AHHHHHH

no trouble

“I refuse to believe I got on one knee and asked you to marry me”

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: crack, slight angst, roommates au, enemies to lovers.

summary: living with min yoongi, the salt of the earth, was never part of the plan but what can you do when he threatens to tell everyone the embarrassing secret you both share, that you're both accidently legally married after a weekend in vegas.

warnings: mentions of suggestive behavior, use of cuss words

masterlist

1. quivered in fear

2. remember vegas

3. m*n yoong*

4. sus behavior

5. acting like besties

6. seokjin's fat ass

7. unwanted opinion

8. birthday suit

9. unrealistic behavior

10. poisoned cookies

11. starting SHIT

12. legally married

13. divorce me

14. you'll be in contact with my lawyers

15. jimin's suspicions

16. get over it

17. roomies only

18. wine drunk

19. babysit my fish

20. jealous?? ME??

21. wife material

22. finally divorced

23. sad behavior

24. no trouble

end.

enjoy!

a.n. after a long hiatus your bff is back for this au 😽!!

your girlfriend

pairing: scoups x f!reader, jeonghan x reader

word count: 2.2k

contains: threesome, fingering, intercourse (protected), masturbation (m), cum-tasting (it's brief; i'm so sorry), reader gets leg cramps

a/n: hahahahahahaha. this is so soft for a threesome, i truly indulged myself. tagging @husbandcheol for cheol feels. thanks @underratedlovedone for proofreading! hi @starlightjoong!

"you're doing it wrong"

jeonghan opens his mouth to respond to seungcheol's grumbling, quickly closing it when he sees your boyfriend slide out from behind you. seungcheol nudges him away, taking his place in front of you and massaging your calf.

when seungcheol and you had discussed the idea of bringing someone else into your bedroom for one night, you didn't think it would come to any fruition. your boyfriend gets sulky when you give anyone (even a dog) more attention than him - you had no reason to think he'd be okay with inviting a third person to participate in your activities. it seems that his friend jeonghan is an exception to that.

you were surprised by the offer but readily agreed, trusting both men fully. boundaries were drawn soon enough - the big one being that jeonghan keep his dick in his pants (something you had apologized for, but he had waved it away with a smile, saying he was just happy to be there).

everything was going fantastic until a few minutes ago. jeonghan was much softer than you would've expected, working three fingers into you to get you ready for your boyfriend's cock. it was quite the experience - sitting on the edge of the bed between seungcheol's legs while he pressed soft kisses on your neck, his praises mixing with his friend's.

then your penchant for getting leg cramps during sex bubbled up, and both men froze as your moans turned to yelps. "cramp", you had gritted out, leading your boyfriend to instruct an alarmed jeonghan to massage your calf. it seems jeonghan wasn't doing a good enough job, and seungcheol had now taken over.

"i was doing fine, you know", jeonghan mutters, side-eyeing seungcheol.

"you were too slow", seungcheol doesn't bother looking up, his eyes focused on your face as his fingers work on your muscles, "she's in pain, jeonghan".

"obviously you're faster, you're used to her", jeonghan rolls his eyes, looking at you and adding apologetically, "i'm sorry, angel. i tried".

"it's okay, hannie", you giggle, and his face lights up at the sound, "sorry about - well, this. not exactly what you signed up for".

jeonghan shakes his head and murmurs "it's not a problem" the same time seungcheol looks up and chides "do not apologize, baby", and you can't help but snicker at the situation. you're naked and extremely turned on while both jeonghan and seungcheol are shirtless, and you're all waiting for your stupid cramp to go away.

oh well. atleast jeonghan will remember the night.

"can i kiss you, angel?", jeonghan asks tentatively.

you look to your boyfriend and catch his wink. i'm okay with this if you are, it says.

"yeah", you smile, watching as he picks up your hand in response. he trails soft kisses up your arm to your neck, intertwining his fingers with yours. ever the flirt.

"you're so pretty, angel", he kisses the corner of your mouth, and you can't help but blush under his attention.

"thought you were going to kiss her, jeonghan. not fall in love with her", seungcheol's voice interrupts the tender moment, and you look to your boyfriend to see him shaking his head fondly.

"so i did", jeonghan whispers over you lips, "and i would hate to keep you waiting, angel".

unlike your boyfriend, jeonghan kisses you slowly, teasingly. his tongue fleetingly touches your lips but doesn't go past them, his free hand coming up to touch the side of your neck lightly. the whole thing is a ploy to make you want more, and you do - finally snapping and pulling his head closer, swallowing the triumph chuckle that falls from his lips. you're almost completely immersed in the kiss, and you almost don't notice how your boyfriend's hands have stopped moving on your leg. almost.

"that was nice", jeonghan pulls back and chuckles, lifting your intertwined hands to place a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"yeah", you clear your throat, "nice".

"if the two of you have had your fun", seungcheol grumbles, making you look at him, "is there still pain, baby?"

"no", you move your leg to check, "no, it's fine now".

"okay", he looks at his friend, "jeonghan, hold her from behind".

jeonghan looks like he wants to protest for a second, but he follows - smoothly sliding behind you and wrapping his arms around your body. seungcheol moves to kiss you, his lips hard on yours as his hands weave into your hair, the feeling of his tongue on yours making you moan into the kiss.

"am i better?", he asks after pulling away, bringing you out of your haze.

"huh?", you blink, barely catching jeonghan whisper "seriously?" against your neck.

"that's my girl", your boyfriend smirks, moving to separate your thighs.

"she has to say that, she's your girlfriend", jeonghan nips at your ear, "don't worry, angel. i know who you like better".

"jeonghan", seungcheol chides, inching a hand towards your cunt, "keep her still".

the arms around you tighten as your boyfriend's finger touches your clit, rubbing light circles while his other arm keeps your thigh still. your moans are spurred on by jeonghan's praises in your ear, his hands moving to play with your nipples.

"she likes them pinched", seungcheol offers, his finger now circling your entrance.

"is that so?", jeonghan tugs at your nipples before pinching them lightly, "you like a bit of pain, angel?"

you whine a "yes", your head tipping back to rest against jeonghan's shoulder just as your boyfriend pushes in two fingers in your cunt. they curve in practiced come-hither motions, easily finding the sensitive spot inside you.

"do you like his fingers inside you, angel?", jeonghan asks teasingly, his fingers still on your breasts.

"he asked you a question, baby", seungcheol pipes in when you don't respond, a finger coming to circle your clit, "answer him, or i'll stop".

"yes", you gasp, feeling your orgasm approaching, "yes. please - cheoli - please - "

"come, baby", your boyfriend orders, "now".

you explode, trembling in jeonghan's arms as seungcheol's fingers help you ride out your high. your body goes lax against jeonghan's when you come down, and you shiver when he whispers "so good, angel. so good" in your ear. you watch from lidded eyes as seungcheol pulls out his fingers from you cunt, the digits glistening with your slick.

"want a taste?", his eyes meet his friend's.

jeonghan doesn't answer, choosing to lean forward as seungcheol brings his fingers to the former's mouth. you meet seungcheol's eyes as the sound of jeonghan sucking your slick fills the room, and an involuntary whimper escapes your lips.

"you like that, baby?", seungcheol's wet fingers touch your cheek, "how does she taste, jeonghan?"

"just decadent", jeonghan hums against your skin, "he's so lucky, angel. he gets to taste you whenever he wants".

"yes, i am", seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your lips, "very lucky. baby, do you want to stop now? what do you want to do?"

"want you to fuck me while hannie watches", you answer without hesitation, "if he's okay with it", you add softly.

"oh, i'm more than okay with it", jeonghan responds.

"it's decided, then", seungcheol pulls at the drawstrings on his sweatpants, "jeonghan, back up against the headboard. same position, hold her still".

jeonghan follows the order, coaxing you to move with him. his arms wrap around you while you spread your legs, watching as your boyfriend takes off his remaining clothes and grabs a condom from the nightstand. "good to know you kids are using protection", jeonghan comments, making you giggle as seungcheol rolls his eyes.

"i know he's big, angel", jeonghan comments as the two of you watch seungcheol roll on the latex, "but incase you want to try someone longer - "

"jeonghan", seungcheol growls.

"hey, i mean no harm", jeonghan's voice is conciliatory, but you can hear his smile, "just letting her know she has options".

seungcheol closes his eyes and swears, seemingly searching for patience.

"don't let him bother you, cheoli", you murmur soothingly, reaching for your boyfriend's hand, "and you", you turn to look at jeonghan, "stop poking him".

"but it's so fun", he protests, taking in your narrowed eyes, "fine, fine. i'll stop bothering your cheoli".

"will you please fuck me now?", you turn and pout at seungcheol, watching as his eyes soften, "please?"

"ofcourse, baby", his hands caress your thighs before lifting them up, exposing your cunt, "feeling empty, mm?"

"yeah", you whimper when he slaps his cock against your cunt, feeling your blood rush at jeonghan's low curses, "cheol - please".

"take a deep breath, baby", he positions the head against your entrance, "jeonghan?"

"i know", the arms around you tighten.

you moan as seungcheol pushes his cock into you slowly, his eyes on your face to look for any signs of discomfort. you feel jeonghan press soft kisses on the side of your head as you close your eyes and try to get used to the stretch, clenching around seungcheol's cock at the praises both men murmur at you.

"i'm good now", you breathe, "you can move. please".

seungcheol pecks your lips softly before pulling out and thrusting back in, both of you moaning at the sensation. he fucks into you at a frustratingly slow speed, not giving into your pleas.

"he's a tease, isn't he?", jeonghan's voice is slightly uneven, his cock digging against your back, "if it was me, i would give you whatever you wanted, angel".

seungcheol thrusts in sharply, increasing his speed suddenly like you've been begging him to. maybe you should invite jeonghan more often.

"yeah, it's not you, jeonghan", he keeps up the speed, groaning through his retort, "it's me. isn't that right baby?"

you mewl at his possessive words, whining his name when he brings a finger to your clit.

"answer him, angel", jeonghan murmurs, pinching your nipples.

"yes - ah”, your eyes roll back as seungcheol's fingers quicken, your high approaching at the assault, "yours, cheoli. just - yours - please - "

"wanna come, baby?", your boyfriend grunts, "go ahead. milk my cock".

his words are enough to make you fall off the edge and you explode around his cock, watching as he thrusts in a few more times before his hips stutter, a long-drawn moan escaping his lips. your hands rest on his skin as you lean against jeonghan, your pants filling up the room.

"well, that was something", jeonghan breaks the silence, leading you and seungcheol to chuckle.

"told you, you won't regret it", your boyfriend gives you a brief kiss before getting up to discard the condom, while jeonghan slides from behind you to grab the bottle of water from the nightstand, handing it to you with a small smile.

"how you feeling, baby?", seungcheol wraps his arms around you, accepting the bottle from your hand, "you okay?"

"yeah", you look at jeonghan, who is scrolling through his phone, pointedly ignoring the two of you.

"what is it?", seungcheol whispers in your ear.

"cheoli", you whisper back, "he didn't come. look, he's hard".

"i see", he hums contemplatively, "you want him to, baby? i don't mind. you wanna ask him?"

"okay", you murmur.

"hannie", the man in question looks up with a smile, and you feel suddenly shy under his gaze, "want you to feel good too".

"i'm okay, angel", he soothes, "i had fun".

"she means she wants to see you jerk off", seungcheol supplies helpfully, grinning when you whine at his phrasing, "i said i'm fine with it, as long as you are".

"oh", an uncharacteristic blush adorns jeonghan's cheeks, "well. if that's what you want, angel".

seungcheol holds you from behind while moving you to face jeonghan, watching as he takes out his cock and runs his fingers on it slowly, closing his eyes and swearing softly.

he was right, you can't help but think, he's longer.

you look down when you feel strong hands pushing your thighs apart, whimpering when seungcheol runs his fingers lightly up your cunt.

"i know, baby. i know", he whispers when you whine, "let's give jeonghan something to look at, mm? see how much he likes it, mm?"

you clench when you catch jeonghan's reverent expression, his eyes fixed on your cunt while he thrusts his cock into his hand.

"you like how he looks, baby?", your boyfriend coos in your ear, his finger on your clit getting you closer to the edge, "tell him, baby. tell him he looks pretty".

"so pretty", you whine, feeling your third orgasm closing in, unable to look away from jeonghan's cock, "you're so pretty, hannie".

"fuck", jeonghan's hand stutters as he comes, and the visual is enough to set off your own orgasm. one of seungcheol's arms keeps you in place while the other helps you ride out your high, his lips whispering praises in your ear while jeonghan watches with lidded eyes.

"wanna have a taste?", jeonghan asks after both of you have calmed down a little, holding out his cum-covered hand.

"just this once", seungcheol sighs when you look to him.

you take the offered fingers in your mouth and grimace at the bitter taste. you've never been fond of the taste of a semen, but you've gotten somewhat used to your boyfriend's.

"aughhh", you groan, closing your eyes out of exhaustion, "you taste better, cheoli".

a sleepy smile slips on your face when jeonghan's indignant voice exclaims "she has to say that, she's your girlfriend!"

1K notes View Post

agustdyoons

1 year ago

Pick You Up

Max Verstappen x reader

Masterlist

Summary: when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls. Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: alcohol, intoxication, maybe an unhealthy relationship with alcohol??, mentions of Max’s shitty childhood, incorrect taylor swift lyrics

It’s 1am, and your phone is buzzing on the nightstand. You groan and shove your face into the pillow. You were having such a nice dream. Something about an island and a very attractive man. You let the phone ring until it stops, and then you hold your breath. Maybe it was a butt dial. Maybe it’s not what you think.

The buzzing starts again, and you blindly slam your hand onto the nightstand, grabbing for it. You swipe to answer without even looking at the contact. You already know who it is. Or at the very least, who they’re calling you about. It’s never anyone else.

“Max needs a ride,” a friend of his says.

You’re already rolling out of bed. “Yeah. Where?”

You could complain, you suppose, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket. You could ask them to find literally anyone else, or beg them to have a designated driver for once, but instead you just slip your shoes on. You rub the sleep from your eyes and grab a Red Bull on the way out the door. Someone sends you an address from a number you don’t even have saved in your phone. Worry claws at your chest.

The truth is, you’ll never complain about Max calling you in the middle of the night, because if he stopped calling you’d worry about who he was relying on. Max is… popular. He’s got a lot of people trying to ride his coattails. He gets invited to events and people buy him drinks and offer him things and then it’s 1am and he’s too drunk to get home on his own. And then he calls you. Or, more often, someone calls you for him.

You pull up in front of the club, and Max is already outside, stumbling on clumsy feet. He lurches towards your car when he sees it, which is a relief, because you hadn’t exactly wanted to get out of the car. You find yourself resenting whoever he was out with for leaving him all alone, but he opens the door and climbs in and you plaster a smile onto your face.

“Hi, schatje,” he slurs, and you muffle a laugh into your shoulder.

“Hi, Maxie,” you say.

This is the only time he calls you things like that. It’s also the only time you can call him Maxie without earning yourself a warning glare, or worse, an elbow to the rib cage. You’ve known him for years, and yet it’s only when he’s wasted that he doesn’t mind the nickname.

“Seatbelt,” you remind him.

He nods and tugs at the belt. You end up having to help him buckle- that happens about 70% of the time. His fingers fumble with the latch as you do so, and he lets out a little huff when you brush his hand away. Once he’s all set, you pat his shoulder lightly and lean back into your seat.

“I’m drunk,” he warns you.

“I know,” you answer.

“So no crazy driving. I don’t want to be sick in your very nice car.”

You laugh and cock your head at him. “This morning you called this car a shitbox.”

He nods. “It is. But it is your shitbox.”

You laugh again, putting the car into drive. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

He rambles the whole drive to his apartment, about all the people he was out with tonight and what they did and who they did. Drunk Max is a bit of a gossip, and his gossiping to you won’t get him in trouble, so he takes full advantage of it. You listen eagerly the entire time, though you keep your eyes focused on the road. He’s not the most drunk you’ve ever seen him, still too drunk to be in a cab or an Uber by himself but coherent enough that the journey up to his apartment shouldn’t be too difficult. You park your car in his parking lot and climb out.

Max is halfway out of his seat when you come around to meet him. You take his hand and help him the rest of the way up. He stumbles a bit, laughing as you catch him. Then he throws his arm around your shoulder and follows you to the elevator.

His head bumps into yours in the process. You lean into the weight of him, the two of you standing like a badly built lean to. If one of you topples, the other will too. You try not to think about that too much.

You stay the night, the way you always do when this happens. Because the only thing a hungover Max hates more than the sunlight is waking up to an empty apartment. You’ll be there in the morning to take care of him. He’ll promise he won’t do it again.

By this time next week, he’ll be out at a club, and you’ll have the volume on your phone turned up.

…..

The next time someone calls you on Max’s behalf, it’s someone you actually know. It’s 2am this time, and your eyes are closed. You’re drifting in that space between consciousness and dreams. Your ringtone almost becomes a part of a half dream before you realize what it is. You turn the phone over. NoRizzz, it reads. You think Max added the contact for you.

You answer. “Hi, Lando. S’it Max?” You ask.

“I swear to god I lost track of him for one second-“ Lando rushes out.

You pause halfway out of bed, feeling a jolt of worry at the frantic tone in his voice. “Lando?”

“He’s gone, he-“ He sounds panicked. “I turned around and he’s-“

“Did you call him?”

“Of course I called him-“ Lando scoffs. “Look, I wouldn’t be so worried if I hadn’t already been thinking about having you pick him up-“

“Hey, hey, slow down,” you say, though your heart is racing as you head for the door. “Where are you? How long has it been since you lost him?”

“We’re at Jimmyz, it’s been a half hour,” Lando admits. “I didn’t want to bother you, but-“

A half hour is a long time for Max. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He could’ve walked, or taken a cab, or… anything. Sober Max is great at self preservation. Drunk Max is easily persuaded. You’ve used it to your advantage more than you’d like to admit. Not in any bad way, just- Max, sing karaoke with me! Max, come dance with me! Max, we should order pizza!

You head for the front door. “Okay. It’s okay. I’ll come meet you, and then-“

You swing the door open and nearly scream when something heavy tumbles into your apartment. Someone, actually, upon further inspection. It’s Max, lit only by the dim hallway light and a beam from the kitchen light that you always leave on. He’s blinking up at you from the floor, a soft smile on his face. He has his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s cold. His skin is damp with sweat.

“Never mind, I found him,” you say into the phone.

“What? How?” Lando asks, bewildered.

“He was sitting in front of my door,” you answer as you crouch down. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, and Max smiles. “Must’ve taken a cab or something.”

“I walked,” Max admits.

That explains the sweat. That also tells you that Lando has lied to you- Max has been gone much longer than a half hour if he’s made his way here on foot. You choose not to call the other driver out on it, though. You want them to call you about things like this. If you chew him out, Lando will be less likely to do so.

“So he’s okay?” Lando asks.

“He’s fine,” you assure him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up and then start working on getting Max all the way into the apartment. He’s not much help. You manage to get his legs inside and then you close the door behind him. You’ll work on getting him out of the hallway next. For now, you sit down on the floor next to him.

“You walked here?” You ask.

He nods. “Missed you.”

You snort out a laugh. “You could’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up.”

He shrugs and shuts his eyes. “Didn’t want to bug you.”

“So you camped out in front of my door,” you say.

“Yes. But then you didn’t have to come pick me up.”

“I’ll always pick you up,” you say, brushing your thumb against his temple. “That’s what friends do.”

When he opens his eyes, they’re glassy. Your breath hitches. Max doesn’t get teary often, doesn’t get emotional often. Something aches in your chest. You rub your thumb over his cheekbone. He blinks once, twice, lashes tangled together.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yeah.” He sounds so small when he says it. “Just. Thanks.”

There are these small moments, when Max shows a vulnerable side. These are the moments you think of when people spread vitriol towards him on the internet and ask how you could possibly be friends with him. They make you love him even more, and they make you resent the adults who were around him when he was growing up.

You’ve seen pictures of little Max, shown to you with funny anecdotes and teasing smiles. But when you look at them, and when you see him like this, you can’t find any of it funny. All you can think of is the other stories you’ve heard about his childhood. All you can wonder is how someone could’ve done those things to him. And then you wonder how despite it all, he ended up with such a kind soul.

Max is the one who brings you soup when you’re sick. He brings you trinkets from every country he goes to- the magnets fill the door of your fridge. Max sends you pictures of dogs he meets on the street even though he’s a cat person. He flies you out to races when you’ve had a bad week and buys you good pasta and better tequila. Max has a heart the size of a whole continent. People keep trying to chip away at it. You hate them for it.

So you take a moment to brush the tears from his cheeks. You don’t ask him why he’s crying, or tell him it’ll be okay. You just sit there on the floor with him in your hallway and wait for him to be ready.

Eventually, you get him up off the floor and drag him into your bedroom. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he gets a good night’s sleep in a real bed. You try to leave the room, but he grabs onto your wrist.

“Stay?” He asks, eyelids barely open.

You hum and brush the hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“M’sure,” he says. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

You nod in understanding. You don’t even bother pointing out that he’s on your side of the bed. He’s too far gone to get him to roll over. You just climb over him and pull the blankets back and then tuck yourself in. You keep a respectable distance from him.

You know in the morning you’ll wake up to his arm around your middle and his face buried in your neck. You know because it happens every time you share a bed. Max will act like there’s nothing weird about it, will thank you for taking care of him, and be on his way before lunchtime.

You’ll crawl back into bed and curl up on your side, unsure of if you love or hate the fact that the sheets still smell like him.

…..

Charles calls you from Qatar.

You answer. “Charles, I cannot pick him up. I’m in another country.”

“Yes, I’ve told him that about a billion times,” Charles says. “He is very stubborn, you know.”

Something dawns on you as you sit up against your headboard. For some reason, you’ve always assumed that other people are the ones choosing to call you. That even when it’s someone who doesn’t know you, they’re getting your information from the emergency contact info in his phone. But this… Charles seems to be suggesting that Max has asked him to call you.

“Is he okay?” You ask.

Charles laughs. “He’s fine. He is a world champion, again. You know.”

You do know. You called and congratulated him right after the race. You can still hear the shake in his voice, the yelling of his team behind him. It’d made your heart ache, made you sad you weren’t there with him.

“Yeah,” you say. “You both still have to drive tomorrow, you know.”

“I do know, which is why I’m hoping you can help me,” Charles says. “We’re in his hotel room. His phone is dead, I guess? He came to use mine, so I brought him back here. He’s lost his charger.”

“There’s a spare one in his backpack,” you tell Charles. “In the small pocket.”

You hear the zipper and Charles’ amused laugh. “Did you pack his bag for him?”

“I helped,” you admit. “Let me talk to him and I’ll see if I can talk him down?”

Charles makes a noise of agreement. There’s rustling, then a thud. More rustling. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Then, Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Max,” you answer. “I thought you were going to take it easy tonight.”

“I am a world champion,” he says, so matter of fact.

In the background, you hear Charles groan.

“Yes, a world champion who still has to do a race tomorrow,” you remind him.

“I know. Can’t believe I got it in the sprint. A sprint I didn’t even win,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let the rookie win the race tomorrow. I’m the champion.”

“I’m going to throttle him,” Charles says, loud enough or close enough for you to hear. “I think in turn one I will run him into the wall.”

“Tell Charles if he hurts one hair on your head I’ll fly to Qatar and throttle him myself,” you tell Max.

Max relays the message. Charles is quiet after that.

“Doesn’t matter how you won it, yeah?” You remind Max. “You still worked just as hard to get there.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say with a laugh. “Charles has plugged your phone in. Make sure you turn it on and then go to sleep.”

You call his hotel and have electrolyte drinks and breakfast sent up the next morning, along with a bottle of painkillers. He texts you a photo of all of it along with a thank you message. When he wins the race, even hungover, you’re not the least bit surprised.

…..

When Max calls you at 11:00 pm, your first thought is huh. That’s early. You answer on the third ring, already looking for your keys. You wonder who it’ll be this time. A friend you know, or an unknown voice of someone he’s only met tonight.

“Schatje?” Max asks through the speaker.

You nearly drop the phone. “Max?”

“What, you don’t have my number saved?” He asks.

“No, of course I do, s’just- not usually you who ends up calling me, even from your phone.”

You think you hear him sniffle. Something twists in your chest. Before you can scramble to apologize, he’s speaking.

“Yeah. Um.” He sighs. “Huh.”

You can hear it in his voice, in the way the words seem to stick in his throat. Something’s wrong. You climb off the couch, headed for the door. “Tell me where you are, Max.”

He sniffs. “No, it’s uh- I don’t know why I called-“

“Max,” you repeat as you shut the front door behind you. “Where are you?”

He gives in and tells you he’s at some hotel bar. You recognize it and head down the stairs. You keep him on the line even as you start the car, as you pull out onto the road. He’s mumbling something about how he’ll be fine, about how you don’t have to come get him. Both of you know you’re already on the way.

You have to go in this time. For a moment you think about asking who else he’s with, and hanging up and calling them. But you don’t want to lose contact, so you park the car and head inside. You’re in a hoodie and sweatpants, a pair of slippers on your feet. Nobody bats an eye.

You find him in a back hallway, squeezed into a corner. Your heart crumples at the sight of him. You’re sure your face does too. He’s teary and curled in on himself. He looks so small. You love him, you worry for him, you hate this version of him. Not that you could ever really hate him. It’s just that he looks so vulnerable, so unlike himself.

As much as you want to get him out of there, as much as it would probably be the right move, you sit down next to him instead. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and pull him into your side until his head is against yours. You don’t ask him what’s wrong. He’ll tell you eventually. It might take a while- sometimes a few days. You always give him time. For now, you just sit in the hallway with him. You meet him where he’s at.

He tells you later that he suddenly found himself alone in the bar. After days straight of only being alone when he went to sleep, person after person wanting to celebrate his championship, he’d been alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d felt like he was suffocating until that moment.

“I was one of the people celebrating,” you remind him as he clings to you.

“But you aren’t suffocating me,” he says. “You’re like… clean air.”

He sleeps in your bed that night. You sleep next to him, not even bothering to argue about it. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breaths and the weight of his hand on your back.

When you wake up in the morning, he pretends he’s fine. You let him.

…..

Drunk Max is an overly honest Max. He’ll tell you anything and everything. So when you’re walking him home one night, his arm over your shoulder, gin on his breath, you’re expecting to learn some things. What you weren’t expecting, however, is for him to lean close, his lips against your ear, and tell you he loves you.

The odd thing is the way he says it. He leans close and tells you he loves you like he’s talking to someone else. He says “hey, you know-“ then he says your name- and then he says, “you know I love her?”

You shove at his side. “Yeah, I love you too, you dummy.”

He shakes his head, bumping his forehead against your temple. “No, I love her.”

Your heart stops at the way he says it. At the meaning he’s insinuating. Your feet fumble under you, but you manage to keep both of you upright.

“Max,” you say in a warning tone. “You’re drunk.”

“Mm,” he hums. “Drunk in love. Love drunk? Like that song she likes- got love drunk-“

He doesn’t realize he’s talking to you. He likely won’t remember this. You cut him off before he breaks into slightly incorrect Taylor Swift lyrics on the sidewalk. “That’s nice, Max. Why don’t you tell her?”

He shrugs. “Can’t.”

He doesn’t elaborate further, and you miss your chance to prod him about it when he trips over a bump in the sidewalk and nearly sends you both flying. After that, you keep your focus on getting him up to his apartment safely. You shove him into the bathroom in his apartment and tell him to brush his teeth. Then you stand in the hallway and press your hands over your face.

Can’t. Why not? Does he mean it? Did he say the wrong name? He won’t remember it tomorrow, you know that. Do you bring it up? Maybe you should just forget about it. He obviously doesn’t want you to know. And even if it is true, and he does have feelings for you, it would never work.

He stumbles out of the bathroom and presses a messy, toothpaste-y kiss to your forehead. That leaves your brain spinning even worse than it was before. You follow him to the bedroom and tuck him in. The cats glare at you as you disturb the blankets.

“You’ll stay, right?” He asks, tugging on your arm. He seems to know who you are now. “Please?”

You sigh and agree, climbing into bed next to him. He sighs happily and rolls towards you. He slings an arm around your waist, and you hold your breath when he presses his cheek to your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” he says, already half asleep.

“Goodnight,” you echo.

You lay awake and stare at the ceiling for at least an hour, trying not to listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Trying not to think about him admitting that he loves you. Trying not to think about him calling himself love drunk. Trying not to think about him at all, which is difficult with him right there.

You wonder if he really meant it. You want him to mean it, you realize. You tilt your head to look at him- you can only see the top of his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. God, you want him to mean it. There’s no way he does, but you want it so badly your whole body aches with it.

Sassy walks up to the head of the bed and curls up right next to you. You run your fingers over her fur. Finally, then, you’re able to fall asleep.

…..

It’s not often that Max is the one to pick you up from a bar. It’s every once in a blue moon. You’re much more responsible, you plan ahead. You have a ride home, or you don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk, or you plan to stay with a friend who lives closer to wherever you’re going.

It’s not often, but it does happen. Which is how you find yourself in the bar bathroom, phone pressed to your ear, praying he picks up. There’s a good chance he won’t. He’s definitely not sitting around, waiting for you to call like you always are when he goes out. If he doesn’t pick up you’ll have to call someone else, but you won’t even know where to begin.

It’s only when you hear his voice that you realize you’re not sure he’s even in Monaco.

“Hello?” He says. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just- what country are you in?”

“What?” He asks. You can hear rustling in the background. “Is this some sort of code? Is someone-“

“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Monaco,” he answers, still sounding unsure. “At home. Where are you?”

“Monaco. A bar bathroom,” you answer. “Any chance you’d come pick me up? My designated driver met a guy.”

“Not a very good designated driver,” he says with a scoff.

“Says the guy who never has one,” you retort.

Max laughs and doesn’t argue. “Send me your location. I’ll come get you.”

Max gets there far too quickly to have been driving at a reasonable speed. He insists that you wait inside rather than meeting him out on the sidewalk, and says he’ll call you when he gets there. The phone rings, so you step outside. You’re thankful once again for his collection of cars and his tinted windows- nobody seems to have realized it’s him. He leans over and opens the door for you, and you climb inside. He already has the heated seat on for you, and he hands you a bottle of water after you sit down.

“Drink,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.

You roll your eyes but do as he says anyways. The city is a blur of lights outside your window, though you know Max isn’t speeding. He always drives carefully with you in the car, no matter how many times you beg him to go fast. You sink lower in the leather seat.

His eyes flicker over to you. “Did you have a good time?”

You shrug. “Yeah, till all my friends ditched me,” you say. “They found guys to hook up with.”

You see Max frown out of the corner of your eye. “And you didn’t? The men in this club must be blind.”

You pick at the hem of your dress. “Maybe I didn’t want to hook up with anyone. Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?” He asks.

He keeps his eyes trained on the road. You turn your head to look at him. You’re at a stoplight, and it paints his face red. You study the slope of his nose, the jut of his jaw. You, you want to say. I’m looking for you. You think of him the last time you picked him up, how he said he loved you. Called himself love drunk. And then you think of when you asked him why he hadn’t told you. Can’t.

So instead, you shrug. Max turns and looks at you, then shrugs in response. You pout, knowing he’s mocking you. His eyes trace over your face, then over the rest of you. You wonder if he’s relying on how drunk you are to make you forget this- hoping you won’t realize or remember him checking you out. He reaches into the backseat and comes back with a large dark hoodie.

“Here,” he says. “You must be cold.”

The light turns green when the sweatshirt is half over your head- you only know because you feel the vehicle lurch into motion. You squeak, and Max laughs and lays a hand on your leg to steady you. His palm is warm against your bare skin.

When you pop your head back out and shove your arms through the sleeves, you expect him to let go. He doesn’t. His hand stays there, a steady presence, the whole ride to his place.

He hasn’t even asked if you want to stay at his apartment- he doesn’t need to, he already knows what your answer would be. Plus, you’re a bit too drunk to really be left on your own. He leads you up to his door, keeping his hand on your lower back to steady your wobbling steps. You’d tried to kick your heels off in the lobby, but Max had insisted you keep them on. You take them off as soon as you walk in his front door, though, sighing in relief. You stumble over to the couch as he sheds his shoes and jacket. By the time he walks into the living room, you’re curled up in the corner, already under a blanket, face pressed against one of his throw pillows. Max clicks his tongue.

“Come on. Up,” he says, tugging at your shoulder. “You should change your clothes and eat something.”

You groan and reach out to wrap your arm around his neck. “I’m comfy. Come cuddle. Comfy.”

He sighs. “We can cuddle. If you change your clothes and eat something.”

The offer leaves you a bit dumbfounded, because Max isn’t much of a cuddler. It’s pretty likely that he’s lying just to appease you, to get you to follow his instructions. So you continue to lay there, trying to pull him in. When you don’t budge, Max huffs, plants his hands on the couch behind you, and straightens up. He does it before you can loosen your grip, so you go with him almost accidentally. He pulls you off the couch and grabs your hips, helping you to stand up.

“There,” he says, as you sigh and lean heavily on him. “Step one. Clothes.”

He leads you to his room, where you eagerly take the opportunity to sit down on his bed. He turns and begins digging through his drawers. You flop back onto the bed. One of the cats paws at your ankles- you don’t bother looking to see which one. Max throws clothing onto your stomach.

“I’ll go make you food,” he says.

It takes you far too long to find the motivation to shed the hoodie and dress and trade them out for whatever clothes Max has left for you. Eventually, though, you do it. He’s given you one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that are definitely yours, likely left behind whenever you stayed over last. You pull the hoodie back over your head and leave the dress on the floor. It’s only when you remember that Max is awful at cooking that you scramble towards the kitchen.

He’s putting perfectly cooked ramen into bowls. Frankly, it’s hard to mess up ramen, but you’re relieved either way. He smiles at the sight of you, and you think about telling him all over again. The last time you were drunk, you said you loved me. I love you too. We should talk about that. Can’t. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Thanks,” you say, sitting down at the counter.

You never do get the cuddle he promised. You fall asleep there, forehead pressed to the granite, and Max carries you to the guest room and tucks you in. You swear you feel his lips against your forehead as you fall asleep. But that’s probably just a dream.

…..

By the time you’re in Vegas for the Grand Prix, you haven’t been drunk with Max in months. It’s been one or the other, not both. But since you’re there, Max drags you along to every event he gets invited to. You’re two drinks deep by the time Max makes it to the afterparty. He catches up quickly.

You sneak a sip of his gin and tonic and recoil at the taste. He gives you a blank stare in return.

“You’ve never liked it,” he says. “I don’t know why you keep trying.”

You shrug. “Exposure therapy. And my drink’s empty.”

He gives you a look that’s a mixture of what you think is exasperation and fondness. It’s his signature look when he’s dealing with you on nights out.

“We can fix that,” he says, as he reaches for your hand.

He leads you up to the bar, fingers knit with yours. He doesn’t let go like he normally would. It’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you in a crowd, especially when you’re drunk, but this is different. He leans over the bar and gives your order to the bartender, who nods and moves to make the drink. Max keeps his hand in yours. He finally lets go when you get your drinks, and you take a sip while you look up at him.

His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, blue eyes wide, and you’re trying desperately to read his mind. You want him to let you in so badly.

You end up at a table with him and his driver friends, squished in the booth between Max and Charles. You sip your drink and listen to them talk about race strategy and tires and Vegas in general. Max downs his drink, and someone brings him another. You do the same, and he gets them to bring you one too. And the cycle continues.

This means that by the time he turns to you and says, “we should leave now,” you’re pleasantly drunk, and you’d probably do anything he asked, really.

He slips out of the booth and pulls you along with him, ignoring the people who call his name. He has both of your jackets in his arm as he weaves through the crowds, holding onto your hand. It’s nice, to be here with him, to be a part of it instead of sitting and waiting for a phone call to come pick him up.

As the two of you stumble out onto the sidewalk, you tug on the back of his shirt. “Hey. Who are we going to call to come take care of us? We’re both drunk.”

Max turns and laughs, and then he’s quick to steady you when you stumble on the pavement. “We will take care of each other.”

You nod clumsily, leaning into the feeling of his hands on your hips. “Okay. Yeah. Nice.”

Max tugs you close, tucking you under his arm as he starts to walk down the street. “Lovely.”

“Simply lovely,” you say teasingly. “Where are we going?”

“The hotel,” he says. “I am sick of people.”

You deflate a bit at that. You’re not ready to say goodnight, to say goodbye, to be alone. You want to spend more time with him- it’s why you’re here in Vegas. Max seems to sense your change in mood and squeezes your shoulder, craning his head to look down at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Do you want to stay out? We can find another club, I just thought maybe we could order room service, or pizza, and play a game or…”

He trails off as your eyes go wide, the hurt in your chest melting away. He cocks his head.

“I thought you were sick of me, too,” you say, and you bite your lower lip.

Max frowns deeply. The lights behind his head are blurry in your vision. You wonder if you’re just drunk, or if you’re tearing up. The way he swipes his thumb under your eye tells you it’s the latter.

“No,” he says, gently. “Never.”

Your lip wobbles. You shrug. Max seems to understand, and he just squeezes your shoulder again and keeps walking. You try to get your emotions in check. You have to, really, need to be normal about this. He’s just your friend. That’s all he wants to be.

“We could go do karaoke,” he suggests, pointing at a sign down the road.

He’s trying to distract you. It’s working.

You laugh and elbow him. “You’re an awful singer,” you tease.

“Am not!” He says, his tone full of mock offense. “Here, I’ll-“

You’re expecting him to break out into Viva Las Vegas, like he had at the end of the race over the radio. You’re bracing yourself for it, ready to grimace and cover your ears even though he isn’t really that bad of a singer. What he starts singing surprises you, makes you stumble a bit over your own feet.

“Welcome to New York!” He sings, and you stare at him, wide eyed. “They’ve been waiting for me- welcome-“

“Stop, stop,” you laugh, elbowing him as he attracts stares from people passing by. “We’re in Vegas, not New York! And you always get the lyrics wrong-“

“I am very good with lyrics,” he says, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not, you sang the other one wrong, too,” you tease. “You said got love drunk, it’s supposed to be got love struck. Remember, in Monaco?”

He stops in his tracks, his arm still around you, and stares. You stare right back. You frown and tilt your head at him, mirroring his earlier reaction.

“You remember that?” He asks, quietly.

“I was sober, Max,” you answer. “You remember that?”

He nods, lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes are wide, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if I dreamed it. And you never said anything about what I told you, so…”

That’s when you remember the other part of that conversation, all those nights ago. I love her. Why don’t you tell her? Can’t. You swallow tightly, hands hanging at your sides.

“You didn’t seem to know you were talking to me,” you explain. “So I figured it wasn’t something you really wanted me to know.”

Max blinks, then nods. “I didn’t. Because you don’t feel the same.”

Your stomach twists violently, and your chest follows suit. “I never said that.”

His stare is so intense you feel like you’re seconds away from bursting into flame. “But if you did, you would’ve said something after that night.”

You shake your head. “I asked why you didn’t just tell me and you just said, can’t. You wouldn’t explain any further. I don’t know, Max, I just. I figured you had a reason. Like, maybe…”

“Maybe what?” He asks, still staring at you.

“I’m just me, Max,” you say, pressing your hands over your face. “I’m just your friend. People get crushes all the time but it doesn’t mean you want to be with me, you’re a fucking world champion and I-“

He reaches up with both hands and grabs your wrists gently. He pulls your hands from your face. There’s a smile on his lips that leaves you teetering between relief and apprehension.

“But I didn’t say I had a crush on you,” he says, brows raised. “I said I love you.”

You sigh heavily and try to pull your hands back to your face. He doesn’t let you. You’re looking anywhere other than his eyes. Anywhere other than him, really. He lets go of your wrists and then cups your face in his hands before you can move.

“Hey,” he says. “I said can’t because I thought there was no way you’d feel the same.”

You stare at him, wide eyed, as his thumbs sweep soft circles over your cheeks. Suddenly, everything comes into focus, bright and blinding and stark. The Las Vegas strip is glowing all around you, but none of the lights are as bright as him.

“I do,” you murmur, and he lights up even brighter, somehow, when he smiles. “Fuck, Max-“

He kisses you right there, where anyone could see, in the middle of one of the busiest sidewalks you’ve ever been on. Nobody seems to notice or care, nobody seems to understand that your whole world is shifting. His lips are warm against yours, he tastes like gin, and he holds onto you like he’s trying to be so, so careful. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck and thread fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

He only pulls away when someone whistles at the two of you. He’s grinning wide, hands still cradling your face, and you have to fight not to pull his lips back to yours.

“Come on,” he says, slightly out of breath.

You don’t ask where you’re going. You just let him lead you away. You’re so in love with him, you think you’d probably follow him anywhere. It’s terrifying and relieving all at the same time.

…..

A week later, in Abu Dhabi, you ask him if he wants to go out after the race. There’s a billion parties he could choose from.

“No,” he says, wrinkling his nose up at the idea. “I’m good.”

You elbow him lightly, raising your brows. “All those parties you called me to pick you up from, and now I’m here and you don’t even want to go out? You don’t want to celebrate your season?”

He smirks as he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you along with him through the paddock. “I want to celebrate, but we don’t need to go out to do that. I have better ideas.”

His hand slips lower from your hip and squeezes at your ass. You yelp and look around frantically, hoping nobody noticed. He’s grinning with pride.

“Party animal Max Verstappen wants to stay in,” you tease. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He shrugs, leans his head close to yours, and then admits, finally, “it was never about the parties. It was more about who was picking me up from them.”

You smile against his shoulder and try not to let it go to your head. He smiles against your forehead and tells you that he loves you for what must be the millionth time in the past week. You say it right back, drunk on the feeling of it.

a/n: thank you for readinnnnngggg!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

2K notes View Post

agustdyoons

3 years ago

Without You (I Can’t Breath) (Reader x Hoseok)

Hoseok thinks that home is a place you can plot on a map. But he realizes that living by himself is lonely. he gets a new place and puts out an ad for a roommate- What he doesn’t expect is you- someone who has no knowledge of BTS- and he’ll do anything to keep it that way.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

tags: Domestic love, lonely!Hoseok, roommates for lovers aU, secrets, mild angst, sooooo much fluff, literally I gagged while writing this several times. implied smut. Hurt/Comfort

A/N: I wrote this instead of studying, I hope you’re happy because I’m probably going to fail because of this fucking au love me

Wordcount: 3.4k

-Hoseok and the rest of Bangtan finally decide to get their own places- and its one of the conditions of the renewal of their contract because a few of the guys have significant others now.

- He passes up an opportunity to get a three bedroom with Tae and Jungkook, and decides to live by himself like Yoongi.

- At first he decides to get a big old nice apartment on the top of a sky scrapper.

- Its modern and lit up, and everything he ever dreamed of having when he was a trainee.

- But it gets really lonely really quick.

- It starts to feel like a cage in the sky- while everyone comes home to something- all he has is his view of the city and floor to ceiling windows that will never open.

- He’s gone for ages- he can’t even fill it with greenery let alone have a pet.

- His penthouse doesn’t really feel like a home- after half a year he gives up one it.

- He caves and asks Yoongi if he would like a roommate

- “Hell no- we finally get to have quiet to our selves dude- enjoy it before you meet someone and decide to have a family.”

- So he decides to move into this quiet space- but in a busier more grungy part of town.

- A two bedroom above a coffee shop with a wrap around balcony that’s a little ways away from Bighit.

- In a town where there are mostly bars and restaurants- the other apartments on the street catering to families or people that can barely make rent.

- He loves it more than his penthouse- how he can sit out on his street faceting balcony and people watch until he feels like sleeping.

- It always smells like baked goods from the café below,

- The little bathroom leaves a lot to be desired and theirs a stain on the ceiling from water damage but he loves it.

- It’s still too lonely though. The foot traffic only lasts till 1- which is nothing when he doesn’t get home until 12; 30 even on his less busy days. And he still doesn’t feel like he’s home.

- After a drunken night and a little convincing from Seokjin he puts an advertisement in the local paper for his spare room.

- He’s almost forgotten about it when he gets an email a few weeks later.

- And he meets you in the café downstairs. A sweet student a few years younger than him looking to get their first place away from their parents.

- He was worried that you would recognize him- that you could be a fan or at least know his face- but when he takes off his facemask in a moment of boldness he doesn’t get any reaction.

- And he realizes that shit he’s lucked out- because you definably don’t know who he is- or who bts are.

- You take a peek at his apartment after a nice conversation and almost swoon- because how the fuck is the rent so low when that place is so nice- and hella cute.

- He watches as you compliment the bathroom and the crown molding- which he hadn’t even noticed. And he realizes how disconnected he’s gotten from the general public.

- You don’t think much of Hoseok at first- maybe that he’s a little cagey and more than a little secretive- he wears facemasks everywhere and you hardly ever see him take it off if he’s not at home.

- His sudden hair color changes perplex you the most.

- At first you guys have such opposite schedules that you hardly ever feel like you’re living with anyone.

- Then Hoseok gets home at 3am to find you dancing in a extra large nightshirt and eating a tub of ice cream with the music blasting and he joins in- turning the music up ( the song was “fuck it” by big bang).

- It doesn’t matter that you can’t dance for shit- that you’re literally soo terrible- you dance with more energy and passion than half the idols he’s met.

- Breathlessly you comment on his dancing skills and he just smiles and say’s “yeah I dance a little on the side.”

- You never really ask him what he does- you just assume that it pays well after his entire closet is overflowing with Gucci and designer clothes.

- Which you totally steal out of the clean laundry.

- Queue some small domestic spats about him turning one of your white sweaters pink with a Gucci sweater right before you wanted to wear it.

- Which result in him letting you wear the offending Gucci sweater.

- Which you don’t give back until a month later when he goes too your room and demands it back.

- Your midnight dance party’s become more frequent- and when it finally gets a little warmer you guys take to drinking out on the balcony and watching the cars drive by and the glowing turquoise neon lights of Omelas pub across the street.

- You talk about everything and anything

- Sometime you’ll walk out a 4 am and find something keeping him up- or he finds you working on an assignment.

- And you’ll go downstairs to the café or across town to your favorite dinner to cheer him up with comfort food.

- After a while Hoseok starts to realize that this is the first normal friendship that he’s had in a long long time.

- Sure the boys are great but there are no expectations between you two- it’s just effortless. Your budding friendship only building when the both of you have time.

- He doesn’t have to wear a mask with you- at all. In fact- it almost seems like you can tell when he’s hiding something. Which is something that only the boys can do.

- And he’s not sure he would have this easy relationship with you if you knew he was an idol- so he does his best to keep it from you.

- He wants too keep the little slice of normalcy he has in his little apartment above the café.

- The two of you Lying on the ground in front of fans with you when the air-conditioning breaks on the hottest day of the summer.

- Going on runs together in the morning on his day’s off.

- Coming home to find that you made too much dinner. and him trying some to find out that “shit you’re a good cook.”

- shy smiles and thankyou’s over communally consumed cups of coffee on Sunday's

- Dance parties.

- Finding your colorful socks left in the washing machine.

- One day he comes back midday to find you just home from a run- and you’re making food while bopping to some music in a sports bra and a pair of shorts that look suspiciously like his.

- And he freezes when he starts to hear you rap part of cypher pt 4.

- His part.

- He yanks out your headphones when your eyes rise to meet his and he can’t tell if the feeling in his stomach is apprehension, fear, or longing to have all of it out in the open.

- “I didn’t know you liked rap music,” he says mildly, trying to keep his tone casual. You just shrug and keep cutting up vegetables.

- “I just found this song on iTunes and it’s totally my new work out jam- Wanna stick around for lunch? I’m making veggie stir-fry.” He snags a carrot off of your cutting board.

- “Can’t I’ve gotta get back.” You just shrug and put your headphones back in.

- He confesses to the boys that you still don’t know who he is and they’re all kind of shook.

- Half of them think he should tell you- after all you’ve found they’re music so you’re bound to get curious about them enough too look up their faces one day.

- But Hoseok just can’t- he can’t help but think the knowledge that he’s an idol will change everything for your relationship.

- And besides- he’s starting to get a twinge in his heart whenever he looks your way. And he knows what it means- even if he’s too stubborn and busy to confront it yet.

- Surprisingly Jungkook understands- and advises him too keep it a secret.

- So he does. But it gets harder day-by-day.

- He goes away for a short tour- and just tells you that he has to go away for a business trip.

- He gives you his number so that you can stay in contact about the apartment (in case there’s a problem or something breaks while he’s away for the month)

- But he’s not surprised that you guys just end up texting each other every day

- You mention that you have a really big exam and that you’ll be up late that night and he calls the café downstairs and begs them to deliver- after all he has a tab racked up anyway there.

- And you open the door too one of the cooks giving you a late and something sweet with a heart drawn on the back and just an “good luck –H”

- And you can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

- And you realize that you’ve begun to really miss him when he’s away- and you realize that all the little gestures he makes for you.

- When he comes back you cook together for a week- because he finally has time off and you have the final push before finals.

- You guys do everything together for that week. You watch TV. go too a few museums together, take walks at night when insomnia has both of you restless

- And yes- you have your famous dance parties (that have become almost routine at this point.)

- You even cuddle up on the couch together after a movie marathon. And Hoseok almost looses it when you fall asleep on his shoulder. His hands shake as he runs his fingers through your hair.

- He never wants this too end. This quiet peace he has with you.

- With you, he can take off his mask.

- He’s always careful not too sing in the shower anymore- after all these months you still don’t know he’s an idol.

- And he’s even more worried that you’ll find out one day.

- You decorate the apartment for Christmas. With garlands, lights, and a tree in the corner by the water stain. He has a big-hit Christmas dinner to go too Christmas eve- but when he comes home he finds you watching a Christmas special on the TV.

- You smile and open up your fluffy blanket for him and he sinks into the couch next too you- taking off his tie as you ask about his day.

- Your legs are warm and bare next too his silk dress pants.

- You hand him a little gift- wrapped in gold wrapping paper.

- “Just a little something for being a good roommate, and giving me cheap rent.”

- It’s a little bracelet with the Hangeul for hope attached too it. Small and silver.

- His heart stutters- and you take his silence to be something bad.

- “You’re always talking about hope- I just-“ “I love it.”

- He looks up at you- realizing how close your faces are. He takes your hand in his.

- “Thank you y/n- it’s perfect.” You just smile up at him.

- “I got you something too.” Really he’s had it for ages- since he first started to feel love sting in his chest and tug on the strings of his heart.

- He comes back too the room too the announcer blaring into your living room – “up next a pre-recorded performance of Bangtan Sonyondan! Performing their new Christmas song!”

- and he freezes because how the fuck could he forget. It had only been a few days ago that they had finished recording the special Christmas episode.

- He thinks fast- jumping on the couch “your Christmas present is tickling!” and he tickles you until you can’t breathe around your laughter.

- He barely manages to switch the channel before the commercial ends- turning it too a Christmas movie (love actually) that coincidentally he knows you love.

- Your laugh fills his apartment as you cry. “No fair! I was watching that!”

- But you forget about it when he finally presents you with your gift. You open it slowly.

- It’s a Gucci sweater- your favorite one that you always steal from Hoseok’s closet only this one is brand new tag still on it- the price scribbled out.

- It’s easily the priciest gift you’ve ever received.

- “Hoseok… this must have been so expensive” and you’re right- the sweater was several hundred dollars more expensive then one months rent.

- Hoseok just shrugs and teases “now you wont have to steal them from me anymore.” And you pull him down into a bone-crushing hug.

- And maybe its wrong- maybe it’s horrible for him too feel something for you when you’re his roommate.

- Maybe it’s horrible of him to feel his heart beat faster when he’s been lying to you.

- Maybe its because its Christmas Eve and he has no one but you.

- He lies there for a moment. Him on top of you his head pressed into your shoulder.

- The length of his body pressed against yours- happy for another person’s warmth on this cold night.

- He falls asleep for a little while- comforted by you, and wakes up to the luxurious feeling of your fingers rubbing down his spine underneath the covers.

- Cuddles become more of a regular thing for the two of you even after this as the winter slowly shifts to spring.

- He can tell when you’ve had a bad day- he’ll just pull you down, and you’ll do the same for him.

- Your first kiss happens a few weeks after that- when you’re both cooking a communal dinner and he you just look so cute when you laugh after he accidentally flips some chicken from a pan onto the floor.

- And he accidentally acts on his hidden feelings, pressing a kiss too the corner of your mouth so quickly.

- You’re a little stunned but then you kiss him back.

- If it seems at all possible you guys become even more effortless after that- pressing kisses too his lips when he leaves and the opposite.

- It becomes natural for you too sleep in his bed.

- But you don’t realize how serious you’ve both gotten until one month you go to pay rent and he just waves his hand saying- “don’t worry about it.”

- You still both haven’t had that talk yet.

- You know the one where you define your relationship- this domestic love that is slow and lovely and so hopeful.

- You still haven’t told him how you really feel- and though he’s made his feeling clear too

- You’re certain he wouldn’t put up with how needy you are sometimes if he didn’t want you around at least a little bit.

- It still bothers you that you can’t call yourself his girlfriend yet.

- But things pick up before you can talk about it- he goes on tour again- and he feels even more horrible for lying to you day by day.

- And your finals hit- and everything goes perfectly until you get one of your grades back and you failed- like flat out failed the class- you find out at the worst time.

- Hoseok isn’t here and as far as you know he wont be back until next week.

- You’re crying in the kitchen eating ice-cream when he walks in his suitcase dragging behind him- tired from his 15 hours of plane flights.

- At this point you’re basically balling about everything- you’re just so overwhelmed.

- “Y/n’ he calls quietly. And you turned shocked. Trying to wipe away your tears before he sees.

- But he does see, and he wipes away your tears before begging you to tell him what’s wrong and you tell him about your exam and he listens too you through all of it wiping away your tears with his thumb.

- When you’re done he just pulls you too your feet and takes your hand in his.

- And leads you too the center of your kitchen- taking you in his arms.

- A hand rubbing the small of your back while taking your other hand in his large hands.

- He slow dances with you- at 3 am in his kitchen.

- There’s no music like usual- Nothing but his quiet humming.

- You lean your head against his chest.

- And you hear him humming a song you recognize- it’s a song by bts,

- Which is surprising too you- because he’s only ever told you that he doesn’t really listen to them

- When it gets to your favorite part you stop moving.

- Because his humming- the pitch of it.

- How his vocal cords wrap around the tune- sounds exactly like the voice that you hear out of your headphones.

- You look up at him and he stops humming.

- “Hoseok are you-?” you just trail off- when you realize that you’ve never asked him what he does.

- He can see you slowly putting it together- his busy schedule- his cagey personality- his obvious wealth.

- “Please I can explain if you let me, y/n just- please don’t freak out.” He pleads.

- And he sits you down before trying to explain everything too you.

- You sit quietly listening too his story.

- He looks at you with baited breath when he’s finished waiting for your response. “Please I never wanted to lie too you- but after I while I just got so scared that you would leave or move out-“

- You start laughing - and it’s a little funny the impossibility of this situation.

- The guy that millions of girls probably lust after just ends up being your roommate because you answered a misspelled add in the newspaper. (he was drunk- so you don’t blame him that much).

- After you tell him why you’re laughing his faces looses his worried expression.

- “How could you ever think that I wouldn’t want to stay- Hoseok I admire everything that you do- you work so hard and I’m just- I’m astounded I didn’t realize sooner.”

-“So you’re not mad?’ you just grin at him and shrug “Maybe a little? Maybe I could see you perform and meet the other members as an apology.”

- He introduces you as his girlfriend too the boys- and you love all of them and they all love you.

- By the end of it he can’t imagine why he was so worried about it in the first place because you’re such a natural at this.

- Bighit talks too the both of you about keeping your relationship a secret- but it doesn’t seem too be much of a problem.

- Life continues as usual- only Hoseok has someone to come home too and love him and it’s more than he ever hoped for in his life.

- Dance parties start to end with your hips pinned against the kitchen counter and his hungry lips against your neck.

- Shared Showers after dance practice turn into tender lovemaking.

- Study sessions turn sultry when he pulled you on to his lap. “Come on you know it’s more comfortable.”

- Everything is absolutely perfect.

- You graduate from college. And Hoseok takes you to your first BTS concert. And when he gets off stage you’re just there beaming at him.

- When he looks at you he realize.

- Home was never an apartment above a coffee shop.

- Home was you all along.

Bonus – during the performance you totally shout, “that’s my man!” when he does a hip roll you’ve seen him do a dozen times in your kitchen.

2K notes View Post

agustdyoons

3 years ago

Only Fools

Jungkook x Reader (in progress)

College!OT7

y/n has been in love with Jungkook since their Chemistry class freshman year but he’s got so many girls after him, he’d never give her the time of day. Besides, she’s his best friend’s nerdy cousin so she’s off limits anyway. Right?

Throw in a costume party, a catfish, and a whole lot of crackhead and see if these fools ever find their way to each other.

Updates every other day at 1AM CST

Send an ask or leave a reply if you want to be added to the taglist!

Keep reading

1K notes View Post

agustdyoons

2 years ago

Seventeen Smau Fics Recs

scoups :

the secret of us by @jeonjaemark

game day by @escapewriter

the kids are going to be alright by @wondernus

midnight train by @svtfilms

first to fall by @thepixelelf

yoon jeonghan :

pillow talk by @goingneo

iris beauty by @wonunuu

death by a thousand cuts by @ssssssssssssscoups

let's love by @shuajeong

promise by @haosvteen

came down from heaven by @hannie-dul-set

hong joshua :

you were beautiful by @viastro

starstruck! by @cupidhaos

little secret by @haosvteen

falling for you by @memesolvernonchwe

hoshi :

let me hear you say by @cherrycheolliesc

love hard by @wondernus

jeon wonwoo :

to my youth by @viastro

bittersweet by @networkluvs

curious cat by @seungcy

woozi :

find my way back by @haosvteen

forelsket by @escapewriter

adore you by @networkluvs

now playing by @flickerchans

DK :

we have chemistry by @seungcy

what is love by @cupidhaos

the8 :

i just see you by @svtskneecaps

flip a coin by @grassywoozi

falling for u (literally) by @sbnchaos

vernon :

intertwined strings by @memesolvernonchwe

lie again by @escapewriter

HYYH : golden years by @sw1mmingfoolz

two minus one by @twogyuu

dino :

play it again by @svtskneecaps

imperfect love by @yaehao

yours truly by @networkluvs

multiple/unknown until the end:

thank you next? by @shionwrites

overdue by @kwanisms

by my side by @grassywoozi

redamancy by @escapewriter

radio star by @got-svt

can i love by @unmanageable-day

kismet and misfortune by @lovingyu04

charmed by @strawberry-svt

keep it fruity by @cupidhaos

Masterlist

2K notes View Post

agustdyoons

3 years ago

1-800-i miss-you

Each person deals with the loss of a loved one differently.. In your case, your way of coping was texting your now deceased fiancé, in the hopes that he could see the sweet messages you wrote to him from wherever he was. Little did you know however, that after six months of a number being deactivated, telephone companies reassigne it to a new customer.

»⸻⸻✩ ☆ ✩⸻⸻«

pairing: idol!jungkook x reader

genre: social media au, angst, fluff, slight crack

warnings: mentions of death, depression

updates: i hope daily

status: on going

a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist please send me an ask !

»⸻⸻✩ ☆ ✩⸻⸻«

☁️smau playlist☁️

☁️teaser 1

☁️teaser 2

☁️introduction: twitter profiles