader/ warning may make you die of cuteness
a/n: I know this request was supposed to be angsty but it ended up being fluffy I’m sorry! I needed a cute ending. hope I made it up to you by putting it in jk’s pov! also shout out to @mynovia for the winter fic encouragement kith kith ily ♡
word count: 1.9k
♪ I promise that I’ll hold you when it’s cold out. ♪
“You’re leaving already?”
Jeongguk caught you outside the front door. You’re shrugged on your coat, breathing out little puffs of it to the cold winter air.
You look over your shoulder at him, and even though it’s below 20 degrees, Jeongguk feels himself melting on the spot.
“Yeah,” you said, “I feel a bit tired. Think I should go home.”
Jeongguk doesn’t want to see you leave the party early. Because even though it’s been a year since you broke up and went your separate ways—Jeongguk was still in love with you.
It would all be easier if you just believed in fate; you could say meeting him was destiny and the odds of fate were just against your union. Too bad you don’t. Too bad it was Taehyung that wasn’t serious about your future. Too bad he won’t leave you alone even a year after your break-up. Too bad you want to kiss him when you have a date with someone else tonight. Too bad you’re still in love with him.
pairing: taehyung x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: angst | smut | fluff | exes to lovers!au | slice of life!au
word count: 15.5 k
— warnings: swearing + mentions of: alcohol, gambling, criminal associations + a lil emotional breakdown + some crying + some toxic behavior from their past + kim tae’s duality :] + explicit sexual situations (dom!tae, sub!reader, thigh riding, oral (f.&m.), vaginal fingering, hand kink, fingers kink? (yn is obsessed w his finger and want to swallows them 🧍♀️), size kink, breast play, cum play, creampie, marking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, choking, dirty talk, endless teasing, restraints, unprotected penetrative sex, spit kink (???), Monster Cock Tae™) + they’re both idiots if you squint :)
— note: so ash decided we shall all cry on tae’s birthday, everyone good with that? good. (: lmaO there’s way too much smut in this to make up for it, dw! :>
this fic started off for the ny22 fest i and @knjsnoona hosted last year, but i dropped the idea bec it wasn’t angsty enuff. this was at 5k tho, so i decided to finish it up for tae day instead of scrapping it <3 also, she might not even remember it, but the credits for naming this baby go to my precious soybean, @missgeniality thanks a bunch, honeybunch 🥺
hope you guys like this! pls leave me some feedback~💜
submission for the December Games hosted by House Taeros.
❂ Nightmare Before Christmas
⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee @inkedtae through @bangtansorciere
⤐ AU Type: Spiral Hills - Exes to Lovers
⤐ Themes: New Beginnings | Slice of Life
⤐ Kinks: Breath Play, Bondage, Hand Kink, Thigh Riding, Oral Fixation, Finger Sucking, Cum Play, Overstimulation
— masterlist | taglist | feedback?
It’s a Saturday night, this New Year’s eve – stepping into the new year with a lazy Sunday feels symbolic of the kind of year you’re gonna have, to be honest – which has caused traffic to be moving at a snail’s pace, tonight, because crowds of regular partygoers are combined with New Year’s partygoers and literally the entire city is on the streets. Which would suck a normal amount on a normal night when you returned from work, but it sucks especially bad tonight, because you’re in a hurry to get home.
You have to get ready for a date. Something you haven’t done in a really long while and are half afraid you’ve forgotten how to.
Synopsis: He was the nation’s bad boy and you were the nation’s innocence. Who knew you were secretly dating, and were quite intimate at that?
Pairing: idol Yoongi x idol reader
Genre/ au: smut, idolverse
Word count: 2,986
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Mostly smut, buff ginger Yoongi, swearing, reference to quarantine, reference to controlling label
Smut warnings: semi public sex, car sex, grinding, groping, ass slapping/ spanking, oral (m receiving), hair tugging, fingering, finger sucking, making out, begging, raw (wrap it before you tap it), vaginal sex, belly bulge, marking, nipple play, tit sucking, choking, creampie, big dick Yoongi, dom Yoongi, sub reader, corruption kink, slight praise kink, degradation kink (whore, slut, bitch)
warnings: namjoon overthinks things, slang/swearing, there is the mention of a threesome existing
word count: 2.8k
summary: It’s well past dark on a frigid December evening, and Kim Namjoon is over it. He’s been a good sport, he’s played along, and now he’s just… done. If he hadn’t been getting terrifying death-stares from Yoongi each time he even thinks about getting up from the café table, he would have already been long gone.
a/n: this short fic was written for @chemicalpink for the @bangtansecretsanta exchange. Hi Marinette, I'm your secret santa, Menorah! Have some fluff and my attempt at silly humor in a coffee shop. I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you have a lovely holiday season and a happy new year! thank you to jess, @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me, you are my one true love. And thanks to @ugh-yoongi and @hot-soop and Jess again for the brainstorming that produced this idea—I’m so lucky you all talk to me 💜 this is cross-posted to ao3 here if you prefer
It’s well past dark on a frigid December evening, and Kim Namjoon is over it. He’s been a good sport, he’s played along (even though he’s known all along that this hare-brained plan wasn’t going to work), and now he’s just… done. If he hadn’t been getting terrifying death-stares from Yoongi each time he even thinks about getting up from the café table, he would have already been long gone.
One more date, he tells himself. Just one more of these ridiculous speed dates, and he’ll be free. He can go back to being sort-of-miserable and a little lonely, but instead of putting up with those feelings in the middle of this café, he can wallow in them in the comfort of his own home.
Hoseok and Yoongi mean well, he knows that. The execution has been a little lacking, is all. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that. Of course, no one wants to watch one of their closest friends struggle, and Namjoon has definitely been struggling the past few months. Actually, scratch that. He was fine until the last couple of weeks when all the cutesy, coupley Christmas stuff started appearing everywhere. He was supposed to be in a couple—every advertisement with people kissing turned into a superimposition in his mind: himself and Minsoo replacing the print models.
Kim Minsoo, ex-boyfriend, giant asshole, and the person Namjoon was supposed to be moving on from. And, for the most part, he had. He didn’t really miss Minsoo; didn’t miss his condescending tone, the way he wanted Namjoon to dress a certain way or hang out with certain people or enjoy certain things. Ultimately, Minsoo wanted a clone, not a boyfriend, and Namjoon had enough self-worth to walk away when Minsoo suggested Namjoon forego his own birthday celebration to go to some pretentious work function that didn’t sound fun, interesting, or important enough to Namjoon.
So, here he is, approaching Christmas single, which is objectively fine. Namjoon can be a bit of a misanthrope anyway, so even if he weren’t single, he’d probably still find a way to be a little sad. It’s not like there aren’t wars and global warming and the general understanding that we can’t ever escape the existential dilemma to be moody about even if and when you’re getting good dick regularly.
But his best friends and former college roommates, Yoongi and Hoseok, think he needs to “get under someone new to get over Minsoo.” They’ve gone so far as to make it into a chant that they ungraciously repeat to him in English over the phone almost daily. It’s his own fault for teaching them the phrase, but in his defense, he was trying to tell them he didn’t need to “get under someone new.”
Their unwavering belief in the healing power of cock has brought him here, to Slice of Heaven (Heaven for short), the small café they own in Hongdae, where he has sat through three “speed dates,” and has one more remaining. He’s consumed more chocolate cake than anyone should be allowed to, but Hobi’s devil’s food is really beyond reproach (even if Namjoon sort of thinks a café with a theme is cheesy)—it can’t be helped if he thought each of his dates should at least try it. It’s just that now he’s full and a little antsy from his sugar high, and tired of unsuccessful dates.
Their original plan was to send him to some massive world record-breaking speed dating event that happens every year around this time, but Namjoon had been able to shoot that idea down fairly quickly. Sure, he’s an extrovert, but there’s a zero percent chance of him sitting through something like that without wanting to sink into the floor. So, here he sits, awaiting his fourth suitor, who absolutely won’t be the man of his dreams (because he’s decided that soulmates probably don’t exist anyway, and monogamy is a construct, and even if you had one person, how would you even find them and what if they didn’t speak Korean… his English isn’t that good and neither is his Japanese even if he’s willing to study more), someone who Hoseok knows through the dance classes he takes.
At least he likes hanging out in their shop usually; it’s a good place to work and study, steadily busy but never too loud. And the first three dates had been handsome (if not otherwise bad fits for him), and from what Namjoon’s seen of Hobi’s dance friends, bachelor number four has high odds of being nice to look at, too.
Date number one was sort of a warm-up, Yoongi claims. Namjoon had laughed when Jin walked in and plopped into the chair across from him.
“You’re sitting in my date’s chair, you know?” he asked his hyung.
“Yah, I know, Joon-ah. I got the looks and the brains.” He leans forward conspiratorially. “Don’t tell my brother.”
“Well, you should move. He’s going to be here any minute. And according to Yoongi, he’s a real catch.”
Jin’s loud, bright laughter fills the shop. “Yoongi, did you make a fishing pun about me?” he calls over his shoulder in Yoongi’s general direction.
“About… you?” Namjoon is thoroughly confused, because there’s no way that his hyung, his friend, Seokjin is his first date. They’d even already tried dating once in college before Jin decided that Namjoon was never going to wake up early enough or be optimistic enough to be anything more than a good friend.
Jin bows in his seat dramatically. “Your knight in shining armor.”
Namjoon thunks his forehead against the table. “You’ve got to be joking,” he whines.
“Lighten up, Namjoon-ah. What if we have chemistry?” He curls his crooked fingers into air quotes around the word chemistry.
“Our chemistry is like the hydrogenation of succinonitrile…”
“Use words,” Jin says impatiently.
“It’s how you make putrescine… it smells bad?” Jin’s just staring at him with his mouth open, giving him the ‘I’m about to roll my eyes so hard you’re going to regret you’ve ever said any words to me in your life’ look. “Nevermind,” he tacks on.
“Already forgot what you said, since it wasn’t actually words,” Jin replies.
“Go home, hyung.”
Seokjin crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You’re turning down all this?” He asks as he looks down at his own torso.
“Yes. One-hundred percent, absolutely turning you down. Go home.”
“Fine.” He sighs before looking at Yoongi over his own shoulder again. “Mission accomplished.”
“What mission?” Namjoon asks.
“They maybe thought that if I was your first date, the other three would look better after. Which is definitely a you problem, Namjoon-ah. Anyone else would jump at a chance with me. Just so we’re clear.”
Namjoon stifles a laugh behind the arm of his sweater. “We’re clear, hyung. Anyone but me would be lucky to date you.”
And with that, “date number one” ends as Jin gets up, and Namjoon watches Yoongi and him bicker over the counter about what takeout to get for dinner.
The Seokjin part of the plan worked at least a little bit, because when bachelor number two shows up, and he’s not one of Namjoon’s friends or exes, it’s a pleasant surprise.
Jeon Jungkook is bright, kind, and objectively beautiful. Namjoon likes him immediately.
He’s a regular at the café—he works as a graphic artist and likes to sit in the corner and work on freelance projects. Namjoon knows he’s seen those big, bright eyes before. He tells Namjoon that he was thoroughly confused when Hoseok had asked him about going on a date with Namjoon.
“He walked right up to me while I was on the phone with a client, and he asked if I was free on Friday night.”
“And he didn’t tell you for what?”
Jungkook blushes. “No! And I’ve barely even spoken to him before. I just see him and Yoongi-ssi making out behind the counter when they think no one’s watching.”
Namjoon would have been surprised that Jungkook’s even sitting here across from him after being propositioned by a stranger, but he remembers how convincing Hoseok can be when he wants something. “But you came anyway…” he says.
“Well, yeah. At first, I thought he and Yoongi had broken up or something,” he says shyly. “And, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to get involved in something like that. I see them together like… every day.”
Namjoon nods.
“But then he told me about you, and… this is embarrassing…”
“More embarrassing than having your friends set you up on blind dates because they think you’re too lonely for Christmas?”
Jungkook purses his lips. “Actually, no.”
And Namjoon laughs so hard he almost shoots americano out of his nose. “Fair,” he says when he catches his breath. “So, what’s embarrassing?”
“ThoughtyouhadnicethighswhenIsawyourpicture.” Jungkook’s words come out fast and strung together, and he blows out a long huff of air when he’s finished.
“Oh,” Namjoon says, sheepish. “Thanks.”
“Told you it was embarrassing.”
“It’s really not,” he replies. “I’m flattered.”
Jungkook gives him a bright smile in return, finally looking up from his lap where his eyes had been fixed almost since he sat down. They talk about their lives a little more, conversation eventually landing on the subject of their dogs, and Namjoon knows it might not work out between them when he says, “Honestly, I spend more time mad at Moni than not.”
His date looks absolutely appalled, and Namjoon doesn’t even get a chance to explain before Hoseok is standing next to the table asking if they had a nice time. Jungkook says he did, but excuses himself quickly and doesn’t bother to get Namjoon’s number or leave his.
“I’m failing, Hobi,” Namjoon laments.
“Don’t worry, two more to go!” Hobi says, patting Namjoon enthusiastically on the shoulder.
The third date isn’t much better, because Taehyung definitely thinks he’s there to date Hobi, not Namjoon. Actually, he seems to think he’s there to date Hobi and Yoongi. And they don’t seem to have a problem with that, either.
He’s watching some strange flirting take place between the three of them, and Namjoon is pretty sure he could manage to escape before the fourth date without Yoongi and Hoseok noticing. They’re completely distracted by Taehyung.
So, it’s totally understandable (he thinks, anyway) that he’s over this speed dating thing. One was his ex, one basically thinks he’s an animal abuser, and one looks to be gunning for a threesome with his best friends. Three strikes and you’re out, right? He’d feel a little guilty about bachelor number four, but not enough for him to stick around.
He’s weighing his options, deciding how he can slip out undetected, when the tinkling of the bell above the entrance pulls Namjoon’s attention just in time for him to witness an angel walking in.
This isn’t an exaggeration.
Making his way into the café is maybe the most gorgeous human Namjoon has seen in his entire life, and he’s got honest to god angel wings on. He knows he’s in trouble when he hears himself actually whimper. He knows he’s really in trouble when the angel whips his head around toward Namjoon because apparently he had also heard the pathetic noise.
The smile he gives Namjoon, though, is worth all the embarrassment in the world. It’s almost a smirk, and under some circumstances it would look borderline predatory, but even if it were, Namjoon thinks he’d be okay being this guy’s prey. One side of his (very plump) lips quirks up and his cheeks become infinitely pinchable and his eyes somehow narrow and darken and sparkle all at the same time. Namjoon’s having a really hard time looking away, and he’s sure it’s creepy at this point, but the half-angel, half (very good looking) man is looking right back at him, so maybe it’s okay to stare. Just this once.
It’s not clear to him how it happens, but soon the angel is standing over him, although it occurs to him that Namjoon is seated and the angel is standing and he’s still not exactly being towered over or anything. So pretty and small, is all that Namjoon can think.
“Are you Namjoon?” the angel says in his equally angelic voice.
“Are you an angel?”
He laughs, loud and bright, before trying to maneuver himself (wings and all) into the chair across from Namjoon. “No,” he says, “and it didn’t hurt when I fell, either.”
“Huh?” Namjoon is sure that somewhere in his brain are complete sentences and polysyllabic words, but they simply don’t seem to be accessible right now.
The angel puts his elbows on the small table and rests his chin in his hands. He watches Namjoon with something that looks like curiosity, and the smirk he’s been sporting never really leaves his face. “It didn’t hurt when I fell from heaven,” he says, shaking his wings playfully.
“Oh… That’s good…”
“‘I’m Jimin. Park Jimin, your date. I think you’ve been waiting for me?”
Namjoon is so happy he didn’t have time to sneak out of the café. “For my whole life,” he mutters, face flushed. He doesn’t think Jimin hears him, but luck has never really been on his side.
“Cute,” Jimin whispers back.
This is a rough first impression, he’s sure. Of course Hoseok’s friend isn’t just pretty, he’s literally perfect. Namjoon isn’t sure what he did in life to deserve sitting across a table from Park Jimin, but he knows he needs to get his shit together yesterday if he doesn’t want to waste his shot.
He clears his throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. Can I get you something to drink? Cake? The devil’s food is really something.”
Jimin grins again, somehow even more brightly, and Namjoon decides speed dating isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He reminds himself to thank Hoseok profusely later. “You think someone in my condition should be seen eating devil’s food cake?” Jimin shakes his wings for the second time, and Namjoon can’t help but laugh.
Turns out, Park Jimin claims he isn’t actually an angel (although Namjoon thinks he’s still not convinced of that), but a ballet dancer who’s featured in the winter season’s big show for his company in a role that requires him to wear wings. He’d been wearing a different pair around to help his body get used to moving in them, and apparently it worked, because he claims he didn’t even realize he still had them on until Namjoon asked if he was an angel.
In the thirty minutes they’re together, Namjoon learns a few things. Jimin absolutely glows when he talks about dancing, he’s a really good listener (putting up with Namjoon’s unfortunate introductory rant about monogamy and gender roles and actually seeming interested), and most of all, he’s kind—getting up to open the door for an older man with a walker, and quietly wishing him a good night.
Namjoon is enamored.
“Time’s up,” he hears Yoongi say from behind the counter.
“No,” Namjoon says, almost reflexively. He likes Jimin too much already and the time has flown by. The objection earns him another almost-smirk from Jimin. ”I mean… if you aren’t busy or something… we could keep talking… if you wanted…”
Jimin’s smile turns a little shy and he nods. Namjoon thinks it's cute. “I’d like that.”
“Cool,” Namjoon says, a response definitely reflective of his high iq and general put-togetherness.
“Very cool, hyung,” Jimin agrees. “You wanna get out of here? Hotteok?”
Namjoon gives an enthusiastic nod. He’s suddenly hungry again now that it means spending more time with Jimin. “It’s my favorite.”
“Something sweet for someone sweet,” Jimin says as he stands. Namjoon positively beams. People call him a lot of things: smart, interesting, tall… not every often does he hear the word “sweet” ascribed to him. He suspects he could get used to it.
He knows he’s just smiling blankly at Jimin, lost in his own thoughts, in how downright pretty Jimin is, in the way Jimin seems to be just as into staring back at him. Then he hears a chorus of groans coming from the general area of the coffee shop counter. Hoseok, Yoongi, Seokjin, and even Taehuyng who he doesn’t know are all watching him and Jimin gather their things to leave.
“What?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer him, just turns to Hoseok and says, “We’ve made a mistake.”
Hoseok and Jin nod. “He’s even worse when he likes someone,” Jin says.
“Hey!” Namjoon protests. It’s weak though. They’re not wrong. He tends to get infatuated quickly. “Sorry,” he says to Jimin. “They’re the worst.”
Jimin just grabs his hand and threads their fingers together like they’ve been at this for ages. “They’re just jealous,” he says, loud enough for them to hear.
“Yeah?”
“Of course, hyung,” Jimin says as he tugs Namjoon toward the exit and looks up at the name of the bakery in glittery golden letters on the door. “We’re literally a match made in Heaven!”
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬/𝐚𝐮𝐬: angst, fluff | best friend's brother!au
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mention of absentee parents, mild language, kissing
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is just a little thing I had stuck in my head after reading my wonderful Secret Santa gift — Feelings and Snowflakes — by the equally wonderful @sun-kore. This is a backstory/flashback scene from her fic but technically can be read standalone. But you absolutely should go and read Feelings and Snowflakes also! Do it! Now! It's a dare. She has graciously given me permission to do this, no worries.
Thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic for looking over this for me!
Enjoy!
"Hey."
The sudden, unmistakable voice behind you makes you jump and gasp simultaneously.
Damn Min Yoongi, always sneaking up on you.
It seems like one of his favorite things to do given how it happens almost daily. You can't count on both your hands the number of times he's scared the hell out of you during the almost life-long friendship you have had with his twin sister, Naomi.
You're going to miss it…and him.
"I swear I'm going to add a little bell to these," you huff in feigned annoyance, flicking the two rings looped through holes in Yoongi's signature baseball cap with your fingers.
That earns you your favorite gummy smile and chuckle, making you grin in return.
"Are you cold?" he asks, unzipping and sliding off his hoodie before draping it over your bare shoulders.
The spaghetti strap top and jeans were fine earlier in the day when you were moving about underneath the long-sleeved graduation gown. Now, in the evening, sans the gown, you realize you are actually a little bit chilly.
"Thanks…" you shyly respond while shoving your arms into the warm sleeves.
Oh no… Why does it smell so good?!
You are harkened back into your not-so-distant memories of staying over and having to pass Yoongi's open door to get to the bathroom.
You have to fight the urge to bury your nose into the fabric.
"Naomi send you?"
"Yep. She's setting up for the party now," Yoongi replies, scratching the back of his neck. "You been up here this whole time? The ceremony ended like two hours ago…"
Huh…you must have lost track of time even with the sun setting right in front of you.
Well, it at least explains his wardrobe change. Yoongi now sports his usual black hoodie and ripped up jeans instead of the dress pants and shirt he wore for graduation.
You sigh sadly after taking his side profile in and turn your gaze back to the horizon. This is your favorite spot to get away — a hill behind your school, well…alma mater now — that overlooks your entire small town.
The grip on the graduation cap in your first gets tighter.
"So they didn't show, huh?"
"Of course not," you huff out in real annoyance this time. "I don't know why I got my hopes up…"
After the ceremony, you had scoured the entire auditorium after noticing the two inexplicably but unsurprisingly empty seats, passing every single one of your classmates — including Naomi and Yoongi — receiving hugs from their families and taking selfies.
Your parents were nowhere to be found.
"Probably happily taking over a company while their only kid is about to start a new chapter," you laugh bitterly at the end. "No big deal, right?"
"That's shitty…I'm sorry…"
A warm palm plants itself on your shoulder as the sun finally slips over the edge of the horizon and you lazily toss your cap up into the air.
"Let's go…" you sniffle and turn around after swiping the moisture from under your eyes. "Before Naomi sends out a search party or something."
As you step past your best friend's brother, you're softly pulled back and around by a warm hand gripping your wrist. You somehow manage to regain your footing before you collide into Yoongi's chest.
"Hey," he says in almost a whisper, using the hand not around your wrist to cup your chin and tilt your head up to him. "Screw them. Don't cry. Come celebrate with us."
Yoongi lets go of your wrist and wipes away a stray tear on your cheek that you apparently had missed. His fingers blaze a trail across your skin which further scrambles your thoughts and his dark, almond eyes staring into yours blanks your mind completely.
If only you could lean in just a little…
No, you can't.
"What did you think I was gonna do?" you laugh nervously and pull away, immediately missing the warmth of his closeness. "I mean, your parents have all but legally adopted me anyway. Of course I'm going to my sister's grad party!"
"So…you consider me your brother then?" Yoongi asks, lifting an eyebrow and his eyes gleaming with…something you don't have time to put a finger on.
"No!" you shout back immediately, too eager to deny that idea.
Dammit! What are you doing?! That was too fast! Too loud!
You have managed to go this long hiding your feelings for him and you potentially just screwed up the whole thing!
Yoongi seems to ponder this response for a moment and you're praying to whatever gods will listen that he just continues on obliviously.
What good would it do now, confessing? In a couple short months, you'll be gone…
Even if you weren't leaving for the big city, Naomi would lose her mind. Her best friend and her twin brother? No way she'd be okay with that.
"Good."
Did he just say something? It was said so softly, it could have just been a breeze passing your ears.
"Huh?"
"I said ‘Good’."
"Oh, gotcha…"
You nod in understanding.
...Wait, no, that made no sense. Especially since Yoongi was now working his way back to you instead of down the side of the hill like you thought he would. You voice your confusion.
"Because if you did, I wouldn't be able to do this."
Whatever new question that was going to rise in you was cut off by Yoongi's hands grasping the sides of your face and his soft lips crashing onto yours.
The lone butterfly that flutters around in your stomach every time you're around him explodes into an entire swarm. Time loses all meaning as it takes a lifetime and also no time at all for you to grasp the situation. Your eyes close as you wrap your arms around Yoongi's neck, pulling him down, closer and deepening the kiss.
The fact that it all feels so…natural is starting to scare you, however. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness… It is like this is how it's always been and always will be.
Is this really happening right now? Did you fall asleep or something?
As much as your heart doesn't want to, your brain and lungs are screaming at you so you reluctantly pull away. You rest your forehead against Yoongi's while you both breathe in some much-needed oxygen.
"I've wanted to do that for so long…You have no idea."
"Really?"
If your cheeks could be any redder, you probably look like a tomato after that confession. However, reality is cruel mistress and has the stupid grin on your face fading away in an instant at the thought of the future and the awaiting woman in the neighborhood just down the hill.
"You okay?" he asks, his fingers still on your face, and he brushes your cheeks gently.
"We shouldn't do this…"
"Why not?"
You pull out of his grasp completely and immediately regret it when a chilly breeze cuts through the fading warmth.
"Because I'm leaving, Yoongi… In a couple months, I'll be gone. And…and Naomi—"
"Hey," he approaches you again and takes your face in his hands once more, forcing you to look into his eyes. "We'll figure it out when that time comes…And Naomi will get over it."
His voice is full of such confidence, your weary brain and hopeful heart gives into it easily. You nod and a gummy smile spreads across Yoongi's lips before they meet yours again in a quick, soft peck.
"Whoa, look," he points up to the now star-filled sky. "Meteor shower."
You follow his finger to see several specks of white streak across the darkness. Yoongi slips his arm around shoulders and you rest your head on his chest.
"Wow…beautiful, isn't it?"
"Mmm," is all he mutters before he whispers, "Make a wish, beautiful."
"Hmmm…" you tap your chin thoughtfully before wishing for safe travels to the big city and a wonderful summer with Yoongi. "Oh, there's another one! Go ahead."
Yoongi puffs out an air of amusement against your hair.
"Nah, don't need to."
Before your lips can meet again, you hear voices from the trees that run down the sides of the hill. As they get closer and more clear, one's owner stands above the rest.
"Min Yoongi! Where the hell are you?! And you better have found her!"
Naomi really did start a search party…
Your eyes widen but before you can put a safe distance between you and Yoongi, he steals one last kiss and steps away just as his sister's head pokes up over the peak.
Yoongi shoots you a wink before turning around and making his way down the hill.
"Yep! Got her!"
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ahhhh! Why am I such a sucker for best friend's brother/brother's best friend Yoongi? Never gets old. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Feedback and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated. Don't forget to go give Summer @sun-kore some love for all the inspiration! 💚
in honor of taehyung’s birthday we have put together some of the fics of our members for you to enjoy right in one masterlist. happy reading and happy birthday to kim taehyung.
please note. we only compiled a few fics as the quantity that has been reblogged on this network for taehyung is too much to include in one post. with that being said, do not hesitate to look through our tags by searching for m;taehyung.
You meant to deal with this alone, it’s what you’re used to. But Taehyung won’t let you feel bad about it.
innocent (until proven guilty) | ♛ ❦ ⊕
— @augustbutwinter
so let’s be sinners to be saints, and let’s be winners by mistake / our hearts are too ruthless to break, let’s start fires for heaven’s sake.
if i can’t have you | ❀ ♛ ❦ ✎
— @namjooningelsewhere
Loving Taehyung is easy. It's easy to get lost in his adorable smile, his glimmering eyes, his saccharine words and everything that is him, Thats what your best friend told you the ten years she had been dating him. But your life turns upside down when your best friend abandons her love and your chldhood friend at the altar and out of extra ordinary circumstances instead of Sohee its you whos staring at the same pair of glimmering eyes, wearing the white gown meant for her and feeling the weight of an expensive ring on your fingers and before you know it, you say 'I do'.
swoon | ❀ ✓
— @sunshinerainbowsbts
“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
compound eyes | ❀ ✓
— @cinnaminsvga
After being declared the newest champion of the Hoenn region, it doesn’t take long until you are whisked away to participate in the annual Pokémon World Tournament and represent your hometown. Filled with the excitement of meeting strong trainers from all over the world, you don’t realize until it’s too late that a familiar face floats above the sea of participants. It’s none other than the newest Johto champion—who also happens to be your long-lost childhood rival.
freefall | ❀ ❦ ✓
— @jtrbluv
hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole. or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?
Thank you to all of our amazing members for writing these fics!
To our lovely members, followers, and anyone else who has landed upon this cafe.
On behalf of the network, the cafe admins wanted to announce our decision to close Btswritingcafe.
Of course, we understand that there will be assumptions as to why we have decided this. We want to make it clear of our reasons.
Over the course of the last 2 years there has been a gradual shift in activity with networks. Creating content in general has declined. This platform has made it increasingly difficult for anyone to post their own creations. For that reason, among many, there has been a struggle to keep networks thriving. We are not at all speaking on behalf of everyone else, but for ourselves and what we have noticed!
This is why we have decided to archive the cafe. We are so immensely thankful for the growth we have seen since we first opened. We have hosted numerous events and get to see such wonderful fics by our members. Thank you for supporting this network!
As of January 1st we will be archiving this network. We will not be deleting it but keeping the fics that have been reblogged available for everyone to read.
In the meantime, we will be functioning as normal. We will reblog all of the fics posted until December 31st.
Once again, thank you all for the support. We are so grateful for the experiences in this network. You are all amazing and we wish you the best!
Genre: holiday, fluff-ish (not smut), enemies to lovers, Spies!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: use of weapons - guns, fighting (hand-to-hand combat), swearing, kissing, breaking and entering, theft, Namjoon's kind of a bruiser for a spy, can't write him without mentioning The Dimples™️
Word Count: 1K
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: During a mission, you get caught in an embrace with your sworn enemy
A/N: Wanted to do an E2L for Namjoon, decided to turn him into a spy. Why not? His look is inspired by his black turtleneck fit at the W Korea "Love Your W" party.
Taking a little break from the smut on this one, but there's still plenty of action. Still marking it NSFW due to the gunfire/fighting.
Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕
Day 8 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 10
The window opens easily. With the alarm system disabled, the only sound that greets you is the soft tinkling of the bells hanging on the Christmas tree when the winter wind blows past you into the mansion. Carefully, you release the rope locked into the harness slung around your waist, and slip inside.
The Christmas tree takes up half the space in the room you’ve entered. Even for a man as rich as your target, it’s excessive. Gaudy. Decorated with expensive baubles bigger than your head. Like the silver ball hanging from a bough over your head. It’s shiny enough that you see yourself reflected in it.
Just as you also see the man silently creeping towards you.
In the blink of an eye, you twirl, leg rising in a roundhouse kick. But the man is ready for your attack, catching you by the ankle. He quickly spins your leg, and the change in momentum sends you revolving into his arms, back pressed to his chest.
“Are you trying to get caught?” he hisses. That voice. Of course it’s him. “You almost knocked over the damn tree!”
“Please,” you snarl, trying to free yourself from his iron grip, “there’s no way I can knock that sequoia over! That thing’s bigger than a car!” Giving up, you twist to glare at your captor.
His hair is long now, as black as the gear he wears, and the scar running from the corner of his right eye to his ear is new, but it’s him. Namjoon smirks, one dimple popping on his cheek as the corner of his lips lifts. Of all the weapons your enemy wields, those tiny little indentations are the deadliest.
“I’m sure if anyone could find a way to take that hulk down, it’d be you,” he tells you, still not letting go.
“True,” you grin, “look how many times I’ve taken you down!” On that last word, you bring your heel down as sharply as you can. As expected, this makes Namjoon drop his head in pain, and you meet his forehead with yours. The head butt sends him reeling, so you run for it.
The device you’re here to steal from your target is desired by every major power in the world. You’ll be damned if anyone else gets their hands on it.
Especially him.
For as long as you’ve been in this game, Namjoon’s been the shadow at your side, flanking your every move. It’s almost uncanny how he always manages to turn up wherever you are. It’d be flattering if it weren’t so damn annoying. Especially the times when he’s one step ahead.
He catches up before you reach the end of the absurdly long hallway, just a door away from where you know the device is resting. His hand clamps down on your shoulder, so you duck and spin beneath his arm, punching as you whirl. Namjoon staggers back.
“Shit, when did you learn to punch?” he groans, rubbing his jaw.
“Fuck off,” you sneer, aiming a knife hand strike at his stupidly thick neck. He blocks it, and counters with a ridgehand. For several minutes, the two of you dance your usual ballet, throwing blow after blow, gasping when a hit lands, both trying hard to be as quiet as possible. It’s futile, the air filling with your grunts and pants as you finally deliver a jab that leaves him breathless, struggling to fill his lungs while you reach for the doorknob.
But he’s only momentarily down, not totally out, and you’re knocked aside when Namjoon hip-checks you out of the way. Before you can utter any of the curse words brewing on your tongue, the door opens.
From the inside.
The man smiling in the doorway is as burly as Namjoon, but it’s the gun in his hand that makes you worry. Your target must’ve hired extra security to protect his device. Quickly, you dive inside the room as Namjoon throws his entire massive body forward, tackling the man. The goon drops the gun and you grab it, whipping it around to whack the back of the man’s head with the handle. He goes down like a bag of bricks.
Namjoon pokes the goon with his foot to make sure he’s out. Then he looks at you.
You both lunge for the device.
Namjoon is slightly closer, so his fingers curl around it, and then you’re both running down the hallway again. But you’re not the only one chasing him, there are goons crawling out of the extravagant woodwork now, and you sprint faster, trying to stay ahead of the bullets.
As you reach the doorway of the room with the tree, you swing the door shut and lock it. It won’t stop them for long. But before you can find something heavy to block the door, Namjoon grabs your arm, yanks you towards the corner, by the window where you entered. Before you can protest, his mouth is on yours, hot and eager. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, not enough to pierce but enough to make you moan, and his tongue licks away the sting.
When you part, feeling dazed, he glances up, and you follow his gaze. Mistletoe.
Honestly, the sheer damn nerve of this man.
He laughs as you gawk at him, stupefied, smiling even when splintered bits of door fly past your faces, blown into pieces by the goons’ guns.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, one hand cupping your face as he kisses you again, the other roaming around your waist, and he grins again, dimples in full effect -
before pushing you out the window.
You scream. Then the rope catches, breaking your fall. He must have clipped you in while he was kissing you.
Always one step ahead.
As you catch your breath, Namjoon suddenly vaults through another window, rope around his waist. He spots you dangling, and raises a hand. You nod back.
Like twin shadows, you both rappel, and vanish into the night.
in honor of taehyung’s birthday we have put together some of the fics of our members for you to enjoy right in one masterlist. happy reading and happy birthday to kim taehyung.
please note. we only compiled a few fics as the quantity that has been reblogged on this network for taehyung is too much to include in one post. with that being said, do not hesitate to look through our tags by searching for m;taehyung.
You meant to deal with this alone, it’s what you’re used to. But Taehyung won’t let you feel bad about it.
innocent (until proven guilty) | ♛ ❦ ⊕
— @augustbutwinter
so let’s be sinners to be saints, and let’s be winners by mistake / our hearts are too ruthless to break, let’s start fires for heaven’s sake.
if i can’t have you | ❀ ♛ ❦ ✎
— @namjooningelsewhere
Loving Taehyung is easy. It's easy to get lost in his adorable smile, his glimmering eyes, his saccharine words and everything that is him, Thats what your best friend told you the ten years she had been dating him. But your life turns upside down when your best friend abandons her love and your chldhood friend at the altar and out of extra ordinary circumstances instead of Sohee its you whos staring at the same pair of glimmering eyes, wearing the white gown meant for her and feeling the weight of an expensive ring on your fingers and before you know it, you say 'I do'.
swoon | ❀ ✓
— @sunshinerainbowsbts
“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
compound eyes | ❀ ✓
— @cinnaminsvga
After being declared the newest champion of the Hoenn region, it doesn’t take long until you are whisked away to participate in the annual Pokémon World Tournament and represent your hometown. Filled with the excitement of meeting strong trainers from all over the world, you don’t realize until it’s too late that a familiar face floats above the sea of participants. It’s none other than the newest Johto champion—who also happens to be your long-lost childhood rival.
freefall | ❀ ❦ ✓
— @jtrbluv
hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole. or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?
Thank you to all of our amazing members for writing these fics!
Author: vyduan
Pairing: Kim Seokjin | Reader
Genre: soulmate touch AU, slow burn, strangers to lovers, smut, idol au, angst
Word Count: ~6.4k
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Warnings: swearing, the giving and discussion of alcohol, light and non-explicit descriptions of consensual m/f sex, discussions of race, racism, and anti-Blackness, once again: too many The Princess Bride references.
Summary: Seokjin’s life really had not changed at all. Well, other than that nasty business with all the paperwork and extra doctor’s visits and the constant glove wearing to cover his bruise on his non-dominant hand (which was weird in summer but oh, well — fashion). But overall, his life proceeded as normal.
After all, it wasn’t as if he was uprooting his entire life to accommodate a superstar and their grueling travel and performance itinerary. He was the superstar in this equation and though he wasn’t exactly unappreciative of your efforts, it didn’t really hit his radar at all except on a theoretical level, and Kim Seokjin really tried to avoid thinking on any level — let alone theoretical — and so he did not think of you much at all except when the managers gave their perfunctory updates on scheduling, housing, and other such details that went in one ear and out the other.
Notes: I swear I plan on moving this fic forward. LOLSOB. But um, it does say slow burn in the tags, right? HERE WE GO, NOT EVEN A SMOLDER YET.
Also, many thanks to @bangtanbeforebitches and her sensitivity reading and allowing me to bounce off ideas with her. THANK YOUUUUU!!
Soul on Fire Masterlist [IN PROGRESS]: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | AO3
For more of my fics, here is my Masterlist.
~~~~
Chapter 4.
Seokjin’s life really had not changed at all. Well, other than that nasty business with all the paperwork and extra doctor’s visits and the constant glove wearing to cover his bruise on his non-dominant hand (which was weird in summer but oh, well — fashion). But overall, his life proceeded as normal.
After all, it wasn’t as if he was uprooting his entire life to accommodate a superstar and their grueling travel and performance itinerary. He was the superstar in this equation and though he wasn’t exactly unappreciative of your efforts, it didn’t really hit his radar at all except on a theoretical level, and Kim Seokjin really tried to avoid thinking on any level — let alone theoretical — and so he did not think of you much at all except when the managers gave their perfunctory updates on scheduling, housing, and other such details that went in one ear and out the other.
Seokjin went about his dance rehearsals, his fittings, his photo sessions, filming his concert videos, and his recordings of additional backing tracks for their live performances. He dropped in to see his parents (but most especially, his mother) and checked on his nephew and niece (and he supposed, his older brother and sister-in-law). He spent as much free time with Chae-Yeong as he could, listening about her day, making love in their big bed, and watching Netflix together as he savored quality Korean soju. He even contacted Yoongi’s favorite jeweler about an engagement ring! He tried to squeeze in some MapleStory gaming, too, but of all things that had to give, it was often the MapleStorying.
This is my gift for Rory ( @jeongguka ). Hello, it is I, your Gingerbread! Hope I managed to make this fic yours enough ♡
(This one shot was written for the @bangtansecretsanta exchange)
PS: You'll find the moodboard at the end of the story
Summary: “After your flight got cancelled due to critical weather conditions, you're stuck spending the festivities on your own and away from your family. That is, until someone comes knocking on your door in the middle of a blizzard.”
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff, a smidge of Angst
Rating: G
Warnings: swear words, mentions of food, missing ones family, bickering, a small food fight, brief mention of a one night stand, feelings of inferiority, maybe a kiss?, the author lost control of the whole thing as soon as Jungkook was introduced, it's mainly all dialogue as usual
Word count: 4.6k
The blizzard is raging outside, howling like a wounded feral beast and banging with its icy claws on the big panel window of the living room, furious it can't get in.
Sitting cross-legged on the worn out carpet the previous owner left behind – a tasteless, ridiculous-looking blob of lime green and neon orange that clashes with the clean lines and neutral colours of the room – you better adjust yourself against the foot of the small couch and start to peel your second tangerine.
Technically speaking, they are your roommate's, but, also technically speaking, he flew back to Daegu for the festivities and won't be back until the middle of January, ergo, it is now your duty to finish them before they start to decompose in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. Yoongi would understand.
With a whine, Bam rests his long snout on one of your knees and looks up at you with liquid, black eyes.
«What? Are you scared of the blizzard? – The big puppy blows through his pointy nose and tries to further hide against your leg. With a sigh, you softly scratch behind his dropping ears. – It's nothing, silly. Just the snow.»
A snow that won't let you reach your family and that crashed your Wi-Fi for the time being. With another sigh, you start slowly munching on a slice of tangerine, the sour juice filling your mouth making you grimace.
The silence in the house is deafening and you find yourself missing your quiet roommate and co-worker.
Although being a man of few words and keeping to his bedroom for the most part, Min Yoongi has a presence you can't quite ignore; as neat and organized as he is, his books are more often than not scattered around the living room and, despite his aloof and reserved character, it's not unusual finding the two of you sitting on the couch in the evening with Bam resting at your feet, sipping a cold beer or eating take-away that tastes of nothing as you rant about how annoying some managers at your workplace are or, if you're both tipsy enough, discuss about things that are so meaningless in the grand scheme of things and yet so important for your little lives.
You're never going to admit it, but you find yourself missing him, especially on this Christmas Eve, where you're seemingly cut from everyone and everything.
At the next, strong gust of wind making the windows shake on their panels, you decide you've had enough and, gently moving your puppy Dobermann to the side and piling up the tangerine peels on the coffee table before you, you rise from your cramped spot with a grunt.
Tiptoeing as quick as you can towards your room – you never wear slippers and the floor is cold –, you dash back towards the sofa once you retrieved your phone; you might be without internet, at the moment, but you downloaded at least a thousand songs on your Spotify, enough to last for hours on end, if that's what you need to cover the howling blizzard outside.
Hozier's gravelly, twangy voice soon saturates the room and you lie down on the couch, one arm dangling over its edge so you can still soothingly pat Bam's head, your other hand idly resting on your stomach.
When the weather is awful like that, you almost regret living in a place with a glass window taking up nearly a whole wall, but then you remind yourself of the farmland that begins right behind the building and how stunning it can get at times, especially when the snow will finally settle and everything is going to look white and soft and untouched, as if from a different realm.
If you were in a better mood, you would have ventured out with your dog once the storm subdued to play with him and, why not, make a snowman like you used to when you were a kid. But, alas, you're stuck in this stupid town instead of celebrating the holidays with your family and, with no Wi-Fi working for who knows how long, you can't even video call them to at least see their faces.
You close your eyes and try to stop thinking about it, but how can you, really? You were looking forward to these two weeks for months, you survived your hectic days as a data analyst with the thought of soon reuniting with your close relatives, and it all evaporated with a simple mail from the airline company telling you all flights have been cancelled because of the weather conditions. That was yesterday and your luggage taunts you whenever you enter your bedroom.
If only you had left two days ago, like Yoongi did!
You would be back home, now, helping your mother in the kitchen as your father is left dealing with his in-laws and their shopworn lectures on how Hanukkah used to be more strict and seriously taken back when they were young.
Your grandparents always love to act outraged whenever they see you recite one blessing over the menorah instead of the traditional three, but your mother has long ago stated that in her house that's how it goes. It's strange how you miss even the light – and constant – bickering when you are forced away.
After your umpteenth frustrated sigh of the day, you get up from the second-hand couch and gather the remainings of the tangerines to throw them away, using your stop in the kitchen as an excuse to eat a couple of chocolate gelt.
While the first chocolate coin melts on your tongue, you rest your hips against the counter and look outside the window above the sink to see that the blizzard has apparently no intention of slowing down any time soon. Well, not like you have places to go, at this point.
Oh, you are so tempted to take down the little decorations you and Yoongi put up last week and curl up in your bed until the end of the holidays! And maybe you should do just that: no sense in celebrating on your own and, if you hide beneath the coziness of your blankets, you can turn off the heating and save money on the bills.
You unwrap another praline, its bittersweet taste dragging over your taste buds warmly, the idea of disappearing for the next two weeks cementing itself in your brain with each passing second.
In the other room, Hozier's voice softly dissolves into one of your favourite songs by The Rose and you try to focus on its comforting lyrics instead of the blizzard and the sadness in your heart.
You take a couple of deep breaths, the scent of tangerines and dark chocolate, combined with the citrusy one of your dish soap, making your head lightly spin, but you welcome it and keep inhaling until you feel like you calmed down a bit.
And that's when the bell rings loudly and you almost have a heart attack.
With a yelp – and miraculously managing not to spit the chocolate still in your mouth – you hurry towards the entrance door, Bam soon behind you, although without barking. You frown, but don't pay it much mind, too startled by the fact someone is waiting for you on the landing on a Christmas Eve and with a blizzard raging just outside the building. You try to glance through the peephole, but it's blocked by a mountain of white that only raises your confusion. What the-? You unlock the door and open it a bit to take a cautious look at whatever it is.
The first, irrational thought is that a yeti just rang your bell, but then the abominable snowman speaks from beneath his snow-clad scarf and your heart plunges down to your stomach for a very different reason – but a similar horror.
«Can I come in or what? Kinda freezing my balls, here.»
*
You mindlessly scrap Bam's head as you wait for the water in the shower to stop running, teeth planted on your lower lip with such jitteriness you're probably close to making yourself bleed.
You stopped the playlist as soon as you got back in the living room, so now the only noise filling the stagnant air – aside from the howling wind and the shower – is that of the washing machine going at top speed in the small storage closet by the bathroom.
What is he doing here? And how did he even get all the way over your block of flats? His apartment is quite literally on the other side of the town!
Considering how covered he was in snow and ice, he probably walked, the idiot, but you still can't find an answer to your first question. Why is he here? Surely, he must know his best buddy left the country for the holidays.
And, undeniable fact, «Yoongi is not here» is the first thing you state as soon as the most infuriating man you know, the very bane of your existence, decides he's used up enough of your hot water and makes his appearance beneath the living room threshold, dark hair damp and curling lightly around his temples and chiselled jaw.
«I'm aware.» When you realize he's not going to add anything else, playing with Bam instead – the traitor left your side and rushed to the other man to jump and happily bark at him as if he was his owner –, you scoff and get back on your feet.
«Okay...? Then what do you want?»
«Well, I owned Yoongi hyung a favour» he simply says, kneeling down to let the big puppy lick his face freely and starting to stroke his black fur in return. You try not to soften at the sight, but Bam looks so happy, as if no longer scared by the blizzard, while he's straight up ridiculous in Yoongi's pajamas. Well, you rather have him wear clothes that are two sizes too short than lending him yours, even if for a couple of hours only.
«And?» You push for further explanation, dragging a hand all over your face in utter frustration. Really, today couldn't get any worse.
«He didn't want us to spend Christmas alone.»
«Okay?» It's not even Christmas yet, so what are his plans, exactly? Sleeping here?
«So here I am. I brought wine.» A nod towards the plastic bag he left by the entrance door, a small puddle of melted snow growing beneath it. Oh, he's cleaning that.
«I don't drink wine.»
«Well, more for me.» He shrugs, letting Bam softly bite on his index finger as they start to play a little. You look away, towards the big panelled window and the raging snow, but you can't ignore his stupid baby talk and your puppy happy growls.
«What are you doing here, Jungkook? Really.» You burst out when you've got enough of it.
With the corner of your eyes, you see him sit on his heels, petting Bam's tummy as the Dobermann rests on his back between his long, toned legs.
«Told you. Grumpy man has a soft spot for the two of us and he asked me to come at your place and celebrate together.»
«We don't like each other.» Anymore. He doesn't say anything to that and you're not sure why you feel a sudden pang of hurt in your chest.
«Are you going to kick me out in the middle of the blizzard? Almost froze to death on my way here.»
«You shouldn't have come.»
«Oh, so you're really going to kick me out, uh? Where's your Christmas spirit? Or Hanukkah spirit or whatever it is you celebrate.»
«I celebrate both, just so you know. – You scoff and turn towards him once more. – And I'm afraid you won't find any, of either “spirit”. Did Yoongi also tell you why I'm here on my own?»
«Not really, but it doesn't take a genius. Plus, I'm pretty much in your same situation, my dear Grinch.»
«Really?» That gives you pause, but you try not to feel any sort of pity for him, although, yes, he also should be back to South Korea, by now.
«Mh mh. Couldn't get my ticket in time, this year.»
«My flight was cancelled yesterday, so not exactly the same thing.»
«Technicalities. The result is, we're both stuck here and won't be able to go back home for the holidays, which seems the same thing to me. Sucks equally, don't you think?»
«It's your fault you're stuck here. You should have booked your ticket earlier.»
The other man clicks his tongue and, after one last pat on Bam's head, raises back on his feet as well, the pyjama grey pants rolling up above his ankles with the motion. You try to ignore the flash of hurt crossing his face, his gaze darkening, and press your lips together.
«Yeah, well, my job doesn't pay a fortune and I preferred spending my salary on food and bills. But next year I will most certainly starve myself to death to go see my family in Busan, because it's much better than spending my time with you. You know, I wasn't forced to walk all the way over here in the middle of a fucking blizzard to keep you company, Yoongi merely suggested it, but you clearly already have your exciting plans, so have fun with your pity party. Bye, Bam!» Accent growing thicker with each sentence, he blows an exasperated breath and turns towards the door. The words are out of your mouth before you even realize he won't actually leave the house dressed like that... right?
«Wait! Wait. I didn't mean to be a dick like that. – You clear your throat and attempt a step towards him, Bam looking between the two of you with liquid eyes, as if he could understand what you're saying. – It's just that... I'm frustrated and we never get along and-»
«Well, you surely don't even try.»
You bite on your tongue, because he's the one to talk. He ruined everything, seven months ago, not you.
«I will.»
«For the sake of Christmas?»
«And also because you walked through a blizzard to come here.»
«Very much appreciated.»
«That was very idiotic of you.»
«I don't like being alone. And neither do you, clearly. Listen, I know I'm not the best company, but I'm all you got, this year, so you gotta make the best of it. If it doesn't work, I'll go nap in Yoongi's room and you can go back to your crying.»
«Wasn't crying» you grumble, hugging yourself around the middle in a protective way.
«Whatever. I'll leave as soon as the blizzard is over. Deal?»
«Am I agreeing to spending Christmas Eve with you or to you leaving once the blizzard is over?»
«Suppose both, but maybe you'll find out I'm actually a joy to be around and won't let me leave.» Once, you surely would have, but that train left the station a long time ago.
«In your dreams.»
«My dreams are much less innocent than this.»
«I can still kick you out.»
«And have me meet my certain death? You're not that heartless.»
«Depends on how much you push your luck, Jeon.»
«I do love challenges. Okay, okay. – The young man quickly raises his hands in defence when you send him a dirty look. – Only joking. I'll be good, cross my heart.»
«Mh mh.» You're unimpressed and you could write a novel with all the reasons to back it up.
«So... what do you usually do?» The other man asks after a moment, clearing his throat. He looks... suddenly unsure, but you try not to give it too much thought, your mind too preoccupied with the fact that you actually let him stay and that you're going to spend the rest of the day together, alone. It didn't happen in, well, seven months.
«Nothing much. Spend time with my family, bake cookies with my mother and help with the Menorah. When we don't feel like playing games, we usually watch movies or old tv shows reruns.»
«Do you have a Menorah here?»
«I don't keep it, because I usually fly home on the 23rd and so I couldn't light the remaining candles.»
«Alright. Let's go bake some cookies, then.»
«Do you even know how to cook?»
«For your information, I can move around the kitchen pretty well.»
«No way.»
«Yes way, my dear Grinch.»
«That's not a word.»
«It is now.»
«You are insufferable.»
«Merely matching your energy, here. Have they ever told you you pout when you're annoyed?»
«No, because I don't.»
«You so do.»
«Well, maybe you're the only one that gets to see it, because you're the single most annoying man I know.»
«Flattered.» It's his deadpan answer and you are so tempted to hit him with something.
And to think that the two of you have... a past – albeit very short lived.
Something bitter churns at your insides, but you won't let this day get any more nightmarish than it already is. If he wants to stay and keep you company, fine, you feel so lonely you're willing to endure his loud presence for some time.
Still, you're going to murder Min Yoongi for asking him to stop by.
*
«Chocolate chips, walnuts and cherries?» Jungkook looks at you with his big almond eyes as if you just told him you're going to mix moon dust with the dry ingredients for your cookies. Scoffing, you push past him to go retrieve two bowls and the mixer.
«It's good.» You defend through gritted teeth, sneaking a glance towards the living room to make sure Bam is actually sleeping on the couch and not eating something he's not supposed to; his teeth are growing and you're tired of throwing away chewed shoes and small pieces of furniture. When you see his body all curled up in a corner, you nod to yourself in reassurance and drop the bowls on the counter.
«Sounds like a mess to me.» The young man next to you mumbles, unsealing the box of choco chips to take a quick sniff of it.
«Once you've tried it, you'll change your mind.»
«Why don't we make those... round doughnut things you usually eat?»
«You mean the sufganiyot?» You suggest, taking the box away from his hands – and nose. He pouts, but lets you and starts fidgeting with the pack of flour instead.
«I think, yeah.»
«Because I already bought them at the bakery. – And then, since he seems to know something about your own traditions and is behaving like promised, sort of, you add: – We can try to bake some Korean dish too, if you want.»
«Cool. You ever tried gotgamssam?»
«Don't even know what that is.»
«Oh... uhm... basically walnuts wrapped in dried persimmons.»
«I don't have persimmons, but feel free to go at the grocery store to buy some.»
«Okay, fine. What about Hotteok? You know those? »
«Yoongi makes them, sometimes, so I think I also have the ingredients.»
«Okay, so we can bake your weird cookies and Hotteok.»
«Mh-mh.» You eloquently agree, freeing the flour from his nervous fingers to start working.
He promptly rolls the sleeves of Yoongi's nightshirt up his elbows and that's when you notice it.
«Thought you hated tattoos» you say, before you can even stop yourself. You see him frowning for a moment, before looking down at his forearm as well. You think you see his neck flush a dark shade of red, but you might be mistaken, because you're trying not to stare at him – and his exposed arms – too obviously.
«I got one when I was drunk and I found out I actually like ink on my skin.»
The next words are out of your mouth in an instant.
«You're so reckless. You shouldn't drink so much. You make stupid decisions when you're wasted.»
«Not all the decisions I made were stupid. It's what I did the morning after that was.»
You stop pouring the all-purpose flour in the bowl altogether, fixing your gaze on him. You don't know how nor what to feel, but you surely don't want to listen to him. It's been seven months; that day is very well buried in the past, at this point.
«Can we not talk about this, right now?» Or never, for the matter.
Of course, Jungkook is not of the same opinion.
«I think it's time... actually, I think we waited too much.»
«We? I'm not the one who ran away and then ignored it completely, Jungkook.»
«I know. I acted like a complete idiot and I deserve the way you treated me ever since then, but...»
«But what» you snap, putting the bowl back on the counter with perhaps a little too much strength, the clash echoing in the silent room for a couple of seconds more.
«I was scared, okay?» He eventually blows out, dropping his gaze.
«No, you're just a coward that fucks around and ghosts people the morning after.»
«Is... this what you think of me?» His eyes immediately fly back to yours, round with shock.
«It's what you are. – You shake your head, not knowing if you're more disappointed in him for disappearing the morning after or with yourself for believing it actually meant something to him as well. – But I get it, I was just another one night stand to you and I've come to terms with it months ago, so enough talking about it.»
«Wait... no... you were not-»
«Enough, Jungkook. I really don't wanna hear your stupid excuses.»
«Let me explain. Please, I owe you an explanation.»
You throw a handful of flour at him and then stare at the white splatter on the front of Yoongi's shirt almost in a daze, as if your hand moved on its own volition.
«I told you I don't wanna hear about it.»
«But I need to tell-»
Another throw, this time hitting him square in the face. This one was done on your volition.
«Shut up!»
«No» he merely says, not doing much to clean himself up.
«Excuse me?»
«You can throw me the whole bag, but I've been a dick for too long and you deserve an explanation and an apology. Please, just let me-»
«Get out, Jungkook. I don't care if you freeze to death, just get out and live me alone.»
«I left the morning because I was scared.» A rushed out confession that you really didn't need to hear. He already broke your heart once, you don't want to go through that all over again.
«Shut-»
«We were both wasted and when I woke up I realized there was no way someone like you would actually want to be with me with a sober mind. I didn't want you to tell me it was all a mistake and reject me, so I ran away. I didn't want to get hurt, but I only ended up hurting you and... and I'm a piece of shit, I know. But it wasn't a one night stand to me.»
«What? This all sounds like a load of bullshit.»
«Well, it's not.»
«You rejected me because you thought I would reject you?»
«I- yes.»
«Bullshit.»
«I already received too many delusions, I couldn't stand the idea of you getting rid of me, too.»
And this is when you see his teary eyes, the tip of his nose reddening as he looks down with a shaky exhale.
«Who the fuck said I would have rejected you?» you shout in a whisper, hugging yourself around the middle and taking a step towards him. How could he even think that? What the hell what the hell
«And why wouldn't you? You're so clever and have a degree and a stable job that pays you well and I am... I'm just a cashier that dropped out of university because he couldn't keep up. Why the fuck would you want to stay with a failure like that? To settle down with me?»
«Jungkook, what the hell?!» It's all you can shout at his nonsense, your anger melted just like snow.
You're holding his face and forcing him to look at you, now, using the soft pad of your thumbs to brush away the tears – and the remaining flour – from his cheeks.
«What the hell, Jeon. How can you even think something like that? Actually, how can you even think I would give a single fuck about whether you have a PhD or not?» You're offended because he believes you to be so superficial, but nothing compares to the hurt you feel in seeing him thinking so low of himself.
He always looks so confident and carefree that it never crossed your mind that was nothing but a façade, that the reason he left was a far cry from what you always thought.
«Because that's why my ex left me.»
«I'm not your ex.»
«You deserve better.»
«Let me decide what I deserve. – You shake your head with a sigh and, even though you already rid his skin from the last tears, you still softly caress it, his eyelids slightly dropping at the touch. – You should have stayed that morning and talked to me like you just did.»
«I'm an idiot» he whispers with a little sniff.
«You are. You so are, Jeon Jungkook.»
«I'm really sorry for leaving. But when you never said anything and started to ignore me, I convinced myself I did the right thing.»
«I was hurt and angry. You made me feel like a quick fuck and nothing else and I hated it.»
«I'm sorry. You were far from it, believe me.»
«Idiot. You're an idiot.»
«Yes.» He closes his eyes completely and you let him rest his forehead against yours, his slow breaths taste of smoke and licorice on your mouth.
«Can you...»
«Mh?»
«Can you forgive me? – he whispers with a small voice. – I know what I did was a complete dick move and that I can be annoying as hell, but can you, perhaps, forgive me for that morning? If I could go back in time, I'd punch myself in the face, believe me.»
«I believe you. – You nod with a shaky smile. – Because that's exactly what I wanted to do when I opened my eyes and found your side of the bed empty.»
«You had plenty occasions to do it. Why never you?»
«That morning I was too hangover to try running after you and Yoongi managed to make me reason and, after... I was just too hurt and decided to ignore you, instead.»
«You can punch me now. I still deserve it.»
You snort a little chuckle and shake your head, his messy bangs tickling your skin much like they did that fateful night of seven months ago.
«Got you covered in flour. I think that's a good enough revenge.» You let him know, taking a tiny step back to look into his eyes when he eventually reopens them.
«Do you still have it for your cookies?»
«Nope.»
«Oh. What now?»
«I don't know. Don't worry, I have food, we won't starve.»
«We? So you're not kicking me out?» It's a hopeful question, the ghost of a smile curling his plump lips upwards, but his eyes are still shiny and red with tears.
«It's tempting, but I don't think I will. Just don't ran away anymore.»
«I'll try, I promise. Does it mean you're forgiving me?»
«It means I'm giving you a second chance. And that you can spend Christmas here, tomorrow.»
His smile is bigger, now, and your heart flutters at the sight. But not as much as when his mouth gently skims over yours, giving you the opportunity to push away.
in honor of taehyung’s birthday we have put together some of the fics of our members for you to enjoy right in one masterlist. happy reading and happy birthday to kim taehyung.
please note. we only compiled a few fics as the quantity that has been reblogged on this network for taehyung is too much to include in one post. with that being said, do not hesitate to look through our tags by searching for m;taehyung.
You meant to deal with this alone, it’s what you’re used to. But Taehyung won’t let you feel bad about it.
innocent (until proven guilty) | ♛ ❦ ⊕
— @augustbutwinter
so let’s be sinners to be saints, and let’s be winners by mistake / our hearts are too ruthless to break, let’s start fires for heaven’s sake.
if i can’t have you | ❀ ♛ ❦ ✎
— @namjooningelsewhere
Loving Taehyung is easy. It's easy to get lost in his adorable smile, his glimmering eyes, his saccharine words and everything that is him, Thats what your best friend told you the ten years she had been dating him. But your life turns upside down when your best friend abandons her love and your chldhood friend at the altar and out of extra ordinary circumstances instead of Sohee its you whos staring at the same pair of glimmering eyes, wearing the white gown meant for her and feeling the weight of an expensive ring on your fingers and before you know it, you say 'I do'.
swoon | ❀ ✓
— @sunshinerainbowsbts
“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
compound eyes | ❀ ✓
— @cinnaminsvga
After being declared the newest champion of the Hoenn region, it doesn’t take long until you are whisked away to participate in the annual Pokémon World Tournament and represent your hometown. Filled with the excitement of meeting strong trainers from all over the world, you don’t realize until it’s too late that a familiar face floats above the sea of participants. It’s none other than the newest Johto champion—who also happens to be your long-lost childhood rival.
freefall | ❀ ❦ ✓
— @jtrbluv
hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole. or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?
Thank you to all of our amazing members for writing these fics!
To our lovely members, followers, and anyone else who has landed upon this cafe.
On behalf of the network, the cafe admins wanted to announce our decision to close Btswritingcafe.
Of course, we understand that there will be assumptions as to why we have decided this. We want to make it clear of our reasons.
Over the course of the last 2 years there has been a gradual shift in activity with networks. Creating content in general has declined. This platform has made it increasingly difficult for anyone to post their own creations. For that reason, among many, there has been a struggle to keep networks thriving. We are not at all speaking on behalf of everyone else, but for ourselves and what we have noticed!
This is why we have decided to archive the cafe. We are so immensely thankful for the growth we have seen since we first opened. We have hosted numerous events and get to see such wonderful fics by our members. Thank you for supporting this network!
As of January 1st we will be archiving this network. We will not be deleting it but keeping the fics that have been reblogged available for everyone to read.
In the meantime, we will be functioning as normal. We will reblog all of the fics posted until December 31st.
Once again, thank you all for the support. We are so grateful for the experiences in this network. You are all amazing and we wish you the best!
warnings: oral sex (f. and m.), protected sex, some dirty talk, explicit language (as usual lol)
word count: 1.6k+
a/n: merry christmas & happy holidays! 🎄 I came up with another spontaneous idea of showing you some more of mh universe, taehyung particularly! this is just a short and fun drabble to show you a little throwback of his. this is not the original mh y/n !!! please enjoy and I’d be very happy to hear your thoughts!
++
“I—fuck, I only came here to fuck.”
He has to clear that out before this gets any further. He usually does before it gets to this point but somehow, there hasn’t been time to clarify. One minute he was dancing rather inappropriately with a pretty hot woman and the next she pulled him to one of the VIP rooms.
Genre: holiday, fluff, smut, established relationship, non-Idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: swearing, kissing, pregnancy kink, grinding, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex (intentionally unprotected), blatant use of the word "daddy," slight exhibitionism, soft yet hot Jin
Word Count: 548 words
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: Giving your fiancé his present in the early hours of Christmas morning
A/N: I realized upon finishing this one that finger sucking is in more than one of these Kinkmas fics. No one read too deeply into that, please. 👀
Just some more soft smut to close out Kinkmas! I cannot believe I wrote 28K in total 😵💫 Thank you to @goodsoop again for the prompts. Now I can catch up on everyone else's fics!
I hope you've enjoyed these little gifts that I've written for you. Happy holidays!! ❄️
Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕
Day 11 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️
Jin’s eyes open slowly. It’s dark outside. The clock reads 4:30 am.
Must be something about being back in his childhood home on Christmas. Like muscle memory, waking up at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and find what’s waiting under the tree.
He doesn’t get up. Instead, he slides his arm around your waist, slipping closer to you. You don’t stir, but huff in your sleep, a gentle sigh that makes Jin smile. He hopes you’re having a good dream.
Jin never knew he could love someone so much before you came along. Sometimes he thinks his own dreams have come true. Well, except for one. But maybe someday. Right now, you’re all he needs.
He tries not to press too firmly into you, but your skin is so warm, and the curve of your ass too inviting. He keeps as still as possible, erection nuzzling up against your cheeks, not rutting mindlessly like he wants. Even though the two of you have a long-standing open invitation to waking the other up with sex, he doesn’t feel right about doing it in his parents’ house.
Which is why he’s surprised when you roll your hips back onto him.
“Baby,” Jin husks, voice rough with sleep, “what’re you doing?”
“You need me to spell it out for you?” comes your teasing answer. Your fingers find his hard cock under his boxers, stroke the tip. “Please put it in me, sir.”
He laughs at your oddly formal request. “Baby, we shouldn’t. What if someone hears?”
“Well, your mom keeps saying she wants grandbabies, so I was thinking… what if we give her one for Christmas? It’ll just be nine months late.”
It’s difficult for Jin to focus on your words when you twist your fingers like that. “Wait, what?”
You roll over. “Merry Christmas, I stopped taking my birth control!”
Jin blinks. The two of you had been talking about it for a while, but he’d thought - he’d been afraid - that he was more into the idea than you. “Are you saying… ?”
“Seokjinnie,” you sigh, cupping his cheek, “put a baby in me.”
He smashes his plump lips into his pillow to muffle his loud whimper. “Fuck, yes, lemme knock you up!” he hisses, quickly maneuvering you onto your back. You laugh at his eagerness, hushed giggles that only make his heart beat faster with adoration.
It doesn’t take him long to get you wet with his fingers, and then he’s thrusting into you, biting his lip to suppress his moan. You’re rarely quiet when Jin fucks you, so he slips two fingers into your lips to keep your mouth busy.
“Shit, baby, so tight,” he grunts. You whine around his hand, eyelashes fluttering as he hits your sweet spot with his powerful pumps. “Gonna fill you up good, you ready?”
You nod, releasing his drool-coated fingers. “Come on, Seokjinnie, make my belly swell, fill me up!”
The thought of you round with his child pushes him over the edge. He spills into you, painting your womb white.
Euphoric, his head drops onto your shoulder. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you purr. “You know, it might take more than one shot, baby. Better try again.”
Jin groans, cock already hardening again. “Best. Present. Ever.”
Summary: Something's up with Taehyung. Despite her best efforts, Dilara can't help but be curious.
Pairing: Taehyung x OC
Genre: Angst and something else
Word count: 6.5 K
Rating: 18+
Warnings: language, themes, mentions of heartbreak, infidelity, online hate
A/N: It's cold, and writing this made me feel just a little warmer. I wasn't planning on releasing this so soon but it's the end of the year and I'm feeling a lot of gratitude in general, including for my readers - so this one's for you lot. Hope you all have a lovely Christmas and a wonderful New Year :)
This fic begins a couple of days after The Reason.
Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)
Listen to: "ocean eyes" by billie eilish
taehyung masterlist | main masterlist
The subtle shift after Dilara’s confession is… well, subtle. She doesn’t notice it at first, mostly because Taehyung continues to keep his distance from her like she’d asked. She can’t tell if he’s told the others anything because they don’t act any differently around her. No, the change is in Dilara, in her behaviour. It doesn’t become clear to her until she hears him laugh one day in the kitchen and her heart skips a beat, and she realises that she’s stopped leaving the room the moment he comes in.
I don’t hate you. It’s not a huge insight, to be honest. If she’d hated him, truly hated him, she would’ve made sure he wouldn’t have the nerve to approach her at all, let alone stand all hauntingly and sexily right behind her as he murmured an apology in that deep, raspy voice that makes her feel some kind of way. It did look like news to him, if the confused look on his face was any indication. She remembers what Namjoon said: He was devastated about your break-up, of course, but seeing you so broken up about it changed everything.
Thinking about it doesn’t help, though. His apology is just that - an apology. She still doesn’t know how he feels about him or how he feels about her, irrespective of what Jimin and Namjoon might say. She doesn’t know if she forgives him and she definitely doesn't know what she wants after that. Dilara becomes increasingly aware of the fact that this PR activity is only until Japan, which is another month away. After that, he goes back to his life and she goes back to hers, and they only interact in the limited capacity of Red Bull driver and Red Bull ambassador. She tries not to think of it as a deadline.
Nurburgring is as cold as ever. It’s also as small as every other European town they’ve lived in so far, so it isn’t surprising that even though the house they’ve got has a gigantic backyard with a lake beyond it, all eight of them stay huddled inside, constantly cradling a mug of something hot in their hands. Therefore, it’s to her surprise when she comes out of her room after a hot shower to see nearly all the guys huddled in the kitchen, surreptitiously peering out the window.
Dilara frowns as she sidles up behind Jungkook, who immediately steps aside to give her space. She spots him immediately, of course; Kim Taehyung, looking like a painting even in slippers and joggers, sitting in the grass, face unreadable from the distance as he stares out at the frozen lake.
“Is that -” But as usual, Dilara can’t say his name. “What is he doing out there? He’ll get hypothermia.” She looks up at Jungkook, practically demanding an answer.
“Um…” He looks conflicted, looking to the older members as though asking for permission.
“Of course you can tell her,” says Jimin in an uncharacteristically low voice, continuing to look outside in worry.
Namjoon sighs. “His, uh, his sister graduated high school and - and he didn’t know,” he explains. “Then he called home and… well, I don’t know what happened after that.” He gestures to Taehyung outside. “He didn’t say anything. He’s been sitting out there ever since.”
This can’t be good. Even without knowing the whole story, Dilara feels her heart crack just a little bit. All through their short-lived relationship, he’d never really spoken much about his siblings. His parents, yes. His grandparents, a lot, with affection and sadness all put together. But the few times that he’d brought up his brother and sister at all, it mostly revolved around ancient childhood memories, pre-debut, because those were the only ones he said he had. When she’d once asked him what their relationship was like now, he’d taken a long time to answer before simply saying “Not much” and proceeding to shut down for the rest of the day.
Dilara had drawn basic conclusions of her own, resisting the urge to ask any of the others, but she’d never brought it up with him again. Now she remembers why. It’s familiar, this sort of worry spreading through her.
“Is he…” No, he’s not. Of course he’s not okay. She bites her lip and tries again. “Does he want to be left alone?”
A little distance away, Yoongi scoffs, not unkindly. “Not by you,” he says, too knowingly for her liking.
The next thing she knows, she’s walking across the backyard, clenching her fists in the cold. There’s no wind, thankfully, but she can see her breath when she exhales, pearly white, as she approaches the lone figure. She stops a few feet away from him.
Taehyung doesn’t even look up. “Jeoligayo, Jimin-ah,” he snaps, and she flinches. She forces herself to stay, though.
“Wrong alcoholic,” she says steadily, keeping her eyes trained on him as his head snaps up to look at her in shock.
“What are you -” He swallows, pushing his thick black glasses up his nose. “Why are you here?”
Dilara shrugs. “No reason. Can I sit?”
His eyes narrow. “I don’t need your pity,” he mutters flatly.
She frowns. “I’m not pitying you. I’m not even sure what’s wrong with you.”
“Oh, sure,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes and looking back at the lake. “You just happen to want to sit with me right now after avoiding me for weeks.”
Dilara huffs and rolls her eyes, even as hope bubbles in her stomach. This bickering, snapping, the sarcasm - this Taehyung she knows how to handle. This is her Taehyung, she thinks, before she nearly blanches. When on earth did she start thinking of him as her anything?
“You’re still here,” he states.
“Well done. Now can I sit here or not?”
“No.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You really want me to leave? Because I’ll do it.”
He turns back up to look at her, face smoother and stonier than ever. “Fine. Do it. Go.” His voice cracks on the last word.
As Dilara watches him turn back around, she makes up her mind. She knows he isn’t going to budge, even if he feels differently. He’s stubborn, and he’ll sit here all night if it means keeping his pride, lashing out at everyone the more hurt he is. It was like living with the grinch. A mean, petty, heartbroken and very handsome grinch. It’s unfortunate but true, so she shifts to his right and, keeping a decent five foot distance between them, drops to the ground and folds her legs.
Taehyung turns to look at her incredulously. “Seriously? Why did you ask if you’re going to do what you want anyway?”
“You don’t own the backyard,” she reminds him. “I can sit where I want. Why don’t you leave?”
“Because I was here first.”
“Fine, then stay there. I’m all the way over here,” she points out, gesturing to the distance as if it were a trench and not a short distance from where she can still smell his cologne. “Just pretend I’m not here.”
He scoffs again but doesn’t say anything, folding his arms across his chest. The situation feels familiar, but also different. Taehyung and Dilara, suppressed sadness, misdirected anger, and patience. Endless patience. Her heart gives a feeble jolt when she realises this is Monza, where she knew she’d be missing an iconic race on the calendar, where she was injured, where Taehyung drove her, waited for her, fed her and sat through her endless bitching because he knew she was hurting.
She knows the circumstances aren’t exactly the same. She hasn’t cheated on him, she hasn’t hurt him. But no matter what he’s done to her, this… this situation with his siblings isn’t about them at all. Just like Monza wasn’t about them.
Bracing herself for another snappy reaction, she scoots over next to him so their shoulders brush. He doesn’t disappoint.
“What are you doing?” he asks, although this time she detects more surprise than annoyance.
“It’s freezing,” she tells him, exhaling shakily to prove her point, “and I need some bodily warmth.” She waits for him to disagree or make some sarcastic comment, but when he doesn’t, she leans back against the rock and they sit together awkwardly.
It’s still not enough, though. Dilara knows Taehyung, despite her best efforts at pretending otherwise. He’s been vulnerable with her before and she knows what he needs. She remembers a year ago, on her last day in California: a fight, followed by making up with hours of sex, a shower, and sleep. The entire time, he hadn’t let go of her once.
Even at night, when they’d barely exchanged two words, he’d held her close, forehead pressed to her hair, breath warm against her shoulder as they silently prepared to separate yet again. Skinship, it seemed, made him feel better, secure, loved.
Conversely, in Monza, she needed space. He’d given it to her, even though she’d seen his hand reach out for hers multiple times before he’d suddenly remembered that he couldn’t take those liberties anymore. She can, though. She doesn’t think she’s wrong, and right now her heart aches too much for him to not at least try.
So, before she can change her mind, Dilara reaches over and slips her hand into his, and drops her head onto his shoulder. The moment her fingers touch the back of his hand, though, he flinches. She realises her hands must be freezing; they always are, whereas his are always warmer than usual, like now. M-m, under the shirt, she remembers whispering to him more than once, feeling him grin silently against her skin, knowing he loved it when she asked.
“Sorry,” she mutters, going to release his hand but before she can, Taehyung’s fingers tighten and he gently tugs, resting their clasped hands on his lap. Her heart races, especially when he brings his left hand on his lap as well and covers the back of hers, warming it.
They haven’t been this close physically since he’d helped her walk in Monza. He feels warm, comforting; she has to resist the urge to turn her head and inhale his scent. The familiar lotion and cologne smells like a home she’s moved out of. She wonders if she should ask him what happened, but a part of her feels like it’s none of her business.
He’s letting you sit here, isn’t he? Even if Dilara assumes Jimin and Namjoon’s theory is correct, that he does still feel the same way about her, this isn’t a topic he’s super forthcoming about. Still, her mind goes back to how Jimin had said Jungkook could definitely tell her, or how Yoongi was sure Taehyung didn’t want to be left alone by her. But she also doesn’t want him to push her away again. For once, she’s able to think about him without letting her anger or hurt get in the way, and it feels too rare and precious to disturb. She considers asking him softly if he wants to talk about it when he speaks.
“She doesn’t want me to come.” Taehyung’s voice is hoarse and shaky. She gathers he’s talking about his sister, that she doesn’t want him to come to her graduation… Dilara wants to sigh, mostly because she has no idea what to say. From the limited information she has about this, she knows his siblings don’t have the best relationship with him, from harbouring resentment for being away, to having no room for him in their lives.
He sniffles, and she feels lost, not knowing what to say or what comfort to offer. With her free hand, she grasps his arm and wraps her fingers around it, squeezing his lean bicep gently and rubbing her thumb on his sweater. Her heart hurts; she doesn’t like seeing him in pain. She never has. Even when they were together and he liked to be the one taking care of her, she started preferring it just because it was too hard the other way round. His bottom lip would quiver, his eyes would well up, the tip of his nose would go red and she’d be powerless to stop the pain.
They stay there for a while in the cold, sitting beside each other in the closest physical way in over half a year. Dilara’s mind drifts to their time in Japan; another cold weekend surrounded by the circus that was Formula 1 and BTS, while she and Taehyung shared their own private, intimate space, falling in love without even realising it. A cold breeze blows and she shivers.
“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks softly, turning his head slightly, probably to not disturb where hers is resting on his shoulder.
Dilara lifts her head up, though, and takes her hand off his arm. “Um… no,” she lies, not wanting this to end.
“You have goosebumps,” he murmurs, turning their clasped hands around so hers is on top and pushing back her sleeve a few inches above her wrist, as if to show her proof. He’s right; as his long fingers brush her skin, the bumps become even more pronounced.
Quickly pulling her sleeve back down, Dilara turns their hands over and pushes his sleeve up. “You have goosebumps, too,” she points out, a bit more defensively than she intended.
Taehyung chuckles quietly. “It’s not a competition.”
“Not a close one.” Her fingers touch something cold and when she moves her hands a bit, the dim moonlight brings a familiar ring into view, resting on his index finger. Her heart twists, and next to her, Taehyung stiffens.
Dilara tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at him. Their faces are incredibly close. “Will you be okay?” she asks softly.
Taehyung nods, eyes flickering with emotion. “Why did you -” He breaks off, looking away for a moment. “Thanks for… for this.”
She bites her lip. “You know this doesn’t change anything.” As she says it, she hears the disappointment in her own voice.
“I know,” he nods. “But thanks anyway.”
She nods slowly and, involuntarily, her gaze flickers to his mouth before she immediately brings it back up to look at him. He’s looking at her too meaningfully, with far too much tenderness and regret. Dilara’s aware that at least some of it is an aftereffect of an emotionally heavy evening with his family, but as their breaths condense in the air and mingle with each other, she finds she’s afraid to find out how much of it is for her.
This time, Taehyung’s eyes fall to her mouth before coming up to meet hers, a lot slower than she did. A strand of blond hair has escaped his cap and she imagines brushing it back, maybe lightly touching his face, tracing the contours of his cheekbones...
They’re about to kiss. She knows it. His eyes are half-lidded and his face is closer than it was a moment ago. Butterflies erupt in her stomach and she suddenly feels shy as his lips slowly approach hers… and she doesn’t back away.
They’re interrupted by footsteps, loud ones that jerk them out of their trance. She snaps up to see Jin and Jimin approaching them. “Gwaenchanayo?” Jin asks tentatively.
Suddenly realising they’re still holding hands, Dilara immediately lets go of Taehyung’s and stands up, brushing herself off. “Yeah, everything’s fine. He’s all yours,” she tells them before hurrying back inside.
---
Dilara doesn’t want to know what Taehyung’s reaction was to being interrupted. If she knows him, it was a mixture of annoyance at his friends, regret at not acting faster with her, and some amount of apprehension at how she will react later.
She doesn’t stick around to find out, though. The next morning, Qualifying day, Mick Schumacher and Max Verstappen pick her up from the house to go to the paddock together. She sees Mick standing outside the car, blond and beautiful, looking like a Disney prince as he smiles and waves to her. Behind him, Max scowls at his phone as he types something, looking up only to politely nod his head at someone behind her.
“Good luck today,” says Namjoon to all of them when she turns around to see him emerge with a book in his hand. He gives her a momentary look that seems too meaningful to be a coincidence, before smiling and waving as they leave.
BTS don’t come to the paddock today. Dilara isn’t sure, but she suspects they’re filming a Run episode and irrespective of what their PR arrangement is and the fact that she doesn’t understand Korean anyway, the staff would rather not have her around.
She does get good luck texts from Jimin, Seokjin and Hoseok, the latter also adding an additional line about watching out for this episode when it airs just to be entertained by what a bad mood Taehyung is in. It’s exasperating how temperamental he gets, but there’s also a secret pride that she can’t help but feel at the suspicion that his mood could be this bad because of the kiss that almost happened… and the cold shower she suspects he needed to take after it.
Dilara needed to, if she’s being fully honest. She didn’t because it was freezing, but later that night under the covers with the lights off, for the first time in weeks, she’d brought out of her suitcase a most loyal of travel companions. In the brave hope that the thick blankets would be enough to mask the sound of the vibrations, Dilara, for the first time in months, pictured her ex-boyfriend with no guilt or shame, the memory of how her stomach had fluttered at the thought of kissing him overpowering everything.
In hindsight, Dilara doesn’t know how she would’ve responded if he had kissed her. For that reason alone, she’s relieved they were interrupted. But the momentary warmth she’d felt with his body so close to hers had been unbearably stirring, his voice deep and husky as he murmured in the dark, their fingers intertwined, his slender hand still on her wrist, how his jaw tightened just a bit as he looked down at her mouth…
As expected, Qualifying is tough. The temperature is unbearable and no matter how many blankets the pit crew covers the tyres in, they just aren’t hot enough. Two pairs of cars crash into each other, while the remaining drivers just try to hang on and wrap up the least productive Qualifying session ever.
It’s not a good Qualifying for Dilara - but not because of her result. Max snags P3 and she finishes P4, a good result considering, despite a frustrating hour of being able to get no heat into her stupid tyres. A racing incident ends up ruining fan favourite Lando Norris’s Q3, though, and while she doesn’t think it’s her fault, he’s still in P10.
Dilara just knows her phone is going to blow up with hate from his fans. The post-Qualifying interview is terrible as well; she stutters and uses the wrong words that the anchor, Paul di Resta, immediately picks up on, and she overall ends up sounding rather defensive about the whole thing.
The debrief is shit, too, although not because of Christian or Helmut saying anything to her. They discuss her mistake but quickly move on to how they can spin it for tomorrow, with the constant question hanging over the team about how on earth they’re ever going to be able to race in such freezing conditions.
Mick and Max drop Dilara home after Quali, all three of them in relative silence which she’s thankful for. When she enters the house, it’s to the entire group in the living room and kitchen area, who conspicuously lower their voices at the sight of her. At first, she assumes they don’t want her to hear and she’s about to remind them that she doesn’t understand Korean. Then when she sees Jimin and Jungkook looking up at her from near the television with big, concerned eyes, it occurs to her that they might have seen Qualifying - and her interview after.
She doesn’t want to talk about it, though, with anyone. She silently waves in greeting and trudges to her room, shutting the door and heading straight for the shower. She turns the water to the hottest setting, welcoming the scalding water after a day of cold sweat and online hate.
It’s only after a long and elaborate moisturizing routine that Dilara realises she’s forgotten to pick up food from the track, meaning she has no dinner. Panic grips at her chest for a moment because she can’t not eat the night before a race, and the exhaustion makes her want to yell. Then, as if the universe has heard her and thrown her a bone, she smells something exquisite. She can’t tell what it is exactly, but it smells like soup and chicken curry, and her stomach rumbles in hunger.
Dilara puts her ear to the door, hearing nothing. It’s unheard of to have three or more members of BTS in a room and have this much silence, meaning it might just be safe to go out. Opening the door a crack and vaguely wondering why she’s being so dramatic, Dilara spots a lone Min Yoongi in the kitchen, quietly preparing dinner.
Her stomach rumbles again and she tries to count herself lucky that he, at least, will not probe her about today. The rest of her tries to gather the courage to actually step out of her room and open her mouth to ask him what she wants to. When she reaches the edge of the kitchen, she stops. If he’s seen her, he isn’t acknowledging it.
“Do you need some help?”
Yoongi looks up, hands still shaking some kind of powder into the pot on the stove. He frowns vaguely.
It’s not the reaction she was hoping for but it’s only then that she peers into the pot to see something vaguely orange bubbling away. Next to him, there’s a cutting board with two slabs of meat on it. “What are you making?” she asks curiously, frowning as she tries to place it.
He takes a moment before answering. “Dwaejigogi-jjigae.”
Dilara bites her lip. “Oh… I don’t - I don’t know what that is.”
He raises an eyebrow, now reaching for a cup of water. “You dated two Koreans and you don’t know what dwaejigogi-jjigae is?”
“Who’s the second? Chris?” she exclaims, thinking she might throw up. “God, no.”
“Not Chris,” says Yoongi calmly. “The other one, in Yeongam.”
Oh. Jaden. That’s even worse. “Oh,” she replies, not knowing what else to say. “How do you know about that?”
“The first one spotted you there,” he says wryly, a ghost of a smirk on his face.
So Taehyung had seen them snogging in the parking lot. She doesn’t know how to feel about that now. “Oh, yeah. Well… it didn’t really go anywhere,” she says vaguely. For some reason, she doesn’t want Yoongi to think she was at all serious about Jaden. She clears her throat. “So, do you need some help?”
Yoongi stares at her with narrowed eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to the pot. “Is this about what I said in Imola? Because it’s none of my business.”
“No, I know. I mean, it’s not - it’s not about that,” she says lamely, wishing she would stop stuttering. “I just… well, why don’t you want help?” she asks, changing tacks.
“It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s that apart from Jin hyung, you’re literally the first person in this house that’s ever offered to help out in the kitchen,” he explains, sounding fairly unbothered by the fact. “And I’ve been around these kids for too long not to get suspicious.”
Dilara isn’t sure how she feels about being lumped with the kids, although she guesses for Yoongi it’s only natural. It suddenly makes her feel like she'd rather tell him the truth. “I’m really hungry,” she blurts. “For - for home-cooked food.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “You’re offering to help because you want food?”
She hesitates. “I mean, it’s not like an Oliver Twist kind of situation.”
“You didn’t think I’d give you food unless you helped?” He tilts his head as he looks back at her, looking curious. “Do you really think I’m that much of a dick?”
“No, of course not,” she replies hurriedly, realising what it must sound like. “I’m just… I’m not… I’m not really hanging out with you guys right now, so I guess I don’t think it’s fair if I… I mean, I should…” She trails off, now feeling truly embarrassed. It occurs to her that even if she does get food, she’ll probably have to sit with them while she eats it. “You know what? It’s - it’s fine, I’ll just order in.”
“From where?”
“From… wherever the other drivers are getting their food from,” she answers vaguely, knowing all of them have their trainers with them and suddenly missing Lexie more than ever.
Yoongi frowns, still looking more curious than anything else. “Why are you so nervous? Do I intimidate you?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
Dilara scoffs nervously. “Oh, that can’t be news to you.”
He cracks a smile. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“Um, I don’t think I used the word afraid,” she clarifies before shrugging, looking down at her hands. “You’re like that older brother. The one you don’t want to disappoint.”
Yoongi chuckles quietly, without humour. “I don’t think you’re the one that disappointed me,” he admits wryly.
There’s an awkward silence. The idea that Yoongi could feel this strongly about her love life seems too foreign to consider. Dilara had never particularly got the impression that Yoongi really cared what she thought of him, but then again, he wouldn’t be the first member to surprise her.
Dilara remembers one of the few conversations they’ve ever had, just the two of them. He won’t hurt you. He’d more or less promised that, even though he had no business doing so. His response makes a little more sense when she thinks about that evening, sharing a taboo cigarette in Monterey and promising, to this day, to keep it between them.
“So do I really intimidate you, Lara?” Yoongi asks, gently pulling her out of her reverie.
Her heart skips a beat. “Oh… please don’t call me that,” she requests, shifting uncomfortably.
Yoongi looks amused. “Taehyung’s the only one who can call you that?”
The honest answer, she realises only now, is yes. “He doesn’t call me that anymore,” she says evasively.
“You can caramelise the onions,” he says after a moment, gesturing to another chopping board with a pile of sliced onions on it.
“Oh,” she sighs, deflating slightly.
“What?”
Dilara swallows. “I don’t - I mean… I really think it would be better if you gave me something that didn’t involve cooking, per se. Like chopping or - or cleaning…?” she suggests nervously, embarrassed at putting her incompetence on display like this. ”I’m a disaster in the kitchen,” she confesses.
Yoongi observes me for a moment. “Not to make things awkward, but sometimes you and Taehyung make so much sense, it’s crazy.”
It’s not the first time she’s heard this. “Yeah…” she agrees dryly, “until it isn’t.”
“What happened when you two tried cooking together?”
Dilara chuckles in spite of herself. “We never tried.”
“Just as well,” he replies. “Probably saved a kitchen somewhere from burning down.”
“Probably.” She pauses. “We never really got around to doing stuff like that,” she says after a moment, and she can hear the underlying regret in her own voice at how short a time they’d had together.
“Here,” says Yoongi after a moment. She looks up to see him push a bowl filled with carrots, leeks and colourful bell peppers. “You can chop this.”
---
Dilara should sleep. She really should. But sleep evades her for some strange reason and after a series of silly decisions, she finds herself walking outside like a goddamn zombie on an unbelievably freezing night in Germany.
What she’s doing is ridiculously stupid. She could get hypothermia, her joints will be stiffer than ever, she could catch a cold or a fever, she will lose out on sleep, and being awake at this hour is guaranteed to stress her out even more than she already is. But her anxiety takes precedence over it tonight, and without Lexie, Chris and Fred to help her out of it, especially after a shitty Qualifying, she realises she’s rather badly equipped to handle it on her own.
Dilara is on the verge of opening her Twitter app and reading comments about her today. She does that sometimes; it’s sick, deliberately reading hate about oneself, especially from people who probably can’t even drive a goddamn stick, but she does it anyway so that, ironically, her anxiety reduces by turning into conviction that, yes, she is a terrible driver, she probably doesn’t deserve the Red Bull seat, that a little girl shouldn’t be racing with men, she probably is PMSing when she accidentally says the wrong thing on camera…
She wants to call Lexie. If she were to find out what Dilara is tempted to do, she would shut her down so quickly that she’d feel stupid for considering it in the first place.
Dilara’s thumb hovers over her phone screen, frozen. Lexie had messaged herself right after Quali but Dilara hadn’t wanted to talk just then. It matters not, because the next second, the phone is at Dilara’s ear and she hears ringing. It rings and rings, but eventually goes to voicemail. She closes her eyes; even the sound of Lexie’s voice on the outgoing message helps a bit.
Dilara needs familiarity. Comfort.
Taehyung had tried to talk to her earlier in the night. The moment Yoongi had finished cooking, she’d inhaled a small bowl of food while he called the others inside and by the time they’d finally trudged in, she was already washing her bowl and stacking it back in the cabinet. She’d also quietly volunteered to wash the dishes after, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Yoongi, not realising that somehow, Taehyung was also on dish duty.
It was fine for a bit, silently washing and rinsing and wiping dishes side by side. Dilara could see him giving her lingering looks, each glance making it clear that he wanted to ask about Quali, until she finally asked him to quit it. He asked, sincerely, if she was okay, if she wanted to talk and she knew it was because of last night, but… giving him comfort was one thing. Taking it from him had the potential to spiral, especially when her feelings for him were getting more and more confusing by the day, so she had no choice but to forcefully decline.
When Taehyung tried again and reached for her hand in the warm soapy water in a presumably comforting gesture, Dilara yanked it back without thinking and, wiping her hands on the dishcloth, stalked away without a word. She doesn’t regret it, exactly; she’s still angry and she’s still hurt, and the last thing she wants to do is let him forget it.
“This is stupid,” she mutters, seeing her breath condense before her. She turns back towards the house and starts walking towards the front door when it opens. Startled, she halts to see Min Yoongi standing in the doorway, the porch light like a halo above his ice blue hair.
“What - what are you doing up so late?” Dilara asks him, genuinely bewildered. “It’s almost one am.”
“I could say the same to you,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes and sounding slightly disgruntled. He walks down the steps and stops a couple feet away from her, shoving his hands in the pocket of his oversized coat and shivering. “You know it’s freezing, right?”
“I - yes.”
“So… what are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” she asks, thoroughly confused.
“I saw you from my window,” he says shortly. “I thought I was imagining it but then you tried to kick a rock and missed, so I knew it was you.” Ignoring her mortification, Yoongi looks around at the foggy front yard. “So what is it? Is it about Qualifying?”
Dilara’s immediate instinct is to deny but when she doesn’t answer, he seems to take it as confirmation.
“Do you want to talk about it, then?” He sounds only mildly concerned, giving her enough room to decline if she wants. “It’s okay if you don’t,” he adds after a moment, “but at least come inside before you freeze to death.”
So they talk about it. Or rather, Dilara talks and Yoongi patiently listens. They sit near where she and Taehyung were last night, but the distance between them is much more respectable. Yoongi is way easier to talk to than she’d ever thought; even if there are things she mentions that he doesn’t understand, he listens, asking questions and letting her vent thoroughly.
“Can we not talk about this anymore?” she asks after she finishes talking about the last time she’d received online hate, all the way back in Spain this year when she was going through her heartbreak-induced slump.
“Okay.” Yoongi exhales before speaking. “For what it’s worth, the hate will never stop.”
Dilara doesn't look up. “Gee, thanks.”
He shrugs. “There’s always going to be someone, somewhere who thinks what you’re doing is shit,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. “There’s absolutely nothing you can do to make everyone happy. Not a thing.”
“I don’t care about making them happy,” she mutters. “It’s just unfair because they have no idea what it’s like in the car.”
“Exactly. They don’t. So their opinion means nothing, especially when it’s a troll halfway across the world that’s mad because you’re way further fulfilling your dreams than he is. Or she,” he adds thoughtfully.
“You don’t sound like this affects you at all,” she remarks after a moment, referring to the magnitude of hate she’s sure BTS probably gets. “Is all the anger reserved for Agust D?” she quips.
Yoongi grins, gummy smile flashing. “Something like that.”
“Maybe I should take up rapping.”
“You drive cars at ridiculous speeds. What’s a better outlet for your anger than that?”
He’s right, of course. In fact, it’s exactly what Chris Park would say. Save it for the track, D. She doesn’t have her support system here, but it occurs to her that she’s also not completely alone.
“Is he telling the truth?” Dilara asks suddenly, needing to find out.
“About what?” Yoongi doesn’t ask whom she’s referring to and for that she’s glad.
She shrugs. “Everything. Being sorry, making a mistake, the Jennie thing…” She trails off, swallowing. “How he feels…”
“I think so.” When she doesn’t respond, he sighs deeply, as if unable to believe he’s being dragged into this childish drama. “I mean, I’m sure he’s sorry and we know his thing with Jennie wasn’t real,” he elaborates, as though counting items off a shopping list. “She was nice but I don’t know who he was fooling trying to date her. As for how he feels…” He gives Dilara a sympathetic shrug. “That’s only upto you to decide.”
“But what do you think?” Dilara presses.
Yoongi looks slightly surprised that she wants his opinion this badly. “Well… I think he still cares about you. A lot, in fact. I think he’s still in love with you, although I think you’ll have to get him to admit that to you,” he continues, apparently not realising how her heart rams against her ribcage. “But I also didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to do what he did. Going by his actions today, though, I’d say he still really cares about you.”
Dilara says nothing, replaying his words. “Hang on,” she says slowly. “What actions today? Wait, Yoongi - did he ask you to talk to me tonight?” By the way he freezes momentarily, she knows she’s right. “You have got to be joking.”
“Why is that so bad?”
“It’s - it’s the principle of it.”
“What principle?”
“If I wanted to talk to him, I would’ve.”
“And you’re not. He knows that. He said it looked like you had a rough day and since you don’t have your friends here, you might need someone to talk to.” Yoongi shrugs. “Was he wrong?” When she doesn’t answer, he chuckles, gummy smile flashing once more. “Or was he totally right?”
“Shut up,” she mutters, making him snort. “And… no, he wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t totally right either,” she adds, although she doesn’t know what to back that up with.
Yoongi doesn’t even ask. “So stubborn,” he remarks softly, his eyes on the frozen lake.
“Well, do I at least have your word that you won’t tell him what we talked about?”
“Tell who?” he asks innocently.
Dilara gives him a look. “Jungkook’s boyfriend. Can I trust you?” she asks, even as he laughs.
“Of course you can,” he says easily, standing up and offering her a hand. “And, seriously, it’s almost two am. You should sleep.”
She doesn’t argue and takes his hand, trying not to stomp behind him as they walk back to the house. “The grass is really slippery, by the way.”
“What’s that now?”
Dilara stops a few steps behind him as they reach the porch. “You said you saw me kicking a rock and missing. It’s because the grass is really slippery.” She pauses, somewhat conscious of what she must be sounding like. “I don’t miss.”
Yoongi stares at her, his mouth twitching. “Noted,” he says finally, reaching for the door handle and twisting it. “Okay, did you know this locks from the inside?”
She blinks. “Are you telling me we’re locked out here -” She glances at her phone “- twelve hours before the German Grand Prix?”
“Don’t worry,” he says calmly, typing on his phone. “I’m messaging on the group chat. Someone or the other will be awake.” He waits for a moment before chuckling, a little disbelievingly. “Okay, I was right.”
Dilara regards him suspiciously as she hears soft footsteps from inside. “Who is it?”
“Jungkook’s boyfriend, who else?”
“Perfect,” she mutters, as the door swings open to reveal the aforementioned boyfriend, a black beanie over his hair, black glasses and - she realises with a slight shock - the black hoodie she’d returned to him earlier this year. Contrary to what Yoongi made it sound like, Taehyung doesn’t look like he was on the verge of sleep at all.
He asks Yoongi something in Korean, his eyes on Dilara, to which Yoongi murmurs a reply before clapping her on the shoulder and heading inside.
“Thanks,” she mutters to Taehyung, moving to follow Yoongi, when Taehyung stops her by grabbing the edge of her sleeve.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, eyes bigger than ever.
Dilara wants to roll her eyes and tell him that she knows he asked Yoongi to talk to her, but she doesn’t know what purpose that would serve. So after a moment’s hesitation, she nods, gently taking back her hand and going into her room.
—
Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)
