Summary: Roos doesn't get along with Yoongi. But she's intrigued. She's curious alright. Some would say she's tempted. Some would say the same for Yoongi.
Warnings: this content is for mature audiences only.
Tags: Mature themes, (not so good) friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, suggestive sexual themes, drug use, mental health themes, open relationships, emotional cheating, immigrant!yoongi, musicproducer!yoongi, named original character lead, original female character.
Author notes: English is not my first language and I'm not a trained writer, I just wanted to tell a story. There's an older version of this story completely published on Wattpad, but there's little to no edits in that version, so (and in celebration of the Brazilian Portuguese version hitting 25k views in there) - I'm revisiting this story, making some edits and rewriting some parts, but I'm not changing anything in the plot itself. And oh, this story is set in the Netherlands, in a fictional version of the city of Amersfoort, but I'm not Dutch either, so I apologize for any mistakes regarding the Dutch culture.
CHAPTER INDEX
ONE ÷ TWO ÷ THREE ÷ FOUR ÷ FIVE ÷ SIX ÷ SEVEN ÷ EIGHT ÷ NINE ÷ TEN ... NINETY ONE
Summary: Roos doesn't get along with Yoongi. But she's intrigued. She's curious alright. Some would say she's tempted. Some would say the same for Yoongi.
Warnings: this content is for mature audiences only.
Tags: Mature themes, (not so good) friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, suggestive sexual themes, drug use, mental health themes, open relationships, emotional cheating, immigrant!yoongi, musicproducer!yoongi, named original character lead, original female character.
Chapter word count: 741
MASTERLIST ÷ next >>
Author note: I published the masterlist post by accident hahaha, but since it got some notes I guess I should drop the first chapter and just get it out of the way. I'm still in the very early stages of editing this story and I need to figure out a schedule because there're ninety one chapters to this story (although many are on the shorter side) and I really, really don't wanna take 91 weeks to publish it. So I hope I can settle for at least two parts per week once I'm finished with editing the first part of the story. I wonder which days are best for new chapter drops.
I opened the door, already putting the cigarette in my mouth and feeling my pockets for the lighter. I wasn't even thinking, I just needed to get out and take a deep breath, with the help of my best therapist.
From time to time, and more often than I would like to admit, I wonder whether I am making the right choices for my life. Living with generalized anxiety disorder and yet to be in an endless routine of night outs is not so easy and even with everything under control I sometimes feel it: I feel like I need to escape the hustle and bustle, the people leaning against me, the loud music, the enclosed space... just so I don't lose control.
I finally found the lighter in my hoodie pocket, lit my cig and took a deep breath inhaling it at the same time as my mind started to clear.
"Smoking is bad for you, you know?"
Damn it. My sense of calm evaporated as soon as I recognized the familiar voice and felt his eyes on me.
He had this stupid smile on his lips and was leaning against the wall next to the door I had just left. I saw it all as soon as I turned to look at the owner of the voice.
He also smoked a cigarette.
"OK. Thank you for letting me know."
He continued to smile and didn't take his eyes off me. Out of instinct and experience, I moved away. A few steps took me closer to the street and I kept my back to him, curled up by the cold as I tried to enjoy my cigarette in peace. But again, his voice found my ears.
"You should have put your coat on before you came out to smoke."
That tone again.
"Are you my mother?" I asked, unable to hide the irritation and frustration in my voice.
He got the message and said nothing more until he finished his own cigarette, put it out on the wall, turned towards the door and entered without looking back.
I was finally alone.
The night was freezing and I should have put on my coat before coming out for a smoke.
He was not wrong, but at that moment it was not a question of whether he was right or wrong. I went out to find some calm when it became oppressive inside; I had neither the time nor the disposition for meaningless conversation. I wasn’t even able to make meaningful conversations.
It didn't take long for me to finish my fag too and I contemplated lighting another one.
I looked behind me and through the big windows in front of the bar I could see what was going on inside. Everyone was excited, the music was loud enough to be heard from the outside, and I could hear the muffled sound of the conversations that took place over the loud music.
It was not yet late enough for people to start dancing, but neither was it so early that people were completely sober. It was that transition moment in the night, when you can go home well or you can stay and let the night and alcohol be responsible for your choices.
Tonight, I already knew what my choice would be.
I looked at my watch and, checking the time, I decided I wouldn’t light another cigarette. I buried my hands in my hoodie pockets that weren't enough to keep me warm and balanced myself on the curb, taking one step after another.
I looked through the bar window again, shook my head slightly and, taking a deep breath, walked towards the door.
After dodging several groups of people who were distracted enough not to hear me asking permission to pass through, I finally reached the big table in the back of the room, the captive spot where my friends and I sat almost night of the week.
I stopped by the table and they looked at me with interest. I signaled that I would leave and some asked me to stay. Lotte, who was the closest to me, got up to check on me. With a whispered yes, I reassured her.
On the way back to the door, I felt that I was being watched and out of the corner of my eye I saw his eyes on me once again, but I did not turn to meet his gaze.
This feels very back to the roots, as I started this account with BTS fanart :) I feel like I owe a lot to those couple maniac years I had there, I never drew more :D
how is the fandom doing, are y'all still alive? hanging in there? :>
i know we're all super excited for hobi's new music but i want to raise awareness about just who are behind one of the songs
track 3 (lock/unlock) has producer credits from benny blanco, cashmere cat and omer fedi. these three support the occupation of Palestine and the ongoing genocide (see image below)
this should raise alarm bells for ARMY
but what can we do about it?
we need to use our voices to show hybe that we do not want people like this working with bts. people who agree with and promote the deaths of innocent people have no place in art
join us by spreading the images below and remind everyone not to listen to or support at least track 3 of hobi's new album. use the hashtags #HYBEDivestFromZionism #하이브는시오니스트를퇴출하라
for more information on the boycott and how it helps Palestinians please visit the link below
