Mixtape | Two | Myg (m)

Mixtape | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You've had a crush on Yoongi for most of your life. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years and things go less than according to plan.

☾ Word Count: 14,748

☾ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers/brother’s bff, smut, angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Talking about feelings, difficult conversations regarding potential relationships, fluff, explicit language, angst if you squint hard a y/n, some self-doubt, explicit language, recreational drinking, mentions of recreational drug use, mentions of smoking, mentions of past hookups/ less ideal sexual encounters, sexual tension, explicit sexual content including: spitting, throat fucking, oral (m. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, not really degradation but y/n calls Yoongi a slut as a joke during sex, nipple play (Yoongi is a tit guy), protected sex, a lot of biting and licking they’re kinda feral, discussion of sex in public places, y/n is kind of a hypocrite about what she wants but not necessarily in a negative way, topics of friendship betrayals, lying to friends. Please tell me if I missed something.

☾ Published: April 16, 2022

☾ A/N: Chapter 2/4 is here! This entire last half was driven by absolutely insane That That Yoongi. I went a little feral in parts because wow wow wow. I really wanted to make Yoongi a Consensual King and constantly ask reader if they're okay and ensure they know they can stop at any time- so hopefully that comes across okay. This is the slowest chapter in terms of plot. 3 and 4 have a purpose, because we have a story to finish :)

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Sweat and sunscreen stick to your thighs as you shift on the vinyl seats of the boat, trying not to slide while Seokjin works on anchoring it to the bottom of the lake. Jimin is doing the same on another, identical boat while Taehyung and Jungkook work in tandem with Namjoon and Yoongi to tie the boats together, careful to place buoys between them so they don’t scratch the paint.

White-hot sun scalds the top of your head. You lean down, fishing for a hat before you find one and twist it low, almost covering your eyes completely from your friends and the overly bright world around you. Which is fine by you, since you’re struggling to interact with anyone normally, thoughts empty and a head full of Yoongi’s tongue lapping at your pussy.

You have no idea how you’re going to survive the day.

Knowing where you stand is impossible. Yoongi had gently led you out of his room last night with a grin and a sweeter-than-expected goodnight kiss. You’ve barely spoken this morning- which is normal, so you’re not panicked- but you still cannot shake the feeling of his hands on you and in you.

Everything is different. 

The plus side is that everyone knows you hate lake water and that you will spend the next few hours in the safety of the boat. There’s a Nintendo hiding in your dry bag and a pack of hard cider in the cooler that has your name written all over it. Literally. You scribbled your name on it this morning to keep Namjoon’s greedy hands off of it. 

Seokjin extends a green, floating lily pad into the water so that they can place drinks and food out without having to worry about it floating off. The smell of sunscreen is poignant as everyone begins stripping, chatting about the party last night.

“I definitely found her passed out in her bedroom at 2 AM,” Ren snickers, grinning at you while she sprays her lean leg. “We’re old, man.”

“Yeah,” you rasp, licking your dry lips. You sneak a glance at Yoongi, but he’s not looking at you. “I was pretty tired. Last night took a lot out of me.”

Yoongi does look at you then. You almost don’t catch it because he’s bent over with his hand in the cooler, a hat almost pulled as low as yours on his head. His lip twitches and he looks away from you as while smirking down into the cooler. You feel yourself fighting a smile as you look away, satisfied that he wasn’t ignoring you. 

Once almost everyone is off the boat and in the water, you manage to bring yourself to strip off the oversized shirt and grab your switch, laying toward the bow of the boat with your legs extended, absorbing the heat of the sun. Sweat collects behind your knees, sliding down your legs as you turn on your game. 

A cider appears in front of you, dripping water from the cooler onto the screen of your Switch. You make a sound and snatch it, looking up to find Yoongi with raised brows.

“Careful with the hardware, yeah?” You ask, cracking the top and scooting over to make room for him. Your heart is pounding but you swallow it down with a mouth full of hard cider. “It’s the new OLED version.”

“You weren’t worried about your hardware last night.”

You scoff and he seats down next to you, pressed against your side. His laugh is full-bellied and deep, making you bite your lower lip. You’re relieved when he stretches his limbs, still dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, tilting his head up with his eyes closed, the sun turning his skin gold.

For a moment, you stare at the open canvas of his neck. You have the urge to lean forward and bite into him, to suck marks all over his pretty, smooth skin.

Instead, you turn your attention to your game and settle into a comfortable silence with him, cider wedged between the two of you. He eventually lifts your drink, one eye squinted open and looking at you as if daring you to say something to him. You don’t, and he gives you a shit-eating grin as he takes a sip.

“Sweet,” he murmurs.

You nod. “It’s my favorite cider.”

“I wasn’t talking about the cider.”

Oh. Oh. His gaze is on you now. The world feels overly loud at the comment and you’re acutely aware that everyone is in the water conversing, leaving you and Yoongi alone in the boat. It’s normal for the two of you to watch them from afar. No one would think- does think- anything of it. Especially not Seokjin, who trusts Yoongi with his little sister above anything else.

Guilt clangs through you immediately and you switch from burning hot under his hooded gaze to confused and anxious. Yoongi notes the change and closes his eyes, settling back to his position with his hands behind his head. His biceps flex, making you divert your gaze. 

Instead of coming up with a riposte, you turn to your game, playing as though he’s not sitting next to you taking subtle sips of your cider. You can almost feel how smug he is that you let him, despite having told the group that they were yours alone to drink.

“Tell me about your game,” he hums.

“Umm,” you click through a voice menu. “It’s Pokémon.”

“Namjoon loves that.”

You smile. “He does. It’s an open-world version. Basically, it’s a lot like the older version where you kind of go around and battle openly, but there’s more specific tasks and missions and you can veer from the storyline as much as you want and come back to it.”

“What’s your favorite Pokémon?”

“Haunter and Flareon.” You click around as he listens, the music soothing. “I almost cried five minutes into the game because I ran into an Eevee and it got away. I wanted a Flareon so bad.”

He hums. “I like the sassy cat.”

“Meowth?”

“Sure.”

You smirk. “Checks out.” You pause hold a hand out. He sighs and hands you your drink, letting you drain it. You move to get more but Yoongi waves you off, hauling himself up and walking over to the cooler. You watch as he pulls another one out, cracking it open and bringing it back to you. “Thanks. Do you plan on just sharing my drinks today?”

“Not in a mood to drink.”

“Too drunk last night?”

He looks at you and that thundering gaze is back, making you clench around nothing. You swear he makes you wet by just looking like that, and you try to cool yourself off with a couple of sips. You’re both in dangerous territory. He has to know this.

“Yes, but not from the alcohol.”

“You’re a lot more… forward than I expected.”

“Would you rather I pretend I didn’t eat you out last night? I think that would be worse.”

He’s absolutely right. Pretending that nothing happened would be infinitely worse.

“I guess I just worried about Seokjin.”

“He has no idea.”

“So…”

He raises his brows. “So.”

“I hate when you make me say everything.”

“I love watching you squirm. You’re a big girl, you can say what’s on your mind.” He leans back with a wolfish smile. “I’m listening.”

“So where do we go now? I never really expected you to be into me sexually if we’re being honest. What with being best friends with my brother and all.”

Said brother laughs loudly, drawing both of your attention for a moment. His wet hair is slicked back, face tilted toward the sky, laughing at something Suri said. You can’t tell if her cheeks are tinged pink because of the flush from the sun or because of Seokjin.

Interesting. You smirk, filing away that piece of information, recalling that they had taken up residence next to one another on the couch the night before. Seokjin hasn’t dated much. It would be nice to see him pay attention to someone, even if it was for a weekend.

“I love your brother,” Yoongi says slowly. “He's incredibly important to me."

“But,” you prompt, sensing a but.

“But,” he agrees with a grin. “I’m not going to sit here and say I’m not attracted to you. Have been for a while, I don’t know. I haven’t seen you in a while so I guess when I finally did I just… lost control a little?”

Have been for a while, I don’t know.

How long is a while? Something stops you from asking the question because suddenly every entry you ever wrote in your diary about him is right in front of you. You feel dizzy. From the heat, from Yoongi’s heavy stare, from the words he is saying.

Years. You had spent years admiring him from afar. Swallowing whatever affection you had because it was unrequited. Stupid. 

And there he is, lounging as the boat bobs up and down gently, telling you that you are wrong. That every excuse you’ve ever given yourself was nothing more than that: an excuse, and a false one at that. 

“Your silence is killing me, kid.”

There it is, that nickname. He’d called you ‘kid’ most of your life, as if reminding you exactly what you are to him. It confuses you, and you feel your internal frustration mount, making you frown. “You’re… attracted to me?”

He raises his brows. “Is that really the question you want to ask?” You shake your head and he looks at you, eyes soft. “So ask what you really want.”

“What do you want? Did you make a move because you’re just looking to get off physically or was it something more?”

“It’s a complicated answer. The simple version is: I haven’t ever gotten to know you intimately. I’ve always been… curious. We have similar interests and I like the way your brain works. I’m into you.”

“I sense another but.”

“But,” he chuckles. “You’ve always been Jin’s little sister and I haven't gotten to know you as you. As you are now. And I would really like to. We're two consenting adults, I find it hard to believe your brother would be that upset."

“Seriously? Have you met Jin?”

“Yeah, I- “

Yoongi doesn’t get to finish his explanation. Seokjin all but falls into the boat, hollering at Yoongi that it’s time for them to start working on lunch. Yoongi groans and gives you a look that promises your heart isn’t racing for no reason- he intends to finish this conversation later. The thought makes you jittery, watching as he gets up, flicking your hat briefly.

You growl at him and he smiles before helping Seokjin pull out the propane grill.

Fuck. You smile down at your lap. Perhaps your stupid crush wasn’t so stupid after all.

-

Despite putting on sunscreen, your flesh warm and a little tender to the touch after your shower. You curse, hugging your towel close. Still dripping, you walk into the bedroom you’re sharing with Ren to find her passed out from all of the day drinking. You grin at her and pull her comforter over her, her wet hair soaking her pillow. She mumbled a soft thanks before falling back asleep.

The house is quiet when you walk down to the kitchen in search of snacks. Taehyung and Mako are playing video games in the gaming room, their voices carrying from the single subterranean part of the home.

It’s the calm before the storm. Everyone is taking their afternoon naps, drained from the sun. Seokjin made dinner reservations at The Lodge for 9 PM- a late time in any other situation, but you know to get the crew well-rested and dressed before going out to the multiple bars on Acorn, the late start is necessary.

Grabbing water from the fridge, you close the door and nearly jump out of your skin to see Yoongi leaning against the counter behind the opened door.

“Jesus,” you gasp at him.

“Wrong guy,” Yoongi jokes. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Needed water first- and Ren is snoring.”

He hums. “You were always a light sleeper.”

You recall countless nights of running into Yoongi in the hall when he slept over at your house while you snuck down to the kitchen for water or snacks. You always struggled to sleep, especially if he and Seokjin were carrying on down the way.

“It’s super cold in the theater room,” Yoongi says after a few long moments of silence. “And I won’t be snoring.” He grabs water from the fridge and walks toward the east wing of the house. “You know where to find me.”

You linger in the kitchen for a moment before smiling and trailing after Yoongi. The theater room is on the first level of the home, tucked in the back with no windows and three rows of six, plush recliners. An old-school popcorn machine sits in the back with a bar cart filled with toppings, flavors, candy, and bowls for popcorn.

Yoongi is stretched in the back row, wrapped in a soft, fleece blanket with the seat reclined all the way down. He has Naruto on, the volume set to low, and the lights all the way down. It’s freezing in the room, making you hurry over to him when he glances at you, light from the screen dancing on his face. He unravels the covers and gestures for you to sit on the seat next to him.

The leather is cold making you hiss. Yoongi laughs but throws the blanket over you. You curl into a ball and lean the seat back, finally level with his. For a moment, you’re tense, muscles coiled as you fixate on the screen in front of you, not sure if he invited you with other intentions or not.

“Relax, kid.” You breathe out, letting your muscles unwind. He hums. “Good girl. I only brought you in here to relax. Nothing else.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You pause and bite your lip. “Thought you said you wanted to fuck me stupid.”

Yoongi turns his gaze to you. His blonde hair is still damp from his shower, almost blue in the light from the screen. Shadows dance across his face, coal eyes studying you while he purses his lips in thought. “Still do. But we’re both tired and I told Jungkook where I’d be after his shower if he wanted to join.”

“Poor planning on your part.”

The door behind you opens and you flinch. Jungkook comes in yawning and rubbing his eyes, hair dripping as he promptly drops into the seat next to you. If Jungkook notices anything off, he doesn’t say it or he doesn’t care. He leans his seat back and curls toward you immediately, making grabby hands.

“Get your own blanket,” you snarl at him, tugging the fleece away from him.

He whines. “Yoongi make her share.”

The older man laughs. “What makes you think she’ll listen to me?”

Jungkook cracks open an eye and gives you a look that says I’ll say it. You fold your mouth into a thin line. It doesn’t matter if Jungkook sells you out to Yoongi now. You’ve already crossed a line. You still give Jungkook a look back and he relents. “She always listens to you and Jin.”

Yoongi scoffs but he nudges you under the blanket. “Your roommate, your responsibility.”

There are times you want to strangle Jeon Jungkook. This moment is one of them, giving him some of the blanket that you planned to share with Yoongi. He nearly purrs, curling into a ball and leaning into you across the armrest, nuzzling your arm until he’s comfortable. His eyes fixate on the screen, blinking tiredly.

“I like this episode,” he mumbles, content with your arm as his pillow. “Good choice.”

“Predictable choice,” you mutter.

Yoongi’s hand brushes against your thigh momentarily under the blanket and you nearly scream. Your head snaps in his direction, expecting him not to notice. But he does, grinning at you with gums full on display and head tilted to the side. “I’m sorry- don’t you still watch Sailor Moon?”

His hand does it again and your thigh is on fire, thighs clenching as he squeezes your thigh and leaves it there. He turns to the screen and settles. “Those in glass houses…”

You huff, unable to focus on the screen as his hand rests on your thigh, thumb stroking back and forth delicately. Jungkook is completely unaware, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape as he falls asleep. You always envied that about him. “Hush,” you warn Yoongi. “The baby is sleeping.”

-

Lights line the dark street as your group files out of the two SUVs parked behind the trendy restaurant. You’ve eaten there before- it’s a modern-western dream with interior decorators that did a much better job than those who designed the inside of the Park home.

A black accent wall lines the back of the restaurant with a wooden bar in front of it, industrial lighting hanging from the ceiling. The bar stools are wrapped in fake cowhide with nail-head trimming. Long, wooden beams hold up the high ceiling, making it feel like a tavern as your group is led to a private room in the back of the establishment, hidden behind a heavy door.

The Lodge specializes in a variety of meats, cuts, and ridiculously large dishes. You look at the mouthwatering burger options while Jungkook fidgets next to you. You glance at him sidelong and whisper, “What is your problem?”

“My button broke,” he whispers back, gesturing to his crotch. 

You take a hair tie out of your purse and instruct him on how to fix the broken top of his jeans with it. He struggles, cursing as he looks in his lap while trying to loop the tie around the button. You sigh dramatically, dropping your menu to help him and he get’s even fussier. 

“Jungkook, what is my sister doing with her hands in your crotch?”

The entire table shifts their attention to you and Jungkook. He whines and swats at your hands, protesting that it looks weird. 

“Please,” you shoot back at your brother. “He’s my roommate. If I wanted to give him a handy, I’d do it in the privacy of our home. Jungkook is not a voyeur.” You pause and look up at him. “Wait, are you?”

“No!” he hisses. “Hurry up and get your hand off my dick, woman!”

Mako gives a hearty laugh, clapping Seokjin on the back. Your brother arches a single brow, the one indication that he is deadly serious about what’s going on at your end of the table. You roll your eyes, finishing fixing Jungkook’s pants.

“Relax, Jin. Wouldn’t it be nice if your sister dated one of these fine gentlemen anyways? They’re all upstanding guys,” Mako says, sipping his wine.

You don’t dare to look at Yoongi who is sitting right next to Seokjin. Instead, you pick up your menu and go back to trying to find something to eat, not letting your heart drop straight to your ass as Seokjin says, “No one here is good enough to date my sister, including you, Mako."”

Dinner is loud but you’re absolutely silent, drinking your wine with a white-knuckled grip and grimace. Taehyung on the other side of you murmurs something to Jimin before he leans toward you.

“You okay?” you look up, having sensed their conversation. You nod and give him a soft smile. He senses something is off but nods anyway. “Maybe we go to the wine bar before joining everyone else at Container?”

“I would like that,” you murmur.

Taehyung gives you a beatific smile and turns back to his food. You love the way your friends read you. You know you can’t tell them about Yoongi. They would guard that secret with their lives, but the last thing you want to do is have them complicit in your lies to Seokjin. 

Thankfully, you survive dinner and Jimin announces that you’re going to get wine before heading to the loud bar made of old shipping containers and loud music. You avoid looking at Yoongi as you slide into the cool interior of the SUV, Taehyung quickly behind you. 

At the wine bar, you’re content with the tweet wine that warms your mouth as you kick your feet up by the fire pit. Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook and Ren all came with you. These are your friends first, and you feel the anxiety ease from your shoulders. 

Ren leans on you, sighing happily as she sips her white wine. “So why are we here?”

Jungkook gives her owlish eyes. “Like as in this bar, or existentially?”

“Only you could think I meant existentially.”

He frowns. “We’re drinking, philosophy comes up sometimes. What do you think they did at all those what’s it called? Where all the greasy Greek men drank it up and spouted knowledge?”

“Symposiums,” you offer.

“We’re here,” Jimin offers, “Because I think someone is Symposium-ing over Yoongi so hard.”

“What?”

Jimin rolls his eyes and drops down into a chair next to Taehyung. He empties the sparkling wine from his glass and fills another to the brim before knocking it back in one go. You raise your brows at him and he catches your expression. “I think we’re going to need to be drunk for this conversation. Help yourself.”

A tiny trickle of fear slips into your shaking hand as you polish off your glass of wine and hold it out for Ren to refill. Do they know? Were they the ones on the balcony below as Yoongi made you cum from his skilled tongue and long, deft-

“You and Yoongi have been inseparable,” Jimin starts. You make a face. “This isn’t a deniable fact. You guys were drinking together in the kitchen all night together and then vanished to pass out when your social battery ran out.”

“Why is that so weird?” you defend. “I spent more time with Jungkook than I did with Yoongi.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have like, this really cute and long-term crush on Jungkook.” Taehyung makes a face, eyes bouncing between the two of you. “Unless…?”

“No,” you and Jungkook agree at the same time. You continue, “And even so- I’ve known Yoongi literally most of my life. He and I are friends too, you know?”

“And you were in the boat all day together,” Jimin surmises.

“We both don’t like the water. Congratulations, Inch Eye Private Eye.”

“And you looked fucking destroyed at dinner with Seokjin went on his little ‘no friends date my sister’ speech.” You don’t have a rebuttal for that one, so you stare at Jimin from across the fire. His smile is soft and you can tell it’s not teasing or malicious. “You still sort of like Yoongi. It’s okay. Have you ever considered telling Jin?”

“So he could laugh in my face and lecture me on how weird it is to date one of his friends that he found first? No thanks.”

“It might be different. He knows how much Yoongi cares about you.”

You prickle a bit at Taehyung’s comment. Do you even really know how much Yoongi cares about you? It’s difficult to place where on the line he falls, even after your discussion with him on the boat. Attraction and feelings are two totally different things, and while you have established that he likes you in general and that there is an attraction on a physical level, you haven’t really had the Feelings conversation.

“Jin also knows that Yoongi just got out of a relationship that fucked him up,” Jungkook points out gently. “I hear he was pretty upset for a while.”

You squirm, thinking about how Yoongi had complained the night before about being asked about Wen. “Why are we having this discussion, again?” you ask. 

“Because it’s obvious that he’s into you.”

You look at Jungkook with a wild expression. “What? You just said-” 

“I said that Jin would be uncomfortable with it,” Jungkook asserts, emboldened by his wine. “I mean, we all thought maybe in college but you two were practically snuggling when I walked in this afternoon.”

“You… literally laid on my arm and then continued to cuddle on my bicep and you don’t see me ready to date you.”

“It’s different,” Jungkook clarifies. “It’s just- we think if you’re into him, you should talk to Jin. Sister-to-brother. It’s just... sort of silly to watch, honestly. We're all adults.”

“Okay. I hear what you’re saying, but can we please stop talking about Yoongi?”

It comes out defensive. You know it, they know it. Jungkook winces a little bit and you soften your gaze and hold your hand out to him, a peace offering. He takes it, stroking his thumb back and forth over the top of your hand. He looks genuine as he says, “We just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” you say.

And you are. Even without the Yoongi stuff. You’re happy to be in the mountains with your friends and see them sun-kissed and drunk. You’re happy to see your brother flirting with a girl for once. You’re happy that Ren is giving Jungkook a fond look again, and that you’re with Taehyung and Jimin who still at the end of the day just want what’s best for you.

So maybe you should drop whatever it is with Yoongi. Maybe it’s ruining the trip because they seem to be so focused on what’s going on with you and the way you and Yoongi rotate around one another like lost satellites.

Sighing, you stand and pull Jungkook up with you. “Thanks for the talk, everyone. How about we go drink real liquor?”

-

Heated, flushed skin presses against you as you move in between Taehyung and Jimin on the dance floor. The world is a kaleidoscope of lights. The base from the speakers is rattling your ribcage, making it hard to breathe. You feel alive and a little messy as you sway your hips between them, hands around Taehyung’s neck, Jimin’s hands on your waist.

To anyone else, it would look like you’re about to take two men home and have a very memorable threesome. But touching them in this way isn’t new to you, especially when Ren comes up behind Taehyung with her hands on his waist, twisting herself sensually to the rhythm of the music.

Jungkook is standing off to the side glancing nervously next to Namjoon and Lydia. You catch Lydia’s eye and point subtly at Jungkook and then to Ren, where she has Taehyung bent over like she’s fucking him from behind. Lydia grins, nodding as if to say message received.

You watch as she convinces Namjoon and Jungkook to follow her through the crowd. The shy girl from dinner the night before is gone and replaced by a confident bulldozer as she drags Jungkook in front of her, nudging him Ren’s general direction. Ren doesn’t hesitate, squealing in excitement now that Jungkook is there, grabbing his hands and pulling him into rhythm with her and Taehyung.

“Hey,” Jimin’s voice is low and breathy as you dance. “Can you wingman for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Bar?”

You let Jimin lead the way, the two of you both ordering drinks. Jimin starts a casual conversation with a cute girl next to him. She looks startled when she sees him and you understand why- silver hair, siren eyes, and a sultry smile are Jimin’s signatures whenever you’re at the bar. He turns and introduces you as his best friend. 

“You have a beautiful name,” she says. 

You flash a smile. “The feeling is mutual. I really like your shoes, by the way.”

“Lulus!”

You grin and order the three of you shots, sitting on the stool behind Jimin, spinning back and forth to the beat of the song rumbling from the dance floor. 

Aria relaxes and chats with Jimin longer. She sneaks glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking and you think it’s cute. Especially when Jimin excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving you in her care.

“He’s really nice,” Aria notes when Jimin is gone, turning to you. “You guys have known each other for a while?”

“Since elementary school. He and our other friend Taehyung are my favorite people in the world, honestly. And you?”

She sees the way you glance around and she winces. “Friends are kind of wasted over there,” she motions to a very rowdy group at a VIP lounge. “I sometimes do better away from that and just at the bar alone.”

“Ooof. I can relate- fuck is that Myers?”

Aria’s brows shoot up. “You know him?”

“Yes, please hide me!”

“What? Why?”

“I had a very embarrassing the last time I saw him.” Her eyes go wide and worried. “I kind of sort of fell asleep while he was going down on me.”

“Oh god,” she claps her hand over her mouth. “Was he that bad?”

“Awful- and I hate to say that because he’s so nice but oh my god.”

The confession brings you a little closer and you and Jimin convince Aria to join your group. Taehyung sucks you back to the dance floor where he presses you against his front, screaming the lyrics to a popular song you’re only vaguely familiar with.

It’s fun. Despite it being really loud and feeling sweaty, you almost forget what happened the night before with Yoongi. You’re enjoying your time with your friends and Seokjin squeezes you tight as he kisses you on the head, shouting to the world that you are his best baby sister and it’s not because you’re his only one.

You notice Yoongi on the edges of your vision. He nods to you once, a brief smile. You return it, but you avoid one another for the night, not daring to let him dance with you. 

By the time the night creeps into the hours of the morning, the club is emptying and you’re stumbling drunk, swinging back and forth between Ren and Jungkook. You could totally tease him that he has Ren’s lipstick on the corner of his mouth, but you don’t. You let them enjoy each other as everyone groups outside to go home with the two designated drivers in charge- Namjoon leading one car and Hoseok leading the other.

Jimin invites Aria and all of her friends back. You blanch when you see Myers step out into the streetlight and duck behind Jungkook, clutching his leather jacket. He follows your line of sight and whispers to Jimin, “Uh, dude? You invited Myers back.”

“Oops,” Jimin winces. He looks at you hiding behind Jungkook. “It’s a big house? Maybe he won’t see you?”

You know there’s little to no chance. So you slide into the car, already working out how you can just slip up to your room without anyone calling you out. You’re thinking of faking sick when the smell of sandalwood and alcohol hits you in the face.

Yoongi doesn’t tell you to move when he gets in the car. He simply shuffles in and lifts you, making you squeak as he slides under you and settles you on his lap while more people pile in.

“Yoongi, what-“

“We’re taking Jimin’s new friends with us,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. You lean forward, latching on the head rest of Namjoon’s seat. He looks at you in the rearview, sending you a questioning look. You smile apologetically. “There was no room in the other car.”

“Lucky for you.”

He leans forward, pressing his back to your chest as his lips ghost the shell of your ear. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Yoongi’s hands are slow and subtle as he leans further into the seat, pulling you flush with him. He pulls the seatbelt and takes care of wrapping it around you both, making sure it’s a snug fit. You can feel his heart beating erratically, almost in time with yours.

Carefully Yoongi settles his arms around your waist and gives you a teasing squeeze as the rest of the car fills up. Blessedly, Myers isn’t in your car. You haven’t figured out how to say hello to him yet. Hey, last time I saw you I was waking up while you put your clothes on because you tongued my pussy to sleep, didn’t seem appropriate.

Namjoon turns the car on the road, the interior filling with blasting AC to cool off the sweaty bodies packed in the car. Taehyung is blaring music over the speakers and the riders are either conversing loudly over the music or screaming along with him.

You and Yoongi are silent as you try and fail to breathe normally. His hand on the door-side of his seat begins rubbing lazy circles on your legs with his thumb, making your drunk haze thicken. Everything feels so much better with the buzz, and you nearly melt into him, nearly purring at the feeling.

Yoongi can tell. You hear him let out the softest chuckle into your ear as he whispers, “Yeah? You like it when I touch you like this?”

You dig your nails into the side of his thigh, making him hiss. “Careful, Min.”

“With you? Always.”

It’s a comment that is too sentimental for the moment. You tilt your head to the side, catching his eyes. They’re dark as ever and he flicks between looking at your eyes and your lips, dragging back and forth as he loses focus on which he wants to pay more attention to. Your lips twitch as you look away and settle into him, relaxing enough to let your head lay back on his shoulder just a little.

This is safe. You know it is. Taehyung doesn’t even have the mind to tease you for sitting on Yoongi’s lap, instead putting on your favorite song, turning in his seat to scream lyrics at you while you laugh in Yoongi’s arms. 

You hold your hand out to him, the invisible microphone at the ready and Taehyung grips your wrist, singing like his heart depends on it. You feel Yoongi laughing behind you with the rest of the car, and it’s nice.

You somehow manage to survive the ride back to the house, even with Yoongi sneaking squeezes of your ass and thighs in.

The first car is already unloaded and making chaos in the living room. You waver in the foyer, hesitant to enter the space where you know an awkward encounter is looming.

Taehyung notices you first and pats you on the back. “Maybe he doesn’t remember you falling asleep while he was face deep in your pussy.”

Yoongi overhears him and turns to you, frowning. “What?”

Taehyung realizes his mistake. “Wow I really need some tequila, goodbye!” 

You feel hot in the face. Not because it’s Yoongi and not because of the alcohol, but because you feel bad telling people. 

“Please don’t say anything,” you murmur to Yoongi as you walk toward the living room. “The last time we were all here, Myers and I were hooking up but I was really drunk and I wasn’t super into it and I fell asleep.”

Yoongi doesn’t laugh. His first move is to grab your wrist and stop you, pulling you back into the foyer as people pass you. His eyebrows are bunched together and you’d think his pout was adorable if he didn’t look so serious.

“He stopped when that happened, right?”

You’re bewildered. “Yeah,” you answer. “Pretty much right when he noticed. I woke up because he was making a lot of noise getting dressed. It was so awkward.”

“He didn’t do anything, right?”

“What? Yoongi, no. Myers was a gentleman, if not a little embarrassed. He didn’t do anything like that, I’m sorry. I realize how that sounded.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and blinks slowly. “Sorry. Um. I got nervous.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that. But Myers is a good guy- really. He’s just bad at oral.”

“Oh?” Yoongi leers at you then, taking a step forward so you’re looking up at him, blinking with your lips slightly parted as he lowers his voice even further. “Doesn’t know that you like that pretty little hole finger-fucked while you have your clit sucked?”

“Yoongi…”

“Doesn’t know how tight your cunt get right before you’re about to cream?”

“Yoongi,” you warn again, dizzy-drunk on his filthy mouth. 

He steps back toward the stairs. He flicks his head at them. “You know where you’ll find me.”

It takes you an hour of fighting with yourself to decide what you want to do. You’re coming down from your buzz and the world is screaming loud at the edges. Seeing Myers was both just as awkward and not as terrible as you expect- he just offers a nod of the head and nothing more.

You’re on your sixth round of debating whether you should go spend time with Yoongi, knowing where it’s going to go. Knowing that you shouldn’t. 

But you’re a hypocrite. Your friends are both within and without- some have retired for the night and some are in different parts of the house. As your eyes search the room for Ren, nearly breaking to ask her what to do, Jungkook finds you and beckons you.

“I have a wingman question to ask,” he whispers. You lean into the shadowy alcove as he blocks the main group of people from you. “You know I’m sort of into Ren.”

“You’re wearing her lipstick, babe.”

His hand shoots to his mouth and begins to scrub, making you laugh. “Whatever. I don’t have a room by myself, I share it with Jimin and Taehyung.”

“And Jimin wants to fuck Aria.”

“Yeah, and this isn’t college anymore. I have no interest in hooking up in a shared room.”

“Okay, well I don’t want to sleep in there either.”

His doe eyes are burning. “I know- the only people who have single rooms are Jin, Namjoon and Lydia and…” You already know the answer before he says, “Yoongi.”

“How is this me helping you?”

Jungkook dances back and forth on his feet, nearly whining as he quickly spits out the words, “Jin is definitely going to bang Suri.” You make a face and he rushes to say, “Sorry bad visual. But he’s not going to let me use his room. Can you ask Yoongi to sleep in your room since there are two beds and I really need one?”

“You’re coming with me to ask him.”

Even though he protests, Jungkook does. You both wander to the third floor and knock on the door. When there’s no answer, you find Yoongi smoking on the balcony. He brightens when he sees you step outside, but you give a quick shake of your head and announce, “Jungkook has a favor to ask.”

Quickly, Jungkook gets through his narrative of how he wants to get laid- needs to get laid. He drops so many ‘please Yoongi’s’ and ‘I will do anything’ that Yoongi raises his brows. It’s not without a soft tease and making Jungkook swear to wash every sheet and towel in the morning.

“No favors needed,” Yoongi says, eyes sliding you. “You’ve done plenty.”

Every step toward your room is fueled by a pounding heart. Ren is in your room and Yoongi announces that there is a gift waiting for her on the third floor of the house, second door to the right. She is flame red and clearing her throat, struggling to figure out what to say.

“Relax,” Yoongi offers gently, giving her a disarming smile. “You’re both adults. If anyone makes it weird, you tell me. I’ll handle it.”

You can't help but wonder if he means that for you, too.

“Thank you,” Ren murmurs, ghosting past Yoongi and giving you a questioning look. You give her a shrug, playing it impassively. “Don’t snore, please. She struggles to sleep when people snore.”

Yoongi waits until Ren is out of the room with a soft click of the door before he says, “So. Are we sleeping?”

“What?”

“Kid, I’m teasing you. Of course you can go to sleep. No obligations here.” He notices how tense you are and he softens further. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, I thought you would laugh and I was hoping to take the edge off. Look, I can sleep on the couch-”

“You’re sleeping in here.”

He raises his brows at the firmness you use in your voice. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“

“I’m not uncomfortable. I am equal parts very nervous and very excited.”

“Excited?”

You blush and shift a bit on your feet, unsure whether to sit, stand, take your clothes off- anything. “I… yes. Nervous because…”

“Because…” he prompts.

“I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

He takes a few steps toward you as you look at your feet, hands wringing. Yoongi brushes his fingers across your face and tilts you to look at him. He’s so gentle that you want to fall into him and never stop falling. “You would never disappoint me if you’re not into it. That’s not- that’s not why I came in here.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just… I totally lied to my friends today and didn’t tell them about last night, and it feels really stupid to be hiding this as an adult, especially when they know I’ve been pining over you.”

“Pining over me?”

You take a deep breath and force yourself to look him in the eye. “Please don’t think I am a giant loser when I say this.”

He shakes his head. “I would never.”

“Don’t be so sure,” you mutter but straighten. “I was always just a kid sister to you- I know you said earlier on the boat that maybe… maybe there were times you saw me in a different light. That’s cool- like really cool- but to my friends, it was like this forever crush that I never let go.”

He arches a brow but you push forward. “And I like the way you’re looking at me right now,” you admit. “But I also don’t want to make something out of nothing.”

“Okay, then I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”

“We obviously need to talk. You’re saying things without really saying them, and I think there are some things I need to very blatantly say to you, I’ll even start with one now: I’m into you. Not casually. But actually in a very interested way.”

“Really?”

He laughs at your question, but it’s not condescending. “Yeah. So here’s the deal: we can sit down and talk right now and you can tell me what’s really making you feel insecure about what I’m telling you.”

“Or?”

“I can fuck you into that mattress the way I’ve wanted to do since you showed up yesterday, and we can talk after.”

“Oh.”

He takes a step closer and lowers his head, nose almost touching yours as he looks down at you. Your eyes zero in on his mouth and you become dizzy, remembering the feel of it.

An ache takes root deep inside you and you think about the words he muttered to you in the foyer. Doesn’t know that you like that pretty little hole finger-fucked while you have your clit sucked?

“Please,” you breathe.

You don’t need to tell him what you mean. You never have to tell Yoongi what you mean. He always knows.

 Kissing him changes the way you think about kissing. Before, it was something to initiate sexual encounters, or to express general fondness. But when he moves his mouth slowly against yours, taking his time to enjoy you and to smile into your mouth when he nips at you and you hum, you decide it’s more. It’s intimate, and it makes you feel closer to him. You tug at him, wanting him closer closer closer.

“Hold on,” he murmurs. “Locking the door.”

“Won’t that seem suspicious?” 

He walks to the door and flicks the lock. You sit on the edge of the bed, shivering. “No,” he murmurs, walking slowly toward you. You lean back on your palms, on display for him. “I’ll just say I didn’t want any drunk idiots wandering here and getting into your bed.”

“Oh? And you’re not a drunk idiot wandering into my bed?”

“Nope,” he grins. You open your legs and he slots himself between them, looking down at you while biting his lower lip. His blonde hair is styled back, a little loose from the sweat and his hands combing through it.  “I am sober and being invited.”

“Hmm.” 

Without warning, Yoongi drops down his knees. It’s so similar to the position you were in the night before. You’re in a trance as he grins a gummy smile at you, lifting your foot and working at the laces on your boot, fingers nimble. You fixate on them as he pulls one shoe off before working on the other.

“You know,” he observes. “I always loved that your style hasn’t changed.”

You frown. “I like to think it’s much better than in college.”

“I’ll give you that. But you’ve always dressed in what you like- even at a club you’re in these,” he flicks your boots. “I like it.”

“What else do you like?”

"You,” he mutters as he stands up. You follow your instinct, bringing your hands to run up his thighs, nails scratching him through his jeans. He makes an appreciative sound as you trace the outline of his hardening cock. Yoongi tilts his head back slightly, eyes fluttering shut as you continue to trace him through his jeans, applying more pressure as you near his tip.

With careful fingers, you pull at his belt, undoing it and working the zipper open. Yoongi watches, eyes focused and pupils slightly blown as you don’t pull his pants all the way down. Instead, you pull them down just below his cock, chewing on your lip as you take him in your hand, heavy and hard. 

You look up through your eyelashes at him and you give him a squeeze, gliding your hand down his shaft in a slow pump. Yoongi sighs, heads tilted back you slow-stroke him from the base of his shaft to his tip, running your thumb over the precum there teasingly. Yoongi hums, hips jerking slightly when you squeeze a little at the base.

“Why are you being a tease?” He asks, voice low and breathy. You’ve never heard him this shaky before. You rub your thighs together, watching the way his neck becomes flushed and his eyes keep fluttering. “You rubbing those pretty thighs together for friction? Does touching my cock make you wet?”

You nod, dazed. Yoongi grabs you gently by the jaw, urging you to lift your gaze back up to meet his. “Come on,” he says softly, smirking. “Want a taste?”

Fuck. You do.

You lean forward, tongue darting out to circle the sticky-head lazily. He lets out a loud sound and you grin, suckling his tip gently. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that.” 

Pulling off him with a pop, you sigh. “Fine,” pants off. 

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told twice, helping you pull him out of his jeans, cock swaying heavily. You can’t help but shake your head when you grasp him again, boldly licking him from base to tip, laving messily with the thick vein throbbing there. 

“Fuck,” you swear. “No wonder you kept fucking in public places, did you just want everyone to see your dick?”

He smirks. “Nah, just thought it was cool and thrilling.”

“Yeah?” You bat your lashes at him as you bring your lips slowly to the tip, sticking out your tongue to give a soft, kitten lick. “You liked being a little slut?”

Something between you changes then. A fire is lit in his eyes sparks and he pulls your head, yanking you away from his dick so that you’re straining your neck to look like him. “Careful, I might just fuck that throat of yours since I’m such a slut.”

You leaned up further, whispering, “What if I want you to?”

“Fuck yeah, you want to?” You nod, eager. “Start slow, baby. I’ll fuck your throat when I think you’re ready.”

So you start slow, gathering spit in your mouth before letting it drip onto his tip, glob sliding down the shaft, mouth chasing it eagerly. You swallow him down, cheeks hollow, tongue hungry, sucking slowly as you relax your throat.

It’s messy. You let yourself drool as you begin to take Yoongi further and further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks with a gentle suck as you go. You’re careful to guard your teeth, letting your tongue run on the underside of his shaft as you bob your head, hand working in tandem with steady pressure and a gentle twist as you please the parts of him you can’t reach.

Divine sounds fall from his mouth as you work yourself into a faster pace. The sounds are obscene, filled with wet gurgles and a soft choke when you go down too far too quickly. Yoongi’s hips are twitching but he’s not thrusting. Yoongi’s hands cradle your head, watching as you come up for air, letting drool and strings of precum connect your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck yeah,” Yoongi growls. “Make it fucking messy so I can fuck myself deeper.”

“Mmmm. Want it.”

“Yeah? Greedy for my cock?” When you nod, Yoongi lets out a vial string of curses, shuffling back. “Lay on your back with your head hanging off the bed, baby.”

The nickname sends a shiver through you. You want to hear Yoongi call you that forever. 

You lay back on the bed, the top of your head slightly off the bed so Yoongi has a decent angle to slide into your throat easily. You watch his pretty hands stroke his even prettier cock and you let out a moan for him, enchanted by the way he pleases himself.

“Never knew you were so dirty,” Yoongi smirks. As if to make a point, you open up for him and stick your tongue out invitingly, a glint in your eye. “Whose the slut now?”

You watch him as he grips the base of his cock, your mouth open wide as he slowly pushes the tip into the heat of your mouth. He groans as he sinks further, sliding against your tongue, careful to ease his way into it. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Yoongi whispers, setting a slow, shallow pace. You are careful to keep your jaw slack. Yoongi’s hands move to cradle the sides of your face gently, pads of his fingers applying the slightest pressure as he holds you in place. “You love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

You hum happily around him as he slowly picks up his pace. He’s careful not to plunge to the back of your throat, letting your spit pool in your mouth to lubricate him. “Tap my thigh if it’s too much, okay baby?” You give a tiny nod as Yoongi starts to fuck your mouth in earnest, you head tilted back to give him access to your throat. “Fuck, such a perfect mouth for me.”

Pleasure ripples through your spine. You feel like you can come from the sight of Yoongi losing himself in your mouth alone. You watch his thighs flex as he thrusts into your mouth, careful to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightens but remains gentle as his cock kisses the back of your throat. You feel your throat constrict lightly, a soft gag sounding but nothing you can’t handle, your eyes smarting slightly.

Yoongi loses himself in your mouth, eyes closing as he throws his head back, letting out a deep moan. You love listening to him moan, the throaty pitch, and the humming.

As Yoongi pleases himself, you get lost in his movements, in the feel of the spit running down the spit of your face and the way his hands worship you, brushing away the spit and keeping you steady.

 Reaching over your head, you run your nails down Yoongi’s thighs. His muscles jump and he lets out that deep sound again.

Yoongi pulls out abruptly. You gasp for air, blinking at him. Tears track down your face as Yoongi massages your jaw briefly before bending down to steal a searing kiss from you, tongue tangled in the spit and precum in your mouth.

He parts from you, lips brushing lightly against your nose as he murmurs, “Wanna come in that messy pussy of yours.”

Yoongi rips his shirt up and over his head as you scramble to your knees, taking your shirt off. He grabs your hands as you reach for your bra, stopping you. You frown at him but he gets onto the bed, naked and beautiful, chest red from the blood flow running through him.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, pulling your face to his as he kisses you again.

Every time you kiss him it’s like doing it all over again for the first time. He explores the taste of you while his hands brush up your ribcage and to your back, pulling your bra off. Your heart flutters, realizing that he wants to undress you himself.

Yoongi’s movements are loving and methodical. His hands come back around as he deepens the kiss further, gently gripping your breasts and kneading softly, thumbs brushing over your pebbled nipples. You keen into his mouth, head tilting back slightly at the electric feel of him against your skin.

“Yeah?” he whispers, kissing down your exposed neck. He’s careful with his teeth, giving you more tongue and lips than bites. “Sensitive?”

You nod your head, looking down as Yoongi lowers himself, eyes looking up at you as he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. You clap a hand over your mouth as you let out a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as his laugh travels through you.

“These fucking tits are perfect,” he mutters, sticking out his tongue to flick teasingly over your bud before he draws a line with his tongue to your other peak, circling with his skilled tongue. “Honestly could suck these tits for hours,” he adds. As if to make his point, he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks hard. You’re shaking as he pulls away with a pop. “But I’m gonna bust if I don’t fuck you.”

“Please do,” you beg. You can’t remember ever begging for a man the way you are right now as Yoongi unbuttons your jeans. “Want your cock so fucking bad, Yoongi. Please.”

He helps you out of your jeans and kisses back up your stomach, between your breasts, and to your lips. “Mmm you ask so nicely, my sweet girl. Lay back for me.”

Later, you wonder if you’ll be embarrassed by how quickly you obey him, laying back on the bed. You watched him with a heated gaze as he leaves the bed for a moment, rooting around his jeans before you see the flash of the foil in his hands. He tosses it next to you and you frown.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna use it. Need to prep you, baby.”

“Want it now,” you whine.

“Hush,” he murmurs, leaning to steal a kiss while his hand brushes to stroke up your slit. You moan into his mouth as he circles your clit lazily, applying gentle pressure. “You’re so wet for me but I need to fuck you open a little. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He gives you a peck that is far too sweet for the way he presses a finger into your pussy, making you swear and arch into him. It’s not nearly enough as he strokes slowly, finger brushing right against your g-spot on the first few strokes. Yoongi senses you want more as you claw at the back of his neck, sliding in another finger.

You sigh, letting your eyes close as he worships your chest with his mouth, sucking and licking and peppering sweet kisses everywhere he can reach. All the while he fucks you open with his skilled fingers, making your hips roll in time with his wrist.

Yoongi makes you lightheaded, hitting just the right spot that you’re already reeling and toppling toward a terrifyingly quick release. Yoongi can feel you fluttering around him and he laughs before nibbling your ear. “Can you take a third?” You nod, even though you’re not sure. He rewards you with a kiss on the cheek and a soft, “Sweet girl.”

Three fingers are a lot. You make a sound and tighten slightly, and he slows his pace, letting you adjust. The burn begins to fade and you wiggle your hips. His grin is gummy as his wrist moves again, working you until your legs are wide open for him, begging for him.

Your first orgasm lingers just beyond you. For a moment, you think he’ll stop before it. Instead, he sits on his knees, bringing his other hand into play to circle your clit, ripping your orgasm right through you.

You turn your head and shout into a pillow as his hands guide you through it, gasping at how fucking good he makes you feel. You’re still trembling and blinking in a daze when he pulls his fingers from you, staring at you as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sticking out his togue to lick your cum off his glistening digits.

“Mmm. My favorite.”

You could pass out.

Yoongi reaches for the condom then and rips it with his teeth, eyes never leaving you as he rolls it over his  leaking tip. Just as the anxiety is about to sneak up on you, Yoongi murmurs, “Do you still want to do this?” You nod. “I need to hear you say it. We can stop now if you want and just go to sleep. You are completely in control.”

“Please,” you murmur again. “I want you. Like really fucking bad, Yoongi.”

Yoongi smiles, and it’s different from the others. You don’t know why, you just know that it is. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you realize you’re holding your breath as he carefully guides the his cock into you.

And fuck Yoongi is thick, his cock breaching you with tight pressure as he slowly slides in, eyes on you the entire time. He stops after he’s less than halfway in, murmuring, “Breathe for me.” So you do, taking a deep breath because it’s been a while, your walls stretching around him. “That’s it,” he nods. “Keep breathing.”

It’s hard to keep breathing. Not because it hurts, but because it’s Yoongi and his hands are on you and your hands are pulling him close as he bottoms out, moaning. He immediately cages you in, his closeness overwhelming and heady. 

Yoongi kisses you as he pulls all the way out before slamming back in, stealing your breath with how deep and targeted the stroke is. He does it again and again, fucking you into the mattress, each stroke slow but hard. 

“You feel like heaven,” he gasps, setting a pace. Your hands find purchase at the back of his neck, holding his mouth to your throat while you run your fingers through his hair. “Fuck that feels good.”

“You like your hair pulled, huh?” You gasp as he changes the angle, hands going under your ass to lift you. His cock hits deeper now, tip just kissing the edge of your cervix, and holy fuck. “Fuuuuck please keep fucking me like that.”

“Anything you ask,” he pants, doing exactly that.

You feel like he’s ripping you apart and making you back up as he fucks into you with purpose. It feels maddeningly good, and you can feel how fucking easily he’s bringing you to another orgasm.

Yoongi feels it too. “Mmm like that,” he breathes. You plant your feet on the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust. “You gonna come just like this?” You nod as your orgasm mounts. He laughs, the sound is breathy and dark. “Yeah, you fucking are.”

Words don’t exist when he fucks into you harder, chasing your second orgasm of the night. You start to squirm against him and you feel his cocky smile against your neck before he licks a strip up your throat, stopping just under your ear as he murmurs, “Play with your clit for me. Wanna feel you come so bad.”

You do as he says, dipping your hand between your sweaty bodies and circling your clit in tight, fast circles. You buck into him, the stimulation driving you toward what feels like madness. You’re gasping and you must nearly be screaming because Yoongi covers your mouth and whispers a string of words, begging you to come for him.

All at once, your orgasm hits. It’s stronger than the first and it lasts longer, and you’re babbling into Yoongi’s hands as your limbs lock and your feet dig into the bed. You’re panting as you come down from it, Yoongi’s hand leaving your mouth as you gasp for air.

Yoongi slows his pace, letting you catch your breath as he slowly fucks you, kissing your sweaty brow, your nose, your cheeks. Everything he does feels intimate.

“So pretty when you come,” he groans, catching your lips in a messy kiss. “Really want to see you ride me if you can. It’s okay if you’re tired-“

“Wanna,” you mumble. Your orgasm has left you a little dreamy and dazed, but your thighs aren’t trembling with exhaustion just yet.

Gently, Yoongi pulls out of you, condom shining with your cum. Your pussy is soaked and messy but you don’t care. Yoongi settles himself against the headboard, still panting lightly. He’s sweaty and sticky and you love the feel of him as you crawl into his lap, reaching behind you to grab his cock, slick and perfect for an easy glid.

Sinking down on him, you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders, feeling the muscles twitch. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging in hard. You feel so much fuller with him under you and it’s divine.

Yoongi slaps your ass lightly, making you look down at him. He’s grinning as his hand soothes the stinging flesh. “Couldn’t help myself. I like your ass.”

“You like my tits too,” you observe, rolling your hips and letting yourself take on a natural motion.

The slide of his cock is leisurely and brilliant, earning appreciative sounds from Yoongi as his hands leave your ass to grip your tits. “Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward to lavish a nipple with his tongue. “You’re absolutely right.”

Every nerve is lit up as he lavishes attention to your breasts as you roll your hips, grinding your cunt into his pubic bone. He gets distracted when you swivel your hips, lifting yourself lightly. You smile as he closes his eyes, letting you take control, lifting yourself up and down, pulling pretty sounds from his bitten lips and flushed throat.

Sweat beads on his chest, making your hands slip. He grabs your wrists, holding your hands against him as you press down on him for leverage to bounce. Yoongi is hissing and whispering your name, trembling.

“Just like that,” he gasps.

“Yeah?”

“Mm gonna come if you keep it up.”

“Good,” you huff. “Wanna see your face when you cum.”

“Kiss me,” he asks, voice deep.

So you do, pressing your chests together. He wraps his arms around you, locking you together as he plants his feet on the bed, fucking into you with abandon, mouths tangled. His brows are pinched and you’re momentarily fixated on his face. The button tip of his nose. The blush in his round cheeks. The soft curve of his eyes.

Min Yoongi is beautiful and your heart swells painfully.

“Fuck- gonna come.”

“Come on,” you whisper.

Yoongi thrusts into you and freezes, cocking twitching as he comes heavily. He hides his face in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His moan vibrates against you. You clutch at him, equally shaky and exhausted as he comes down from his high.

For a moment, you’re locked in a sweaty embrace, skin sticking to one another. Yoongi shifts slightly and presses a kiss to your mouth, short and sweet. You smile and gently untangle yourself from him. He’s careful as he gets up, tying the condom and heading to the trash before re-routing to the toilet.

“Good thinking,” you grunt. You can’t leave evidence. “Maybe open the windows.”

Yoongi chuckles and does exactly that as you lay on the bed, thighs quaking. You watch him lift the windows open, cool air entering immediately. He’s beautiful in the moonlight, carved from marble.

“C’mon,” he mumbles tiredly. You furrow your brow as he pulls at your limbs. “Shower.”

-

Washed and sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, you watch as Yoongi towels off his hair, throwing the damp towel into the laundry basket. You feel warm all over, watching him stretch like a cat, a small strip of skin visible just above his sweatpants when he moves.

The shower was innocent enough. You let Yoongi wash you off and place wet, open-mouth kisses on your shoulder, returning the favor. Even though you were chastised for wandering hands. You can’t help it. He’s addictive, even standing in the middle of the room with a gentle grin, looking at you.

“You’re cute,” he hums.

You look down at yourself. A pillow is tucked between your arms and legs, holding it for comfort as your nerves begin to spike at the thought of having any sort of emotional talk with Yoongi. You don’t know what you want to say, exactly. 

“Can I sit next to you?” he asks. “Or is that too close?”

“We were pretty close a few minutes ago, so yeah.”

He smiles. “I like to make sure.”

Yoongi sits down, the bed dipping with his weight. You angle yourself to face him lightly, taking a deep breath. He’s still tinted pink from the shower and the sex. He looks tired, though, and a little shy as he gives you a soft smile, matching your position and folding his legs.

“I feel like you need to hear things in explicits,” Yoongi says, making your heart kick up. “I liked you in college. Never made a move because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I think I realized it that night your freshman year you picked us up from Union and it was us in the front, Jungkook and Jin in the back.” He smiles fondly. Your heart pounds listening to his confession as he continues, “And before you ask why now, it’s because I haven’t seen you in two years, and the thought of going another two more without doing something about how I felt seemed… depressing.”

Yoongi says it so easily. You stare at him as he watches you with a soft expression, waiting for you patiently. It’s difficult to wrap your head around. He likes you. Has for a while. All of those years you spent wondering what if had lingered right there, completely unseen by you. 

But he still hasn’t said what he wants out of this, or what he expects, and you’re unsure of what your next steps are. Years of seeing people date unofficially and never leave the talking stage makes you nervous. Trying to think of what to tell your brother makes you nervous. 

You chew on your lip. Yoongi pokes your knee lightly. “Say whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

“I just… so do you want to date me?”

He nods. “If it’s something you’re interested in.”

You could pass out from happiness, but instead, you push forward. “What about my brother? Doesn’t it bother you at all?”

“Of course it bothers me. I’ve had conversation at length with Seokjin about how he just wants the best for you. I know your brother trusts me implicitly, but I don’t know if he would think I’m what’s best for you.”

“Why? He loves you.”

“Nothing will ever be good enough in his eyes - he might get over that with someone else, but he might feel resistant at first that his friend wants to date his sister. I'll convince him, though. If that's what you want.”

“Really?”

He grins down at his lap. “Yeah. He’s going to want to throttle me at first,” he shrugs. “But what good is a best friend if you can’t have hard conversations?”

“What if he said no?”

“I’d tell him too bad. I want to keep fucking that throat of yours.”

You make an unpleasant noise and peel yourself from the bed, making to move to the other one. Yoongi laughs after you. “Don’t do that,” Yoongi mumbles, catching your hand and pulling you toward his bed. “I said I liked you. I’m not trying to pull a fast one. I said what I meant. This isn’t some stupid immature ploy to string you along. I’m an adult, and so is your brother, quite frankly.”

His hand is warm as he sits. He won’t let go, squeezing your hand lightly and making you look at him. You try to steady your heart- to take what he’s saying at face value. “You’ve spent a lot of time thinking I’m too cool for you,” Yoongi murmurs. He hits the nail on the head and you stare at him, mouth slightly agape. “And I’m sorry if I ever did something to encourage that way of thinking.” 

“It’s nothing you did. I just…”

He pulls you so that you’re standing in between his legs. He lifts your hands and puts them on his shoulders, you chew the inside of his cheek, tentatively meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to explain the way you feel. I understand.” 

“Stop being so nice.”

“You want me to be mean, huh?” he teases, leaning to nip at your wrist. You pout at him and he chuckles, hands gripping the back of your thighs and squeezing. He looks happy when he looks up at you. Really happy. “Would that make it easier on you? If I was mean.”

“Yes. You are painfully understanding. What’s a girl to do?” 

“Like I said. If this is something you’d be interested in… I can talk to Jin. Explain that I’d like to get to know you in a romantic setting. We’re all adults here, it’s going to bother him but surely not forever.” 

“Okay. Not… not this weekend though. I don’t want to ruin the entire weekend. I do like you, by the way,” you add, realizing he’s done most of the confessing. “I just… you were sort of this like... untouchable entity, in my head. Something that I was allowed to dream about but not have. It might take a little adjusting for me to not feel… I guess the word is timid?”

He kisses a wrist. “Okay. Come on, I’m cold and tired.”

“What if Ren comes back in the morning?”

Yoongi is already making space for you in the bed, pulling back the blankets for you. You tentatively climb into the bed, seeking the warmth of his side and the smell of vanilla soap on his skin. “Door is locked,” he mumbles. “But set an alarm if you want, I don’t care. Just get the fuck over here, sweet girl.” 

With a soft smile, you get in bed next to him. He’s quick to wrap arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your eyes close immediately at his nearness, a thrill going through you when he hums tiredly and kisses you on the head once.

Intimacy like this is new. You’re not used to sharing a space like this, least of all with Yoongi. It makes you laugh, to think that had either of you just spoken up, you could have had this a little bit sooner. 

“What’s so funny?” It comes out half coherent and you open your eyes to peek at him. His eyes are barely open, but he’s watching you, eyes swimming. 

“You’re more affectionate than I imagined.” 

He nods. “Just wan’ be close,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut, breath fanning your forehead. “Tired.”

“Goodnight,” you murmur, getting brave and placing a quick kiss on his chin. He doesn’t open his eyes or reply, but his mouth twitches into a smile before his face smooths out, drifting. 

So you fall asleep. 

-

No one disturbs you in the morning. You forego the advice to set an alarm, trusting in the locked door to keep you safe. The entire house sleeps late into the morning, giving you time to be pulled from sleep slowly, blinking in confusion when you feel another person next to you before you remember it’s Yoongi snoring lightly behind you. 

Shifting slightly, you try to get out of bed. Yoongi makes a whiny noise, pulling you back to him. You giggle, turning to look at him over your shoulder. His face is puffy with sleep and his hair is sticking in different directions.

Adorable. 

“I have to pee,” you complain. He shrugs and pulls you to him tighter, back pressed against his front. “Yoooongi.”

“You’re warm.”

“I’ll be gone for a second.”

He pouts, eyes still closed but he lets you go. You smile all the way to the bathroom. It’s lucky that you go to the bathroom. The moment you begin washing your face, the door starts rattling to the room. Yoongi hollers that he’s got it, dragging himself to let Ren into the room before tossing himself on the bed that Ren once occupied.

Ren looks suspicious as she enters the room, her eyes dragging from where Yoongi looks like he’s gone right back asleep to you bent over the sink in sweatpants and a baggy shirt, faucet running. For a second, you stare. She knows. She knows she knows she knows. 

“Ew, why is the window open? It’s freezing in here,” Ren huffs, diving into your bed and wrapping herself in your sheets. You fight the urge to tell her bad idea but you bite your tongue. “Please don’t tell me you like the room as freezing as she does?”

“Ren, I let you fuck in my room, the least you could do is let me sleep in.”

Ren rolls her eyes and her attention focuses back on you as you finish washing your face. “Does he snore?”

“He does, when he sleeps at all. He’s a night owl.” 

“Right, so let me sleep now,” he protests. 

Sunlight filters into the room as you and Ren talk in hushed tones. Yoongi goes back to sleep, which is incredibly… normal. 

In the bathroom, you and Ren follow a simple skincare routine. She glances at the nest of blankets that Yoongi has created in her bed before she murmurs, “Thank you for last night. I know it was probably weird sleeping in the same room as him.”

Guilt trickles in. You think about telling her. You so badly want to tell her everything, to spill it out and hear her opinion. You scrub extra hard with your exfoliant as if you can grind the guilt out of you. 

Sighing, you lean down and wash your face. “It was fine,” you manage. “Yoongi practically lived at my house in high school. He slept there all the time. We used to eat midnight snacks in the kitchen together.”

Except you never had sex when Yoongi spent the night growing up. Even in college when he’d spend holidays there. That was a huge difference and you felt a dark, dark pit form in your stomach as you smiled at her, shrugging. Played it cool. 

“Still,” Ren sighs. “Wish it was different for you.

You glance at Yoongi. After the weekend. This hiding would be over in a few days, and Yoongi would talk to Seokjin about his feelings.

Only two more days of being a liar.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A little show

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking

A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within

credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.

I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.

I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.

My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.

After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.

I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.

I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.

But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.

On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.

Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.

With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.

I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.

I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.

My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.

That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.

My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.

I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.

But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.

I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.

I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.

When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.

“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.

“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.

“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.

“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.

“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.

We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.

Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.

On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.

“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.

“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”

Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.

“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.

“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.

“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.

“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.

“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.

“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.

I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.

For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.

God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.

The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.

Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.

Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.

The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.

On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.

Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.

Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.

It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.

And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.

With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.

And I was not disappointed.

The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.

Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.

But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.

He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.

But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.

I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.

A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.

When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.

Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.

Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.

So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.

It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.

Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.

I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.

I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.

His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.

And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.

The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.

The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.

If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.

My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.

Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.

I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.

I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.

But not today it turned out.

Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.

Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.

“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.

I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.

Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.

I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.

Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.

Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.

Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.

I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.

“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.

I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.

“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.

He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.

Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.

Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.

I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.

“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”

My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.

With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.

For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.

Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.

“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.

“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.

Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.

Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.

I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.

“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.

“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.

“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.

“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”

“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.

“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.

“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.

There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.

The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.

He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.

The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.

Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.

“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.

His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.

The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.

I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.

I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.

“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.

“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.

Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.

My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.

“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.

“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.

We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.

“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.

“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.

“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.

“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.

Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.

When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.

“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.

“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.

“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.

“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.

“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.

I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”

The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.

“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.

“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.

I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.

“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.

“Sure, let’s go!”

Bonus:

“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.

“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.

“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.

As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.

“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.

Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.

I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:

“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”

“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.

Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”

---

Happy Agust, Hali 💕

Because Mixtape!Yoongi has been living RENT FREE in my mind for the last week, can I please request a fluffy drabble where Yoongi befriends and/or adopts a cat 👀 ? I’m pushing the cat dad agenda here… 😏

Thank youuuu 💕

YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT. Thank you for being so patient with me bby you literally were on the list of had to do because you know I'm obsessed with the idea and finally, we revisit our favorite Mixtape couple and Cat Dad Yoongi.

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Yoongi can't stop thinking about the white cat he spotted alone and in the cold. Who are you to deny him?

❀ Word Count: 3,915

❀ Genre: Older brothers best friend, f2l, a lil' angst

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Yoongi Cat Dad Agenda, long hair Yoongi yes this is a warning, literally fluff and an excuse to give Yoongi a cat

❀ Published: 3,915

❀ A/N: This is a part of the Mixtape series as an extra chapter. You can 100% read this as a standalone, though you might enjoy it a tiny bit more having read Mixtape!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Playlist | Series Masterlist | Extra Chapter 2

Bright sun beats down on your back, warming your chilled skin through the softness of your sweater. You pause lifting boxes for a moment, content to stand in the shaft of light and close your eyes, head tilted toward the source of your brief hiatus from the cold.

Wind skitters down the road and you shiver. Eyes fluttering open in time to see Yoongi coming out of the apartment lobby, rubbing his hands together for warmth. A beanie is pulled down low over his long, black hair – long enough that you’ve threatened him within an inch of his life if it cuts it – and a long-sleeve shirt that’s two sizes too big.

“What are you doing?” he asks, gesturing to where you stand motionless in the sun, box in hand. “You know you can’t photosynthesize, right?

You pout. “You don’t know that. Maybe I’m a plant.”

He hums as he passes you, hand absently touching your elbow as he does. Yoongi ducks into the trunk of the car, pulling out the last box. “Perhaps you’re right. Quiet, soaking up the sun, will die if not given attention.”

“Hey that last one isn’t true!”

The trunk snaps shut, Yoongi grinning at his little joke as he lifts the box. “It is a little.”

Maybe Yoongi has a point.

There was a time when you never dreamed of demanding attention from Min Yoongi. Most of your early life had been spent trying to stay out of his way until that fateful day in the piano room. After that, you co-existed on the edge of one another’s lives. His attention had been something you craved but never went out of your way to receive.

Thinking about your thirteen-year-old self writing about having a crush on Min Yoongi in her diary makes you smile. She had no idea one day everything would make sense. That you would come into synced orbits, and that you’d move in with him at the peak of his career, and a positive shift in yours.

Both of you adjust grips on your boxes and head toward the apartment lobby door to make your final carrying trip up to your new apartment. It’s deep in downtown near Yoongi’s new studio that he bought and opened himself to extend the branch of the label he works under, and it has the perfect large space for your new work at home office.

Best of all, it overlooks the entire city. At night, it looks like the stars have drifted from the heavens to float among the mortals, moving among the dreams and the lives of thousands.

Yoongi pulls up short before opening the door to the lobby, making a soft sound of surprise. You glance at him to see his gaze fixated near the northeast corner of the building where 77th North Street meets 4th Avenue.

At first, you see cars at a stop light. The winter-frosted glass of the coffee shop and dance studio across the street. The bikers bundled in puffer jackets, beanies pulled low over their ears.

Movement catches your eyes lower. You find the object of Yoongi’s attention- a small, white cat with its head cocked, blue eyes fixed on the pair of you.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, kitty.” It meows in response, making the side of your mouth twitch. “Cute.”

Yoongi looks up at the stretch of windows above your apartment building. “I wonder if it has an owner? I don’t see a collar. It’s kind of cold out here.”

“Unsure. Pretty cat, though.”

Yoongi hums, eyes drifting back to the cat. For a moment, you admire the way the cold turns Yoongi’s face pink. He flushes easily, but even more so during winter. He doesn’t notice your slow smile as you watch him and he watches the cat.

With a shrug of his shoulders and a quick shuffle of his box, Yoongi pulls the door open to the hotel lobby. “I’m sure it has an owner. I’ll let the lobby manager know there’s a cat outside, though.”

You smile at him as you pass. He doesn’t notice, eyes drifting back to the cat watching you one more time before letting the tinted, glass door shut. “Okay.” He makes his way to the counter as you move to the elevator. “Don’t take too long. I’m starving.”

Inside the new apartment is warm. It smells like the crisp, citrus candle flickering on the granite countertop. Boxes are stacked neatly in corresponding rooms, marked with your neat handwriting and Yoongi’s slanted scribble.

All of the furniture is already placed and put together. The movers had done most of the work the day before and Yoongi had spent most of the evening into the late night putting everything together, the whine of the drill backtracked by his curses and hisses when something didn’t mesh right.

Every part of the home – and it does already feel like home – is splashed with the watercolors of your shared life. The living room is muted neutrals, the pillows soft and worn from the nights of falling asleep on the couch and the throw blanket frayed at the edges from Yoongi’s sleepy feet stepping on the hem while wearing it like a cape around his old apartment.

There are three bedrooms, one of which now has a desk for you to work at on one side and the other with a massive slab of desk, shelving, and tangled wires for Yoongi’s little home studio. The master and the office both have large windows facing the city, letting in the bright winter light during the day and the glow of the city at night.

You check the writing on the box in your arms. Books is scribbled in Yoongi’s slanted writing, explaining why it’s so heavy. You shuffle to the guest bedroom where Yoongi has lined either side of the bed with tall bookshelves and deposit the box in front of the empty shelf.

Dusting your hands, you walk back to the kitchen, covered in a combination of folded cardboard, paper towel rolls, power tools, and wrapped glassware. You start unwrapping the glasses, sliding them in neat rows in the cabinet.

Yoongi doesn’t return right away. You lose yourself in the rhythm of organizing, crumbling the wrapping paper, and shoving it into the trash. When your stomach growls, you look up at the clock and realize that it’s been twenty minutes and Yoongi still hasn’t come upstairs.

You frown and move to your phone. Just as you swipe the screen to call, the front door opens and your boyfriend comes in. His nose and cheeks are frozen pink, and his hands are a little discolored from the cold outside and the grip he has on the box.

He sets it down by the door, too tired to carry it in as the door clicks shut behind him and he straightens, huffing a bit.

“Everything okay?” you ask, brows raised.

“Yeah.” He’s a touch out of breath. “The lobby manager said he doesn’t know anyone who has a missing cat and doesn’t have anyone having a white cat on file. But people bring in pets and don’t tell the apartment all the time so I went out to take a picture and post to that community page on our rent portal in case someone doesn’t know it’s missing.”

Yoongi flexes his cold fingers. You hold your hands out to him and he immediately responds, drifting to you like a magnet. His hands are ice cold when you take them in yours, rubbing them to create heat and friction.

Once Yoongi’s hands have a little more color and warmth, you kiss the back of his right hand briefly before drifting to the fridge. “What do you want for lunch?”

“Sushi?”

You hum in agreement, hands searching for the plastic box you had picked up earlier. Yoongi leans on the counter behind you as you pull out soy sauce and the spicy mayo, sitting it next to you.

“You think he’ll be okay?”

“Hmmm?”

“The cat,” Yoongi clarifies. You close the fridge and turn to face him. His arms are crossed over his chest, sleeves pulled down over his hands. His gaze is focused on the floor, lost in thought as he chews his lip lightly. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

A smile creeps on your face as you soften at the edges. Yoongi looks up at you as you wrap your arms around his middle. He’s still a little cool from being outside again, but the warmth that the smell of sandalwood and his arms returning the hug chase away the cold.

“I’m sure he will be. We’ll keep an eye on it, yeah?”

You tuck yourself into Yoongi’s neck, closing your eyes. You feel him nod and hum in response. His hands play with the hem of your shirt and you sigh, melting into him. You slot perfectly against him, a puzzle piece finding its home after years of almosts and what ifs.

Yoongi’s stomach growls and you both laugh. You peel away from him and press a soft kiss to his mouth, sweet and pink. “Let’s eat.”

-

Something light washes across the darkness of your dreams. You sigh and squirm deeper into the pillow, willing to sink back into a comfortable sleep.

But the glow somewhere – a little beyond your sleep – is distracting. You hear tapping next to you and you grumble. The bed is cold, the windows cracked at Yoongi’s request. Eyes closed, you seek his warmth, hands following the soft dip in the bed next to you until your hands come into contact with bare skin.

“Ah,” Yoongi hisses. “Cold.”

His voice pulls you the rest of the way from your seep. Heavy eyes blink open, flinching at the bright, white light splitting the darkness. His phone is held near his face, casting him in an eerie glow with squinted eyes.

“What are you doing?” you croak, voice scratchy and deep. You close your eyes to hide from the light of the phone, but scoot closer to him anyway. Only Yoongi could sleep shirtless with the window cracked in a freezing apartment. “What time is it?”

“Three.”

“What, your emails couldn’t wait?”

“Oh I’m not emailing.” He lets you suck the warmth from his skin as you bury your face in his neck and angle it towards his pillow, finally muting the light. His heart thrums under your arm as you wrap yourself around him, squeezing. “I was checking to see if anyone claimed the cat yet.”

You pause, momentarily confused. Oh. The white cat. “Oh.”

“No one has yet.”

“Hmm, well I doubt anyone is going to at three in the morning, Yoons.”

He sighs. The phone light vanishes entirely and he reaches to set it on the nightstand, temporarily dislodging you. Yoongi settles in again, turning toward you slightly and wrapping his arms around you in return. You can’t help but smile as he sighs, warm breath hitting your brow.

“You’re probably right.”

“We can check on kitty in the morning.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel him nod. “Okay. Night, sweet girl.”

“Mmm. Night.”

-

An empty bed greets you when you wake up again early in the morning. Your muscles pull tight as you stretch, a strained sound escaping your lips as you look around the room for any sign of Yoongi. The light coming through the white slats in the blinds is dark grey and the clock on the nightstand shows that it’s a little past seven in the morning.

Slowly, you sit up, your body in a momentary state of grogginess. The master bathroom door is open with the light turned off, but you can see the light from the living room and kitchen area on underneath the bathroom door.

Peeling off the blankets, you hurry across the room to shut the window, rubbing your hands together and going in search of Yoongi.

Coffee wafts from the kitchen. There’s only a single lamp in the living room on paired with the light over the stove, casting the apartment in shadows and gentle light. Yoongi is curled on the couch, feet tucked under him and his favorite blanket wrapped around him as he looks at his phone.

For a moment, you stop and stare at him. His hair is messy and sticking up in places. It’s long enough that it reaches his shoulders these days, flipping outward when he air dries it or from being tucked underneath a beanie. His face is puffy with sleep, the hand not holding his phone wrapped around a still-steaming cup of coffee.

“Hi,” you murmur, drawing his attention from his phone. He smiles at you, full gums on display and eyes crinkling. Your heart flips – it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together now. Being the object of Yoongi’s affection still knocks the wind out of you after wanting it for so long. “It’s early.”

He hums but clicks the phone off and unfolds the blanket, holding it open like a bat wing for you to slot yourself into. You hurry over, snuggling into his side eagerly. He’s still shirtless, skin like a natural heater as you press against him. He wraps the wing around you, keeping the heat in as you settle.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, just naturally woke up. Noticed you were gone though so I came looking.”

“Hmm. Couldn’t sleep.”

You crane your neck to look at him.

Yoongi’s dark eyes are fixated on the window. They’re frosty with mist, the cool air outside at war with the hotter air of the apartment. His lips are a little chapped like he’s been biting them all morning and his eyes are unfocused, the kind of look when he’s thinking about new music or trying to remember something.

A small crease forms on his brow. You tentatively lift a hand, slipping it through the hole in your blanket wrap to brush the tips of your fingers along the shape of his jaw. Long lashes flutter shut and he leans into your touch, seeking the comfort of skin against skin.

“What’s wrong?” you ask the question so softly you think he doesn’t hear you. Your hand slips to the hair framing his face, brushing the dark strands back. “Yoons?”

“I’m worried about the cat.”

Yoongi’s words come out like an admission of guilt. His mouth pouts slightly and he chews on the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t open his eyes, but the dip of his brows increases as his expression melts into a frown.

“You have to give people time.”

“I’m just worried. It’s cold.”

You examine him. Even the calming strokes of your hand in his hair don’t chase away the frown. You remember all of the times that your touch could soothe him. You remember the way you first ran your hands through his hair like this, long ago at the Park cabin on a vacation you’ll never forget.

“What do you want to do, baby?” He opens his eyes, a question in them. You smile. “You obviously want to do something. What is it?”

He chews on his lip and you prod his mouth. He’s a little bashful as he lets the abused flesh go. “I may have… ordered some things.”

“Oh?”

“You know, to like… keep it here while we wait for an owner to come forward.”

“Uh-huh. What things?”

“Food. Bowls. Some toys.”

You grin. Your soft, sweet boyfriend can’t help himself. He’s the same way with people – buying things he sees people needing. Wordlessly putting gluten-free bread in the pantry for Jimin (and guarding when Taehyung tries to steal it). Buying a new wireless headset for Ren so she can join Jungkook when he streams. Sending Seokjin a stack of recipes Yoongi’s family cook has finally agreed to divulge.

Yoongi speaks in a silent language of love, and it makes you lean forward to press a sold kiss to his jaw before pulling away to get up.

“Where are you going?” He’s wide-eyed and soft when he looks up at you as you stand and stretch.

“Get dressed. Let’s go get your cat.”

-

It takes twenty minutes in the blistering morning cold, a couple of curses and hopeless looks from Yoongi, and constant encouragement from you before you find the cat in the parking garage under someone’s tire.

Yoongi immediately gets on his knees, staining his sweatpants as he tucks his head under the wheel well, looking up and speaking softly to the cat in question. You watch, shivering in the shade and arms crossed over your chest for another ten minutes before Yoongi slips his hands upward, only retreating when he has a dirty, white-coated cat with blue eyes in his hands.

You offer Yoongi the blanket that you’re clutching – Yoongi’s favorite, as he insisted. The cat is latched onto Yoongi’s shirt, your lips twitching in a soft smile. Yoongi whispers to the feline, head ducked down as you approach.

The cat turns its attention to you, eyes going narrow as it hisses. You hesitate when you lift the blanket, looking at the curve claws that snag in Yoongi’s shirt and the rigid line of hair running up its spine. Yoongi hushes the creature and nods at you.

Carefully, under the suspicious gaze of the cat, you wrap it in a blanket, sliding the material under Yoongi’s grip until he has a bundle, a white little face peering back at him from a checkered blanket. It’s cute, pulling lightly at your heartstrings.

Inside your apartment, Yoongi goes straight to the couch, the bundle in his arms as he murmurs to the cat in question. You watch wordlessly from the kitchen, a smile still on your face as he tucks the cat into his lap, his long hair hiding his face as he carefully unwraps the blanket.

The cat does not move from his lap. Instead, it curls up, blinking its eyes at Yoongi. You hear him laugh, just a soft breath of sound as he scratches between its dirty ears.

“We’ll just keep you until your owners realize your missing,” Yoongi says as you fill a bowl of water. “I think you need a little bit of a bath, hmm?”

You place the bowl of water near the couch, straightening to see a pair of blue eyes trained on you. You offer the cat a nervous smile. “Pretty.”

“Do you want to pet him?”

“How do you know it’s a him?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I might be wrong.”

Tentatively you sit down and hold out a hand. The cat stares at you warily before taking a few suspect sniffs. When it decides you’re acceptable, it rubs its shin on your fingers tentatively, closing its eyes.

“Just until the owners find it?” you ask cryptically.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi’s eyes never stray from the feline.

-

Week one you put up ‘cat found posters.’

There is a bed and a handful of toys in the living room. The white cat is clean after a yowling, hissing and screaming bathtub experience. You walk through the living room, peering at where Yoongi sleeps on the couch. His hair covers his face, lips parted lightly.

And at the foot of the couch is the cat, curled into a donut with its head resting on top of Yoongi’s foot.

-

Week two you trip over a cat toy and scowl. Sensing your irritation, said cat appears around the corner, winding between your legs and rubbing himself on your calves. You sigh, the irritation bleeding out of you as you bend down and offer a hand. He nuzzles you, purring briefly before rushing off.

You hear Yoongi greet the cat in the office and shake your head, though you smile a little bit.

-

“Can we take Sugar to the vet? I want to make sure he’s a he and that he’s got… whatever shots cats need.” You look up, pausing with a mouthful of toast. Yoongi is hovering near the kitchen, looking over at the cat that is kneading its bed. “I just want to make sure we keep him healthy?”

“Sure-“ You cock your head. “Did you just call the cat Sugar?” Yoongi blushes. You swallow the toast and cough a little, having swallowed too quickly. Yoongi is fast to grab you a glass of water which you take with a grateful glance. “You named him?”

“He looks like a jar of sugar.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it felt weird to keep saying ‘it’ and ‘the cat’ and not having a name.”

“Right.”

“And he’s very sweet.”

“This is true.”

Yoongi’s eyes are soft and round when he looks at you. Your heart melts a little, seeing that gentle flicker in his eyes. You don’t put a name to that look, that little gleam that you know it’s there. You don’t want to jinx it, to give it a name to have it taken away.

Instead, you take another gulp of water. “Let’s make an appointment.”

-

Week four, no one has claimed Sugar, but Sugar has claimed more space and more toys in your home. A new bag of cat food is on the counter along with a jar of catnip. There is now a basket for Sugar to contain his toys. And a pretty black collar with a little jar and a name.

And a doting Yoongi who walks across the living room with his phone tucked into his shoulder on a business call, carrying the growing-plump feline with him in his arms. He heads towards you, listening to the other voice on the line. He gestures to the fridge, hands full of Sugar.

You push off the counter pulling open the fridge and removing the bottle of Gatorade your boyfriend nods at. You crack the top and a grin spreads across his face. The smile grows when you pull a straw out of the drawer, plop it in and wedge the drink into one of Yoongi’s hands.

Sugar hisses at the disturbance, rolling his head to look at you defiantly.

Yoongi tuts at the cat. “Don’t hiss at mommy.”

Both yours and Yoongi’s attention snaps to one another. Your stomach flips at the term of endearment. It’s just a cat, but Yoongi’s slip – the assignment of a role in the creature’s life, an implication that… he wants to keep the cat too is there.

“Sorry,” Yoongi says absently. He looks at you when he says it, but addresses the person on the phone. “The cat was hissing at my girlfriend.”

There’s laughter on the other line. You open your hands and Yoongi nods, passing Sugar to you. Sugar likes Yoongi more, but he doesn’t mind you either. He rubs his head into the crook of your elbow as Yoongi starts talking about a soundboard that you know nothing about.

“Let daddy work,” you tell Sugar, giving Yoongi a devious grin. He pauses, midsentence, phone pressed to his ears, eyes dark. “How about we watch Sailor Moon, Sugar?”

-

Week five the ‘cat found’ posters come down.

“Yeah, his name is Sugar,” you tell Jungkook on the phone, crumbling the sheets of paper. Jungkook squeals on the other side of the line. “Do you guys want to come up and see him next weekend?”

-

Week thirty-three, Sugar sleeps between you and Yoongi on the couch, purring lightly as you drift to sleep, head propped on Yoongi’s shoulder as the credits to Naruto roll.

---

Mixtape | Four (Finale) | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You’ve had a crush on Yoongi for most of your life. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years and things go less than according to plan.

☾ Word Count: 12,798

☾ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers/brother’s bff, smut, angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Explicit language, implied age gap (three years), anxiety attack depictions, light depictions of self-deprecating thoughts, drinking alcohol, depictions of drinking and being drunk, petty squabbles between women, light depictions of depression and depressive thoughts, angst (not SUPER heavy but it's there) tough conversations with siblings, Jin is kind of mean and not super understanding, time skips, explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, oral (f. receiving), missionary, forced orgasms, doggy, clit stimulation, light mentions of subspace-similar mindset post sex, fluff

☾ Published: May, 2022

☾ A/N: This is an absolute caffeine fueled writing binge. This chapter is not as long as I was expecting it to be - I edited it down a ton because while I was writing the angst, I started to feel like it wasn't true to the story. Our characters are all mostly mature and honestly, I felt like a very very drawn out fight was not the right move. So I re-wrote the scenes, and this is the result. Thank you for all the amazing people who left comments and read this little four part story. I hope that you found as much comfort in the friendships and Yoongi and reader as I did. I have no idea how to let these characters go, which means I will most likely write drabbles and mini stories here and there because I am feral for them. I hope this lives up to everyone's long awaited expectations!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Sweat beads on your neck, making your hair stick to you. The ache in your back and arms from hauling the cooler full of ice out to the porch is significant. Jimin had accidentally put the ice in the cooler before pulling it to the porch, meaning the pair of you had to haul it full of ice.

The entire house has been put to work with Seokjin at the lead, ordering people around with duties to prepare for the final night’s festivities. Despite the cool breeze outside, you’re sweaty an miserable, huffing and puffing by the time the cooler is in place.

“Why is Jin in charge?” you pant, collapsing on one of the lounge chairs on the porch. Jimin wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt, rolling his eyes. “Because he’s the oldest. That’s what he said this morning, anyway.” 

“It’s technically your party.”

“Is it, though?”

You grin. Seokjin always takes over for these things and though you poke fun and complain about him a little bit, you were all glad he takes on the pressure of party planning. He always makes sure to give people tasks that are suited to them, and it always makes things organized.

It is the only time Seokjin is organized. You can’t imagine how Yoongi is managing to share a room with your brother. Yoongi is meticulous with his laundry and organization of clothes while Seokjin tends to fold nothing before shoving it in drawers. 

Around lunch, Seokjin and Yoongi both come out to the porch to start grilling. Hungry mouths and rumbling stomachs fill the porch as you stand on a ladder, hanging lights that Jimin feeds you.

Though Jimin and Taehyung are now in on your secret, they don’t use the opportunity to poke fun at you or give you secret eyes when Yoongi hands you water. They behave as normal, jostling each other when the food is ready but relenting to let you grab a plate first. 

Everyone eats together on the porch. It’s loud but comfortable. You’re between Taehyung and Jungkook - the latter who steals fries from your plate. Glancing around at everyone, you can’t help but feel a pang. You love this group so much and have been through so much together. You hate that it’s your last day, wanting to stretch this time forever.

This time with them is so rare. You look down at your lap, chewing the corner of your lip. Your flight home tomorrow is early in the morning, and though you know you’re going back with good memories with your friends and a promise of something with Yoongi, you dread going home. 

Everyone lounges into the early afternoon. No one is eager to finish their tasks and afternoon naps become a disease Seokjin can no longer fight. Ren snaps a picture of Jungkook with his head in your lap, asleep. Taehyung is asleep on Jimin’s shoulder, who is asleep on the arm of the couch.

As the late afternoon creeps closer, everyone starts to shake off sleep and get ready. Yoongi catches you alone a single time as he passes you on the stairs, quick to steal a kiss on the cheek while he carries down wires and electrical strips for the DJ setup for him and Hoseok to take turns manning. 

Tossing yourself on the bed, you drift off to sleep, hoping that you can make the last of your night the best.

-

Music pulses from the ridiculously nice DJ setup Yoongi and Hoseok have made themselves. You weave through the living room toward the kitchen, having just come downstairs. There are people already crushed in the living room. Seokjin and Namjoon have carefully rearranged the furniture, pulling pieces into the theater room and locking the door. 

Your eyes slide up to where Yoongi and Hoseok are murmuring to one another over the music. Feeling your gaze, Yoongi’s eyes slide over to you. He’s in a loose button-up shirt, top buttons undone at the throat and tucked into his black jeans. His hair is styled back, a single loose lock of blonde hair brushing his brow.

You swallow thickly. He gives you a smug look and waves before you vanish into the kitchen. You spot Wendy out of the corner of your eye as she leans on the counter talking to Ren. You catch her eye for a moment and you smile out of instinct - it waivers immediately when she doesn’t return it.

With something like guilt and anxiety curling in your stomach, you root around the fridge, procuring the seltzers and beers you want. You feel Wendy’s gaze on you as you leave the kitchen and head toward your destination - he’s been your destination all weekend, but you try not to think about it too hard.

The music is louder by the speakers, vibrating your ribcage as you carefully navigate around the cords taped down to the wood flooring. You hand Hoseok a beer and he grins, kissing the top of your head and showering you in praise as you pass the other beer to Yoongi. His fingers brush yours meaningfully. 

“Thanks, kid.” 

You smile at the nickname and retreat, finding Taehyung at the beer pong table. You’re only there for seconds before Seokjin finds you. “Wanna wipe the floor with these fuckers?” he asks, sipping his beer and looking down at you. “Like old times.”

Your grin is feral. “Like old times,” you agree. 

Old times indeed. You and your brother slip into the muscle memory of your college years, working as a tag team to take down everyone else at the table. You’re cocky and you can be - you both have killer aim and when Seokjin sinks one in, elbowing you to hit the same cup before it can be taken away, you do. 

Jimin groans again, calling for a committee to ban siblings from the table. Even buzzed, you’re a better shot than he is, sticking your tongue out at him. 

Time passes. You’re not sure when Yoongi appears, but he blinks into existence on the other side of Seokjin, cat-eyes watching with muted interest as you work to clear the last of the cups of the pair you’re playing against. 

He whistles. “You two were always good at pong. Is there any betting going on?”

Seokjin claps Yoongi on the back, laughing loudly. “No one would take the bet, I’m afraid. Will you fill the space for me? I have to piss.” 

Yoongi nods. Seokjin switches spots with him, making a beeline for the stairs. Yoongi is casual as he bounces the ping pong ball in his hand. You’re enchanted as he catches it, rings glinting on his fingers. Across the table, there’s a group trying to figure out who had the next game. 

“What are you staring at, kid?”

Yoongi’s dark drawl brings your eyes to his. He’s smirking, eyes amused. He knows what you were staring at, but he loves when you confess to him. Loves to hear you admit it. You know this about him now so you answer, “Your hands.” 

“Remembering what they can do to you?”

“Something like that.” 

Together, you re-rack the cups. You don’t chat much, but you don’t feel the need to. Yoongi fills the space next to you wonderfully. He’s more accurate than your brother is, years of playing basketball in high school showing in his prowess.

You hate how the smallest things turn you on. 

Seokjin rejoins you at some point. Suri is next to him along with Mako, the trio cheering you on as you finish dominating the game. When Yoongi tries to give his space back to Seokjin, you’re surprised when your brother waves him off. He seems content to watch and jeer at others on the side.

You play a few rounds, adding water between your drinks as they begin to stack up. Eventually, you’re unseated by the Maxwell twins, who are arguably more in tune with one another than you and Yoongi are. It doesn’t entirely matter. You’re a little more than drunk, stumbling toward the wine cellar as Jimin hollers at you to get the Merlot. 

Skimming the racks in the dim, dry room, you hum the song you vaguely recognize coming through the shut door. Tapping your fingers along the bottles, you hear the door open and close behind you, feet shuffling down the stairs. 

“Jimin, I swear I won’t take the super expensive stuff, okay?”

A throaty chuckle behind you has you spinning. Yoongi walks down the aisle slowly. “Get the expensive shit,” he encourages. “Jimin’s parents won’t notice.”

“What’d you have to pay for the passcode?” You tease, disappearing in the next row.

You can hear his soft steps on the wooden floor as he follows you. You’re quick on your feet, ducking behind another rack of wine just as he comes around the corner. He groans. “Just the usual: my first child, a favor to fulfill at any time, swearing to never hurt you.”

“Hmm that’s a lot of promises for a wine room.”

“I didn’t want the wine room, I wanted what was inside of it.”

Yoongi beats you to an aisle, appearing at the end. You squeal and twist back, rushing through the room as he laughs loudly. “Where are you running off to, sweet girl?”

“If you want me you’ll catch me!”

You can’t help the giddy feeling thrumming through you. You rush down the farthest aisle of wine, trying to move as quietly as possible. As it turns out, it isn’t that quiet. Yoongi hears you and cuts you off on the jump, making you crash into him with a wild squeal.

Arms wrapped around you, he squeezes and hauls you upwards. Your feet leave the ground as he laughs, spinning you as you shriek and wiggle, trying to get away from him. He grunts before putting you unceremoniously on your feet, but not letting you go.

“You want to break your neck?” he asks as you spin in his arms. He’s only a little taller than you, but you don’t care. You grin up at him, wrapping your arms around his middle and hugging him closer. His breath smells like honied whiskey as he leans close to you. “I’d be really sad, kid.”

“Yeah? How sad.”

“Real sad. I would eat loads of Sour Patch Kids in your memory. Would watch Sailor Moon at least once a day. Would make a few playlists to cry to, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

He grins as you huff. You press the underneath your chin against his chest, looking up at him with big, round eyes. “You know I’d make you mixtapes.”

“No one calls them mixtapes anymore, old man.”

“I do. And I will make you mixtapes when you’re gone.”

“Make them for me now.”

Yoongi’s kiss is soft. Your eyes flutter close as you let him press firmer into your mouth. He breaks away before you can run your tongue on his bottom lip like you love. “Okay. I’ll make some for you. Now let’s pick some wine before anyone comes looking for us.”

“Please, no one has looked for us in three nights.” Something passes his face. You can’t pick up on it, but he drops his hands from around you and gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

He hesitates. “Not at all, kid. Come on,” he pokes you. “Get your wine.”

So you do. You grab a fruity red with chocolate notes that you had been eyeing and the Merlot. He takes one bottle from you and takes your hand with the other. You swing your hands back and forth, happy to be there. You can’t help but pout when you have to separate at the door, but you get it.

“Soon,” he murmurs, kissing you on the temple and smacking you lightly on your ass as you squeeze through the door and back to the world of the roaring party.

Yoongi excuses himself to take over for Hoseok to control the music. You collapse onto the couch with Jungkook and Taehyung, joining in the drinking games as you uncork the wine

Wendy and Jungkook pass you in the hall. Her eyes are cutting as Jungkook stops you, begging you to share the wine. You roll your eyes, accompanying him to the kitchen which turns into an hour-long mission for cups. Everyone stops to ask him about streaming and ask you about job openings. Your job is cool, but you’re thirsty and there’s sweet wine waiting patiently to meet your mouth.

Cups in hand, the pair of you finally peel away into the living room where a childish game of truth and dare is going on. You’re wedged in a corner with Jungkook, trapped by the Maxwell twins who are grilling you about gaming.

You finish your wine, pouting. Yoongi catches your eye as he walks toward the kitchen, making a cup motion with his hand. You nod, biting your lip shyly as you turn to Jungkook, who watches the whole thing. He raises his brows but says nothing, gesturing toward where Taehyung is sitting on the couch by the truth or dare game which has resulted in a lot of weird making out.

As you walk by the circle of partiers with Jungkook, you hear someone call your name. You laugh, turning from Jungkook to see Wendy sitting next to Seokjin. She tilts her beer bottle toward you with a smile and you think nothing of it, asking “What’s up?”

Yoongi is coming out of the kitchen with two glasses of wine in his hand, making his way toward you as Wendy’s grin increases. Her eyes are hazy, and her cheeks are flushed from drinking.

“Your turn – truth or dare?”

“Uhhh dare, I guess?”

Why not? You’re feeling bold, the alcohol fueling you to lean against the couch behind Ren, smiling. Wendy smiles back, tilting her head as her friend snickers beside her. You’re warm, buzzing, and you don’t see it coming.

“I dare you to tell your brother you’re fucking his best friend.”

The smile drops from your face. Jungkook audibly gasps next to you and the people sitting around the table swivel to face you. Wendy leans back, one leg crossing over the other as she watches you, hands crossed over her chest.

Yoongi has frozen where he stands, just hearing the edge of the conversation.

“What?” you manage to ask. You shake your head, trying to shake off the feeling of being drunk. Everything is too loud and you can’t help but repeat the question, “What?”

“I dare you to tell Jin you’re sleeping with Yoongi.”

“Wendy.” You hear Yoongi’s deep warning from somewhere, but your eyes are only on your brother who looks at Wendy with a frown. She doesn’t dare look away from you, a challenge in her green eyes. You think of the nasty look she shot you earlier and your stomach drops.

You lick your lips, mouth suddenly dry. You search for the words as a flash of heat crawls up your neck, hands shaking as Seokjin turns in his seat, looking at you and rolling his eyes. “As if, Wen.” Seokjin settles his gaze on you. Sees you wide-eyed and sweating. Sees the rise and fall of your chest as you begin to pant. “Wait, you’re joking, right?”

Yoongi cuts through the people who are still partying, making his way to you. Jungkook is at your back, hand pulling at your waist to back you up from the couch. Taehyung gets up from the couch, eyes dark as he takes residence beside Jungkook, two dark knights flanking you.

“Here comes the hero,” Wendy’s friend murmurs next to her, a satisfied smirk on her face. Her eyes are on Yoongi, who Jungkook makes room for. “Lie to Wendy again how she was never a threat to your relationship.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ren snaps, leaning forward. She’s red in the face but you barely hear her as she says, “You are such an instigator – you are twenty-seven, grow up!”

“Let’s talk,” Yoongi says to Seokjin, who is staring at Yoongi, the tips of his ears turning red as he opens and closes his mouth. Seokjin’s hands turn to fists as his dark eyes flicker from you to Yoongi. You’re still fumbling, overwhelmed with terror and embarrassment. “Away from everyone.”

“Are you fucking my sister?”

The question makes you flinch. You’re shifting back and forth between feet, pushing at Yoongi to step away. People are starting to turn around and look at you. Eyes. So many eyes. It’s hot in the room and you feel like your clothes are sticking to your chest, like you can’t get enough room. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to loosen it.

 “Jin, stop-” you start to ask, unable to finish the question before he’s cutting you off. Your voice is too small, too frail.

You suddenly feel like the little girl you used to be. Too shy to talk to your brother’s friends, ducking out of rooms when they were around. Your fight or flight kicks in. It’s hard to breathe, so you focus on Taehyung’s grip on you. You focus on his touch as much as you can, trying to level your breathing.

“Are you fucking my sister?” He asks again, standing. His voice is louder. The attention of the party is starting to turn on you in full. The people around the table are staring nudging one another with their elbows.

The focus of the room is shifting to you as Yoongi murmurs for Seokjin to come with him outside to talk. Seokjin isn’t moving, even when Jungkook walks around the couch to pull at Seokjin’s elbow, trying to gently guide him away from the table. Seokjin rips his arm away from the younger, face like a storm. You squeeze your eyes shut, turning into Taehyung who has his arms around you now.

“Answer the question!”

“Please stop,” you ask, voice cracking, but it’s muffled by Taehyung’s chest.

“You fucking asshole,” Seokjin swears. “This is a new low, even for you.”

“Outside,” Yoongi growls. “You’re embarrassing her.”

“I don’t care!”

“Well I do.”  Yoongi looks over his shoulder, addressing Taehyung, “Go get some air.”

Taehyung lets go of you, pulling you away from the scene but you’re rooted in place. “Jin, I-”

“The two of you, man,” Seokjin scoffs, shaking Jungkook’s hand off him again as he storms toward the front of the house. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Seokjin is storming through people, people dodging out of his way. Ren is leaning over the coffee table, jabbing a finger toward Wendy who looks pale in the face as her friends push Ren’s accusatory finger away. Lydia’s hand is on Ren’s elbow, pulling her back.

Another tug on your arm. You turn to see Yoongi, dark eyes searching, brows creased as he cups your face briefly. You turn away from him, but his grip is firm, angling you back to him.

“Just give me some time, okay?”

You wordlessly nod. Yoongi sighs and kisses you on the temple, heading to where your brother has disappeared. Yoongi looks at Wendy and asks, “Why?”

Yoongi doesn’t give her time to answer. He’s charging after Seokjin. Namjoon is telling people to mind their own business. Hoseok has turned the music up so loud that it’s rattling your insides. Familiar hands guide you out of the back door. Down the porch.

Your heart is pounding. The words are ringing in your ears over and over again. The two of you, man. Un-fucking-believable.

Wood creaks underneath your shoes. Gentle arms around your waist – you can smell Jimin’s cologne – orange blossoms and gentle citrus. Taehyung’s fingers are laced with yours, squeezing. You feel something hot on your neck, lifting the hand not in Taehyung’s to touch the heated skin, realizing its tears.

You don’t know when you started crying. The boys take it in stride. They don’t say anything, they led you bury your face into Jimin’s neck. You ruin his shirt, you’re sure. It doesn’t matter. You let everything out, praying that no one is watching you from the porch. It’s ugly and it’s messy, the sobs choking.

“I didn’t-” you gasp over tears, trying to get the words out, “I didn’t mean-”

The sentence doesn’t come to completion. Taehyung squeezes your hand. Jimin has a hand brushing your head, the other secure around your waist. You can’t see Ren, but you hear her voice, high-pitched and cursing somewhere outside.

You want to thank her – to let her know you appreciate the backup – but the shame and the guilt are so powerful that instead, all you can do is cry.

And you hate yourself a little more for it.

Eventually, you sit on the dock. Ren and Jungkook listen as you fill them in on everything, sniffling. Taehyung still has your hand fiercely held in his, refusing to let you go.

It makes you think of when Yoongi asked to hold your hand so it was easier to talk. It makes you sniffle and lean your head on Jimin’s shoulder.

Your friends don’t judge you. No one tells you that you’re wrong, even though you feel like the worst person in the world. You’re quick to blame yourself and none of them are having it, waving off any self-accusation that you can manage.

“I shouldn’t have indulged,” you whisper.

“Having feelings for someone isn’t indulging,” Ren snaps. She’s still hot from her confrontation with Wendy. “Having feelings is a human thing. Hiding it to safeguard your feelings is a normal reaction, and Jin is way out of line for the way he handled that. We are pushing thirty, for fucks sake!”

“I’m a fucking liar.”

“Who isn’t?” Ren demands. “I don’t give a shit that you lied about it. You intended to tell Jin, right?” You nod. “That’s all that matters. It wasn’t to hurt him – it would have been super weird to ruin the trip. Like you know – is sort of happening right now.”

The sound of skin slapping skin and Ren cursing at Jungkook sounds. Jungkook clears his throat and murmurs, “You didn’t ruin the trip – Ren phrased that poorly. But we get why you did it, and Jin has to understand. Honestly? If Jin didn’t know you and Yoongi have been giving each other moon eyes for years, he’s an idiot.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you say nothing.

No one goes back to the party. Hoseok and Namjoon hold down the fort. Hosoek comes out with water and briefly ruffles your hair, promising that Seokjin will come around. You can’t find it in you to give him a smile, but you thank him nonetheless.

Yoongi does not come to find you.

Minutes blend together while the five of you talk about anything and everything that doesn’t involve the confrontation. Ren has dialed it down, though she has asked multiple times if you want her to fight Wendy.

Truly, you don’t.

Yoongi had mentioned the night before how Wendy could be. And if you put yourself in her shoes? You understood. Because from Wendy’s point of view, it was like the worst thing was coming true. Something she had always feared in her own relationship with Yoongi ended up becoming real.

You can’t blame her for wondering if you were on the sidelines all along. You can’t blame her for thinking Yoongi lied every time he told you that you weren’t a threat. It’s a wound that she openly nursed in their relationship – not that you knew about it – and now it’s reopened. Fresh.

So she’s lashed out where it could hurt Yoongi, even if it meant hurting you and Seokjin in the process. Because she’s embarrassed, hurt, and feels lied to.

It isn’t a great place for her to be in, either.

As though your sympathies have manifested her, a feminine voice clears their throat. Ren is already getting to her feet, growling at Wendy who stands awkwardly where the splintered planks begin. She has a bottle of water in her hand, half gone and she fiddles with the hem of her shirt.

“Ca? Alone, please?”

“No?” Jimin laughs mirthlessly. “What could you possibly have to say?”

“I just want to talk.”

You touch Jimin as you meet Wendy’s eyes. The eyeliner is patchy and her mascara is smudged a bit. The tip of her nose is red. You realize that she’s been crying.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “Can you give us a few, guys?” None of your friends budge. You roll your eyes and pinch Taehyung. He groans and leads the charge, peeling himself from the dock, pulling Jungkook and Jimin by their shirts. “I’m fine.”

“I’d like to stay,” Ren asserts. You level a glare at her. She huffs and gets up, dusting herself off. “Fine, I’ll stay over there where I can see you but can’t hear. Is that suitable?”

You nod. Your friends aren’t excited to leave you alone with Wendy, who won’t look any of them in the eye. Despite your heart racing and the mounting urge to scream at her, you take a breath and gesture to the empty space next to you.

Ren and the others don’t go far, lingering a few yards away from the dock, huddled together and pretending not to cast glances at you. Wendy looks over her shoulder at them as she sits down on the dock, leaving a considerable amount of space between you.

“They’re good friends,” Wendy observes.

“They are. I don’t think you’re here to talk about them.”

“No. But I wonder if I surrounded myself with friends like them if I would be nicer.”

“Perhaps a little, but you’re an adult. It’s free to be nice and exercise good habits that promote that.”

Wendy sucks in a breath at the harsh comment but you don’t take it back. She blows out the air, tilting her head up to look at the sky. “Yeah, I deserve that.” You shrug. She continues, “I feel ridiculous saying sorry – not because you don’t deserve it, but because it’s only been like an hour and I feel terrible about it.”

“It was an unkind thing to do.”

“You’re right. It was childish and unfair to you, Yoongi and Jin.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I felt small and insecure. Maybe you don’t know, but Yoongi was always so different about you. I let that shit eat at me for a very long time instead of addressing it properly. You guys always seemed so much more in sync, and I was always envious of how easy it was for you to understand him when I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry that you struggled with that.”

She waves a hand. “I’ll have to get over it. When I realized you guys vanished together last night and when he didn’t answer my text asking if you were a thing-”

You whip your head to her. “He knew you knew?”

Wendy blinks in surprise. She opens and closes her mouth. “I sent a pretty drunk text accusing him of it. And then when I saw you two come out from the wine cellar tonight, I knew.”

You pick at the cracked pieces of wood that make up the dock. Peeling tiny splinters and slivers, you think about that. Yoongi had known that Wendy was suspicious – had commented on her being petty and lashing out and yet, he didn’t tell you.

It’s probably nothing to be upset over, and yet you are. Because this could have been prevented, you could have known there was a target on your back.

Swallowing past the building frustration, you say, “So what changed your mind?”

“I felt pretty gross about it immediately after. Seeing your anxiety attack made me feel terrible because I’ve been there.”

“It felt pretty terrible.”

She nods. “I’m sure it did. I can’t take it back, but I wanted you to know that I’m aware I shouldn’t have done that. It does nothing at the moment, but if it’s worth anything, I’m going to attempt to learn from this.”

“Do more than attempt and I’ll be pleased.”

She offers you a soft smile. Nodding when the silence gets awkward, she pushes herself up from the dock. She hesitates and adds, “You and Yoongi? You make sense. You always have. Jin might be upset for a while, but I think he’ll see that. I’d like to apologize to them both when I have a chance.”

“I think that would be nice. And Wen?” she turns and looks at you. “Thanks.”

Wendy smiles and nods, heading back toward the house. She skirts your friends, giving them a wide berth as they come back, piling themselves on the dock.

“No hair pulling?” Taehyung asks with a pout. You shake your head with a breathy laugh. “Huh. Fights are so much less fun as an adult.”

-

Yoongi and Seokjin are nowhere to be found when you return to the party. It’s died down considerably. Namjoon meets you halfway through the living room, letting you know that the pair of them left the house to go somewhere to talk.

Anxiety eats away at you as the last of the partygoers leave. You check your phone repeatedly but there’s nothing from either of them.

You cannot imagine the conversation they’re having. And though you had begun to mentally prepare yourself for Seokjin’s reactions, you cry when you lay down in your bed, unable to stop worrying that you’ve ruined their friendship to a point of no return.

Sleep is impossible. So you stare at the ceiling, spiraling into a series of memories. You can’t help but sift through memories with your brother as you sniffle, tears occasionally escaping your eyes.

Seokjin is a good brother. He is the best brother. He has always been there for you in ways that you probably haven’t really thanked him for.

As the younger sibling, it occurs to you that Seokjin was so much more of a leader in your life than you realize. It makes you cry a little more, rolling over as the guilt makes your stomach flip.

Though your parents weren’t around much – your mother splitting time between Italy as a fancy and flighty artist, your father working on overseeing multiple construction projects for condominiums in Miami, Malibu, Busan, Hong Kong, and Dubai – and Seokjin had always been there.

There had been the nannies and housekeepers. They were fine and they were responsible. But your childhood is painted with images of Seokjin coming to get you for dinner. Of him faxing your parents’ permission slips for your field trips. Of him hanging out in lobbies of doctor’s offices while you got physicals to play soccer.

And now you’re asking him to share Yoongi.

But shouldn’t you be able to be happy? Your annoyance begins to build. Why aren’t you allowed to have what you want? Why aren’t you allowed to like Yoongi? It isn’t that big of a deal. The world goes on, and it’ll either work or it won’t.

Just as the light begins to turn grey outside, you hear footsteps in the hall. You sit up straight in bed, clutching the blankets in your hands as the door opens. You hold your breath, leaning forward as your brother slips into the room.

He’s still in the clothes from the party.

Heavy silence hangs in the air. Seokjin leans against the door, staring at you. You’ve never felt this before, this gap between you. It’s like even if you held your hand out to him, you cannot breach the wall. He’s so far away, though he’s looking at you with a blank expression.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask. “You’re not going to accept an apology, but I am sorry.”

Seokjin shrugs. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“We were going to tell you.”

“Don’t really care.”

That sparks a fire in you. “Is it really the end of the world for you?” You demand. “That I want to date your friend? He’s my friend too.”

“He is my friend first. That was always the deal, always the bargain. I share everything with you and you had to go and fuck Yoongi? Honestly?”

“It wasn’t just that-”

“Yoongi doesn’t date. You know that better than anyone, and when he does date, he fucking sucks at it. You don’t deserve that shit. How many times did you catch him fucking around in college and you think – you think that is love?”

“I never said anything about love,” you snap. “But I want to give him a chance-”

“Two weeks ago he was talking about how dating wasn’t for him. Had an entire conversation about it. Then we get here and suddenly he throws me in the fucking trash for you.”

“That isn’t what he did, and you’re an asshole for saying that.”

“He is willing to give up my friendship with him for a relationship with you. It feels the same.”

“Yoongi loves you. You’re his best friend, this… this changes nothing, Jin. We’re not sharing him, he’s not some child to have split custody over-”

“I gave up my life for you!” Seokjin screams, making you feel small. “Took you to practice, helped you with homework, let you hang out with me and my friends. Always took you places so you didn’t have to be alone, because mom and dad didn’t care if you were alone.”

Your tears spill over. You can’t stop them as you cover your face in your hands. Because his words are honest and laced with a pain you didn’t know existed. “And now everyone is mad at me,” Seokjin’s voice cracks. “Because I’m upset that I have to share another person, another friendship. Because everyone has always given you what you’ve wanted, and I’m not allowed to be upset because my friend would rather date my sister than be friends with me.”

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to understand. It feels like I’m having to give you another part of my life. It’s not – it’s not even that you lied to me. You’re my sister, you’re supposed to lie. But Yoongi? He’s not supposed to lie to me. He is the single person in my life I have been able to count on outside of my single sibling, and he chose you. What don’t you get?”

Fresh tears burn. You feel the sob working its way up, and Seokjin isn’t there to comfort you. He’s worlds away, across the room looking at you with exquisite pain. Because he’s right. Seokjin’s entire life has revolved around you, and the one friend that Seokjin has considered only his now wants to be with you.

“I love you,” Seokjin murmurs. “You’re my sister. I’d do anything for you - I do anything for you. I love Yoongi, he’s my best friend. But you could have just… just talked to me. Instead you chose each other inside of ever thinking about me. Both of you. No one chose me.”

“Okay. I will stay away.”

Seokjin waves his hand, opening the door to leave. “Do whatever you want. It’s already fucking ruined.”

“Jin…”

“I’ll get over it one day, but I’m mad. Let me be mad.” He hits the wall lightly, bouncing his palm on it. “I love you, okay? Have a safe flight in the morning.”

“I love you too.”

Your flight out isn’t far off. You peel the clothes off and step into the shower. Wash the misery down the drain. Scrub the tear marks off your cheeks. Exhaustion weighs heavy on you, dragging every step to change and re-pack the rest of your bag.

A gentle knock on the door draws your attention as you finish zipping the bag closed. You turn as Yoongi lets himself in and you can’t help it – you take in a deep breath, feeling jittery as you do a quick assessment.

He’s in sweats and a long-sleeve shirt. His blonde hair is hidden under a hat pulled so low you almost can’t see his face. But you see the red-lined eyes, the dark circles and the paleness of exhaustion there.

“Can I take you to the airport?” he asks, voice gentle.

It sounds final. Heavy. So you nod wordlessly, pulling your bag from the bed. When you approach him, Yoongi holds his hand out. You give him your bag, letting him do this final thing for you.

The house is undisturbed. Downstairs, you blink in surprise to find everyone except your brother. You say your goodbyes and find them more muted than usual. Namjoon ruffles your hair, an attempt at cheering up but it feels hollow.

Maybe it’s just because you’re hollow. Because you know where this going.

It doesn’t make the silence better for the first fifteen minutes. Pearl light falls across Yoongi’s profile, half of him shadowed and half of him glowing. He looks so beautiful that you angle yourself toward the door, averting your eyes.

Yoongi drives leaned back, a single hand on the wheel. Casual confidence, even though his mouth is tight.

After twenty minutes, he offers his hand over the center console. Palm up. Welcoming. Missing you already.

You slid your hand in his, gentle palms against rough skin. He holds your hand tight and nods. “You don’t want to date.”

“Yeah,” your voice cracks. “It’s… yeah.”

He nods, mouth forming a folded line. His eyes are focused on the road, unblinking. You almost take your hand out of his, mistaking his silence and expression for anger. But his grip is tight.

“Can I convince you otherwise?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is low and tight, vocal cords strained as the tears threaten you again. “Will he come around?”

Yoongi let’s out a sound somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. “I have no fucking idea, baby.” He glances at you side long, dark eyes tracing your face. “I want to think so. He’s deeply upset, and he has every right to be. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and instead of explaining, I alienated him. It didn’t help that all our friends picked a side. He feels like no one is listening to his hurt.”

“It wasn’t just you.”

Yoongi sighs. His thumb brushes back and forth across your hand. “I can’t sit here and promise you he’ll be okay with it. I have no idea where my friendship with him goes after this. But if you want this, I’m here. If you don’t, I understand.”

“Why do I have to make all the decisions?” you ask in a whisper.

He smiles. “Life is tough, kid. Maybe think about it for a few days. I’m a phone call away.”

The airport stretches ahead of you. Your feet are like lead when you get out of the car. You don’t want to leave. Your heart is screaming to say something- anything.

Instead, you let him pull you into his chest. Notes of sandalwood. Soft lips against your forehead. The brush of his nose against yours as he gifts you a soft, lingering kiss.

Yoongi’s hands drop to his sides as you step back. He gives you a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s no mirth. You nod and take your bag from him. It weighs you down further.

“Tell someone when you land safely, if not me, okay?”

You nod. “Are we… are we allowed to talk?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Okay.”

He smiles, nodding toward the automatic doors of the airport. “Safe flight, kid.”

-

Stars are in the sky, glittering high above you as you sit on the chaise section of the couch. You’re wrapped in blankets, a steaming cup of tea balanced on the cushion next to you as you type and erase. Type and erase.

This has been a game for days now. You don’t know what to say. Asking ‘how are you’ seems like opening the door to false niceties or painful truths. ‘How is your day’ feels just as pointless. So you type and erase, wondering if Yoongi is watching the three bubbles appear and reappear on his screen, or if he’s given up on the radio silence.

You stare at the conversation.

Me: Landed safe.

Min Yoongi: I’m glad.

You already miss the nickname and the cat emoji. You changed it before texting him – somehow thinking about you pressed toe-to-toe with Yoongi in that closet while he carried you to safety on a curated playlist is too sharp.

Me: I’m sorry for everything.

Min Yoongi: Don’t be.

Me: Read 1:43 pm

That was a week ago. You’ve tried to figure out what to say, but you’re not sure if you should say anything at all. You told him that you didn’t want to do this. You have no idea if he and Seokjin are speaking – Seokjin certainly isn’t speaking to you – and you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be friends or not.

Jungkook comes out of his room, commanding your attention. He’s got wireless gaming headphones around his neck, RBG lights turning his face red then blue. His hair hangs in his eyes and he frowns when he sees you, coming over to sit next to you. You snatch the cup of tea before he can spill it.

“How’s the stream?” you ask. You know it’s going well – you’ve been watching on your phone in the dark between trying to come up with something to say to Yoongi at 11:15 pm on a Friday night.

“Good. People are really excited about the release of the new agent and map. What other plans do you have for that?”

You blow out air, hair dancing in front of your face. Leaning your head on the back of the couch, you rub at your temples. Your company has a new character and map coming out in the new season and you’ve been working on the marketing for months.

And now with the last few strings needing to be tied, you feel completely uninspired.

Your season playbook sits on the coffee table. It’s filled with coffee stains and wrinkled pages from water damage. You’re not nice to your notebooks, but you do get the best use out of them. The marketing plan had been finished weeks ago, all mapped out perfectly.

There were now a few loose ends with a streamer backing out of featuring it due to some family concerns. You need to fill the gap for showcasing the new character, and Jungkook is already on the docket for it.

You’ve got a month to fix the gap. Something that is normally not a problem, except you’ve come home with your head hung low and your heart somewhere you cannot reach.

“Just looking for a replacement for Geko. He wasn’t a professional streamer but he has a huge audience for his music and he’s super into gaming.”

Jungkook chews on his lip. His brows pinch in the middle for a second and he suddenly pats you on the back incredibly hard. “Let the chips fall where they may.”

“I- what?” Jungkook is grinning as he rushes back to his room, caffeine forgotten. “Did you just quote She’s the Man?” You yell after him but he doesn’t respond.

You spend the rest of your night switching between Jungkook’s Twitch stream and your hopelessly empty text messages.

-

Gentle hands pry you from sleep. You grumble, looking at Jungkook as he tries to peel the blankets away. Your new blackout curtains shade your room nicely, keeping it cool and dark. Your new haven where you’ve started to slink off to when you can’t stop wondering if you’ve done the right thing.

Another week has passed and you’ve failed to figure out something to say to Yoongi. You’re weary at the edges, eyes swollen and itchy from staying up so late, which is unusual for you. 

Your phone is next to you, bringing back memories of why you stayed up so late – you were struggling with things to say, so you began building a playlist. A way to transcend language and speak your feelings without having to construct the words and the sentences.

“Come on, it’s noon.”

“Leave me,” you murmur. “I’m tired.”

Jungkook sighs. “Can you just come to have lunch with me and some water? Please?”

You let him guide you from your room. The house is cleaner than you remember it being. When you ask Jungkook, he admits he’s been picking up your slack. You pick at the crust of your pizza, avoiding his eyes because you know you haven’t been the best roommate.

Jungkook doesn’t push you for more responsibility. Doesn’t ask you not to leave dishes in the sink. He just lets you be, making sure that you’re fed and bringing you water when he can remember. It’s an unfamiliar dynamic, but he does an admirable job.

And he doesn’t try to encourage you to snap out of it. He has no tough love to give. No harsh words. There is only understanding, and occasionally asking if you’ve spoken to Seokjin. He never asks about Yoongi – either because he doesn’t have the heart to see you shake your head or because he’s afraid to bring him up.

The answer is always the same: not really. Seokjin will answer if you really press him, but otherwise, there are no more weekly phone calls. There are a couple of texts to check in to see if the other is alive, but for the last two weeks, you’re sailing uncharted seas with your brother, unsure how to steer the boat.

Your food is heavier in your stomach than you want it to be. Jungkook tries to sneak in another task by asking if you want to do groceries, but you put it off. He’s clever, though. Ren Facetimes at that exact moment and Jungkook smirks over his phone at you when he answers.

Carefully, you slide off the stool when Jungkook casually says, “Yeah, we were just finishing lunch. Here, keep her busy while I do dishes.”

You stare at him with a curled lip. He’s all grins as Jungkook hands you the phone against your will. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Ren – you talk to her daily. But it’s another way to keep you from your room.

Jungkook – 2 You – 0

“Hi,” you greet quietly, gliding to the couch. “Your boyfriend fed me burnt pizza.”

“Listen,” Ren huffs. “If you want gourmet, you’re going to have to do it yourself. Until then, it’s burnt crust for you baby.”

You smile.

Catching up is easier than you thought it was going to be. By the time Jungkook is sitting next to you, leaning so that you’re both in the shot, you don’t feel like giving the phone up. A breath of ease washes over you as Jungkook grabs the phone, turning off facetime to add Jimin and Taehyung to the call.

No one brings up Yoongi, but it doesn’t feel like their tiptoeing. By the end of the call, you don’t want to sleep so much anymore, agreeing to go to the grocery store with Jungkook. As you slid your shoes on, you touch his elbow. “Hey.” He looks up at you, doe-eyes wide. “Thanks.”

He grins. “What are roomies for?”

-

The next week has good and bad days. There are some days isn’t doesn’t feel like anything is wrong. You have a lead on a fill-in for an influencer to stream the new agent and map play at work, and things are going smoothly. You’re not hiding in your room anymore, and Seokjin is answering a little more.

He even texted to ask if he could get access to the agent earlier than release. You put in a good word – which is really just heading to the development team and having them send the file over to him – and he thanks you.

It feels more normal than it has.

But today is a bad day. Your fill for Geko has another conflict and once again you’re left with a gaping hole in the plan for popular media influencers to showcase game play. On top of that, the strap on your favorite heel is broken at work.

Inconveniences aside, you know what’s really ruining your day.

You don’t dare to grab your phone and look at the last text you sent Yoongi, the one that went through green instead of blue. Somewhere you know you’re the perfect example of first-world problems: look at the girl freaking out because his texts are green now. Did he block her? Did he just not have service?

You don’t think it’s the latter. A few hours after the unanswered green text, you had followed up.

Me: Saved by Khalid

Me: Green, huh? You’re telling me you’re an Android user now?

Nothing. No response.

Your stomach flips at the thought of checking your phone again to see nothing there.

At the end of the day, you’ve checked your phone several times and there’s nothing. You want to vomit as you grab your things and head home. Your laptop and playbook are tucked in your bag, keeping your head down as you dodge through the rain coming down in the parking lot.

You curse when you get in your car, soaked and feeling sticky. You shiver when the AC comes on, jamming your finger to turn it off so quickly your finger bends awkwardly. You curse loudly and in one, quick breath of air – you scream on top of your lungs in the car. Eyes close, fists clenched, a single cathartic yell into the void.

For a second after, you just sit there panting. Slowing your breathing, you open your eyes and turn on the car, already starting to feel a little better after a good yell.

Rainy cityscape passes you by. Staring up at the shining buildings while you’re stopped at the light, a sudden memory flashes through you. What’s your favorite thing about your new city?

You remember your answer. There’s no pressure to be anyone.

Instead of going right home, you drive through the wet streets. The playlist you started curating is on. If you could give it to Yoongi, you think about what you might say. You’ve given each other so many mixtapes and playlists over the years that you think may you would just smile and he would get it.

Because it’s Yoongi. You don’t have to tell him the shape of your heart. He listens, and he knows.

Teary-eyed and frustrated, you wind up at your apartment. Your hair is damp as you shuffle the keys in your hand, letting yourself in.

“Jungkook, can you bring me a towel? I’m soaked and trailing water.”

You wait for your roommates response, but it’s not Jungkook who answers. “Where does he keep the towels?”

Your head snaps up. Seokjin leans on the wall, smirking with an eyebrow arched. “Jin?”

“Hiya.”

“What…?”

“Missed my sister. And honestly?” He shrugs. “Been thinking on some things and felt like I needed to have a conversation with her.”

You don’t think. You just run to him, his arms open as he catches you. You’re soaking his shirt, with both the rain-drenched close and the tears that you were holding back in the car. Seokjin is careful, brushing your hair as he tells you to hush, but he’s there and he’s your brother.

Your brother who loves you, who has come back around for you.

With a towel out of Jungkook’s room, Seokjin leads you to the kitchen where you sit on a stool. He leans on the counter, linking his hands and leveling a serious gaze with you. “I’m going to keep this quick, alright?” You frown, but nod. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and while I’m still pretty pissed the two of you lied to me, I think it would make me a fool and a liar to admit I didn’t see it the entire time.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Yoongi have always vibed. He’s always cared about you in his own ways and you have good chemistry. There were times in college I thought he’d ask me to date you, but then he never did.” Seokjin shrugs. “I thought I was making it up.”

You let out air. “Wow.”

“Look – we all fucked up. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, and I’ve been trying to figure out for three weeks how to put into words how sorry I am for how I treated you.”

“You’re sorry? Jin I –”

He holds up a hand and shakes his head. “No. I gave you an anxiety attack, embarrassed you because of my rage, and I said things that I didn’t mean.” Seokjin lowers his face so that he’s eye-level with you. “Being your brother is one of the best parts of my life. And I’m sorry that I made it sound like I resented sharing my life with you – my friends, my time.”

You’re crying now. You wipe your face with your shoulder, curling in on yourself as he pushes onward. “I was hurt and I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling. I think I was insecure that Yoongi would trade me for you. I don’t know, you guys are a lot more alike. But I realized that my friendship with Yoongi and whatever he feels for you isn’t mutually exclusive.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” you sniffle. “He doesn’t want this – which is totally okay. I don’t blame him.”

“Well, that’s kind of weird.” You raise your brows at his playful tone. “Pretty expensive way for him to tell you he doesn’t like you if that’s true. I mean, who flies here to-”

“What?”

Seokjin pushes himself off the counter, coming around it and hugging you fiercely. You squirm in his arms, confused and trying to pry the truth from him. Seokjin kisses your head and heads toward the door. “I’m going to have dinner with Jungkook.”

“I’m so confused.”

“Left the expensive present in your room,” he adds, opening the door. “And hey? Seriously. I’m sorry and… I’m happy. I’m going to be happy. I want that for you too.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything else before shutting the door.

Turning slowly, you look at the closed door of your bedroom. Sliding from the stool, you carefully cross over to it, one foot in front of the other. Your breaths are shaky when you reach the handle and turn it, only opening it enough that you can peek inside as if that will somehow lessen the blow if Seokjin is joking.

Your breath catches when you see Yoongi standing on the opposite side of the room. His arms are crossed over his chest, hands lost in the sleeves of his shirt. He’s in ripped jeans and a hat pulled low, staring up at the pictures on your wall.

Silver tears shine in your eyes when you step in the room, but he’s so focused on the photos that he doesn’t turn to you until you tentatively call, “Yoongi?”

He whips he’s head around. His dark eyes light up and he smiles, though it seems a bit wobbly and unsure. You don’t move from the doorway, watching him with your mouth slightly agape. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he starts. “I had a pretty long speech planned for you, but I think it’s sort of stupid now that I’m thinking about it. It included some things like I’m stupid for not talking you into dating me in the car on the way to the airport. I’m horrible for not telling you Wendy was onto what was going on and giving you a heads up. I’m an idiot for not just picking up the fucking phone and calling you-”

You don’t let him finish. You bolt across the room, because standing in front of you is… well it’s Yoongi.

Your arms slip around his middle and you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your face so hard to his chest that you think you might shatter. He squeezes you back with equal strength, two equal forces pushing into one another. His lips are on your forehead, soft as they plant kisses along the crown of your hair.

“You’re not stupid,” you whisper, eyes still shut. You smell sandalwood and his chest rumbles with his laughter. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, Jin brought me. Jungkook’s idea, actually.”

“Really?” You look up at him. You’re unwilling to part, your head still pressed against his chest at an awkward angle. Yoongi looks down at you, cat eyes mystified, humming in confirmation. “That’s nice of him.”

“I hear you’ve been moping.”

“I thought you blocked me.”

“What? Why?”

“My texts when green this morning…”

He smirks. “Finally texted me, huh? I was on the plane.”

Your mouth makes an ‘o’ as he leads you toward your bed. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap. You cling to him, arms going around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. His arms circle your waist, holding you tight.

“What was the message?”

“Saved by Khalid.”

He hums and laughs. “Made me a mixtape?” You nod, closing your eyes and just enjoying the feel of him. “Sweet girl,” he hums. “I made you one too?”

You pull away to look down at him. Your hands rest on either side of his shoulder. He’s glowing, a gummy smile on his face as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth, as though he can’t decide where he wants to look longer. “Really?”

“Yeah. Didn’t know what to say. Thought maybe…”

“The music could do it for you?” He nods. “Me too.”

“I missed you,” he admits. “Often. Painfully. Shamefully. Should’ve turned the car around and made Jin talk, all three of us like adults. I was so afraid of pushing too hard and ruining it though.”

“Me too,” you admit. Your hands thread the long hair at the nape of his neck. “What now?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I’ve always been here to give you what you want, whatever you need.” He squeezes your hips. “I’ve always been yours – for years, even though I didn’t know it. So if you’ll have me officially…”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You whisper, heart pounding in your ears.

He grins up at you. “Something like that.”

“Kiss me,” you demand.

“Absolutely.”

Yoongi tastes familiar. He’s warm and you light up inside as his soft mouth presses against yours, sure and confident. His lips are everything as they pry your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours.

Your fingers dig into the hair at the back of his neck, your legs squeezing his waist as you kiss him with everything you have.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth the way he knows you like and you moan without having to be quiet for once. He pulls away, spit slick on berry lips, eyes blinking in a haze. “You are remarkable,” he murmurs, hands rubbing up and down your side. You chase his mouth with yours but he escapes, laughing when you whine. “I will not go another two years without you. I won’t go another fucking second.”

“Then stop stopping kissing me!”

“That makes no sense.”

“You make no sense, Min Yoongi.”

His smile is beatific. “On that, we can agree.”

Yoongi kisses you again. He lets the pair of you fall backwards, his hands slipping under your blouse, palms spreading on your back. You giggle, hips rolling lightly, like the way he hisses when you grind down into him. 

His hat knocks off of his head, your fingers pulling at his hair. When you open your eyes and break the kiss for air, you make a surprised noise and sit up, straddling his waist. Yoongi looks at you with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his hands settled on your hips under your shirt.

“Your hair is black!”

He gives you his sideways smirk. “Like it?”

“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurt.

He laughs loudly, fingers gripping your hips. He rolls his hips up, catching you with his half-erection and making you moan deep in your throat.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice low. “Wanna run your fingers through it while I eat you out?”

“Fuck,” you blurt, loud.

Your world spins as he rolls you over. Yoongi’s mouth is sucking marks onto your neck – hard His tongue is quick to follow, brushing over and soothing the ache as he maps out his want on your neck, your collar bones. His hands brush over your clothed breasts, squeezing.

“Don’t have to be quiet now,” Yoongi pants, kissing you again. You pull at the hem of his shirt. You want it off. “Been dying to eat this pussy for weeks. Wanna hear you this time.”

“Please,” the shirt is stuck under his arms, Yoongi is too distracted to let you take it off.

You growl at him. “Take this fucking shirt off.”

His chuckle is like gravel. He leans up, taking his shirt off and tossing it. You don’t wait for him to come back down to you, greedy hands pulling at his belt loops, mouth meeting his stomach, his chest. You nip his flesh, looking up at him through hooded eyes. His head is tipped back, eyes fluttering as you litter his soft skin with bruises.

Yoongi lets you have fun. You taste the sweetness of him, flicking a tongue over a nipple when he pulls you back by the hair, crashing your mouths together. Yoongi pins you down again, nearly shredding your shirt as he tears through the buttons, tossing it.

The room is stifling as you press against one another, driven by the space weeks apart created. You feel high, whining into him as he pulls your pants down, hands going right for the prize. Yoongi plays with your wet folds, fingers deft and attentive. It sparks pleasure deep in your stomach, twisting. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. He’s nibbling your ear, your pebbled nipples pressing against his chest, creating friction. You’re vibrating all over, every touch magnified by the sounds he lets out. “Feels good.”

His fingers pull your panties to the side, brushing up and down your slit softly. “Mmm, wet just the way I like it.”

Yoongi’s hand vanishes and he gets up. You pout. He brings slick-soaked fingers to his lips, deliberately making eye contact as he grins and slides them into his mouth, pink tongue slowly tracing the tips. “As sweet as I remember.”

He peels your underwear off, dropping them to the floor. Yoongi doesn’t lavish your thighs this time – he has time to do that. You feel it in the way his hands go under your legs, pulling them over his shoulder – he’ll take his time later.

Right now, he just wants you.

You gasp when his tongue traces your aching hole. Your hands shoot to his hair, silky soft as you hold him there. He hums, lazily dipping his tongue in to gather your juices. It feels so fucking good. He zigzags his tongue up your pussy, following the same circular motion around your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking hard.

“Oh fuck yeah,” you gasp, not caring that your voice carries up to the ceiling. “Fuck your mouth-”

He hums, enjoying the sounds he draws from you as he alternates between sucking at your clit and licking your hole. He eats you out vigorously, determined to cover every inch of your dripping pussy with his mouth. He’s noisy, humming and moaning with satisfaction as he sucks at you, wetness dripping down his chin.

“Missed you in my mouth,” he pants, looking up at you with fucked out eyes. You’re hypnotized, watching as you cradle his head between your legs. He grins, working his tongue between his teeth on your clit, making you kick your legs. “Such a pretty fucking girl, squirming under my tongue.”

Yoongi latches his mouth on your clit, sucking hard. You cum suddenly with no warning and a scream, lurching forward. He pins you down, sucking harder and sending you into a blinding frenzy. You can’t stay still, screaming his name until he relents, mouth kissing up your thighs as you pant, heart thundering through your entire body.

You can feel your pulse as you gulp for air, going boneless as he kisses up your stomach, circling your belly button before reaching your breasts. You whine when he licks lazy patterns around your nipples, using his teeth to pull at them.

“Yoongiiiii.”

He nips your soft flesh. “Hmmm?”

“Sensitive.”

“Good,” he mumbles, kissing you on the mouth. You lick into him eagerly and he smiles into the kiss, working his pants off. “Gonna let me split you open?”

“Please.”

He kisses you, shuffling you up the bed. You pry your legs open for him, wet and eager. He sees how pliant you are for him, eyes rolling back into his head as he takes a breath, trying to gain his composure. You don’t let him, raising your hand to your mouth and spitting in it generously before reaching between your legs and wrapping your hand around him.

“Fuuuck baby.”

You grin as he shivers. You pump him leisurely, spreading your spit up and down his velvety shaft. You love how heavy his cock is in your hand, watering at the way it twitches in your palm. You rub the head of his cock against your pussy, both of you groaning.

“Want you,” you pant, pressing the tip into your hole. He lets you take the lead. “Missed your cock so much.”

“Just my cock?” he teases.

“Shut up.”

Yoongi gets you back. Before you can slide him in, he jerks his hips forward, plunging in and hitting your g-spot on the first stroke. You go wild, thrashing beneath him as he grins, pulling all the way out and repeating the motion.

“Oh my fuck.” You’re grabbing at his back, nails digging in. You try to find purchase on anything, searching for something to ground you as he fucks into you hard and fast, his precision dead on. “Fuck – I’m gonna come again.”

“Yeah?” he demands. “Already?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut. It spurs him on. He grabs your hips, planting you firmly on the bed. Your hands grip his wrists as you begin to breath faster and faster, nearly sending yourself into hyperventilation as you hold your breath, the coil in your stomach shooting toward the sky and shattering the clouds.

It happens fast – you come around Yoongi, nearly going numb as you clench on him. You’re vaguely aware that he’s cursing, pausing his thrusts as you squeeze, pussy unrelenting. You collapse onto the bed after, barely able to gulp down air. He’s slow to thrust again, watching you with his mouth open, wonder on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard,” you rasp, voice raw.

He noses you. “That was fucking hot.” He pulls out of you and you furrow your brow when he flips you over. You shiver as he props your ass up in the air and spreas your thighs apart. “You’re going to do it again.”

Fuck. You have no idea if you can. But when he slides back into you, the stretch glorious and his pace slow, you think Yoongi can coax whatever he wants out of you. He’s always been able to. From the moment he made you tell him your name, or made you play piano for him, Yoongi has been able to get you to do what he wants.

Because you’ve always been his. Even when you were in different orbits or on other pages, you were bound to come back to him.

With the realization that you were built for him, you find the energy to fuck yourself back on him. He makes an appreciative noise, strokes deep and slow. He grabs at your ass, gripping tight as your skin smacks wetly together, your cum staining the places your skin meets.

You don’t think. It’s just Yoongi, the sounds he makes, and the way he makes you feel. The way his tip brushes that sweet spot in you, making your head hang between your arms as you work his cock.

Yoongi sneaks a hand around your waist, finger gently pressing on your clit.

“I don’t know if I can,” you beg. Yoongi is gentle, finger applying the barest pressure. You feel your stomach curl and you curse, tears streaming from your eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“My sweet girl,” he grunts, fucking into you harder. Your orgasm is slowly building and with the way his hips start to stutter, you know he’s close. “Together, yeah?”

You nod your head. Words are beyond you and you can only focus on the steady rhythm of his fingers on your pulsing clit and the deep slide of his cock.

Yoongi manages to do it again – he draws a gentle orgasm from you, long and soft as you drop down on the bed, ass pressed to his pelvis as he holds onto you with a bone-bruising grip. He moans your name, holding you to him as he comes, gasping for air.

Hours or minutes pass by. You’re not sure. There’s just soft bliss and the heat and tangle of blankets.

Yoongi pulls out of you, cum oozing down your legs. Stumbling and a little unsteady on his legs, he trails to your bathroom, knocking into the door. You barely manage a laugh, eyes shut as you drift a bit.

You flinch when you feel a warm washcloth on you, gentle as he wipes your legs, your battered pussy. You whine when he brushes the rag against your clit and he laughs with a soft apology. When he’s gone, your hand stretches on the mattress, seeking his warmth. It finds him on his return, slipping into the bed and seeking the warmth of your side.

Eyes fluttering open, you look at him in the dim light of the room. He is flushed pink and smiling your favorite gummy smile. You brush sweaty strands of hair from his eyes, fingers resting on his cheeks.

“I’m very happy that you came for me,” you whisper. “I missed you.”

“Missed you so much I made a ten track Mixtape.”

“Let’s listen.”

“You have a CD player?”

“You’re joking?” You crack your eyes open at him again and see him smiling shyly. “You burned me a CD?”

“I was feeling sentimental,” he defends. “I even wrote the tracks on it in sharpie like I used to.”

Your fingers brush his swollen, pouted lips. “What was the first song.”

His grin grows. “Saved by Khalid.”

-

Yoongi adjusts the headset on his head. The lights and soft background are perfect as Jungkook helps him click on a few settings in OBS. Jungkook gestures to the ‘go-live’ button before he steps out of the frame, walking around the other side of the row of setups where you’re watching.

The inside of the facilities is beautiful. He’s never been to your job, but he’s impressed with the setup and the way you command the room. Though Jungkook is there to help Yoongi with the streaming basics, something Yoongi is mostly unfamiliar with in the gaming world, you’re there for the materials.

You’ve perfectly placed his awards behind him. You’ve given him the chair with the company logo. The headphones of one of their partners. You’ve helped him construct the tweets, the teases in preparation of a long stream to debut the new agent and maps for your company’s came in conjunction with a new single.

It’s well thought. It’s a good partnership. But most importantly? Yoongi sees the way you lift your chin a little higher and push your shoulders a little straighter with pride when they commend you on the partnership.

And Seokjin is there. He’s happy and smiling, clapping Yoongi on the back and bragging that his sister is way cooler than he is. And Yoongi is so inclined to agree. Especially when you whoop his ass in the test rounds before the stream.

God he wants to fuck you stupid. But he can do that later. He has all of the time with you in the world. He doesn’t have to waste a single minute worrying he has to sneak in moments with you, that he has to hide behind doors.

“You ready, Jin?” Yoongi asks, looking at your brother. He’s on a setup much nicer than anything he’s ever had – and he’s made sure to tell you multiple times you should give him one – but he nods. You have no idea how he convinced you to get you to let him in on this. “Alright, let’s do this.”

Yoongi hits the live button. The window changes, immediately flooding the chat with viewers as he grins at the camera. “Hi guys,” he says awkwardly. His eyes glance up at you over the screen and you give him a shy smile. His heart flutters. “Welcome to today’s stream. I’m Agust D and today we’re trying how the highly anticipated new map and agent with my friend Jin. Let’s get it.”

“Yah – why is your username Mixtape?” Seokjin demands, clicking through the menu.

Yoongi’s eyes meet your sparkling ones over the monitor. “A joke between me and a close friend.”

“Alright, Mixtape it is.”

Yoongi smiles. “Mixtape it is.”

Previous Chapter | Extra Chapter

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throat goat || jhs

⇝ title: Throat Goat ⇝ pairing: rapper!hoseok x stylist!reader ⇝ genre: smut | slight frenemies with benefits ⇝ summary: The only thing you and Hoseok can agree on is that you know how to snatch his soul every time. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 2k ⇝ warnings: unedited | strong language | reader is having a rocky sex life but nothing major | light bickering | degradation | semi-public sex | blowjob | tiddie fucking | reader is a baddie; let’s be real | slight power play dynamics | rude!hobi but he’s just frustrated | hoseok manspreading is a warning | teasing | spit/saliva play for lube | name calling | cum swallowing/eating | a little strip tease | breast fondling/groping | throat fucking | hair pulling | both of them confuse the hell out of me | open ending for those who don’t like those | reader is a “giver” | gagging | some aftercare | mixed emotions i guess | i think that’s all ⇝ author’s note: We’re late, but we’re here. This is my gift to the Hoseok heauxs(myself). It’s unedited but promising lol. You’ll see what I mean. Anyway, please enjoy this pwp. If you aren’t into the degrading stuff please don’t read this because though it isn’t too bad, the way he speaks to her in some moments is out of pocket lol. He doesn’t mean it, though (I think). Banner by @badgalsgetinfree​ (myself) ⇝ playlist: Pretty Girls Walk by Pretty Boss Vette | Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa | Don’t Play With It by Lola Brooke & Billy B

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

“You wanted to see me?”

Czytaj dalej

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fall apart & redefine | knj

(or, things are hard. namjoon falls back into old habits.)

→ pairing: idol!namjoon x f. reader → genre: porn with plot | angst, smut, canon compliant → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: vague prior relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, namjoon is really going through it (a lot of talk about mental health, unhealthy coping mechanisms, identity crises), basically namjoon’s 220721 live happens and he booty calls his ex, when you try your best but you don’t succeed aka when you’re selfish and a lil toxic and trying to be better but aren’t sure how, this is basically a three-thousand word blowjob, so smut warnings: oral (m. receiving), some hand action, one very brief instance of dom!joon. this is basically my yoongi fic in a different outfit. → wordcount: 3.5k → listen to: 5 seconds of summer - take my hand • troye sivan - angel baby • duncan laurence - arcade • bloo - i’m the one • stray kids - red lights • keshi - xoxosos • blanks - lost in the moment → a/n: started this forever ago (literally right after the aforementioned live, so we are not gonna talk about how long it took me to write 3k words) and needed to get out of my slump so i’ve finally finished it. thank you to jess & bee for all of their help, always. thank you to namjoon for posting sadboi shit on his ig stories.

Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.

Czytaj dalej

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