Happy Agust, Hali

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.

Reprieve

You're the newest recruit to Namjoon's investigative team. Unbeknownst to the rest of the team, you've met before, and he knows about your past, which is why he doesn't trust you.

Pairing: Namjoon x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, police detective Namjoon, smut

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: Sex and swearing, non-graphic violence, mentions of drugs, gangs

Kim Namjoon’s heart is thumping in his chest, fuelled by adrenaline and terror. He’s in the middle of a drug deal that’s gone very badly wrong.

He’s undercover with his partner Hoseok, standing on the opposite end of the warehouse.

There isn’t gunfire yet, but weapons are drawn, fingers on trigger guards.

His partner angles his head to the exit. He’s called for backup, but they’re at least five minutes away.

There isn’t anything in the police manual that explains how to deal with this. Namjoon glances at Hoseok, who’s now signalling something he can’t make out.

What the hell is he trying to say?

The room is full of men with guns and itchy trigger fingers, apart from one woman, unarmed.

Namjoon feels that this situation is wrong, somehow. The only women who get involved in things like this are usually girlfriends of bangers or part of the gang, or being exploited in some way.

He meets her eyes.

She looks back at him evenly. She looks preternaturally calm.

Sirens cut through the tension, and the characters in the tableau start to murmur. Namjoon’s not sure who the first person to run is, but he knows who he has to follow.

Kang Min, the leader. Namjoon keeps his eyes on him as he makes his way through the warehouse.

The sound of a cocked trigger makes his heart stop.

Namjoon turns and realises there’s a gun levelled at his chest.

‘The fuck,’ comes a female voice. ‘Let the kid go.’

Namjoon watches as the woman he saw earlier steps in between him and the loaded gun.

‘Not the time, Jae. Let’s get the fuck out of here.’

Namjoon’s already moving. He hears swearing, the sound of a slap, but he doesn’t look back.

***

Back at the station, Namjoon’s in between conducting interviews with Hoseok when he sees her again.

She’s sitting slightly apart from the men. There’s an ugly bruise over her cheek, a cut close to her left eye.

He walks over.

‘Thanks for stopping that guy from shooting me,’ he says.

She flicks her eyes up at him. ‘You’re too young to die. Get better at protecting yourself or get out of the line of fire.’

She looks down, and Namjoon takes that as the end of the conversation.

Later, then he’s starting on the paperwork, he spots her booking sheet with her name and date of birth on.

L/N Y/N. Fuck. She’s younger than he is.

***

You’re early for the interview, but that was a mistake because looking at everyone else here is making you nervous.

Inside you’re the girl from the bad side of town. You doubt any of these middle-class twentysomethings have seen half of what you have.

It doesn’t make you feel any better that you can hotwire a car, shoplift with ease or that you know three ways to disarm a man without leaving a mark.

Right now, those are useless skills, because they’re not needed in this job. And you need this job.

‘L/N Y/N? You’re next.’

You nod at the woman running the interviews and wish you hadn’t worn a light skirt suit because you’d give anything to wipe your sweaty hands now.

The door opens, and a tall man holds out his hand to you.

‘L/N Y/N? I’m Kim Namjoon.’

You clasp his hand and give it a firm shake, then look up into his face.

It’s your first mistake.

It’s the man from the warehouse five years ago. The man who looked so nervous he was asking to be targeted.

The man you stopped Jae from shooting.

If he recognises you, he gives no sign.

The interview, with Kim Namjoon and two other men whose names escape you, goes fine, up until the point where they ask about previous jobs.

You shift in your seat. ‘This is my first job,’ you say, flatly.

One of the men looks at you curiously, but before he can say anything, Kim Namjoon is standing, offering his hand again. ‘Thank you for your time, we’ll be in touch by the end of the week.’

You can’t wait to get out of there.

You’re sitting in the café next door when the door pushes open and Kim Namjoon walks in.

You don’t know if he’s seen you, but you’re not going to call attention to yourself.

You look down at your coffee. The pastry that had been flaky and warm now tastes like sawdust.

His voice makes you jump.

‘Do you live close by?’ he asks.

‘Not far,’ you say, pasting a smile on your face to cover your nervousness.

‘Why do you want this job?’ he asks. His eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.

You click through the list of model answers in your head before deciding on the truth.

‘I lived it. Your other candidates will find links, but I’d guarantee you I’m the only one from that room who knows Kang Min’s son goes to school with the Sung family heiress.’ You shrug. ‘I can search a database as well as any of them, but I can put it all together too.’

You look up at him.

‘Why would I trust you?’ he asks. His face is unreadable.

You get up. ‘Do you have to ask?’ you ask him. ‘You’re alive, aren’t you?’

His hand lifts as though he’s going to stop you from leaving, but you aren’t done yet.

‘I need this job,’ you tell him.

It’s the closest to pleading you’ve ever come in your life. His expression softens, just enough for you to see that he’s wavering.

‘We’ll be in touch at the end of the week,’ he says.

You nod.

The call comes at the end of the week that you’ve been successful at interview and that you’re to start the following week. It’s an administrator who calls you to let you know.

You’d been hoping to speak to Kim Namjoon again.

***

It’s near the end of your first week as part of Kim Namjoon’s team, and so far all you’ve done is look up various snippets of information for members of the team.

You spend most of your days working alongside a young but serious looking man called Jungkook. He’s quiet, probably a little shy, but he helps you out a lot as he’s been working for Namjoon’s team for months.

You’re asking Jungkook about cross-referencing arrest warrants when you see the change in his demeanour. In one second flat, the soft, kind Jungkook you’d been talking to turns into serious Jungkook, sitting up straight, eyes wide, ready to take orders.

You know who he’s responded to even without turning around.

You stand, to give yourself extra height, which is ludicrous, because he still towers over you.

Kim Namjoon is tall, broad and intimidating as fuck.

He nods at you. ‘Can I speak to you about something in my office?’

You’re already stepping forward. ‘Yes, of course.’

You stand nervously in front of Kim Namjoon. He’s perched on the end of his desk.

‘Comms have intercepted a call about the Victoria Pier,’ he says. He pulls off his glasses and tosses them on his desk.

‘It’s an unusual location,’ you say, frowning. ‘They’ve never used it for a drop before.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Namjoon says.

‘Unless –‘

He looks up at you, waiting.

‘Kang Min’s new daughter in law used to date a guy who ran a small business out of the town next to the pier,’ you say.

The way Namjoon’s eyebrows rise show you that this is news to him.

‘Who was the guy?’ he asks.

‘Chan Jung-hyuk,’ you say. ‘Prick.’

Namjoon waits for you to say more.

‘I dated him briefly,’ you say shortly. ‘Anyway, I can check out the link.’

Namjoon nods. ‘Bring your findings directly to me by the end of shift.’

You nod and are heading out the door when he stops you.

‘Is your car the white Hyundai that parks near the end of the lot?’ he asks.

You look at him curiously.

‘You need to get it checked. It’s leaking oil.’

You feel your cheeks heat. ‘I’ll sort it,’ you say.

***

Your father was the bookkeeper for the Kangs for most of his life. He’d inherited the job from his uncle before him. Your family have worked for the Kangs for generations, a step removed from the violence but always aware of it.

When your father died a few years ago, there had been no one to take his place from your family. You’re an only child, your mother died when you were very young.

It was the perfect opportunity to get out.

Your father had been well-respected, loyal and reliable. He’d kept you as separate from his work as he could have, as a result you’ve always been on the outskirts of the gang, with no involvement with anyone from the gang.

Kang Min had sent you his condolences after your father’s death, and for a while you’d waited for a summons. It had never come. You’d chosen to move away from your family home and to start a new life.

Working for the police had seemed like playing with fire, but over the years, with no contact, you think perhaps you’ve got away with it.

The job you’ve got now pays good money, with hours that suit you and is close to your new home. Plus, you’re technically just a data drone. There’s nothing about you to attract any attention.

It’s exactly how you want it.

Namjoon eyes you as you finish explaining your report.

‘The other members of the team don’t know about your link to the Kangs,’ he tells you.

‘There’s no link,’ you reply, terse.

Namjoon scoffs. ‘Hoseok may not remember you from that warehouse, but I sure do.’

‘If I hadn’t saved your life, you wouldn’t remember me either,’ you tell him. ‘Seems unfair that I should be punished just because I stuck my neck out for you.’

Namjoon stares at you.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle. ‘You’d been beaten when I saw you at the station that night. Was that because you stopped him from shooting me?’

‘I can’t remember,’ you say. You may not be part of the Kangs but you’re no snitch.

Namjoon nods. ‘Thanks for your report. It’s very helpful.’

‘Will there be anything else, sir?’ you ask.

He shakes his head, and you leave his office, breathing a sigh of relief as you do.

***

You’re frowning over your car, trying to get it to start, when another car pulls up alongside you.

You glance over as Kim Namjoon rolls his window down.

‘Good morning,’ you say.

‘Car trouble?’ he asks, getting out.

He’s in his shirtsleeves, you can see his jacket thrown over the passenger seat.

You watch as he rolls up the cuffs, forearms flexing, biceps pressing against the material.

He catches you looking.

‘The car,’ he prompts. His lips are perfectly straight, but there’s a spark of something in his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ you say distractedly. ‘It won’t start.’

‘I’ll give you a jump but I think you’ll need to take this to the workshop,’ he says.

You don’t know the first thing about cars apart from how to steal one.

You think you’d better keep that information to yourself.

After an unsuccessful jump, Namjoon shuts your car hood for you. ‘I’ll give you the number for the garage I use. My friend Taehyung is pretty skilled.’

You nod.

‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift to work,’ he says, opening the passenger door. He picks up his jacket, and you slide into the seat.

Namjoon’s a good driver. You glance over at him as he weaves through traffic.

‘How are you finding the job?’ he asks, without looking at you.

You lean back into the seat. ‘It’s great,’ you say, honestly. ‘Jungkook’s fun to work with.’

‘He’s a good guy,’ Namjoon agrees. ‘The info you got checks out,’ he confirms to you.

You hadn’t been worried that it wouldn’t, but you guess if you were Namjoon you might not trust you either.

You chew on your bottom lip worriedly as you look out the window at the passing traffic.

You wonder if Namjoon knowing about your past is going to colour his judgement of you.

You need this job, it was the highest paying out of all the jobs you were qualified for.

You realise Namjoon’s watching you in the rearview mirror.

You wonder what he thinks of you.

‘It’s routine to double and triple check all the information I’m given,’ he says to you. ‘It isn’t personal.’

‘Of course,’ you murmur.

You can’t get out of his car fast enough.

***

It’s a team dinner at the bistro opposite work.

You’ve never really been in this kind of situation before, but at least you know Jungkook.

You recognise Hoseok from your interview. He smiles at you kindly.

You’re relaxing a little, the rest of the team seem nice, when a familiar figure enters the restaurant.

You freeze in your seat, then hurriedly get up and excuse yourself.

It’s Hye-jin. You went to school together, which is fine, but you happen to know she’s dating a member of the Kangs. Which would also be fine, apart from that she has the biggest mouth this side of the planet.

You don’t think anyone will be interested that you were sitting with a table full of cops, but you can’t be too careful.

You let yourself out the back entrance of the restaurant, through the kitchen, and startle as a hand reaches out to grab your arm.

‘What’s up?’ Namjoon asks.

His voice is quiet, almost casual, but his eyes on you are shrewd, observant.

‘I feel sick,’ you say, hoping your voice sounds as casual. ‘I thought I’d leave early. I was just about to text Jungkook.’

‘Let me take you home,’ he says.

‘What? No, it’s fine, I’m getting a taxi.’

What does this man want from you?

He hasn’t let go of your arm. His voice hardens. ‘Do I need to be worried about you?’

His words are laden with meaning.

‘I’m not a snitch,’ you tell him, evenly. ‘I’m just not sure it’d be good for me if the Kangs knew I was working for the police.’

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you home, then I think you’d better tell me the whole story.’

You stare at his hand around your arm. ‘What are you going to do if I don’t go with you?’ you ask.

He drops your arm immediately. ‘I’m asking,’ he tells you.

You consider the repercussions for your job if you don’t talk to him.

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.’

Namjoon takes you home. You lead him up to your small apartment. There are no pictures anywhere, you know how it looks.

‘My parents are dead,’ you tell him. ‘I have no family.’

You tilt your chin. ‘My dad used to work for the Kangs. He was their bookkeeper until he died a few years ago. I haven’t heard from Kang Min since.’

Namjoon’s sitting on your couch despite the fact you hadn’t invited him to sit.

‘Why do you need this job?’ he asks.

‘I need the money.’

‘I can’t afford a mole in my team,’ Namjoon tells you.

‘I’m not a mole,’ you say. ‘But if you can’t trust me you might as well fire me. If you’re suspicious of me, your team will be too.’

You can’t believe you’re being judged for risking your own life for Namjoon, but in your experience, life’s never been fair.

‘What were you doing at the warehouse that night?’ Namjoon asks.

‘I was dating one of the guys. Jae. No one ever believed I wasn’t a part of it. They knew my dad was the bookkeeper.’ You smile, but there’s no humour in it.

‘Jae couldn’t believe it when I stepped in front of you. Like I couldn’t believe it when he slapped me with his gun.’ You shrug. ‘I guess it was a night of surprises for all of us.’

‘Why did you stop him?’ Namjoon asks. He’s still looking at you, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

‘Honestly, Namjoon? I didn’t believe he’d shoot me. I didn’t think you deserved to die.’

You give Namjoon a cold look. ‘I’m rethinking that now.’

To your surprise Namjoon laughs. ‘A lot of people say that about me,’ he tells you. ‘That they want to kill me.’

You slip off your jacket. ‘I can’t imagine why,’ you say.

Namjoon stands, and you realise he’s staring at you again.

You follow his gaze and too late, remember your tattoo. It’s visible under the gauzy material of your blouse, a swirling snake that curls under your breast and around to your back.

You take a step close to Namjoon. ‘If you want to see it close up, you’ll have to buy me a drink first,’ you tell him, hoping to throw him.

He looks down at you, unmoving. There’s heat in his gaze now, making you feel warm all over.

His hand comes up, thumb brushing your lower lip so gently it’s almost like you’re imagining it.

You flick your tongue out at his thumb. His hand curls over the angle of your jaw, fixing the position of your face.

He leans down, slow, giving you plenty of time to move away.

Like you were ever going to.

You meet his lips eagerly, closing your eyes at the feel of him. His lips are firm and warm. He kisses you slowly, dragging his lips over yours, tugging at your top lip. He slants his head to get closer, and you slip your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like the sake he’d been drinking at dinner.

When you pull away, you lean your forehead against his chest, trying to catch your breath. His hand cups your head, holding you to him.

He huffs out a breath.

‘What am I going to do with you?’ he says.

You’d answer, but it sounds he’s asking himself more than you.

***

Jungkook’s looking at you thoughtfully, and this worries you, because nothing good ever came of Jungkook thinking.

You think you’re as smart as him, but he has a knack of hitting the nail on the head.

‘Pocky?’ you offer, hoping to distract him.

Jungkook accepts. Now he looks faintly ridiculous with a chocolate stick on either side of his mouth, like tusks, but that thoughtful look is still in his eyes.

You get up and start sorting through the crime scene reports Namjoon’s had delivered to your office.

‘I was walking to my car last night and this guy came up to ask about you,’ Jungkook says.

The chocolate stick in your hand snaps.

‘Yeah?’ you say. Your back is to Jungkook, thankfully he can’t see the expression on your face.

Jungkook hits a key on his keyboard. ‘This guy.’

You turn around to see the database picture he’s pulled up and helpfully zoomed into.

It’s Jae.

Specifically Kim Jae-beom, your ex-boyfriend who was a hairsbreadth away from killing Namjoon, all those years ago.

‘He’s an ex,’ you tell Jungkook.

‘There was a drug bust a few years ago, before I started. Namjoon and Hoseok were leading the case.’ Jungkook’s looking at you. ‘I was reading through the reports, and I recognised your picture.’

You look Jungkook fully in the face but don’t say anything.

Your face healed a long time ago, you don’t even have a scar, but right now it feels like it’s burning.

‘Where are you going with this, Jungkook?’ you ask.

Jungkook asks, ‘Why was he looking for you?’ His expression isn’t unkind, but you sense he’s not going to let it go until he gets an answer.

‘I don’t know,’ you say, honestly. ‘I haven’t spoken to him in years.’

‘I think I should let Namjoon know,’ Jungkook says, gently.

‘Sure,’ you say. You know you shouldn’t feel hurt, Jungkook’s just doing his job, but part of you had thought your relationship was friendlier than colleagues. You’ve been working together closely for months, you think you get on well.

That’s what you’d thought, anyway.

All day, you wait for Namjoon to haul you into his office and ask you again about your previous gang ties, but it doesn’t happen. By the end of the day, your nerves are frayed.

You nod goodbye to Jungkook and head for the bus stop. Your car’s still at the mechanic, Namjoon’s friend Taehyung seems reliable but you won’t be able to collect it until next week.

You’re already thinking about going straight to bed when you reach your apartment. You’re fumbling with the keys when a shadow falls across your door.

‘We need to talk,’ says Jae.

You shove your keys into your pocket. ‘What about, Jae?’

‘Can we do this inside your apartment?’ Jae asks. He’s not really asking.

You let him in and wait.

‘Are you working for the police?’ Jae asks, as soon as the door’s shut behind him. He leans against it. Ther’s no other way out of your apartment.

‘I just do data entry and follow up parking tickets,’ you tell him. You’re only partly lying. ‘A job’s a job.’

Jae’s still leaning against the door, the there’s a tenseness to his posture, like a coiled spring.

‘You should find another job,’ he tells you, flatly.

‘There is no other job,’ you reply. ‘And I was lucky to get this one.’

Jae moves quickly. In a move too fast for you to fully follow, he’s got you pinned against the kitchen counter, hand out flat. Your wooden chopping board slams down on your hand, and you hear the thud before you register the pain.

You push out at Jae with your other hand, but he’s strong.

‘We have a history, which is why I’m going easy on you,’ he tells you. It’s ironic given the flat look in his eyes. He doesn’t look like he cares at all that you’re writhing in pain.

‘If I have to come back, it’s not just your hand that they’ll have to put back together,’ he says.

He slams the board down on your hand again, and you bite your lip until you taste blood in your mouth.

He’s gone before you can say anything else, leaving your front door ajar.

***

You take two days off work, just until you can move your fingers without crying. Thankfully, it’s your non-dominant right hand.

Even so, Jungkook notices.

He raises his eyebrow at you.

You’re not telling him a damn thing if you can help it.

You’re staring at each other in challenge when you hear pointed throat clearing.

You look up to see Kim Namjoon.

‘Y/N, can I see you in my office please?’ he asks, politely.

You stand and follow him. You resist the urge to glare at Jungkook before you go.

Namjoon stands behind his desk, as though he wants to put distance between you. You haven’t seen him since you kissed him.

‘Please sit,’ he says.

You’ve barely sat back before he asks, ‘What happened to your hand?’

‘I was clearing out boxes in my apartment, and a stack of books fell on my hand,’ you lie. You’ve been practicing it so much it rolls of your tongue smoothly.

‘Is it broken?’ Namjoon asks.

‘It’s just a little swollen,’ you reply.

‘You should get it checked out,’ Namjoon advises you.

‘I have,’ you say, briskly. ‘Anything else?’

‘Jungkook said one of the Kang clan approached him to ask about you,’ Namjoon tells you.

‘It was Jae,’ you say.

Namjoon’s looking at your hands folded across your lap. ‘Did you speak to him?’

‘The Kangs know I’m working for the police,’ you tell him, honest. ‘They want me to find another job.’

Namjoon nods. ‘Do you want a transfer?’

You shrug. ‘I don’t think going to a different department will solve the problem. They’re not going to check which division I work for, they just don’t want me working for the police.’

‘I can help you find another post,’ Namjoon says.

For some reason his words, like Jungkook’s, cut deep. On some level you understand that he doesn’t want trouble in his new investigative unit, but he’d been prepared to take you on when he thought you might give him intel on the Kangs. Now he’s quick to cut you loose when there’s the slightest hint of trouble.

You haven’t done anything wrong, but it feels like you’re being punished anyway.

The memory of his lips on yours makes it feel even more like he’s pushing you away.

It was foolish for you to ever think you might be able to escape your past.

‘Sure,’ you say. ‘I’ll put in my resignation.’

Namjoon gets up. ‘It’s safer for you to have another job,’ he says.

‘It is,’ you agree. You look at the floor. ‘Will that be it?’

You spend the rest of the day working solidly. You’re preparing to leave when Namjoon stops by your office.

‘Need a lift home?’ he asks.

‘I’m fine, there’s a bus,’ you say. You force yourself to meet his eyes.

‘It’s on my way,’ he says.

***

Namjoon walks you up to your apartment despite your protests. You look around a little warily for Jae but thankfully he’s nowhere to be found.

‘I’ll pick you up for work tomorrow,’ Namjoon says. ‘If that’s ok with you.’

‘Thanks for the lift,’ you tell him.

You’re halfway into your living room before you realise it’s all wrong. You’re looking for the baseball bat you laid near your front door when there’s movement in your peripheral vision.

You’re shoved up against the wall, stars behind your eyelids as your face hits the exposed brick.

Jae’s merciless, strong, his hand curled around your neck squeezing so tight you can’t breathe.

You struggle against him, elbows out. He lets out a grunt as your elbow connects with his chest.

You both freeze as the knock on your door sounds.

It’s Namjoon, calling your name through the door.

Jae’s hand closes over your mouth.

All you know is, Namjoon’s bigger than Jae and you could sure use his muscle right about now.

You stomp down on Jae’s foot, just enough for Jae’s hand to slip off your face, then scream as loudly as you can.

The knocking stops, then the door shakes in its frame as Namjoon puts his weight into kicking it open.

Jae shoves you onto the floor and runs to your bedroom. He’s out the window before you’re up.

Your door flies open just as you’re about to get to it.

Namjoon’s breathing hard, scanning the room.

‘He went out through the window,’ you tell him.

‘What the hell happened?’ Namjoon asks. His words are harsh, but his hands are gentle on your face as he examines it.

‘Kang really doesn’t want me working for the police,’ you say. You hiss as Namjoon’s thumb brushes across a tender spot on your brow.

‘Do you have ice?’ Namjoon asks. He’s already heading for your freezer.

***

You’re trying not to get flustered at Namjoon’s proximity to you, but you’re failing. His warm hands are cupping your face as he holds a makeshift ice pack to your forehead.

You lift your hand to take over holding the ice pack, and you see his gaze fall to your hand.

You’re glad Namjoon was there to help you, but you don’t need to give him information he didn’t ask for.

He’s asking now, though.

‘Your hand. Did books really fall on it?’ he asks.

‘Jae,’ you say.

A muscle flexes in Namjoon’s jaw.

‘Why didn’t you just tell me Jae was threatening you?’

You look at him warily.

‘We’re the fucking police, Y/N. We look after our own.’

‘I didn’t realise I was considered one of you,’ you say.

‘That’s a failure of my leadership. You’re part of my team.’ Namjoon shakes his head.

You get up. ‘Want a drink?’

Namjoon gets up to help you. ‘Where else are you hurt?’

You catch sight of your face in the mirrored surface of the toaster. ‘Nowhere,’ you say, wincing at the sight of the graze across your cheek and forehead.

‘Why did you come back, anyway?’ you ask, curious, as you sip your water.

Namjoon frowns. ‘The front entrance to your building. There was a dent in the metal frame.’ He shrugs. ‘Also, I wanted to ask about your hand.’

‘Well, thanks,’ you say, belatedly.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear you could come to me,’ he tells you. He looks regretful. ‘I’m also sorry about kissing you. It was – inappropriate.’

You look up at him, straight-faced. ‘Not as inappropriate as what I wanted to do with you.’

Namjoon stares at you for a moment, then huffs out a humourless laugh.

‘How could any man look at your face and want to hurt you,’ he mutters. He doesn’t sound like he’s asking you, so you don’t answer.

He tosses you the ice pack. ‘Come on. I’ve got a spare room at mine. Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?’

***

You’re sipping a mug of tea Namjoon’s made you and looking around Namjoon’s house. He lives in a two storey in the suburbs, it’d been a half hour drive from yours.

Namjoon’s looking at you.

‘Do you want another job?’ he asks.

You choose your words carefully. ‘It’s probably for the best. The Kangs are aware I’m working for the police, and you’re aware of my links to the Kangs. I’m a liability.’

‘You’re not a liability,’ Namjoon says. ‘I don’t think you’re working for them.’

You laugh, dryly. ‘Jungkook and I are at a crossroads. If you’re ever worried about a mole in your unit, never suspect Jungkook. He’s so loyal to you I thought he was going to kick me out himself.’

Namjoon’s frowning, so you add, ‘it’s not just about you trusting me Your team has to trust me too. It’s only a matter of time before someone else finds out.’

‘Finds out what? That you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that you saved my life?’

You look at each other.

‘You don’t owe me just because I did that.’ You put your hand on Namjoon’s arm.

‘You stepped in front of a loaded gun, for me.’

‘I didn’t know you. I would have done it for anyone.’

‘Still,’ Namjoon says, frustrated. ‘You did it for me.’

‘So what, now you’re responsible for me?’ you scoff.

‘Yes,’ Namjoon says. ‘Also, I hired you. I put you in this situation. And if I’d broken that door down faster you wouldn’t be sitting there looking at me with that goddamn huge graze on your face.’

‘Don’t look at me then,’ you say, tiredly.

‘That’s the problem, that I can’t fucking stop looking at you,’ Namjoon replies.

You stare at him.

‘Should we just stop talking and fuck instead?’ you ask.

There’s a flicker in Namjoon’s gaze.

‘If only fucking was the answer,’ Namjoon says. He gets up. ‘Go to bed. I’ve got to do some thinking about tomorrow.’

***

You’re quietly heading towards the door the next morning when Namjoon calls out from the kitchen.

He comes to the door, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

He holds it out to you.

‘If you’re going to sneak away you might as well have breakfast first.’

‘I wasn’t going to---’

You break off at the look on his face.

You take the coffee he’s holding out to you, and set it down. You take his other mug and set it down, then tug his arm.

You reach up and curl your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him. He leans down, and you go on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.

Your arms loosen, and you’re slipping down a little when he curls his arms around you, big hands cupping your ass.

‘Did you sleep?’ you ask him, between kisses.

‘Not a wink,’ he tells you, voice husky, sexy.

‘I thought about you,’ you tell him. ‘Like this.’

Namjoon nibbles your neck. ‘Hold on,’ he says.

He carries you to his bedroom, his king bed with its rumpled grey sheets.

‘Are we doing this?’ he asks, kissing down your neck, tugging at your t-shirt.

‘Hey, I saved your life,’ you tease. ‘You fucking owe me.’

Namjoon laughs.

‘I’m going to show you how grateful I am,’ he promises.

***

Namjoon’s hands are splayed on your back, smoothing over your skin as he kisses you. He’s slow, languid, like he has nothing but time.

You, however, have been fantasizing about his arms around you ever since that night at the restaurant.

‘C’mon, Joon,’ you whisper to him, positioning yourself in his lap, legs spread to accommodate his torso. You roll your hips over his to encourage him.

Namjoon’s pulling the front plackets of his shirt that you’re wearing apart. He slips a hand over your tattoo.

‘What the fuck is this?’ he asks, fingers tracing the snake, from bevelled head, down the coiled body, to the tail over your hip.

‘It was easier to blend in than to stand out,’ you tell him, kissing his neck. Your tongue flicks against his ear. ‘Especially when I started dating Kangs.’

Namjoon groans. ‘Do that again.’

‘This?’ you ask. You nibble at his ear, pressing your lips to his neck. He smells delicious, woody, musky.

Namjoon’s big hands curl over your ass as you roll your hips against his again, helping you grind on him.

You bite his neck, and he groans again. ‘Fuck. Let me get a condom.’

You help him slide his briefs off, just enough that his rigid cock is freed, slapping against his skin. He’s so hard you’re worried it’s going to hurt.

Namjoon presses the condom into your hand. ‘Put it on me,’ he says.

You’re tearing into it when his hand slips between your legs, fingers sliding through your arousal. He slips a finger into you, and you clench involuntarily around him.

‘One more,’ he grunts. He slips another finger into you, other hand over your hip, thumb stroking over your clit.

Your hands tighten over his cock, and he groans. ‘Fuck.’

He jerks away, pushes you back onto the bed and presses his whole face between your legs. He licks you out in earnest, humming his approval as you get slicker and wetter for him.

‘I need –’ You break off, and Namjoon nods.

‘I’ve got you,’ he tells you.

He slips the condom that’s dropped out of your hand onto himself, coming back to rest on top of you.

‘You ready?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

He watches your face as he positions himself, pushing in slowly, inching his way in.

Your hips wriggle and you push up, trying to take more of him.

‘Joon,’ you plead.

He laughs darkly. ‘I’m here.’ He pushes in another inch, so maddeningly slow you could scream.

He dips his head to kiss you as he pushes the rest of the way in, tongue invading your open mouth as he fills you with his cock.

‘Good?’ he asks.

You open your eyes when you realise he’s waiting for an answer.

You nod. ‘Good. Keep going. Fuck. Keep going.’

Namjoon’s teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thrusts, filling you again and again, rocking against your clit. His thumbs on your hips feel like they’re bruising you, but you’re barely aware of it, too caught up in how good he feels.

The weight of him, the stretch of his cock, the sweat glistening between your bodies.

You cry out as he fucks you, relentlessly pulling you to the edge with him.

‘Go on,’ he urges. ‘You’re nearly there.’

His voice, already deep and low at the best of times, sounds guttural, more of a rumble than actual words.

Another push of his hips, a well-timed long stroke of his thumb, and you’re cumming on him. Namjoon’s hips stutter as you cry his name, and his rhythm falters, a low moan falling from his lips as he spills into you.

He’s panting, trying to catch his breath, when you curl your arms around him, pulling him down to you.

‘Don’t want to crush you,’ he utters. ‘Your hand.’

‘I like the weight of you,’ you tell him.

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

Again, he doesn’t sound like he’s really asking you, so you don’t answer.

***

Again, you’re nervous, but this time it’s a situation that’s more familiar to you.

You’re not the girl from the wrong side of the tracks trying to pretend to be middle-class and uneventful at an interview.

Today, you’re on your own turf.

Kang Min used to come to your house to meet your father when you were a girl, and they used to drink and talk and smoke well into the early hours of the morning.

You didn’t always stay up with them, but Kang Min was never anything but kind to you.

You bow as you approach him, at a hole in the wall noodle restaurant your father used to take you to as a child.

‘Uncle,’ you say, politely.

He sits back, and there’s a sudden flare of fear in your chest as you wonder if you’ve misjudged this situation completely.

Instead, he smiles. ‘Y/N. You’ve grown up.’

‘I found this amongst Papa’s things,’ you tell him, holding it out. ‘I thought he’d want you to have it.’

He looks at it as you place it on the table in front of him.

It’s a silver box lighter, the one your father always used to use when they smoked together at your house. You’ve polished the tarnish away yourself.

He looks up at you. ‘Your father was one of my best friends, you know that.’

‘I know, uncle.’

‘He never wanted you involved in the business,’ he says. ‘I’ve always respected his wishes.’

He looks at you shrewdly. ‘What’s this about you working for the police?’

‘I needed a job,’ you tell him. ‘I can’t live off the inheritance.’

‘He wanted you taken care of. I promised him I’d do that,’ Kang Min says. ‘Will you find another job?’

‘I’ve resigned,’ you tell him, truthfully.

‘He built up a trust for you. I’ll give you access,’ Kang Min tells you. ‘I’d have given it you sooner if you’d come to me.’

‘I didn’t know – ‘

He cuts you off. ‘I’m not going to involve you in anything, as long as you give me your word you’ll not lose your loyalty to your father’s memory.’

His eyes flicker over the tattoo that’s faintly visible through your gauzy shirt. You hadn’t been entirely truthful with Namjoon. The tattoo had never been for the men you dated. It’d been one of your father’s ideas to prove your loyalty to Kang Min after he was gone.

Your brilliant, pragmatic father who’d taught you how to hotwire a car, shoplift with ease and three ways to disarm a man without leaving a mark.

‘I won’t forget,’ you tell him.

He smiles then, eyes on the lighter you’ve given him.

‘See that you don’t.’

***

Namjoon’s waiting a block away from where you met with Kang Min. The relief on his face when he sees you makes you feel warm inside.

‘Done?’ he asks.

‘Done,’ you say.

You’re another block away before you speak again. ‘You’re going to help me find another job, right?’

‘What would you like to do?’ asks Namjoon.

‘I always wanted to learn to fix cars,’ you say. ‘Think Taehyung will take me on?’

Namjoon whistles. ‘I think you’d be hot as a mechanic.’

‘I don’t know though, who’s going to save your ass at drug busts?’ you tease.

Namjoon levels you with a look. ‘You know that was one of my first cases as a detective.’

You raise your eyebrows. ‘And?’

‘I’m a better cop now than I was.’

You nod. ‘More careful?’

Namjoon gives you a crooked smile. ‘Stakes are higher now that I’ve got your pretty ass waiting for me at home.’

‘Damn, you haven’t even taken me to dinner yet?’

‘Let’s go right now,’ Namjoon says. ‘Then I’m taking you home with me.’

He curls his arm around you and you lean into his embrace.

You don’t know how this is all going to work out, but it’s a promising start.

©hamsterclaw 2022

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baby, don't go | myg

➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 5.1k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.

Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.

Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.

Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.

Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."

Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.

Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.

In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.

"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."

Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"

"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."

The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.

Not yet.

It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.

"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."

LIAR.

In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.

Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.

At least not until morning.

Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?

Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.

The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.

You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.

Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."

Panic grabs you by the throat.

This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.

Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.

How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...

You thought you were going to marry him.

The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.

"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."

The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.

"It's just been one of those days."

Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.

What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.

Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.

Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.

“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”

Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.

Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.

Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest

“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”

You hate that you stutter over his name.

And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.

She’s always hated him.

Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.

God, why does she have to be right?

You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.

You only just found out.

Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.

She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”

Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”

The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.

And it helps for a time, truly.

But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.

Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.

“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”

You hum, worlds away.

“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”

Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.

Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”

“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”

Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.

Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.

The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.

And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.

Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.

Shit.

You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”

Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.

“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”

You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”

“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”

She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”

You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.

How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?

He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.

You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”

You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”

You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”

Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.

Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.

Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.

“So-o, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry?”

She nods towards Yoongi subtly.

He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”

“Oh my god!”

Kae-In shrugs. “What.”

“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”

A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.

“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”

A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.

As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.

All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

To feel like someone’s first and only choice.

You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.

They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.

Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.

It’s a terrible idea.

But maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.

Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.

Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.

Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.

Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.

Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.

His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.

It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.

Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess. 

Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.

You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.

It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.

Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.

And that?

So not good.

Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.

There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.

“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”

You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.

Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.

Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.

You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.

When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.

He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.

Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.

It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.

No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.

It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.

Of course, it has to be him.

Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.

“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”

As you pass by, he catches your arm.

Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.

His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.

All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.

"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.

A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.

Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.

Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”

His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.

Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.

“I haven’t said hello yet.”

Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.

Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.

His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.

Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.

“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”

He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.

The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.

“Oh?”

You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.

You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.

Always has.

“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”

You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.

Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.

His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.

You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.

Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.

He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.

His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.

“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.

How is this my life, you think, dazed.

His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”

After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.

With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.

For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.

He holds you down.

His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.

You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.

A sweet ache settles low and deep.

“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”

His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.

The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.

Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.

Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.

“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”

“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”

“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”

A smile, all teeth.

“Isn’t that right, baby?”

You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.

Two can play that game.

“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”

You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.

”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.

Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.

Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.

Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.

Shit, that’s so unfair.

Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?

Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.

Big mistake.

Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.

Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.

Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.

Sex with him was always stupidly good.

All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.

Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.

He’s ruined you.

His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.

Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”

Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.

“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”

Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.

In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.

All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.

Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.

His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.

“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.

You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”

Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.

Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.

His knuckles brush your skin.

Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.

Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.

His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.

You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.

“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.

You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.

He hisses, thrusts off beat.

Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”

Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.

Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.

Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.

Fuck, he’s handsome like this.

It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.

The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.

He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”

It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.

A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.

In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.

He’s a goner.

Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.

Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.

He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”

“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”

In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.

Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”

Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.

“Can you do that for me?”

Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”

By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.

The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.

---

Mixtape | Series Masterlist | 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: 68,554

☾ 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. 

☾ 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 |

Chapter One

→ In which you re-unite with your friends after two years, dragging up old memories, good and bad, and in which Yoongi gets just a taste of what he has been missing.

Chapter Two

→ In which you and Yoongi end up sharing a room in Jungkook's desperation to get laid.

Chapter Three

→ In which you and Yoongi ride the high and enjoy the moment - except you get stuck in a closet with him while your brother is on the other side of the door.

Chapter Four

→ In which it all comes crashing down, and theres no way around, only through.

Extra Chapter

→ Celebrating Agust D is your new favorite pastime

Extra Chapter

→ Yoongi visits you in your city and everything goes wrong

Extra Chapter

→ Yoongi can't stop thinking about the lost cat outside your new apartment

---

Desecrate

A fall from grace causes you to stumble into the hands of a demon prince. Inspired by Lilith.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of murder, non-explicit attempted assault, angels and demons

Min Yoongi is older than most creatures to walk this Earth, this much he knows. It’s been years since he last felt that any of the petty skirmishes mortals involve themselves in was worth any of his interest or his time. 

Even though time, for him, stretches out, almost infinitely. 

He doesn’t know your face at all, but you catch his attention, and hold it. He can sense your mortality slipping through your fragile grasp as you grapple with the men holding you down. 

You’re not going to win, though he admires your grit. 

Yoongi’s no stranger to blood but he has no desire to watch you get used and torn to shreds. He’s moving on when your eyes meet his. 

You plead with him wordlessly, desperately, as the light dims in your eyes. 

Yoongi knows that this is a dangerous time, the twilight between living and dying. You’re straddling both worlds, dying even as you push uselessly at the hands around your neck. 

It would be facetious to say that Yoongi kills without a shred of remorse. It’s more truthful to say that he kills without a thought. 

He’s standing amidst the mess he made, you at his feet, your face pressed to the ground. 

You’re unconscious, but you’ll live, unlike the men Yoongi dispatched on your behalf. 

There’s something unbearable to him about the way the lovely line of your cheek is touching the dirt of this human dumping ground. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him, but he takes you with him as he leaves. 

***

You wake in stages, in a very human way. 

Your eyes flicker open, shut. Yoongi can hear your heart accelerate, your breathing quicken, he can see your muscles tense. 

Your mouth opens on an inhale, and your eyes flicker open again. 

‘Where am I?’ you rasp. 

Your voice is soft, plaintive, your vocal cords swollen from your assault. 

‘You’re in my home,’ Yoongi replies. 

When you turn your head to look at him, your eyes are more focused. 

‘And who are you?’ 

‘I saved your life,’ Yoongi tells you. 

He watches as your eyes scan the domed ceiling, the painted frescoes, the stained glass. Your gaze stops at a scene of the Madonna. 

Yoongi studies your profile, the dirt smudged on your cheekbone he’d not bothered to wipe off.

Your gaze returns to him.

‘You’re Min Yoongi.’

It’s not a question, but Yoongi’s compelled to answer anyway, because the fact that you’ve guessed his identity means there’s more to you than he first thought.

You sit up, and Yoongi wonders how he managed to miss the celestial aura emanating from you. 

Lords and beings.

You’re an angel.

Seokjin is never going to let him live this down.

Min Yoongi, ancient slayer of humans, demonic legend from the mediaeval history of man, saved an angel.

Yoongi gets up, lets a tiny fraction of his darkness show. His voice deepens, resonating through the chapel.

‘Leave.’

You’re frightened, he can see it in the way you’re tensed, body held taut like a bow.

‘I can’t. It’s the night of Pandemonium.’

Pandemonium marks the beginning of when the Gates of Hell open each year. From your reaction, Yoongi guesses you’re a young angel, limited in power, incapable of cloaking or protecting yourself.

He laughs sardonically. ‘I don’t think the home of the bulgasari Prince is the right place for an angel on the night of Pandemonium, do you?’

You clasp your hands.

‘I’m not an angel.’

Yoongi stares at you.

‘Not anymore. I was cast out.’

For the first time, Yoongi feels a flicker of interest.

He can feel the scales in his mind threaten to tip by the tiniest of margins. 

For the first time, he thinks he might not kill you.

Seemingly unaware of his internal debate, you take a step closer to him.

Towards the most dangerous being in the room.

Yoongi flicks his tongue over his lower lip, steps forward so you can see him in the red glow.

His human form is beautiful, drawing others in. Leading them to their own destruction.

He can see the way your pupils dilate, your tongue wets your bottom lip, as you see him clearly for the first time.

‘You want to stay with me?’ he asks, silky. He takes another step.

You tilt your chin so you can keep looking at him.

‘Show me how much you want to stay.’

Yoongi turns his head towards the painting above the hearth.

‘Destroy it.’

You turn to the painting. 

It’s from the 14th century, by a little known Italian painter called Diavollo, depicting the death of Santa Lucia. He was gifted it by a corrupt nobleman in exchange for his life. Yoongi had taken both. 

You cast a defiant look at him, rush towards the painting. You stop, head bowed, before it.

‘I can’t.’ 

‘You can,’ Yoongi says, pitching his voice low, letting the heat of it flare out to you.

You clasp your hands together again, despairing. ‘I can’t.’

Steps heavy, head bowed, you head for the door. 

You stop just inside the front entrance to the chapel, as if giving him a chance to change his mind before he sends you to certain death.

Yoongi’s had countless beings plead for mercy from him in his long life and he has never once given in.

There’s a stirring in the recesses of his mind as he admires your profile for the last time. It feels like longing.

Then you’re gone, door swinging closed behind you.

***

Yoongi dislikes gatherings like this, when the princes of Hell and their delegates celebrate their misdeeds in front of the beings who serve them.

If Seokjin hadn’t asked him to attend as a personal favour, Yoongi would be in his home.

Oddly, he’s not been able to look at the Diavollo since you gave your life rather than destroy it.

He wonders if that sort of foolishness is what got you exiled.

He’s thought about your face so much that when he sees you, he’s momentarily stilled.

You’re knelt at the feet of Malvarius, the highest ranking demon of Yeomna’s court, save for Seokjin, and Yoongi himself.

Yoongi watches with revulsion as Malvarius scratches a bloodstained nail along the line of your neck, stopping at the iron collar around your throat.

Malvarius wraps his fist in the chain attached to your collar, tugs.

You fold to the ground in a heap of loose limbs and the sheer drapery he’s dressed you in.

Yoongi finds he still doesn’t care to see your face against the ground.

He approaches the demon, and you.

When you see him, there’s a flicker in your eyes.

‘She’s mine,’ Yoongi says, unceremoniously, to Malvarius.

Malvarius, the treacherous devil, says smoothly, ‘Pardon me?’

‘I made her a deal,’ Yoongi replies, preternaturally calm. ‘She owes me.’

Malvarius sits up, and Yoongi realises there’s a crowd gathering.

It doesn’t take much to have demons baying for blood.

Malvarius draws himself up to his full height.

‘Do you mean to say, Yoongi, that you own the soul of Azariel’s only daughter?’

Yoongi blinks.

Azariel, the most revered of the archangels, is a name that strikes fear even in the hearts of the most seasoned of demon princes.

You’re Azariel’s daughter? 

Yoongi remembers the way you cried over the Diavollo as you walked to your death.

You’d not used your father’s name as a bargaining chip. 

Yoongi says, coolly, ‘One fallen angel is just like any other.’

‘She’s a lusty slut,’ Malvarius remarks. ‘Can’t stop opening your legs for me, can you, angel?’

You gasp in pain as he pulls up on the chain, making you dance on your toes to keep from being choked.

Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for the sight of you in pain, either.

‘Give me what’s mine,’ he says, bored. ‘Or we can ask Yeomna to mediate.’

At the mention of the lord of Hell, Malvarius scowls. The last time he clashed with Seokjin, Yoongi had come very close to removing his power, Yeomna’s rules be damned.

He tosses the chain on the stone floor with a clang.

‘To your new master,’ he says, with little grace.

Yoongi removes the collar from around your neck.

‘Follow me,’ he commands.

Yoongi leads you through the debauchery, ignoring your gasps and sobbing breaths as you step through blood, entrails, sex. 

It’s only when you’ve followed him all the way back to his door that he speaks to you.

‘I’m deciding what to do with you,’ he tells you. ‘You will stay here, whilst I decide.’

‘My father won’t engage in barter for me,’ you say immediately. ‘He’d as soon as I was dead as alive.’

‘You must have done something terrible, angel.’ 

Your mouth clamps shut, lips flattening into a straight line.

‘Did you kill?’ Yoongi asks. ‘Maim?’

You barely react to his taunting tone.

‘Were you envious? Greedy?’

You’re quiet.

‘You’re not wrathful,’ Yoongi observes. 

He waits until your eyes meet his.

‘That leaves pride, and lust?’

From the way your face tightens he knows he’s stumbled upon his answer.

Yoongi lets his eyes travel to your beautiful form in the sheer silk you’re draped in.

Your breasts press against the material, rounded, enticing, and as he looks, your nipples tighten visibly.

‘Ah,’ Yoongi says, voice dropped to barely a whisper. ‘He said you were lustful.’

Yoongi leans down, close to your cheek, and enjoys the way you shiver as he breathes on your skin.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your skin, and your pupils dilate so much your eyes are practically black.

Your lips part on his name, and Yoongi, for the first time in a long while, feels a surge of lust.

You stay completely still as he touches your cheek.

‘What do you want from me, angel?’ Yoongi taunts. ‘Aren’t you fallen enough?’

Your breath trembles in your chest as his fingers tighten on your face.

‘Come,’ says Yoongi. ‘Show me how you fell.’

He lets go of your face to caress the swells of your breasts, and you gasp, but you don’t stop him.

Instead, you arch your back to press your breasts into his palms.

‘You want more?’ Yoongi asks. He knows you do.

He grasps the front of your gown, rips it all the way down.

Your thighs tighten on his hand as he reaches between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand explores you, leisurely, slow, until you’re twitching and trembling.

Your nipples are so sensitive now that when Yoongi rolls his tongue around one you buck your hips into his hand.

‘Uhngh,’ you moan. 

Yoongi thumbs the bud at the top of your sex, and your warmth pulses around his fingers.

Wet, hot, tight.

Yoongi drags his tongue along the round of your breast, and your breathing hitches.

Your nipples are so puffy and erect they almost look painful.

You whine as he grasps your rounded flesh. The sound causes a stirring, low in his belly.

Yoongi’s cock swells at the sounds you make. You’re so pleasured, breathless, and he’s barely making any effort.

He’s already almost fully erect when your soft hand brushes the front of his groin.

‘Bold for an angel,’ he says.

There’s a spark in your eyes, clouded with lust. 

‘How many angels have you defiled, Lord Min?’

Yoongi considers your question as his eyes roam your beautiful body.

‘None,’ he tells you.

You smile, and you’re so pretty he can’t take his eyes off you.

‘Luckily, I’m not an angel any more.’

Yoongi smirks. ‘Let me show you how the other side lives.’

He turns, and you follow.

***

You’re lost, Yoongi isn’t sure when it happened, probably between your fourth, maybe fifth peak.

He’s covered in your arousal, he can taste you on his lips, on his tongue. His cock’s still so rigid inside you he’s aching, caught in the delirium between pleasure and pain.

He plunges into your wet warmth, rocking his hips against yours.

Your arms are limp, one draped around his neck, just barely holding on, the other splayed out, fingers uncurled. You look dazed, fucked out, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You cry out as Yoongi moves, dragging his cock against the walls of your cunt, and he notes with grim satisfaction how hoarse your voice now is.

‘Yoongi,’ you beg, ‘wanna feel you.’

‘You’ll feel me,’ he promises.

You shake your head. ‘I want to feel your pleasure.’

Yoongi groans as you hold your legs apart for him, letting him see exactly how he cleaves you apart , the way he looks entering your core.

He wraps a hand around your neck, tight, and your eyes close. Your hand snakes around his wrist, urging him on.

You’re clenching around him so sweetly Yoongi’s disarmed, and when you press a kiss to his temple he releases, shouting your name, spilling inside you.

Belatedly, he remembers to loosen his grip around your neck, and as you remain still he feels an unnerving wave of fear that he might have hurt you.

He says your name, and you stir. Relief floods through his chest. 

‘Stay,’ you mumble into his chest. ‘Stay.’

Yoongi curls his arm around you, a display of skinship he’s unused to but that you seem to want.

He wonders, curious, why he’s swayed to want to give you what you want.

***

You wake during the night. 

Yoongi’s flat on his back, arm propping up his head. He watches with dark amusement as you look your fill at his naked form. 

‘You’re too wide-eyed considering you have my seed all over you,’ he drawls. 

You blink at him. ‘I was surprised to wake, my lord.’

‘You thought I’d kill Azariel’s fallen daughter?’ Yoongi muses, not bothering to acknowledge how close to the truth you are. 

‘You do have a reputation, Lord Min,’ you say, so seriously that it takes him a moment to realise you’re teasing him. 

He’s startled into laughter that sounds rusty even to him. 

You turn over, breasts spilling onto the silk bedcovers, lush and beautiful like you were made to tempt him. 

His cock stirs, and it doesn’t escape your notice, minx that you are. 

You reach for him, gentle, soft against his hardness. 

Yoongi groans, eyes never leaving you as you stroke him. Your lips part on a breath, tongue flicking between. The cavern of your mouth feels like the heaven Yoongi will never know. 

He’s never rued being born a demon prince until this moment. 

Yoongi pulls you off his rigid shaft, seeks the warmth between your legs. You’re already gasping, spreading to take him, so soft and slick and willing he can barely hold himself back. 

His hand finds its way around your neck again, squeezing, and the pleasure ramps up a thousandfold. 

Your back arches as you peak, and this time Yoongi doesn’t have the patience to deny himself. He groans into your hair as he fills you, remembers to loosen his grip. 

You’re emboldened to press a kiss to his lips, a moment of contact so searing Yoongi’s jolted out of his post-pleasure daze. 

Neither of you speak, and neither of you makes a move to leave. 

***

It’s just past dawn when Yoongi stirs to the back of your entirely naked body. 

You’re getting re-dressed, helping yourself to his clothes. 

‘I should go,’ you say. 

Yoongi hadn’t realised you’d noticed he was awake. 

Pandemonium has passed, but Yoongi finds he doesn’t care for any possibility that you might get hurt. 

He rises, unclasps a chain from around his neck, fastens it around your own. The ancient rune now hanging between your collarbones is distinctly, identifiably, his. 

There aren’t many who would seek his wrath. 

‘My father will —--’ 

‘Rue the day he let you fall into the hands of a demon prince?’ suggests Yoongi. 

The hint of a smile plays around your lips, and Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away. 

‘I’ll be back,’ you say. There's a faint question in your voice.

‘See that you are,’ Yoongi replies. 

You bow slightly. ‘My lord.’ 

You take your leave, and Yoongi allows himself to watch you go until you slip between two buildings, and then you’re gone. 

©hamsterclaw 2023

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Friendcation (m) | myg | one

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

Chapter summary: As exhaustion and stress threaten to consume you and your friends at work, Yoongi comes to the rescue with an enticing proposal: a collective vacation—a friendcation. Amid the backdrop of breathtaking landscapes and shared adventures, your feelings for him only deepens more. Yet, his lingering gaze holds secrets you can't ignore, leaving you to wonder if it conceals something deeper—an unspoken connection that may forever alter your friendship.!

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Genre/AU: best friends to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings/tags: bad crack/humor, longing and unrequited(?) feelings, accident involving a bra, exposure of breasts (through a shirt), ‘friendzone’, talk about past sexual encounters, vulgar language, a very lame game of ‘never have I ever’.

Status: completed!

Word count: 11,9K

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @massivelyfullenthusiast

Author’s note: This story takes place in South Korea — and I’ve never been there or to any of the places mentioned in this obviously. If something related to the locations, travel times and such, doesn’t make sense, that’s why. It’s fiction so I hope I can get away with that 🤭 Also, if you like it please let me know.

It's been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

The air hummed with anticipation as the clock struck five on a balmy Friday evening, signaling the end of another grueling workweek. The city was alive with the promise of the weekend, and you could practically taste the freedom in the air. 

Your heart quickened with excitement as you left the office behind, knowing that the world was now your oyster. With the sun casting a warm, golden glow over the bustling streets, you rendezvoused with your closest friends, as you always did when the weekend beckoned. Laughter and camaraderie were your constant companions, and tonight was no exception.

As the night unfolded, you found yourselves in a new bar that had recently emerged as the hidden gem of the city’s nightlife. It exuded an inviting aura, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. With plush leather booths that cradled you in comfort and a softly lit ambiance that created an air of mystery, this place was different, and you could sense it.

Seated in a spacious booth with enough room for all eight of you, you felt the buzz of excitement ripple through your group. 

You take charge, ordering a round of beers for everyone, a familiar role you’ve come to embrace as the only woman in the group. The bartender nods with a knowing smile, having seen this ritual play out countless times before. 

With practiced ease, you slide the cold bottles onto a tray and carry them over to the waiting table, the anticipation of the first sip palpable in the air.

As you distribute the drinks, your friends don’t hesitate to lend a hand, their camaraderie a testament to the strong bond that holds your group together. 

Each bottle clinks against the table, a chorus of celebration for the weekend ahead. The men around you, usually boisterous and full of banter, fall into a brief, contemplative silence, their eyes fixed on the frothy brews before them. 

For a fleeting moment, the world outside fades away, and you all savor the taste of the golden elixir. It’s not just about the beer; it’s about the shared moments, the stories, and the unspoken understanding that binds you all together. The dim glow of the bar’s ambient lighting casts a warm, comforting veil over your group, cocooning you in a world where time seems to stand still. 

As you shared stories and caught up on each other’s lives, the bonds of friendship grew even stronger.

Seokjin, with a twinkle in his eye, leaned in and shared exciting news—he and his girlfriend were taking a leap of faith and moving in together. His face radiated happiness, and you couldn’t help but share in his joy, toasting to the beginning of this new chapter in his life.

Namjoon, nursing his beer, let out a weary sigh as he recounted the daily grind of his office job. The weariness etched into his features spoke volumes about his longing for change and adventure, and you empathized with his desire for something more.

Jungkook, the youngest of your group, excitedly shares his latest venture, a brand-new modeling gig that demands he showcase his sculpted physique. With each word, he vividly describes the sensation of being in front of the camera, the sensation of the studio lights warming his skin, and the countless hours he’s dedicated to chiseling his abs in the gym, transforming his body into a work of art.

Hoseok, the sunbeam of the group, exuded infectious enthusiasm as he described his teaching job, imparting the joy of dance to a classroom full of eager, smiling children. His laughter filled the air, warming the hearts of everyone at the table. You couldn’t help but admire his passion and the positive impact he had on those young minds.

Amidst the lively chatter, Taehyung leaned forward, his eyes lighting up as he shared his new passion for photography. He excitedly talked about the growing number of followers on his Instagram, each click of the shutter capturing a piece of his soul. The way he described his creative journey made it clear that this was more than a hobby—it was his escape, his sanctuary.

Jimin, on the other hand, slouched slightly in his seat, his eyes betraying the weight of his graphic design job. His once-bright spirit seemed overshadowed by the relentless stress that gnawed at him daily. He opened up about the overwhelming workload, the tight deadlines, and how the constant pressure was taking a toll on his well-being. You couldn’t help but empathize, for you too were trapped in a similar cycle.

You glanced at your own reflection in the condensation-covered beer bottle, a sigh escaping your lips. The walls of the corporate marketing world were closing in on you, suffocating your creativity, and overwhelming you with stress. Burnout was creeping closer, and you knew you needed a well-deserved break to reclaim your sanity.

Amidst the collective sighs and groans about the perils of office life, there was Yoongi, the mechanic. He leaned back, his expression content, almost defiant. While the rest of you complained, he cherished every moment in his garage, grease-stained hands and all. The smell of engine oil and the clank of metal were his symphony, and his love for his work shone through. The contrast between his satisfaction and your collective frustration was stark, a reminder that there were different paths to happiness.

The dimly lit bar provided a sanctuary for your candid conversation with Jimin. He sighed, his gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of condensation on his beer. The weight of your stressful lives hung heavy in the air, a shared burden you both desperately needed to unload.

“We should really consider taking some time off,” Jimin mused, his voice tinged with a hint of longing as he brought the cold bottle to his lips, his eyes locking with yours. The sincerity in his gaze made it clear that this was more than just casual chatter.

You nodded, a mix of agreement and resignation. “I’d love to, but you know how my boss is. Getting time off is like pulling teeth,” you admitted, deflated by the reality of your job’s demands.

Jimin’s lips curved into a sympathetic smile, his empathy palpable. “I know what you mean,” he said, taking a final swig of his beer, his shoulders slumping. “What would we even do on a break, though?”

With a sigh, you emptied the remnants of your beer, contemplating the questions. “Maybe just Netflix all day?” you suggested with a wistful laugh, the idea of relaxation feeling like a distant dream.

However, before the conversation could lose itself in the realm of impracticality, Yoongi interjected, his words cutting through the haze of doubt. “Or we could all go on a vacation together,” he proposed, his voice surprisingly confident.

The suggestion hung in the air, momentarily shocking you and Jimin into silence. The surrounding chatter among the other men faded, their curious glances turning in your direction. Gasps escaped your lips in unison, and the hushed anticipation in the room was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited your response.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your eyes widening in surprise as Yoongi’s unexpected proposal hung in the air.

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reached for another beer from the middle of the table. “We could take a trip in Holly,” he explained casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Holly, his self-renovated VW camper van, had seen its fair share of adventures, and tonight, it seemed destined for another one.

The idea seemed to catch like wildfire, sparking enthusiasm around the table. Jimin leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with wonder. 

“A camping trip?” he asked, already lost in thought, his excitement palpable.

Jungkook’s face lit up with a wide, boyish grin. “That sounds so fun, hyung!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his eagerness.

Seokjin, normally the voice of reason in your friend group, chimed in with a hint of excitement. “I’d have to check with my girlfriend, but it does sound like a blast,” he admitted, his willingness to consider the idea evident.

Namjoon, the thoughtful thinker, let out a hopeful sigh, “That actually sounds like just what I need,” he said, the weight of his office job still heavy on his mind.

The excitement and anticipation in the room were infectious, as if the mere mention of the camping trip had breathed new life into all of you.

The realization dawned that Yoongi’s beloved camper van, Holly, couldn’t accommodate all of you at once. It was a cozy van, filled with memories of countless journeys, but its space was limited. He had made the dining and back seats in Holly removable and customizable, so the seats could be turned into a bed big enough to fit two people. Then there was the overhead space big enough to fit one (or two every comfortable) person(s). Yoongi’s solution therefore, delivered with a sly smile, was to take turns with your vacations, ensuring that the bond of friendship remained unbroken.

“Let’s divide ourselves into groups of five,” he suggested, as you all huddled together, discussing the logistics. The prospect of close quarters and shared adventures only seemed to add to the excitement. You’d been friends for so many years that the idea of sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with each other brought a sense of comfort rather than discomfort.

“The sleeping arrangement might be a tad tight,” Yoongi acknowledged, “but we’ve faced far worse challenges together.” His words were met with nods of agreement, a testament to the unbreakable bond you all shared.

Jimin, always the planner of the group, chimed in, “We can even set up a tent outside for those who prefer it, under the starry night sky.” The thought of sleeping beneath the open heavens, surrounded by the tranquil sounds of nature, sparked a sense of adventure in all of you.

As the discussion continued, you could feel the anticipation building. The prospect of taking turns with your vacations only made the idea more exciting. 

You imagined the laughter, the late-night talks around a campfire, and the shared experiences that lay ahead. The decision to divide yourselves into smaller groups only added to the sense of adventure, ensuring that each trip would be a unique and intimate experience. The camaraderie among your friends was unshakable, and the thought of spending quality time together, exploring new places, filled you with a sense of anticipation that was truly electrifying.

Each of you had to face the inevitable reality of asking for time off from your demanding jobs, but the mere thought of the adventure awaiting you was worth every ounce of effort. There was an unspoken agreement among you all, a silent pledge to make it work.

Jimin couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear as he contemplated the escape from his stressful work life. His eyes sparkled with dreams of the places you’d explore and the memories you’d create. 

Jungkook, probably the most adventurous of the group, was practically bouncing in his seat, already mentally packing his bags for the journey. His enthusiasm was infectious, reigniting the fervor in everyone else. 

Seokjin approached the situation with a sense of practicality, contemplating the delicate task of convincing his girlfriend to join in on the adventure. Yet, his hopeful tone hinted at his desire to make it work, as he imagined the joy of shared experiences. 

Namjoon had already begun to envision the break as a chance to rejuvenate his weary spirit. His sigh of relief was almost palpable, the idea of escaping the office grind a beacon of hope.

And then there was Yoongi with a heart full of wanderlust. His eyes gleamed with determination, a silent promise that he would do whatever it took to ensure that Holly, his trusted van, would carry them on this journey of a lifetime. 

As Yoongi excused himself to go to the toilet, a charged atmosphere settled around the table. Like moths drawn to a flame, the guys leaned in, their voices hushed, concern etched on their faces. They knew, as well as you did, about the feelings you harbored for Yoongi, feelings you’d kept locked away for so long.

Jungkook couldn’t help but voice his worry. “Are you sure you’re okay with being cramped together in his camper van for so long?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his tone but genuine concern underlying his words. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any signs of hesitation.

You sighed, your gaze drifting toward the empty seat where Yoongi had been moments ago. “I’ll be fine,” you replied, your voice carrying a mixture of determination and trepidation. Deep down, you were already apprehensive, knowing that the close confines of the van could only fuel the feelings you’d tried so hard to suppress.

Memories of past vacations with your friends haunted you. Those trips had been both a blessing and a curse, bringing you closer to Yoongi, yet painfully highlighting the unspoken love you carried for him. It seemed that everyone except Yoongi was aware of your hidden affection.

When you first met Yoongi a decade ago, the memory remains etched in your mind like a vivid painting. Jimin had introduced you two, and from that very moment, you were inexplicably drawn to him. His soulful, dark brown eyes held a certain depth that seemed to see right through you, and his laid-back, carefree attitude enveloped you in a comforting embrace. 

Over the years, you watched as he dated other people, trying to suppress your own growing feelings. You, too, went through your share of relationships, attempting to bury your emotions beneath layers of fleeting connections. 

Yet, no matter how hard you tried, your heart continued to beat with an unrelenting ache for him. Your friendship with Yoongi deepened, and the more you got to know him, the more precious he became. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t bring yourself to confess your feelings, fearing it might jeopardize the beautiful bond you shared.

As time passed, you began to doubt whether he felt the same way about you. It seemed like the universe conspired to keep you apart, never aligning the stars in your favor. But your heart still held onto that glimmer of hope, a tiny flame of longing that refused to be extinguished.

You mustered the courage to approach your boss and request time off from work, your heart pounding with anticipation. 

To your astonishment, your boss, who had been closely monitoring your dedication and the extra hours you’d poured into your job, responded with a broad smile. 

‘Take as much time off as you need,’ he said warmly, his approval a beacon of recognition for your hard work. It felt like a dream, a reward for your dedication that you never thought possible.

Unlike the rest of you, Yoongi held the unique advantage of being his own boss, running his own successful business. The mere mention of vacation didn’t send shivers down his spine as it did for some of your friends who faced the daunting task of navigating office politics and requesting time off. Instead, Yoongi could simply close down his shop without the constraints of corporate bureaucracy, making the prospect of this vacation all the more tantalizing and carefree.

Deep in conversation in another bar, you and Yoongi contemplated the duration of your upcoming journey. As the words flowed between you, you couldn’t help but yearn for an extended break, a chance to escape the relentless grind of everyday life.

With a thoughtful look, you suggested, “What if we make it three months?” 

The idea of such an extended vacation felt like a lifeline, offering not just relaxation but also the opportunity to truly disconnect from the stresses of the world. It was a bold proposition, a leap into the unknown, and the very thought of it filled you with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

Discussions had swirled among the group about the length of the upcoming vacation, and the other guys had mentioned that they could manage to get three to four weeks off work. 

You and Yoongi exchanged a knowing look, understanding that your own schedules were more flexible.In a quiet moment, you leaned in toward Yoongi, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. 

“Maybe we could spend a couple of weeks on our own,” you suggested, the idea of sharing that intimate time with him making your heart race. It was a decision that felt like a secret shared between the two of you, a chance to deepen your connection amidst the adventures that awaited. 

You hope your heart can take it.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung eagerly synced their hectic schedules, determined to kick off the adventure with you and Yoongi on the very first stretch of the trip. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and the prospect of shared moments and laughter with your best friends at the start of the journey filled you with excitement.

As the days ticked by, anticipation grew like a wildfire. You could practically taste the adventure that awaited.

As the final week of work drew to a close, you couldn’t contain your excitement for the impending camping trip with your best friends. 

Your evenings were a whirlwind of activity, filled with carefully selecting and packing canned foods and your favorite snacks, to bundling up your comfy duvet, selecting just the right clothes for the journey, and securing your trusty bike, and the flutter of anticipation that danced in your chest with each passing day. 

It was a week of meticulous preparations and eager anticipation, a countdown to the adventure that awaited.

For the first leg of your journey, you and your friends had collectively chosen Busan as your destination, having found a perfect Park Auto Campground. 

The decision to travel to Busan held a special significance, as it was a place close to Jimin and Jungkook’s hearts—where they had grown up, shared memories, and formed deep connections. 

As you envisioned the adventure that lay ahead, you couldn’t help but feel the excitement building. Busan, with its pristine beaches, bustling markets, and the familiar laughter of friends, promised a week of nostalgia, bonding, and unforgettable experiences. It was more than just a location; it was a place filled with stories and cherished memories, and you couldn’t wait to explore it with Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, reliving their past and creating new memories together.

The long-awaited day of your adventure had finally arrived, and the excitement in the air was palpable. 

With everything meticulously packed, you and Yoongi set off to pick up Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook, who were waiting eagerly, their laughter and chatter a prelude to the journey ahead.

The interior of the van was a testament to Yoongi’s craftsmanship, the extra seats he had skillfully fashioned providing a comfortable and cozy space for your friends. 

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook settled in, their faces radiating anticipation as they found their spots amidst the camping gear and provisions. As you and Yoongi took your places in the front seats, a sense of togetherness washed over you. The engine roared to life, and the open road beckoned, promising a cascade of adventures and memories waiting to be made.

Together, you embarked on the journey to Busan, the road stretching out before you like an uncharted path of adventure. The drive was a symphony of laughter and camaraderie, the hours from Seoul to Busan passing in the blink of an eye amidst shared tales and uproarious laughter.

As you journeyed down the familiar highway, memories of your enduring friendship came flooding back, like cherished chapters from a well-worn book. Stories of your youth, of misadventures and inside jokes, wove a tapestry of nostalgia, each anecdote igniting fresh bursts of laughter and heartfelt smiles. 

The highway seemed like a time machine, propelling you into the past while carrying you toward the future. The miles melted away, but the bonds of friendship grew stronger, each passing mile a testament to the enduring connection you all shared.

After a journey filled with laughter and anticipation, you reached your destination: a Park Auto Campground next to the Nakdonggang River. The site greeted you with open arms, its serene beauty stretching out before your eager eyes as if welcoming old friends.

As you scoured the area from the van, Yoongi expertly maneuvered Holly to find the perfect parking spot. The soft hum of the engine came to a halt, and the atmosphere was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of a nearby river. With Holly now parked in its serene haven, a collective sigh of contentment escaped your lips. 

The camping site held the promise of adventure and tranquility, a canvas upon which you would paint memories to last a lifetime.

The rhythmic clatter of camping gear being unpacked and the rustling of fabric filled the serene surroundings. With a sense of unity, you and Yoongi expertly set up the camper van, unfurling the marquee with practiced precision. 

Nearby, Jungkook and Taehyung worked in tandem, constructing their cozy tent under the sheltering canopy of trees. The spirit of teamwork and shared adventure was palpable, as each of you played a vital role in creating your temporary home. Yoongi and Jimin would convert the seats into a makeshift bed, ensuring their comfort for the night. Meanwhile, you would sleep in the top bunk overhead in Holly, a cozy vantage point that promised a night under the stars.

With everything set up and the campsite now a cozy haven, you and your friends gathered together, sitting in a circle amidst the rustic charm of your surroundings. The sun bathed you all in a warm, golden glow as you indulged in light snacks, the tantalizing aroma mingling with the sounds of shared laughter and conversations.

The relentless heat outside compelled you to make a bold wardrobe choice. 

You opted for a bikini, the cool fabric hugging your skin like a second, refreshing layer. Over it, you threw on an oversized, crisp white shirt that billowed gently in the warm breeze, and paired it with comfy shorts. The combination was a blend of comfort and casual chic, perfect for the scorching day ahead. 

While the guys collectively opted for a moment of relaxation, sinking into their seats to unwind, you felt a different kind of energy coursing through you. The allure of the campsite beckoned, and you couldn’t resist the call of adventure. 

As you ventured along the Riverside, the world seemed to slow down, and the beauty of nature unfolded before you.

The River stretched out before you, its cool, glistening waters an irresistible contrast to the relentless, sweltering heat of the day. 

You were well aware that the River wasn’t intended for swimming, yet the allure of the refreshing waters beckoned irresistibly. As beads of sweat formed on your brow, you couldn’t help but contemplate the idea of a quick dip. 

The prospect of the water caressing your skin, offering a brief respite from the scorching sun, seemed like a tantalizing temptation. A moment of hesitation hung in the air, your internal debate reflecting the eternal struggle between caution and the sheer joy of spontaneity. 

Would it really hurt to take a short plunge? 

With a sense of urgency, you hastily shed your shirt and shorts, driven by the need to escape the uncomfortable embrace of your clinging clothing. The scorching sun had left you longing for a moment of relief, and the thought of your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your body after your dip was unbearable.

As you wade into the River, the shock of its icy embrace sends shivers down your spine, an invigorating jolt that instantly cools your overheated body. 

The water’s chill becomes a welcome refuge from the relentless heat. As you ventured further into the refreshing waters, the sun’s warm caress on your skin, you reveled in the cool embrace of the River. The serenity of the moment was interrupted by an unexpected surge, a hidden current that wrapped around you with a sudden, forceful grip.

In an instant, the playful tug of the stream unraveled the delicate string of your bikini bra, causing it to slip from your body and disappear downstream. 

Panic surged through you, and you reached out desperately, fingers grasping at the elusive fabric, but it slipped through your trembling hands like a fleeting dream.

With your heart pounding and cheeks flushed, you instinctively covered your exposed breasts with one hand, the other waving frantically as you called out for Jimin, your voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Desperation welled up inside you as you stood in the River, your voice carrying your distress with a pleading intensity. 

“Jimin!” you called out, the sound of his name echoing across the water. 

Each syllable was laced with a raw sense of urgency, as if your very survival depended on him hearing and responding to your plea.

Thankfully, Jimin’s sharp ears didn’t fail him. As he sat leisurely, engrossed in the pages of a book, the distant sound of your frantic yell cut through the tranquility of the campsite like a thunderclap.

His head snapped up, eyes widening in alarm as he quickly scanned the surroundings. The book slipped from his grasp, forgotten, as his instincts kicked into high gear. He’d heard your distress call, and without a moment’s hesitation, he was on his feet, ready to sprint towards the source of your urgency.

Jimin strolled briskly toward the Riverside, his curiosity piqued by your urgent call. 

As his eyes landed on your shivering form, it didn’t take him long to grasp the comical situation you’d found yourself in—a situation he’d shared with you once before. 

With a knowing grin, he couldn’t suppress a chuckle, the sound bubbling up from deep within him. His laughter, filled with camaraderie rather than mockery, drew the attention of your friends, who turned their heads to see what had captured Jimin’s amusement. 

There you stood, half-exposed, a mix of embarrassment and amusement dancing across your face as Jimin’s laughter rang out.

Expletives rang in your mind as you realized the collective gaze of your friends and even nearby campers had zeroed in on your predicament. 

The disapproving glares from unfamiliar faces added another layer of discomfort to your already embarrassing situation. 

Great, just great!

You couldn’t help but hiss at your friends, their raucous laughter ringing in your ears like a chorus of mockery. It was as if the universe had conspired to turn this innocent mishap into a spectacle, and you were at the center of it all. 

The heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks, but your determination to salvage your dignity burned even hotter.

Jimin couldn’t contain his laughter as he turned to Yoongi, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Hyung, can you be our hero and help her?” he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

Yoongi let out an exaggerated groan, his reluctance comically evident. Yet, he couldn’t resist the camaraderie of the moment and rose from his seat with a theatrical sigh.

With determined strides, Yoongi made his way over to you in the River, his expression a mix of feigned annoyance and genuine concern. His willingness to help spoke volumes about the unwavering bonds of friendship that bound your group together, even in the most amusing of circumstances.

Jimin couldn’t contain his amusement as he descended from the Riverside, his giggles echoing through the campsite like a contagious melody. His laughter was an infectious blend of mirth and camaraderie, a testament to the enduring bonds of your friendship that could turn even the most embarrassing situations into moments of shared joy.

As Yoongi approached, his gaze landed on you standing in the River, hands firmly over your chest. His voice, tinged with a hint of weariness from his earlier relaxation, held genuine concern as he inquired, “What happened?”

You sighed, your voice tinged with both relief and lingering embarrassment.

“... My bra fell off,” you admitted, your gaze sweeping the river’s surface in search of the missing garment. As you scanned the water, your heart skipped a beat with both trepidation and a glimmer of hope.

Luck was on your side, as you finally spotted your bra, ensnared in the river’s embrace, just a short distance from Yoongi. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude and amusement as you pointed in his direction, your tone playful yet appreciative. 

“It’s over there,” you called out.

He hummed thoughtfully, taking cautious steps closer to the elusive piece of clothing. As his fingers extended, a gentle breeze teased at the fabric, causing it to flutter away like a playful phantom. 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, a vivid blush warming your skin.

Yet, despite the mortification, a sense of relief washed over you as your oversized shirt remained firmly on the grass in the Riverside, preserving your modesty. 

A grateful smile tugged at your lips as you acknowledged Yoongi’s well-intentioned attempt. “Thanks for trying, Yoon,” you murmured, your voice laced with appreciation and a touch of amusement. 

“So, are you coming out or what?” Yoongi called out, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and playful impatience as he waited for you. With a laugh in your voice, you responded with a confident ‘yes,’ your words echoing across the tranquil waters. 

You moved through the water with deliberate grace, a sense of vulnerability washing over you as you became mindful of your exposed form. Your arms instinctively crossed over your breasts, each ripple in the water causing a flutter of anxiety.

With slow and deliberate movements, you located your discarded shirt and shorts amidst the rocky shoreline. As you wanted to dress, you called out to Yoongi, your voice soft but firm, “Turn around, don’t look.” 

You could feel the warmth of a blush rising in your cheeks, and the weight of his gaze on your skin only added to the intensity of the moment.

He obeyed your request without hesitation, the soft shuffle of his feet marking his compliance as he turned away, facing his back to you. The rustling of leaves in the nearby trees and the distant murmur of the River filled the silence, creating a cocoon of privacy around the two of you. 

The air seemed charged with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of the unspoken connection between you both in that intimate moment.

You reached for your shirt, the damp fabric clinging to your skin and offering a brief challenge as you pulled it over your glistening body. Each movement was a tactile reminder of the refreshing dip you’d taken, your skin alive with the sensations of the River’s cool embrace. 

Next, your fingers fumbled for your shorts, a playful dance with the wet fabric that seemed to take a lifetime. As you finally completed your quick change, a surge of excitement bubbled up inside you, making your voice tremble with anticipation.

With a smile that you couldn’t suppress, you called out to Yoongi, “You can turn around now.” 

The air seemed charged with a newfound energy, and the world felt alive with the promise of adventure and connection.

“Nice tits.” 

Yoongi’s mischievous comment hung in the air, punctuated by a chuckle that echoed with playful admiration. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, turning them beet red as you instinctively glanced down your body, realizing with a sinking feeling that your white shirt had become transparent when it clung to your soaking body. 

Panic surged through you.

In a hurry, you covered your breasts with your hands, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Your heart raced, and your body felt hot, a combination of embarrassment and an unexpected wave of arousal coursing through you.

Why the fuck is he still looking? 

You thought with a mixture of irritation and intrigue. His gaze bore into you with a lazy smirk, and your skin prickled with a blend of vulnerability and desire.

“Stop looking,” you hissed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and frustration. The tension between you was palpable, an unspoken connection simmering beneath the surface as the world around you faded into the background.

In an angry, trembling tone, you hissed at him, “And don’t you dare say a fucking word!” 

Your hands remained firmly pressed against your breasts, your skin still tingling from the electric encounter. 

With a mix of indignation and vulnerability, you turned on your heel and hurriedly retreated, the path back to the van stretching out before you, each step echoing the tumultuous feelings churning inside. 

You retraced your steps in stifling silence, the tension between you and Yoongi lingering in the air like an unspoken secret. Each footfall felt heavy, the weight of your thoughts bearing down on you, and the campsite that had once been a sanctuary of laughter and camaraderie now seemed like a maze of conflicting emotions.

Uncomfortable and flustered, your mind raced with a tempest of questions. He had complimented you, and it sent your thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of uncertainty. 

Had he looked before? Were there hidden desires beneath his playful remark?

The stories your mind conjured were like a tumultuous storm, each thought a lightning bolt of doubt. You had to remind yourself, sternly, that Yoongi was a friend, nothing more. But the realization didn’t dispel the tension that had woven itself between you, leaving you with a sense of unease that clung to your every step.

As you finally reached Holly, a cacophony of laughter greeted you. 

Jimin’s infectious laughter rang out like a joyful melody, echoing through the campsite. With an amused glint in his eye, he couldn’t contain his mirth as he pointed at your drenched figure, a teasing grin splitting his face.

Beside him, Jungkook and Taehyung had their faces buried in their phones, their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. The campsite had transformed into a stage of amusement, the camaraderie and playful banter among friends radiating with warmth.

Through gritted teeth, you hissed at Jimin, your frustration palpable in your tone. 

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh!” 

The words carried the weight of your embarrassment and irritation, the intensity of the moment etched on your face as you shot him a withering glare. With a frustrated sigh, you attempted to regain your composure, even as your cheeks burned with lingering embarrassment. 

Yoongi eased himself into a vacant chair, its worn surface embracing him with a sigh as he leaned back.

“Why? It’s not even the first time!” 

Jimin’s laughter erupted like an uncontrollable storm, his entire body shaking with mirth. The intensity of his amusement grated on your nerves, and you could feel a simmering fury building within you. The sound of his laughter seemed to echo endlessly, reverberating through the campsite and setting your teeth on edge. 

It was as if he was oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling within you, and his amusement only added fuel to the fire of your frustration.

Jungkook and Taehyung both lifted their heads from their phones, their curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, ‘not even the first time’?” Jungkook inquired, his eyes gleaming with interest.

Hushing your voice, you groaned loudly, the frustration evident in your tone. 

“Don’t tell them!” 

The words spilled from your lips with an urgency that bordered on desperation, and you shot Jimin a pleading look, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t let the secret slip. The air was thick with anticipation as the weight of your unshared secret hung in the balance.

He continued to laugh, his amusement contagious, and then leaned in closer to Jungkook and Taehyung, his voice lowering with a conspiratorial tone. 

“She lost her bra once when we were at a waterpark,” he giggled, the memory vivid and alive in his mind. As he recounted the tale, his eyes sparkled with mischief, and the campsite seemed to hold its collective breath, caught between the urge to burst into laughter and the anticipation of the full story.

Fuck.

Why did he have to tell them? 

The question reverberated within you like an unyielding echo. Although he hadn’t shared the whole story, a sense of exasperation washed over you, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. 

The campsite felt like a stage, and your emotions played out in silent turmoil as you grappled with the mix of embarrassment and annoyance. The memory had been a skeleton in your closet, and its unveiling, even in part, left you grappling with the desire to laugh it off and the lingering traces of annoyance that clung to you like a shadow.

“It happened when we were on a waterslide, and it just flew off!” 

Jimin continued to chuckle, his laughter resonating with your clear discomfort. The memory seemed to amuse him endlessly, and each guffaw only deepened your irritation.

With an exasperated sigh, you dramatically plopped down on a chair next to Yoongi, your grumpiness palpable in the way you crossed your arms and shot Jimin a pointed glare. 

The campsite was filled with the lingering echoes of laughter, but your mood remained as stormy as the clouds gathering on the horizon.

Jungkook and Taehyung exchanged knowing glances and erupted into contagious giggles, their eyes brimming with amusement. Their laughter seemed to dance in the air, and as they stole glances at you, their expressions shifted to ones of pity. 

“And you did absolutely nothing to help, some friend you are,” you retorted, your words dripping with spite and frustration. The sharpness of your tone cut through the lingering laughter, drawing a hushed silence over the campsite. 

The tension between you and Jimin hung in the air like a charged current, a stark reminder of the complexities that defined your friendship.

You made a brisk dash to retrieve fresh, clean clothes, the anticipation of changing into something dry and comfortable fueling your steps. 

The restrooms beckoned, promising a refuge from the lingering awkwardness. As you entered the private haven of the restroom, a wave of relief washed over you, and you couldn’t wait to shed the wet attire that clung to your skin.

As you returned, the flickering glow of a campfire had transformed the campsite into a warm and inviting haven. The crackling flames danced in the night, casting playful shadows that danced across your faces. 

The aroma of a delicious meal sizzling over the open flames filled the air, tantalizing your senses.

Amidst the camaraderie of your friends, you joined in the culinary adventure, the flavors of the meal mingling with laughter and lively conversation. 

The clinking of beer bottles punctuated the night, each sip a toast to the simple joys of friendship and the adventure that lay ahead.

Amid the warm glow of the campfire and the laughter of your friends, you couldn’t help but notice Yoongi’s gaze. 

His eyes, like twin embers in the firelight, lingered on your face a fraction longer than usual. It was a subtle shift that sent a ripple of uncertainty through you, leaving you to ponder its meaning in the midst of the lively gathering.

Questions swirled in your mind like sparks in the night. 

Was it a moment of connection or something more? 

The ambiguity hung in the air, adding an undercurrent of intrigue to the already memorable night.

That night, as the campfire’s last embers flickered out, you found yourself tossing and turning in your duvet, unable to find the solace of sleep. Thoughts of Yoongi swirled through your mind like a restless tempest, his lingering gaze haunting your thoughts.

Beneath the canopy of stars, you were consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. 

Excitement for the adventure clashed with the uncertainty of unspoken feelings, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this trip would be the crucible that tested your friendship’s boundaries. In the silent darkness, the future lay uncertain, and the weight of anticipation kept you awake, pondering the enigma that was Yoongi.

The morning sun bathed the campsite in a gentle glow, promising a new day of adventure. 

With your river escapade now behind you, you decided to venture into the nearby city with Jimin. The city’s vibrant energy and bustling streets held the promise of a new, exciting experience.

As you entered a quaint boutique, the colorful array of bikinis dazzled your senses. Jimin, with his impeccable taste, became your trusted fashion advisor. Together, you sifted through the options, his playful commentary and infectious laughter adding a layer of camaraderie to the shopping spree.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he picked out a bikini top that he insisted would not only look fantastic on you but also capture the attention of a certain dark haired man named Yoongi. 

Jimin’s playful commentary continued as he held up the chosen bikini top, his eyes dancing with mischief. 

“This one really accentuates your curves and hugs your... assets,” he said, punctuating his statement with a sly wink. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his cheekiness, a mix of exasperation and amusement in your response.

But deep down, his suggestion had struck a chord. 

There was a spark of confidence that came with his endorsement, and in the end, you found yourself reaching for the very bikini top he’d recommended. With a grin and a playful nudge, you couldn’t deny the infectious excitement that Jimin had injected into your shopping excursion.

Later in the day, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the campsite, you and your friends decided to embark on a leisurely fishing expedition by the Riverside. The gentle breeze played with your hair, carrying with it the soothing scent of nature, as you cast your lines into the water.

The atmosphere was serene, punctuated by the occasional plunk of a line hitting the water and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. 

The Riverside flowed lazily beside you, a shimmering ribbon of tranquility that mirrored the camaraderie among your group. Light conversation flowed effortlessly between you all, the laughter and shared stories weaving a tapestry of connection that only deepened with each passing moment.

The following days sped by like a whirlwind of adventure and discovery. 

You and your friends immersed yourselves in the breathtaking beauty of the local nature, each step a new exploration, each vista a captivating masterpiece of nature’s design. 

As you ventured deeper into the wilderness, the serenity of the landscape wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. Majestic mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks kissing the sky. Pristine lakes sparkled like gems under the sun’s tender caress, and the lush forests whispered secrets as you wandered through their verdant embrace. 

Tourist attractions revealed the rich tapestry of the region’s culture and history, each site a new chapter in your journey. 

During your stay, one day brought the special opportunity to visit Jungkook’s family. 

The anticipation of the visit filled the air as you arrived at his childhood home. The comforting aroma of home-cooked meals wafted from the kitchen, welcoming you with open arms. Around a welcoming dinner table, you all shared delightful conversations with Jungkook’s parents and his older brother. Their smiles were as warm as their hospitality, and the stories they shared about Jungkook’s mischievous childhood added a layer of endearment to your friend.

As plates were passed, laughter echoed through the cozy living room, and the bonds of friendship extended to embrace the family who had nurtured Jungkook. It was a moment of shared intimacy, where the past and present converged in a harmonious celebration of friendship and home.

On another beautiful day of your trip, the anticipation of visiting Jimin’s family filled the air with excitement. 

You were welcomed into their home with open arms, the comforting scent of a home-cooked dinner beckoning you inside. Seated around a dining table adorned with love and care, you shared heartfelt conversations with Jimin’s parents and his younger brother. 

Their warmth and genuine interest in your stories made you feel like an extended member of their family. The dinner was a sumptuous feast of flavors, a culinary journey through Jimin’s heritage. As the evening unfolded, laughter and shared memories wove a tapestry of connection, bridging the gap between your friends and Jimin’s beloved family. 

It was a moment of shared intimacy, where the bonds of friendship extended to embrace the people who had shaped Jimin’s life.

Excitement bubbled within you as you made the collective decision to journey onward to the next campsite, nestled near the picturesque Songdo Bay Station and its inviting beach. 

The prospect of a fresh landscape and new adventures beckoned like a siren’s call, promising breathtaking vistas and unforgettable moments waiting to be discovered.

As you began setting up Holly once more at the new campsite, an amusing discussion arose. Jimin, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, announced his intention to sleep in the tent this time. “You snore like a freight train,” he teased, a playful grin dancing on his lips.

Yoongi, ever the easygoing one, didn’t seem to mind, and Taehyung chimed in with his usual enthusiasm. 

“I’ll gladly switch with Jimin then,” he declared, a wide smile brightening his face.

With excitement bubbling in your hearts, you made your way to the enchanting Songdo Bay Station, eager to experience the cable cars that awaited you. 

As you all huddled into the cable car together, anticipation filled the air. The ascent was a slow and steady journey, carrying you higher and higher above the city and the glistening expanse of the ocean. The view that unfolded before your eyes was nothing short of mesmerizing. The cityscape sprawled beneath you, a tapestry of lights and life, while the vast ocean stretched out to the horizon, its waters shimmering in the golden embrace of the setting sun.

Silence settled over your group, a shared reverence for the breathtaking panorama that surrounded you. The beauty of the moment transcended words, leaving you all in awe of the world’s majesty. 

It was a memory etched into your hearts, a reminder of the profound magic that could be found in the simplest of journeys.

Once you’d savored every moment of the mesmerizing view from the cable cars, hunger tugged at your stomachs like a friendly reminder of the day’s adventures. Following a recommendation from a friendly local, you ventured to a cozy, hidden gem of a restaurant nearby. 

The restaurant exuded an inviting charm, its wooden beams and rustic decor welcoming you like an old friend. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of local flavors and the hum of lively conversations. 

As you settled into your seats, the menu promised a tantalizing array of dishes, each one a tantalizing adventure waiting to be explored.

Lunch was a symphony of flavors, a fusion of local delicacies that danced on your taste buds. The laughter and discussions of your group mingled with the ambient sounds of the restaurant, creating a harmonious atmosphere of shared joy. With satisfied appetites and hearts warmed by the culinary delights, you bid farewell to the small local restaurant, the memory of the meal and its unique ambiance etched in your collective memory. 

It was yet another chapter in your journey, one filled with the flavors and colors of the region you had come to love.

As you made your way back to the campsite, the sun casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape, the anticipation for tonight’s dinner filled the air with excitement. 

You decided to make a quick stop for grocery shopping, the aisles of the local market brimming with fresh ingredients and culinary possibilities. The aisles were a treasure trove of flavors, their shelves stocked with vibrant fruits, crisp vegetables, and the tantalizing aromas of spices and herbs. Your group moved through the market, selecting ingredients that promised to transform into a delicious campfire feast.

Back at the campsite, you all sank into comfortable positions, surrounded by the gentle embrace of nature. 

The crackling campfire cast a warm, flickering glow that painted playful shadows on your faces. The tranquil symphony of chirping crickets and rustling leaves provided the soundtrack to your evening.

Yoongi, your group’s resident cook and culinary magician, took center stage. With an air of calm expertise, he orchestrated the preparation of tonight’s dinner. The aroma of sizzling ingredients filled the air, tantalizing your senses and stirring a chorus of eager stomachs. 

As you watched Yoongi work his culinary magic, a sense of contentment washed over you all. The shared anticipation for the meal, the warmth of the campfire, and the soothing sounds of nature merged into a harmonious tableau of camaraderie and relaxation. 

It was a moment of serenity and connection, a testament to the simple joys of friendship and the pleasures of a well-cooked meal in the great outdoors.

As you savored every bite of Yoongi’s mouthwatering Korean cooking, a tranquil hush settled over your group. The flavors danced on your taste buds, each dish a symphony of tastes and textures that spoke of culinary mastery. Around the campfire, the shared appreciation for the meal transcended words. The satisfying sounds of utensils against plates and the contented sighs of your friends filled the air. 

After a satisfying dinner that left everyone in high spirits, you fetched some beers to keep the camaraderie alive. The campfire’s glow seemed to flicker with the promise of a lively evening ahead.

As you settled back into your camping chairs, conversation flowed naturally, anecdotes and laughter intermingling in the night air. The soothing rhythm of your friends’ voices was like a comforting melody, echoing in the quiet wilderness. In a lighthearted moment, Taehyung suggested a game of ’Never Have I Ever’. 

Groans of playful protest erupted from most of the group, each member voicing their reluctance except for Jungkook. His eyes sparkled with excitement at the mention of the game, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

In the end, you reluctantly gave in to the idea of playing, and it was mostly due to Taehyung’s persistent enthusiasm. He had a knack for getting his way, especially when it came to sparking moments of laughter and adventure within the group.

Taehyung, with a sly twinkle in his eye, kicked off the game, looking around at your group with a mischievous grin. 

“Never have I ever… kissed a man,” he declared, his choice of statement drawing an intrigued chorus of ‘oohs’ and laughter. 

Jimin couldn’t help but tease, “Gosh, that’s so tame,” earning a playful eyeroll from Taehyung. However, as the game’s first round unfolded, both you and Jimin raised your beers to your lips, a shared acknowledgment of your past adventures.

It was now Jungkook’s turn, and he took a moment to contemplate his statement, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You let out an exaggerated sigh, feeling like you weren’t quite tipsy enough for this game’s antics.

“Never have I ever seen ___’s tits,” Jungkook declared, his statement dripping with a cheeky grin. There was a collective chuckle from the group, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fully aware of how this round would go.

As expected, Jimin, Yoongi, and you raised your beers in acknowledgment. Jungkook’s laughter filled the air, and you couldn’t resist a playful retort. 

“It’s not funny!” you quipped, shooting a mock glare in his direction.

Thankfully, it was now Yoongi’s turn, and you couldn’t help but anticipate that his statement would be just as amusing and lighthearted as the others. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he posed, “Never have I ever had sex while at work,” looking around the circle expectantly.

As his statement hung in the air, there was a moment of suspense before the inevitable. Jimin, with a sly grin, took a casual sip of his beer, and to your surprise, both Taehyung and Jungkook joined in with a shared laugh and a sip of their beer. 

Your surprised sigh was met with laughter from the group, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in playful disbelief.

Now, it was Jimin’s turn, and you couldn’t help but brace yourself for his cheeky statement. “Never have I ever had sexual fantasies about a close friend,” he declared, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His playful wink was directed at you, and you responded with an eye roll that was just as playful.

Jimin’s statement hung in the air, thick with tension and teasing, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to be your wingman in your quest for Yoongi’s affection or simply trying to rile you up for his own amusement.

Everyone in the circle, except Jimin, raised their beers to their lips and took a sip, leaving you utterly flabbergasted. 

The implications of this revelation left your mind swirling with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. 

What did it mean? 

You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Yoongi, hoping to find some clue in his enigmatic gaze. However, as your eyes met his, you realized that they were as inscrutable as ever. His poker face didn’t give away any secrets, leaving you to wonder whether this was merely a playful game or if there was something more beneath the surface. 

It was a moment of both intrigue and hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel a subtle shift in the dynamics of the group, as unspoken emotions lingered in the air.

Jungkook suddenly perked up, his voice laced with intrigue. 

“Jimin hyung, you’re not being honest right now!” 

His statement hung in the air, a spark of curiosity lighting up the group’s expressions as you all turned your gaze between Jimin and Jungkook.

The unexpected twist in the game had injected a new layer of intrigue into the evening. The group’s collective curiosity swirled like a secret shared among friends, and you couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath Jimin’s playfully confident exterior. 

You observed Jimin’s eyes roll and heard an exasperated sigh escape his lips. With a sly yet playful glint in his eyes, Jungkook continued, “Remember when you told me about that dream you had, the one about ___?” His tone was teasing but carried a hint of mischief.

As Jungkook’s words hung in the air, a ripple of knowing glances and shared amusement spread through the group. The expressions on everyone’s faces ranged from mild surprise to knowing smirks, each reacting in their unique way to the revelation.

“What? You had a sexual dream about me?” 

The words burst from your lips in a gasp of surprise, and without thinking, you playfully slapped Jimin’s shoulder, your eyes wide with mock shock.

Jimin’s laughter rang out, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. The entire group joined in, the campfire’s glow dancing in their eyes as they shared in the unexpected revelation. 

“It was just an innocent dream,” he tried to brush it off, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he masked it with a low chuckle.

The group’s playful teasing continued, a delightful blend of laughter and camaraderie. Jimin’s attempt to downplay the dream only fueled the banter, making the moment even more lighthearted and memorable.

Then Jungkook chimed in, his voice carrying an air of mischief. 

“It wasn’t innocent at all! He told me that he wanted to f–” 

Your eyes widened in both surprise and mortification, hanging on the edge of your seat as you awaited the rest of the sentence.

But before Jungkook could spill the rest, Jimin hastily interjected, bringing an abrupt halt to the revelation. 

“It was nothing, okay?” 

Jimin’s voice carried a note of urgency as he sought to downplay the situation. “It happened in the beginning of our friendship. Soon after, I realized it was just misdirected...uh, you know, sexual frustration. We’re besties, I’m not into you like that, I would never,” His words tumbled out in a rushed, rambling attempt to reassure you.

With a pleading look in your eyes, you turned to Jimin and spoke softly, “It’s okay, Jimin. I might have had a sexual fantasy about you too in the early days.” 

The confession slipped out, fueled perhaps by the influence of the beer, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and surprisingly liberated. The group’s reactions were a mix of surprise and amusement, and the campfire’s crackling flames seemed to flicker in response to the newfound tension in the air. 

“I know I’m irresistible,” Jimin playfully swooned in response to your secret, earning himself a playful jab in the ribs from you. 

Jungkook and Taehyung chuckled, the atmosphere light with shared laughter. However, you couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi’s demeanor had shifted.

His usually expressive eyes had gone dark, and a subtle tension hung in the air around him. It was as if your confession had cast a shadow over his mood, leaving you to wonder about the thoughts swirling in his mind.

As the game continued, you found yourself growing tired of its increasingly revealing nature. With a sigh of exasperation, you announced, “I’m going to bed. You can keep playing if you want.” 

Your words carried a hint of weariness as you pushed yourself up from the campfire and headed toward Holly.

The night air was cool against your skin as you retreated inside, leaving the laughter and confessions behind. In the dimly lit interior of the van, you could finally take a moment to reflect on the events of the evening. 

Drifting off into slumber, the laughter of your friends provided a comforting lullaby, wrapping you in a cocoon of cherished moments and the warmth of camaraderie.

As the morning sun filtered through the van’s windows, its gentle warmth kissed your face, coaxing you awake from a restful night’s sleep. With a contented sigh, you descended from your sleeping space and stepped outside, greeted by the sight of your friends gathered around.

“Good morning,” you greeted them with a pleasant stretch, the feeling of relaxation coursing through your body. Their collective response of ‘good morning’ warmed your heart, but you couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that tinged both Yoongi and Taehyung’s cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” 

You couldn’t help but notice the startled exchange of glances between Yoongi and Taehyung. 

Their hesitation hung in the air, sparking your curiosity. Just as Taehyung was about to speak up, Yoongi cut him off with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. 

“You just snore a lot,” he replied, his tone casual but his gaze stern as he shot Taehyung a pointed look.

The atmosphere shifted subtly, leaving you with the feeling that there was more to their exchange than met the eye.

After enjoying a hearty breakfast together, the group prepared to head down to the beach for a day of relaxation, swimming, and—hopefully, avoiding any repeat incidents involving your bra.

As you all changed into your swimwear, you slipped into the new bikini top that Jimin had recommended. The fabric hugged your curves just right, making you feel both confident and comfortable. You couldn’t help but appreciate how his suggestion had turned out so perfectly.

Amidst laughter and chatter, you made your way down to the beach, burdened with towels, parasols, and an absurd amount of sunblock that could rival a sunscreen store.

You scouted out the perfect spot on the beach, carefully arranging your belongings and setting up sunshades to shield yourselves from the relentless sun. The sound of crashing waves and the scent of salt in the air instantly put you in a relaxed, vacation state of mind.

As you all took turns applying sunblock to one another, Jimin’s suggestion added a touch of intimacy to the moment. He proposed that Yoongi assist you by applying sunblock to your hard-to-reach back.

With a soft smile, Yoongi moved closer, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns as he massaged the sunblock into your skin. 

The sensation of his touch sent pleasant shivers and tingles racing down your spine, a subtle yet electrifying connection between friends. His fingers, roughened by years of mechanical work, offered a striking contrast to the tenderness of his touch. Each calloused ridge on his fingertips seemed to carry a story of hard labor and dedication. 

It was a subtle reminder of the many facets that made up Yoongi’s character—strong and rugged, yet capable of such gentleness. As his hands worked diligently to apply the sunblock, you found yourself lost in thought, reflecting on the layers of complexity within your friend. 

The intimacy of this simple act revealed a deeper connection, an unspoken understanding that transcended words and gestures. It was in these moments that you realized just how much you cherished the bond you shared with Yoongi and your group of friends.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip, a soft moan of unexpected pleasure threatening to escape. 

When he finally finished, you managed to find your voice, your words laced with a subtle undercurrent of emotion as you offered a heartfelt thank you.

You settled onto a plush beach towel beneath the cool embrace of a beach umbrella, book in hand. With your stomach against the soft towel and the rhythmic sound of the waves as your soundtrack, you lost yourself in the pages of your chosen book. 

As the words on the pages blurred together, a restlessness stirred within you. The call of the ocean grew irresistible. You closed your book and looked over at your friends, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes.

“Anyone up for a refreshing swim?” Your question hung in the air, a tempting invitation to embrace the cool embrace of the sea. 

Your friends exchanged glances, their laughter and shared history evident in their silent communication. None of them provided a direct answer to your invitation, and as you turned to walk away, a teasing voice broke the silence.

“I’ll join you,” Yoongi’s casual response was laced with a mischievous undertone. 

"Who knows, it might come in handy if you happen to ‘lose’ something again." His words prompted suppressed chuckles from the rest of the group, and you felt a heat rising in your cheeks.

As you and Yoongi ventured deeper into the ocean, the cool embrace of the water enveloped your bodies, creating an immediate sense of exhilaration. The waves danced around you, and the salty breeze carried laughter and shared moments. 

With every stroke, the water seemed to wash away the cares of the world, leaving only the thrill of the present moment. Your laughter echoed over the waves as you swam together, the sun glistening off the surface, and for that brief moment, it was just the two of you, lost in the joy of the sea.

You eagerly snatch a ball, its surface cool and slightly gritty against your fingertips, and dive into the inviting embrace of the ocean’s azure expanse. With each leap and twist, the saltwater splashes around you, the ball becoming an extension of your playful dance with the waves. 

As you spring up from the water, your breasts jiggle, a consequence of the light support of your bra. A subtle shift in Yoongi’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, and you realize his attention has momentarily fixated on your chest.

A subtle blush crept up your cheeks, betraying your surprise and self-awareness, as you sensed his gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and appreciation.

“Hey lovebirds, we are heading back to the campsite, do you wanna come with us?” 

Amused by Jimin’s interruption, you turned your attention from Yoongi’s lingering gaze to your friend on the shoreline. His teasing tone and the ‘lovebirds’ comment sent an additional wave of heat rushing to your cheeks, but you welcomed the distraction.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you shouted back, “Sure thing, Jimin! Just give us a minute to dry off.” 

Jimin’s laughter carried over the water as you and Yoongi shared a brief, knowing glance before swimming back to join your friends, leaving the unspoken tension behind in the sea.

As you all gathered around the campfire to enjoy dinner, the conversation meandered through various topics, including cherished childhood memories. While engaging in the banter and laughter, your mind couldn’t help but circle back to Yoongi’s lingering gaze earlier in the day. 

Was there a hidden depth to his stare? Did he harbor feelings for you as well? 

These questions swirled in your thoughts, a tantalizing mystery you were both drawn to and hesitant to unravel. Inwardly, you cautioned against reading too much into it, aware of the fragile balance within your close-knit group of friends. 

The fear of altering the dynamics that had bound you all together kept your emotions in check, though your heart couldn’t help but hope for something more.

Over the next few days, you immersed yourselves in the vibrant heartbeat of Busan’s city life. 

Each moment was a sensory symphony, from the bustling streets to the enticing aromas that wafted from food stalls and restaurants. You ventured into the colorful markets, where every stall seemed to hold hidden treasures waiting to be discovered.

The city’s culinary delights tantalized your taste buds, from sizzling street food to lavish feasts at quaint eateries tucked away in narrow alleyways. With each bite, you savored not just the flavors but the shared laughter and stories around the table. 

Busan, with its unique blend of modernity and tradition, cast a spell on you all. The city’s enchanting sights, the harmonious rhythm of life, and the genuine warmth of its people made these days unforgettable.

Another day of your adventure led you to the mesmerizing Jeoryeong Coastal Walk, a place where the natural world intertwined with the human spirit. 

As you embarked on the winding path that hugged the rugged coastline, you were greeted by the panoramic expanse of the sea, its waves crashing rhythmically against the rocks.

The salty breeze kissed your cheeks, carrying with it the invigorating scent of the ocean. Seagulls soared overhead, their cries blending seamlessly with the soothing sound of the waves. 

Your footsteps resonated on the wooden boardwalk, a symphony of nature and human exploration. The scenery unfolded in breathtaking beauty, each bend revealing a new masterpiece of cliffs, coves, and pristine beaches. 

The connection to the earth and sea was palpable, reminding you of the immense wonder that existed beyond the confines of daily life. 

As you ventured along the Coastal Walk, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the cliffs accompanied your every step. The path stretched out before you, winding its way along the rugged shoreline. 

In the distance, your friends, Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung, walked ahead, their laughter carried back to you in the salty breeze.

Walking alongside you was Yoongi, the man whose gaze had lingered on you during your coastal walk. 

The camaraderie of your friends was evident as they chatted and shared stories, but the proximity of Yoongi added an extra layer of complexity to your emotions. You stole glances at him, his profile etched against the backdrop of the sea. 

The sunlight played on his features, casting a warm glow that seemed to accentuate his allure. There was a shared silence between the two of you, a conversation unspoken yet deeply understood. In that moment, with the beauty of nature surrounding you and the bonds of friendship strengthening, you couldn’t help but wonder about the uncharted territories of the heart. 

The tranquil beauty of the coastal walk enveloped you both as you walked in tandem, the distant waves creating a soothing backdrop. 

“How do you like the trip so far?” Yoongi’s question cut through the stillness, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the sea.

You paused for a moment, taking in the salty breeze and the way the sun danced on the water’s surface. A faint smile played on your lips as you pondered his question, realizing that the journey held a deeper meaning than just the sights and experiences.

“It’s been incredible,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation. 

“I mean, the places we’ve seen, the memories we’re creating... It’s more than I could have ever imagined.” 

As you spoke, you couldn’t help but glance sideways at Yoongi, catching the warmth in his eyes. In that fleeting moment, you felt a connection that transcended mere friendship. It was a shared understanding, a sense that this journey had the potential to change everything.

Yoongi’s gaze met yours, and a subtle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of sentiment. “It’s been pretty special.”

“It’s been nice seeing the city,” you began, your voice carrying a sense of nostalgia for the urban adventures you’d shared, “but I really look forward to the more rural camping, like in a forest by a tranquil lake or something. To experience the ultimate relaxation, you know?” 

As the words left your lips, you couldn’t contain the excitement in your eyes. The mental image of a secluded forest, the scent of pine trees, and the gentle lapping of water against the shore made your heart race with anticipation. 

Yoongi turned to you, his gaze meeting yours. “I can already picture it,” he admitted, his voice laced with a sense of shared anticipation. 

“Just the sounds of nature, the crackling of a campfire, and the peace that comes with it. It sounds perfect.”

“Hmm, yeah,” you replied, nodding in agreement as you shared Yoongi’s appreciation for nature’s serenity over the bustling city. 

“I also prefer nature over the city. I think next week we’ll head to Hadong. There’s this stunning river surrounded by lush forests and pristine beaches. I’ve heard it’s incredibly beautiful,” Yoongi said, his voice filled with excitement and anticipation.

Yoongi’s comforting smile widened as he looked at you. 

“That sounds like the perfect destination,” you remarked, his eyes lighting up with a hint of adventure. “A serene river, the tranquility of the forest, and the endless beaches—what more could we ask for?” His words conveyed the shared excitement and a growing connection between the two of you, making the upcoming journey feel even more promising.

As you walked alongside Yoongi, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, you found your thoughts drifting to uncharted territories. 

Have his lips always looked so soft and inviting? 

You couldn’t help but wonder, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

The gentle sway of the conversation and the captivating scenery seemed to fade into the background as your mind fixated on this newfound awareness. 

“And you’re fine with just the two of us camping together in a few weeks?” 

As the two of you continued walking, Yoongi’s question hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart race at the thought of the upcoming weeks. His casual inquiry concealed a world of unspoken emotions. 

With a subtle smile playing on your lips, you met his gaze, locking eyes for a brief moment before answering, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply, but your voice carries a hint of hesitation that lingers in the air. 

The uncertainty in your tone reflects the unspoken feelings you’ve been harboring. You wish you could say more, reveal the truth, but the fear of changing the dynamics of your friendship holds you back.

Yoongi offers a gentle smile, his eyes holding a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“We’re best friends,” you continued, your words tinged with a hint of longing that you couldn’t quite conceal. “I love spending time with you.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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