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Mixtape | Four (Finale) | myg (m)
☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader
☾ Summary: You’ve had a crush on Yoongi for most of your life. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years and things go less than according to plan.
☾ Word Count: 12,798
☾ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers/brother’s bff, smut, angst
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
☾ Warnings: Explicit language, implied age gap (three years), anxiety attack depictions, light depictions of self-deprecating thoughts, drinking alcohol, depictions of drinking and being drunk, petty squabbles between women, light depictions of depression and depressive thoughts, angst (not SUPER heavy but it's there) tough conversations with siblings, Jin is kind of mean and not super understanding, time skips, explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, oral (f. receiving), missionary, forced orgasms, doggy, clit stimulation, light mentions of subspace-similar mindset post sex, fluff
☾ Published: May, 2022
☾ A/N: This is an absolute caffeine fueled writing binge. This chapter is not as long as I was expecting it to be - I edited it down a ton because while I was writing the angst, I started to feel like it wasn't true to the story. Our characters are all mostly mature and honestly, I felt like a very very drawn out fight was not the right move. So I re-wrote the scenes, and this is the result. Thank you for all the amazing people who left comments and read this little four part story. I hope that you found as much comfort in the friendships and Yoongi and reader as I did. I have no idea how to let these characters go, which means I will most likely write drabbles and mini stories here and there because I am feral for them. I hope this lives up to everyone's long awaited expectations!
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
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Sweat beads on your neck, making your hair stick to you. The ache in your back and arms from hauling the cooler full of ice out to the porch is significant. Jimin had accidentally put the ice in the cooler before pulling it to the porch, meaning the pair of you had to haul it full of ice.
The entire house has been put to work with Seokjin at the lead, ordering people around with duties to prepare for the final night’s festivities. Despite the cool breeze outside, you’re sweaty an miserable, huffing and puffing by the time the cooler is in place.
“Why is Jin in charge?” you pant, collapsing on one of the lounge chairs on the porch. Jimin wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt, rolling his eyes. “Because he’s the oldest. That’s what he said this morning, anyway.”
“It’s technically your party.”
“Is it, though?”
You grin. Seokjin always takes over for these things and though you poke fun and complain about him a little bit, you were all glad he takes on the pressure of party planning. He always makes sure to give people tasks that are suited to them, and it always makes things organized.
It is the only time Seokjin is organized. You can’t imagine how Yoongi is managing to share a room with your brother. Yoongi is meticulous with his laundry and organization of clothes while Seokjin tends to fold nothing before shoving it in drawers.
Around lunch, Seokjin and Yoongi both come out to the porch to start grilling. Hungry mouths and rumbling stomachs fill the porch as you stand on a ladder, hanging lights that Jimin feeds you.
Though Jimin and Taehyung are now in on your secret, they don’t use the opportunity to poke fun at you or give you secret eyes when Yoongi hands you water. They behave as normal, jostling each other when the food is ready but relenting to let you grab a plate first.
Everyone eats together on the porch. It’s loud but comfortable. You’re between Taehyung and Jungkook - the latter who steals fries from your plate. Glancing around at everyone, you can’t help but feel a pang. You love this group so much and have been through so much together. You hate that it’s your last day, wanting to stretch this time forever.
This time with them is so rare. You look down at your lap, chewing the corner of your lip. Your flight home tomorrow is early in the morning, and though you know you’re going back with good memories with your friends and a promise of something with Yoongi, you dread going home.
Everyone lounges into the early afternoon. No one is eager to finish their tasks and afternoon naps become a disease Seokjin can no longer fight. Ren snaps a picture of Jungkook with his head in your lap, asleep. Taehyung is asleep on Jimin’s shoulder, who is asleep on the arm of the couch.
As the late afternoon creeps closer, everyone starts to shake off sleep and get ready. Yoongi catches you alone a single time as he passes you on the stairs, quick to steal a kiss on the cheek while he carries down wires and electrical strips for the DJ setup for him and Hoseok to take turns manning.
Tossing yourself on the bed, you drift off to sleep, hoping that you can make the last of your night the best.
-
Music pulses from the ridiculously nice DJ setup Yoongi and Hoseok have made themselves. You weave through the living room toward the kitchen, having just come downstairs. There are people already crushed in the living room. Seokjin and Namjoon have carefully rearranged the furniture, pulling pieces into the theater room and locking the door.
Your eyes slide up to where Yoongi and Hoseok are murmuring to one another over the music. Feeling your gaze, Yoongi’s eyes slide over to you. He’s in a loose button-up shirt, top buttons undone at the throat and tucked into his black jeans. His hair is styled back, a single loose lock of blonde hair brushing his brow.
You swallow thickly. He gives you a smug look and waves before you vanish into the kitchen. You spot Wendy out of the corner of your eye as she leans on the counter talking to Ren. You catch her eye for a moment and you smile out of instinct - it waivers immediately when she doesn’t return it.
With something like guilt and anxiety curling in your stomach, you root around the fridge, procuring the seltzers and beers you want. You feel Wendy’s gaze on you as you leave the kitchen and head toward your destination - he’s been your destination all weekend, but you try not to think about it too hard.
The music is louder by the speakers, vibrating your ribcage as you carefully navigate around the cords taped down to the wood flooring. You hand Hoseok a beer and he grins, kissing the top of your head and showering you in praise as you pass the other beer to Yoongi. His fingers brush yours meaningfully.
“Thanks, kid.”
You smile at the nickname and retreat, finding Taehyung at the beer pong table. You’re only there for seconds before Seokjin finds you. “Wanna wipe the floor with these fuckers?” he asks, sipping his beer and looking down at you. “Like old times.”
Your grin is feral. “Like old times,” you agree.
Old times indeed. You and your brother slip into the muscle memory of your college years, working as a tag team to take down everyone else at the table. You’re cocky and you can be - you both have killer aim and when Seokjin sinks one in, elbowing you to hit the same cup before it can be taken away, you do.
Jimin groans again, calling for a committee to ban siblings from the table. Even buzzed, you’re a better shot than he is, sticking your tongue out at him.
Time passes. You’re not sure when Yoongi appears, but he blinks into existence on the other side of Seokjin, cat-eyes watching with muted interest as you work to clear the last of the cups of the pair you’re playing against.
He whistles. “You two were always good at pong. Is there any betting going on?”
Seokjin claps Yoongi on the back, laughing loudly. “No one would take the bet, I’m afraid. Will you fill the space for me? I have to piss.”
Yoongi nods. Seokjin switches spots with him, making a beeline for the stairs. Yoongi is casual as he bounces the ping pong ball in his hand. You’re enchanted as he catches it, rings glinting on his fingers. Across the table, there’s a group trying to figure out who had the next game.
“What are you staring at, kid?”
Yoongi’s dark drawl brings your eyes to his. He’s smirking, eyes amused. He knows what you were staring at, but he loves when you confess to him. Loves to hear you admit it. You know this about him now so you answer, “Your hands.”
“Remembering what they can do to you?”
“Something like that.”
Together, you re-rack the cups. You don’t chat much, but you don’t feel the need to. Yoongi fills the space next to you wonderfully. He’s more accurate than your brother is, years of playing basketball in high school showing in his prowess.
You hate how the smallest things turn you on.
Seokjin rejoins you at some point. Suri is next to him along with Mako, the trio cheering you on as you finish dominating the game. When Yoongi tries to give his space back to Seokjin, you’re surprised when your brother waves him off. He seems content to watch and jeer at others on the side.
You play a few rounds, adding water between your drinks as they begin to stack up. Eventually, you’re unseated by the Maxwell twins, who are arguably more in tune with one another than you and Yoongi are. It doesn’t entirely matter. You’re a little more than drunk, stumbling toward the wine cellar as Jimin hollers at you to get the Merlot.
Skimming the racks in the dim, dry room, you hum the song you vaguely recognize coming through the shut door. Tapping your fingers along the bottles, you hear the door open and close behind you, feet shuffling down the stairs.
“Jimin, I swear I won’t take the super expensive stuff, okay?”
A throaty chuckle behind you has you spinning. Yoongi walks down the aisle slowly. “Get the expensive shit,” he encourages. “Jimin’s parents won’t notice.”
“What’d you have to pay for the passcode?” You tease, disappearing in the next row.
You can hear his soft steps on the wooden floor as he follows you. You’re quick on your feet, ducking behind another rack of wine just as he comes around the corner. He groans. “Just the usual: my first child, a favor to fulfill at any time, swearing to never hurt you.”
“Hmm that’s a lot of promises for a wine room.”
“I didn’t want the wine room, I wanted what was inside of it.”
Yoongi beats you to an aisle, appearing at the end. You squeal and twist back, rushing through the room as he laughs loudly. “Where are you running off to, sweet girl?”
“If you want me you’ll catch me!”
You can’t help the giddy feeling thrumming through you. You rush down the farthest aisle of wine, trying to move as quietly as possible. As it turns out, it isn’t that quiet. Yoongi hears you and cuts you off on the jump, making you crash into him with a wild squeal.
Arms wrapped around you, he squeezes and hauls you upwards. Your feet leave the ground as he laughs, spinning you as you shriek and wiggle, trying to get away from him. He grunts before putting you unceremoniously on your feet, but not letting you go.
“You want to break your neck?” he asks as you spin in his arms. He’s only a little taller than you, but you don’t care. You grin up at him, wrapping your arms around his middle and hugging him closer. His breath smells like honied whiskey as he leans close to you. “I’d be really sad, kid.”
“Yeah? How sad.”
“Real sad. I would eat loads of Sour Patch Kids in your memory. Would watch Sailor Moon at least once a day. Would make a few playlists to cry to, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
He grins as you huff. You press the underneath your chin against his chest, looking up at him with big, round eyes. “You know I’d make you mixtapes.”
“No one calls them mixtapes anymore, old man.”
“I do. And I will make you mixtapes when you’re gone.”
“Make them for me now.”
Yoongi’s kiss is soft. Your eyes flutter close as you let him press firmer into your mouth. He breaks away before you can run your tongue on his bottom lip like you love. “Okay. I’ll make some for you. Now let’s pick some wine before anyone comes looking for us.”
“Please, no one has looked for us in three nights.” Something passes his face. You can’t pick up on it, but he drops his hands from around you and gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
He hesitates. “Not at all, kid. Come on,” he pokes you. “Get your wine.”
So you do. You grab a fruity red with chocolate notes that you had been eyeing and the Merlot. He takes one bottle from you and takes your hand with the other. You swing your hands back and forth, happy to be there. You can’t help but pout when you have to separate at the door, but you get it.
“Soon,” he murmurs, kissing you on the temple and smacking you lightly on your ass as you squeeze through the door and back to the world of the roaring party.
Yoongi excuses himself to take over for Hoseok to control the music. You collapse onto the couch with Jungkook and Taehyung, joining in the drinking games as you uncork the wine
Wendy and Jungkook pass you in the hall. Her eyes are cutting as Jungkook stops you, begging you to share the wine. You roll your eyes, accompanying him to the kitchen which turns into an hour-long mission for cups. Everyone stops to ask him about streaming and ask you about job openings. Your job is cool, but you’re thirsty and there’s sweet wine waiting patiently to meet your mouth.
Cups in hand, the pair of you finally peel away into the living room where a childish game of truth and dare is going on. You’re wedged in a corner with Jungkook, trapped by the Maxwell twins who are grilling you about gaming.
You finish your wine, pouting. Yoongi catches your eye as he walks toward the kitchen, making a cup motion with his hand. You nod, biting your lip shyly as you turn to Jungkook, who watches the whole thing. He raises his brows but says nothing, gesturing toward where Taehyung is sitting on the couch by the truth or dare game which has resulted in a lot of weird making out.
As you walk by the circle of partiers with Jungkook, you hear someone call your name. You laugh, turning from Jungkook to see Wendy sitting next to Seokjin. She tilts her beer bottle toward you with a smile and you think nothing of it, asking “What’s up?”
Yoongi is coming out of the kitchen with two glasses of wine in his hand, making his way toward you as Wendy’s grin increases. Her eyes are hazy, and her cheeks are flushed from drinking.
“Your turn – truth or dare?”
“Uhhh dare, I guess?”
Why not? You’re feeling bold, the alcohol fueling you to lean against the couch behind Ren, smiling. Wendy smiles back, tilting her head as her friend snickers beside her. You’re warm, buzzing, and you don’t see it coming.
“I dare you to tell your brother you’re fucking his best friend.”
The smile drops from your face. Jungkook audibly gasps next to you and the people sitting around the table swivel to face you. Wendy leans back, one leg crossing over the other as she watches you, hands crossed over her chest.
Yoongi has frozen where he stands, just hearing the edge of the conversation.
“What?” you manage to ask. You shake your head, trying to shake off the feeling of being drunk. Everything is too loud and you can’t help but repeat the question, “What?”
“I dare you to tell Jin you’re sleeping with Yoongi.”
“Wendy.” You hear Yoongi’s deep warning from somewhere, but your eyes are only on your brother who looks at Wendy with a frown. She doesn’t dare look away from you, a challenge in her green eyes. You think of the nasty look she shot you earlier and your stomach drops.
You lick your lips, mouth suddenly dry. You search for the words as a flash of heat crawls up your neck, hands shaking as Seokjin turns in his seat, looking at you and rolling his eyes. “As if, Wen.” Seokjin settles his gaze on you. Sees you wide-eyed and sweating. Sees the rise and fall of your chest as you begin to pant. “Wait, you’re joking, right?”
Yoongi cuts through the people who are still partying, making his way to you. Jungkook is at your back, hand pulling at your waist to back you up from the couch. Taehyung gets up from the couch, eyes dark as he takes residence beside Jungkook, two dark knights flanking you.
“Here comes the hero,” Wendy’s friend murmurs next to her, a satisfied smirk on her face. Her eyes are on Yoongi, who Jungkook makes room for. “Lie to Wendy again how she was never a threat to your relationship.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ren snaps, leaning forward. She’s red in the face but you barely hear her as she says, “You are such an instigator – you are twenty-seven, grow up!”
“Let’s talk,” Yoongi says to Seokjin, who is staring at Yoongi, the tips of his ears turning red as he opens and closes his mouth. Seokjin’s hands turn to fists as his dark eyes flicker from you to Yoongi. You’re still fumbling, overwhelmed with terror and embarrassment. “Away from everyone.”
“Are you fucking my sister?”
The question makes you flinch. You’re shifting back and forth between feet, pushing at Yoongi to step away. People are starting to turn around and look at you. Eyes. So many eyes. It’s hot in the room and you feel like your clothes are sticking to your chest, like you can’t get enough room. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to loosen it.
“Jin, stop-” you start to ask, unable to finish the question before he’s cutting you off. Your voice is too small, too frail.
You suddenly feel like the little girl you used to be. Too shy to talk to your brother’s friends, ducking out of rooms when they were around. Your fight or flight kicks in. It’s hard to breathe, so you focus on Taehyung’s grip on you. You focus on his touch as much as you can, trying to level your breathing.
“Are you fucking my sister?” He asks again, standing. His voice is louder. The attention of the party is starting to turn on you in full. The people around the table are staring nudging one another with their elbows.
The focus of the room is shifting to you as Yoongi murmurs for Seokjin to come with him outside to talk. Seokjin isn’t moving, even when Jungkook walks around the couch to pull at Seokjin’s elbow, trying to gently guide him away from the table. Seokjin rips his arm away from the younger, face like a storm. You squeeze your eyes shut, turning into Taehyung who has his arms around you now.
“Answer the question!”
“Please stop,” you ask, voice cracking, but it’s muffled by Taehyung’s chest.
“You fucking asshole,” Seokjin swears. “This is a new low, even for you.”
“Outside,” Yoongi growls. “You’re embarrassing her.”
“I don’t care!”
“Well I do.” Yoongi looks over his shoulder, addressing Taehyung, “Go get some air.”
Taehyung lets go of you, pulling you away from the scene but you’re rooted in place. “Jin, I-”
“The two of you, man,” Seokjin scoffs, shaking Jungkook’s hand off him again as he storms toward the front of the house. “Un-fucking-believable.”
Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Seokjin is storming through people, people dodging out of his way. Ren is leaning over the coffee table, jabbing a finger toward Wendy who looks pale in the face as her friends push Ren’s accusatory finger away. Lydia’s hand is on Ren’s elbow, pulling her back.
Another tug on your arm. You turn to see Yoongi, dark eyes searching, brows creased as he cups your face briefly. You turn away from him, but his grip is firm, angling you back to him.
“Just give me some time, okay?”
You wordlessly nod. Yoongi sighs and kisses you on the temple, heading to where your brother has disappeared. Yoongi looks at Wendy and asks, “Why?”
Yoongi doesn’t give her time to answer. He’s charging after Seokjin. Namjoon is telling people to mind their own business. Hoseok has turned the music up so loud that it’s rattling your insides. Familiar hands guide you out of the back door. Down the porch.
Your heart is pounding. The words are ringing in your ears over and over again. The two of you, man. Un-fucking-believable.
Wood creaks underneath your shoes. Gentle arms around your waist – you can smell Jimin’s cologne – orange blossoms and gentle citrus. Taehyung’s fingers are laced with yours, squeezing. You feel something hot on your neck, lifting the hand not in Taehyung’s to touch the heated skin, realizing its tears.
You don’t know when you started crying. The boys take it in stride. They don’t say anything, they led you bury your face into Jimin’s neck. You ruin his shirt, you’re sure. It doesn’t matter. You let everything out, praying that no one is watching you from the porch. It’s ugly and it’s messy, the sobs choking.
“I didn’t-” you gasp over tears, trying to get the words out, “I didn’t mean-”
The sentence doesn’t come to completion. Taehyung squeezes your hand. Jimin has a hand brushing your head, the other secure around your waist. You can’t see Ren, but you hear her voice, high-pitched and cursing somewhere outside.
You want to thank her – to let her know you appreciate the backup – but the shame and the guilt are so powerful that instead, all you can do is cry.
And you hate yourself a little more for it.
Eventually, you sit on the dock. Ren and Jungkook listen as you fill them in on everything, sniffling. Taehyung still has your hand fiercely held in his, refusing to let you go.
It makes you think of when Yoongi asked to hold your hand so it was easier to talk. It makes you sniffle and lean your head on Jimin’s shoulder.
Your friends don’t judge you. No one tells you that you’re wrong, even though you feel like the worst person in the world. You’re quick to blame yourself and none of them are having it, waving off any self-accusation that you can manage.
“I shouldn’t have indulged,” you whisper.
“Having feelings for someone isn’t indulging,” Ren snaps. She’s still hot from her confrontation with Wendy. “Having feelings is a human thing. Hiding it to safeguard your feelings is a normal reaction, and Jin is way out of line for the way he handled that. We are pushing thirty, for fucks sake!”
“I’m a fucking liar.”
“Who isn’t?” Ren demands. “I don’t give a shit that you lied about it. You intended to tell Jin, right?” You nod. “That’s all that matters. It wasn’t to hurt him – it would have been super weird to ruin the trip. Like you know – is sort of happening right now.”
The sound of skin slapping skin and Ren cursing at Jungkook sounds. Jungkook clears his throat and murmurs, “You didn’t ruin the trip – Ren phrased that poorly. But we get why you did it, and Jin has to understand. Honestly? If Jin didn’t know you and Yoongi have been giving each other moon eyes for years, he’s an idiot.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you say nothing.
No one goes back to the party. Hoseok and Namjoon hold down the fort. Hosoek comes out with water and briefly ruffles your hair, promising that Seokjin will come around. You can’t find it in you to give him a smile, but you thank him nonetheless.
Yoongi does not come to find you.
Minutes blend together while the five of you talk about anything and everything that doesn’t involve the confrontation. Ren has dialed it down, though she has asked multiple times if you want her to fight Wendy.
Truly, you don’t.
Yoongi had mentioned the night before how Wendy could be. And if you put yourself in her shoes? You understood. Because from Wendy’s point of view, it was like the worst thing was coming true. Something she had always feared in her own relationship with Yoongi ended up becoming real.
You can’t blame her for wondering if you were on the sidelines all along. You can’t blame her for thinking Yoongi lied every time he told you that you weren’t a threat. It’s a wound that she openly nursed in their relationship – not that you knew about it – and now it’s reopened. Fresh.
So she’s lashed out where it could hurt Yoongi, even if it meant hurting you and Seokjin in the process. Because she’s embarrassed, hurt, and feels lied to.
It isn’t a great place for her to be in, either.
As though your sympathies have manifested her, a feminine voice clears their throat. Ren is already getting to her feet, growling at Wendy who stands awkwardly where the splintered planks begin. She has a bottle of water in her hand, half gone and she fiddles with the hem of her shirt.
“Ca? Alone, please?”
“No?” Jimin laughs mirthlessly. “What could you possibly have to say?”
“I just want to talk.”
You touch Jimin as you meet Wendy’s eyes. The eyeliner is patchy and her mascara is smudged a bit. The tip of her nose is red. You realize that she’s been crying.
Taking a deep breath, you say, “Can you give us a few, guys?” None of your friends budge. You roll your eyes and pinch Taehyung. He groans and leads the charge, peeling himself from the dock, pulling Jungkook and Jimin by their shirts. “I’m fine.”
“I’d like to stay,” Ren asserts. You level a glare at her. She huffs and gets up, dusting herself off. “Fine, I’ll stay over there where I can see you but can’t hear. Is that suitable?”
You nod. Your friends aren’t excited to leave you alone with Wendy, who won’t look any of them in the eye. Despite your heart racing and the mounting urge to scream at her, you take a breath and gesture to the empty space next to you.
Ren and the others don’t go far, lingering a few yards away from the dock, huddled together and pretending not to cast glances at you. Wendy looks over her shoulder at them as she sits down on the dock, leaving a considerable amount of space between you.
“They’re good friends,” Wendy observes.
“They are. I don’t think you’re here to talk about them.”
“No. But I wonder if I surrounded myself with friends like them if I would be nicer.”
“Perhaps a little, but you’re an adult. It’s free to be nice and exercise good habits that promote that.”
Wendy sucks in a breath at the harsh comment but you don’t take it back. She blows out the air, tilting her head up to look at the sky. “Yeah, I deserve that.” You shrug. She continues, “I feel ridiculous saying sorry – not because you don’t deserve it, but because it’s only been like an hour and I feel terrible about it.”
“It was an unkind thing to do.”
“You’re right. It was childish and unfair to you, Yoongi and Jin.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because I felt small and insecure. Maybe you don’t know, but Yoongi was always so different about you. I let that shit eat at me for a very long time instead of addressing it properly. You guys always seemed so much more in sync, and I was always envious of how easy it was for you to understand him when I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry that you struggled with that.”
She waves a hand. “I’ll have to get over it. When I realized you guys vanished together last night and when he didn’t answer my text asking if you were a thing-”
You whip your head to her. “He knew you knew?”
Wendy blinks in surprise. She opens and closes her mouth. “I sent a pretty drunk text accusing him of it. And then when I saw you two come out from the wine cellar tonight, I knew.”
You pick at the cracked pieces of wood that make up the dock. Peeling tiny splinters and slivers, you think about that. Yoongi had known that Wendy was suspicious – had commented on her being petty and lashing out and yet, he didn’t tell you.
It’s probably nothing to be upset over, and yet you are. Because this could have been prevented, you could have known there was a target on your back.
Swallowing past the building frustration, you say, “So what changed your mind?”
“I felt pretty gross about it immediately after. Seeing your anxiety attack made me feel terrible because I’ve been there.”
“It felt pretty terrible.”
She nods. “I’m sure it did. I can’t take it back, but I wanted you to know that I’m aware I shouldn’t have done that. It does nothing at the moment, but if it’s worth anything, I’m going to attempt to learn from this.”
“Do more than attempt and I’ll be pleased.”
She offers you a soft smile. Nodding when the silence gets awkward, she pushes herself up from the dock. She hesitates and adds, “You and Yoongi? You make sense. You always have. Jin might be upset for a while, but I think he’ll see that. I’d like to apologize to them both when I have a chance.”
“I think that would be nice. And Wen?” she turns and looks at you. “Thanks.”
Wendy smiles and nods, heading back toward the house. She skirts your friends, giving them a wide berth as they come back, piling themselves on the dock.
“No hair pulling?” Taehyung asks with a pout. You shake your head with a breathy laugh. “Huh. Fights are so much less fun as an adult.”
-
Yoongi and Seokjin are nowhere to be found when you return to the party. It’s died down considerably. Namjoon meets you halfway through the living room, letting you know that the pair of them left the house to go somewhere to talk.
Anxiety eats away at you as the last of the partygoers leave. You check your phone repeatedly but there’s nothing from either of them.
You cannot imagine the conversation they’re having. And though you had begun to mentally prepare yourself for Seokjin’s reactions, you cry when you lay down in your bed, unable to stop worrying that you’ve ruined their friendship to a point of no return.
Sleep is impossible. So you stare at the ceiling, spiraling into a series of memories. You can’t help but sift through memories with your brother as you sniffle, tears occasionally escaping your eyes.
Seokjin is a good brother. He is the best brother. He has always been there for you in ways that you probably haven’t really thanked him for.
As the younger sibling, it occurs to you that Seokjin was so much more of a leader in your life than you realize. It makes you cry a little more, rolling over as the guilt makes your stomach flip.
Though your parents weren’t around much – your mother splitting time between Italy as a fancy and flighty artist, your father working on overseeing multiple construction projects for condominiums in Miami, Malibu, Busan, Hong Kong, and Dubai – and Seokjin had always been there.
There had been the nannies and housekeepers. They were fine and they were responsible. But your childhood is painted with images of Seokjin coming to get you for dinner. Of him faxing your parents’ permission slips for your field trips. Of him hanging out in lobbies of doctor’s offices while you got physicals to play soccer.
And now you’re asking him to share Yoongi.
But shouldn’t you be able to be happy? Your annoyance begins to build. Why aren’t you allowed to have what you want? Why aren’t you allowed to like Yoongi? It isn’t that big of a deal. The world goes on, and it’ll either work or it won’t.
Just as the light begins to turn grey outside, you hear footsteps in the hall. You sit up straight in bed, clutching the blankets in your hands as the door opens. You hold your breath, leaning forward as your brother slips into the room.
He’s still in the clothes from the party.
Heavy silence hangs in the air. Seokjin leans against the door, staring at you. You’ve never felt this before, this gap between you. It’s like even if you held your hand out to him, you cannot breach the wall. He’s so far away, though he’s looking at you with a blank expression.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask. “You’re not going to accept an apology, but I am sorry.”
Seokjin shrugs. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“We were going to tell you.”
“Don’t really care.”
That sparks a fire in you. “Is it really the end of the world for you?” You demand. “That I want to date your friend? He’s my friend too.”
“He is my friend first. That was always the deal, always the bargain. I share everything with you and you had to go and fuck Yoongi? Honestly?”
“It wasn’t just that-”
“Yoongi doesn’t date. You know that better than anyone, and when he does date, he fucking sucks at it. You don’t deserve that shit. How many times did you catch him fucking around in college and you think – you think that is love?”
“I never said anything about love,” you snap. “But I want to give him a chance-”
“Two weeks ago he was talking about how dating wasn’t for him. Had an entire conversation about it. Then we get here and suddenly he throws me in the fucking trash for you.”
“That isn’t what he did, and you’re an asshole for saying that.”
“He is willing to give up my friendship with him for a relationship with you. It feels the same.”
“Yoongi loves you. You’re his best friend, this… this changes nothing, Jin. We’re not sharing him, he’s not some child to have split custody over-”
“I gave up my life for you!” Seokjin screams, making you feel small. “Took you to practice, helped you with homework, let you hang out with me and my friends. Always took you places so you didn’t have to be alone, because mom and dad didn’t care if you were alone.”
Your tears spill over. You can’t stop them as you cover your face in your hands. Because his words are honest and laced with a pain you didn’t know existed. “And now everyone is mad at me,” Seokjin’s voice cracks. “Because I’m upset that I have to share another person, another friendship. Because everyone has always given you what you’ve wanted, and I’m not allowed to be upset because my friend would rather date my sister than be friends with me.”
“I’m sorry,” you cry.
“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to understand. It feels like I’m having to give you another part of my life. It’s not – it’s not even that you lied to me. You’re my sister, you’re supposed to lie. But Yoongi? He’s not supposed to lie to me. He is the single person in my life I have been able to count on outside of my single sibling, and he chose you. What don’t you get?”
Fresh tears burn. You feel the sob working its way up, and Seokjin isn’t there to comfort you. He’s worlds away, across the room looking at you with exquisite pain. Because he’s right. Seokjin’s entire life has revolved around you, and the one friend that Seokjin has considered only his now wants to be with you.
“I love you,” Seokjin murmurs. “You’re my sister. I’d do anything for you - I do anything for you. I love Yoongi, he’s my best friend. But you could have just… just talked to me. Instead you chose each other inside of ever thinking about me. Both of you. No one chose me.”
“Okay. I will stay away.”
Seokjin waves his hand, opening the door to leave. “Do whatever you want. It’s already fucking ruined.”
“Jin…”
“I’ll get over it one day, but I’m mad. Let me be mad.” He hits the wall lightly, bouncing his palm on it. “I love you, okay? Have a safe flight in the morning.”
“I love you too.”
Your flight out isn’t far off. You peel the clothes off and step into the shower. Wash the misery down the drain. Scrub the tear marks off your cheeks. Exhaustion weighs heavy on you, dragging every step to change and re-pack the rest of your bag.
A gentle knock on the door draws your attention as you finish zipping the bag closed. You turn as Yoongi lets himself in and you can’t help it – you take in a deep breath, feeling jittery as you do a quick assessment.
He’s in sweats and a long-sleeve shirt. His blonde hair is hidden under a hat pulled so low you almost can’t see his face. But you see the red-lined eyes, the dark circles and the paleness of exhaustion there.
“Can I take you to the airport?” he asks, voice gentle.
It sounds final. Heavy. So you nod wordlessly, pulling your bag from the bed. When you approach him, Yoongi holds his hand out. You give him your bag, letting him do this final thing for you.
The house is undisturbed. Downstairs, you blink in surprise to find everyone except your brother. You say your goodbyes and find them more muted than usual. Namjoon ruffles your hair, an attempt at cheering up but it feels hollow.
Maybe it’s just because you’re hollow. Because you know where this going.
It doesn’t make the silence better for the first fifteen minutes. Pearl light falls across Yoongi’s profile, half of him shadowed and half of him glowing. He looks so beautiful that you angle yourself toward the door, averting your eyes.
Yoongi drives leaned back, a single hand on the wheel. Casual confidence, even though his mouth is tight.
After twenty minutes, he offers his hand over the center console. Palm up. Welcoming. Missing you already.
You slid your hand in his, gentle palms against rough skin. He holds your hand tight and nods. “You don’t want to date.”
“Yeah,” your voice cracks. “It’s… yeah.”
He nods, mouth forming a folded line. His eyes are focused on the road, unblinking. You almost take your hand out of his, mistaking his silence and expression for anger. But his grip is tight.
“Can I convince you otherwise?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice is low and tight, vocal cords strained as the tears threaten you again. “Will he come around?”
Yoongi let’s out a sound somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. “I have no fucking idea, baby.” He glances at you side long, dark eyes tracing your face. “I want to think so. He’s deeply upset, and he has every right to be. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and instead of explaining, I alienated him. It didn’t help that all our friends picked a side. He feels like no one is listening to his hurt.”
“It wasn’t just you.”
Yoongi sighs. His thumb brushes back and forth across your hand. “I can’t sit here and promise you he’ll be okay with it. I have no idea where my friendship with him goes after this. But if you want this, I’m here. If you don’t, I understand.”
“Why do I have to make all the decisions?” you ask in a whisper.
He smiles. “Life is tough, kid. Maybe think about it for a few days. I’m a phone call away.”
The airport stretches ahead of you. Your feet are like lead when you get out of the car. You don’t want to leave. Your heart is screaming to say something- anything.
Instead, you let him pull you into his chest. Notes of sandalwood. Soft lips against your forehead. The brush of his nose against yours as he gifts you a soft, lingering kiss.
Yoongi’s hands drop to his sides as you step back. He gives you a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s no mirth. You nod and take your bag from him. It weighs you down further.
“Tell someone when you land safely, if not me, okay?”
You nod. “Are we… are we allowed to talk?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Okay.”
He smiles, nodding toward the automatic doors of the airport. “Safe flight, kid.”
-
Stars are in the sky, glittering high above you as you sit on the chaise section of the couch. You’re wrapped in blankets, a steaming cup of tea balanced on the cushion next to you as you type and erase. Type and erase.
This has been a game for days now. You don’t know what to say. Asking ‘how are you’ seems like opening the door to false niceties or painful truths. ‘How is your day’ feels just as pointless. So you type and erase, wondering if Yoongi is watching the three bubbles appear and reappear on his screen, or if he’s given up on the radio silence.
You stare at the conversation.
Me: Landed safe.
Min Yoongi: I’m glad.
You already miss the nickname and the cat emoji. You changed it before texting him – somehow thinking about you pressed toe-to-toe with Yoongi in that closet while he carried you to safety on a curated playlist is too sharp.
Me: I’m sorry for everything.
Min Yoongi: Don’t be.
Me: Read 1:43 pm
That was a week ago. You’ve tried to figure out what to say, but you’re not sure if you should say anything at all. You told him that you didn’t want to do this. You have no idea if he and Seokjin are speaking – Seokjin certainly isn’t speaking to you – and you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be friends or not.
Jungkook comes out of his room, commanding your attention. He’s got wireless gaming headphones around his neck, RBG lights turning his face red then blue. His hair hangs in his eyes and he frowns when he sees you, coming over to sit next to you. You snatch the cup of tea before he can spill it.
“How’s the stream?” you ask. You know it’s going well – you’ve been watching on your phone in the dark between trying to come up with something to say to Yoongi at 11:15 pm on a Friday night.
“Good. People are really excited about the release of the new agent and map. What other plans do you have for that?”
You blow out air, hair dancing in front of your face. Leaning your head on the back of the couch, you rub at your temples. Your company has a new character and map coming out in the new season and you’ve been working on the marketing for months.
And now with the last few strings needing to be tied, you feel completely uninspired.
Your season playbook sits on the coffee table. It’s filled with coffee stains and wrinkled pages from water damage. You’re not nice to your notebooks, but you do get the best use out of them. The marketing plan had been finished weeks ago, all mapped out perfectly.
There were now a few loose ends with a streamer backing out of featuring it due to some family concerns. You need to fill the gap for showcasing the new character, and Jungkook is already on the docket for it.
You’ve got a month to fix the gap. Something that is normally not a problem, except you’ve come home with your head hung low and your heart somewhere you cannot reach.
“Just looking for a replacement for Geko. He wasn’t a professional streamer but he has a huge audience for his music and he’s super into gaming.”
Jungkook chews on his lip. His brows pinch in the middle for a second and he suddenly pats you on the back incredibly hard. “Let the chips fall where they may.”
“I- what?” Jungkook is grinning as he rushes back to his room, caffeine forgotten. “Did you just quote She’s the Man?” You yell after him but he doesn’t respond.
You spend the rest of your night switching between Jungkook’s Twitch stream and your hopelessly empty text messages.
-
Gentle hands pry you from sleep. You grumble, looking at Jungkook as he tries to peel the blankets away. Your new blackout curtains shade your room nicely, keeping it cool and dark. Your new haven where you’ve started to slink off to when you can’t stop wondering if you’ve done the right thing.
Another week has passed and you’ve failed to figure out something to say to Yoongi. You’re weary at the edges, eyes swollen and itchy from staying up so late, which is unusual for you.
Your phone is next to you, bringing back memories of why you stayed up so late – you were struggling with things to say, so you began building a playlist. A way to transcend language and speak your feelings without having to construct the words and the sentences.
“Come on, it’s noon.”
“Leave me,” you murmur. “I’m tired.”
Jungkook sighs. “Can you just come to have lunch with me and some water? Please?”
You let him guide you from your room. The house is cleaner than you remember it being. When you ask Jungkook, he admits he’s been picking up your slack. You pick at the crust of your pizza, avoiding his eyes because you know you haven’t been the best roommate.
Jungkook doesn’t push you for more responsibility. Doesn’t ask you not to leave dishes in the sink. He just lets you be, making sure that you’re fed and bringing you water when he can remember. It’s an unfamiliar dynamic, but he does an admirable job.
And he doesn’t try to encourage you to snap out of it. He has no tough love to give. No harsh words. There is only understanding, and occasionally asking if you’ve spoken to Seokjin. He never asks about Yoongi – either because he doesn’t have the heart to see you shake your head or because he’s afraid to bring him up.
The answer is always the same: not really. Seokjin will answer if you really press him, but otherwise, there are no more weekly phone calls. There are a couple of texts to check in to see if the other is alive, but for the last two weeks, you’re sailing uncharted seas with your brother, unsure how to steer the boat.
Your food is heavier in your stomach than you want it to be. Jungkook tries to sneak in another task by asking if you want to do groceries, but you put it off. He’s clever, though. Ren Facetimes at that exact moment and Jungkook smirks over his phone at you when he answers.
Carefully, you slide off the stool when Jungkook casually says, “Yeah, we were just finishing lunch. Here, keep her busy while I do dishes.”
You stare at him with a curled lip. He’s all grins as Jungkook hands you the phone against your will. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Ren – you talk to her daily. But it’s another way to keep you from your room.
Jungkook – 2 You – 0
“Hi,” you greet quietly, gliding to the couch. “Your boyfriend fed me burnt pizza.”
“Listen,” Ren huffs. “If you want gourmet, you’re going to have to do it yourself. Until then, it’s burnt crust for you baby.”
You smile.
Catching up is easier than you thought it was going to be. By the time Jungkook is sitting next to you, leaning so that you’re both in the shot, you don’t feel like giving the phone up. A breath of ease washes over you as Jungkook grabs the phone, turning off facetime to add Jimin and Taehyung to the call.
No one brings up Yoongi, but it doesn’t feel like their tiptoeing. By the end of the call, you don’t want to sleep so much anymore, agreeing to go to the grocery store with Jungkook. As you slid your shoes on, you touch his elbow. “Hey.” He looks up at you, doe-eyes wide. “Thanks.”
He grins. “What are roomies for?”
-
The next week has good and bad days. There are some days isn’t doesn’t feel like anything is wrong. You have a lead on a fill-in for an influencer to stream the new agent and map play at work, and things are going smoothly. You’re not hiding in your room anymore, and Seokjin is answering a little more.
He even texted to ask if he could get access to the agent earlier than release. You put in a good word – which is really just heading to the development team and having them send the file over to him – and he thanks you.
It feels more normal than it has.
But today is a bad day. Your fill for Geko has another conflict and once again you’re left with a gaping hole in the plan for popular media influencers to showcase game play. On top of that, the strap on your favorite heel is broken at work.
Inconveniences aside, you know what’s really ruining your day.
You don’t dare to grab your phone and look at the last text you sent Yoongi, the one that went through green instead of blue. Somewhere you know you’re the perfect example of first-world problems: look at the girl freaking out because his texts are green now. Did he block her? Did he just not have service?
You don’t think it’s the latter. A few hours after the unanswered green text, you had followed up.
Me: Saved by Khalid
Me: Green, huh? You’re telling me you’re an Android user now?
Nothing. No response.
Your stomach flips at the thought of checking your phone again to see nothing there.
At the end of the day, you’ve checked your phone several times and there’s nothing. You want to vomit as you grab your things and head home. Your laptop and playbook are tucked in your bag, keeping your head down as you dodge through the rain coming down in the parking lot.
You curse when you get in your car, soaked and feeling sticky. You shiver when the AC comes on, jamming your finger to turn it off so quickly your finger bends awkwardly. You curse loudly and in one, quick breath of air – you scream on top of your lungs in the car. Eyes close, fists clenched, a single cathartic yell into the void.
For a second after, you just sit there panting. Slowing your breathing, you open your eyes and turn on the car, already starting to feel a little better after a good yell.
Rainy cityscape passes you by. Staring up at the shining buildings while you’re stopped at the light, a sudden memory flashes through you. What’s your favorite thing about your new city?
You remember your answer. There’s no pressure to be anyone.
Instead of going right home, you drive through the wet streets. The playlist you started curating is on. If you could give it to Yoongi, you think about what you might say. You’ve given each other so many mixtapes and playlists over the years that you think may you would just smile and he would get it.
Because it’s Yoongi. You don’t have to tell him the shape of your heart. He listens, and he knows.
Teary-eyed and frustrated, you wind up at your apartment. Your hair is damp as you shuffle the keys in your hand, letting yourself in.
“Jungkook, can you bring me a towel? I’m soaked and trailing water.”
You wait for your roommates response, but it’s not Jungkook who answers. “Where does he keep the towels?”
Your head snaps up. Seokjin leans on the wall, smirking with an eyebrow arched. “Jin?”
“Hiya.”
“What…?”
“Missed my sister. And honestly?” He shrugs. “Been thinking on some things and felt like I needed to have a conversation with her.”
You don’t think. You just run to him, his arms open as he catches you. You’re soaking his shirt, with both the rain-drenched close and the tears that you were holding back in the car. Seokjin is careful, brushing your hair as he tells you to hush, but he’s there and he’s your brother.
Your brother who loves you, who has come back around for you.
With a towel out of Jungkook’s room, Seokjin leads you to the kitchen where you sit on a stool. He leans on the counter, linking his hands and leveling a serious gaze with you. “I’m going to keep this quick, alright?” You frown, but nod. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and while I’m still pretty pissed the two of you lied to me, I think it would make me a fool and a liar to admit I didn’t see it the entire time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Yoongi have always vibed. He’s always cared about you in his own ways and you have good chemistry. There were times in college I thought he’d ask me to date you, but then he never did.” Seokjin shrugs. “I thought I was making it up.”
You let out air. “Wow.”
“Look – we all fucked up. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, and I’ve been trying to figure out for three weeks how to put into words how sorry I am for how I treated you.”
“You’re sorry? Jin I –”
He holds up a hand and shakes his head. “No. I gave you an anxiety attack, embarrassed you because of my rage, and I said things that I didn’t mean.” Seokjin lowers his face so that he’s eye-level with you. “Being your brother is one of the best parts of my life. And I’m sorry that I made it sound like I resented sharing my life with you – my friends, my time.”
You’re crying now. You wipe your face with your shoulder, curling in on yourself as he pushes onward. “I was hurt and I didn’t know how to explain what I was feeling. I think I was insecure that Yoongi would trade me for you. I don’t know, you guys are a lot more alike. But I realized that my friendship with Yoongi and whatever he feels for you isn’t mutually exclusive.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” you sniffle. “He doesn’t want this – which is totally okay. I don’t blame him.”
“Well, that’s kind of weird.” You raise your brows at his playful tone. “Pretty expensive way for him to tell you he doesn’t like you if that’s true. I mean, who flies here to-”
“What?”
Seokjin pushes himself off the counter, coming around it and hugging you fiercely. You squirm in his arms, confused and trying to pry the truth from him. Seokjin kisses your head and heads toward the door. “I’m going to have dinner with Jungkook.”
“I’m so confused.”
“Left the expensive present in your room,” he adds, opening the door. “And hey? Seriously. I’m sorry and… I’m happy. I’m going to be happy. I want that for you too.”
Seokjin doesn’t say anything else before shutting the door.
Turning slowly, you look at the closed door of your bedroom. Sliding from the stool, you carefully cross over to it, one foot in front of the other. Your breaths are shaky when you reach the handle and turn it, only opening it enough that you can peek inside as if that will somehow lessen the blow if Seokjin is joking.
Your breath catches when you see Yoongi standing on the opposite side of the room. His arms are crossed over his chest, hands lost in the sleeves of his shirt. He’s in ripped jeans and a hat pulled low, staring up at the pictures on your wall.
Silver tears shine in your eyes when you step in the room, but he’s so focused on the photos that he doesn’t turn to you until you tentatively call, “Yoongi?”
He whips he’s head around. His dark eyes light up and he smiles, though it seems a bit wobbly and unsure. You don’t move from the doorway, watching him with your mouth slightly agape. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” he starts. “I had a pretty long speech planned for you, but I think it’s sort of stupid now that I’m thinking about it. It included some things like I’m stupid for not talking you into dating me in the car on the way to the airport. I’m horrible for not telling you Wendy was onto what was going on and giving you a heads up. I’m an idiot for not just picking up the fucking phone and calling you-”
You don’t let him finish. You bolt across the room, because standing in front of you is… well it’s Yoongi.
Your arms slip around his middle and you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your face so hard to his chest that you think you might shatter. He squeezes you back with equal strength, two equal forces pushing into one another. His lips are on your forehead, soft as they plant kisses along the crown of your hair.
“You’re not stupid,” you whisper, eyes still shut. You smell sandalwood and his chest rumbles with his laughter. “You’re here.”
“Yeah, Jin brought me. Jungkook’s idea, actually.”
“Really?” You look up at him. You’re unwilling to part, your head still pressed against his chest at an awkward angle. Yoongi looks down at you, cat eyes mystified, humming in confirmation. “That’s nice of him.”
“I hear you’ve been moping.”
“I thought you blocked me.”
“What? Why?”
“My texts when green this morning…”
He smirks. “Finally texted me, huh? I was on the plane.”
Your mouth makes an ‘o’ as he leads you toward your bed. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap. You cling to him, arms going around his neck and face buried in his shoulder. His arms circle your waist, holding you tight.
“What was the message?”
“Saved by Khalid.”
He hums and laughs. “Made me a mixtape?” You nod, closing your eyes and just enjoying the feel of him. “Sweet girl,” he hums. “I made you one too?”
You pull away to look down at him. Your hands rest on either side of his shoulder. He’s glowing, a gummy smile on his face as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your mouth, as though he can’t decide where he wants to look longer. “Really?”
“Yeah. Didn’t know what to say. Thought maybe…”
“The music could do it for you?” He nods. “Me too.”
“I missed you,” he admits. “Often. Painfully. Shamefully. Should’ve turned the car around and made Jin talk, all three of us like adults. I was so afraid of pushing too hard and ruining it though.”
“Me too,” you admit. Your hands thread the long hair at the nape of his neck. “What now?”
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I’ve always been here to give you what you want, whatever you need.” He squeezes your hips. “I’ve always been yours – for years, even though I didn’t know it. So if you’ll have me officially…”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” You whisper, heart pounding in your ears.
He grins up at you. “Something like that.”
“Kiss me,” you demand.
“Absolutely.”
Yoongi tastes familiar. He’s warm and you light up inside as his soft mouth presses against yours, sure and confident. His lips are everything as they pry your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours.
Your fingers dig into the hair at the back of his neck, your legs squeezing his waist as you kiss him with everything you have.
Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth the way he knows you like and you moan without having to be quiet for once. He pulls away, spit slick on berry lips, eyes blinking in a haze. “You are remarkable,” he murmurs, hands rubbing up and down your side. You chase his mouth with yours but he escapes, laughing when you whine. “I will not go another two years without you. I won’t go another fucking second.”
“Then stop stopping kissing me!”
“That makes no sense.”
“You make no sense, Min Yoongi.”
His smile is beatific. “On that, we can agree.”
Yoongi kisses you again. He lets the pair of you fall backwards, his hands slipping under your blouse, palms spreading on your back. You giggle, hips rolling lightly, like the way he hisses when you grind down into him.
His hat knocks off of his head, your fingers pulling at his hair. When you open your eyes and break the kiss for air, you make a surprised noise and sit up, straddling his waist. Yoongi looks at you with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his hands settled on your hips under your shirt.
“Your hair is black!”
He gives you his sideways smirk. “Like it?”
“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurt.
He laughs loudly, fingers gripping your hips. He rolls his hips up, catching you with his half-erection and making you moan deep in your throat.
“Yeah?” he asks, voice low. “Wanna run your fingers through it while I eat you out?”
“Fuck,” you blurt, loud.
Your world spins as he rolls you over. Yoongi’s mouth is sucking marks onto your neck – hard His tongue is quick to follow, brushing over and soothing the ache as he maps out his want on your neck, your collar bones. His hands brush over your clothed breasts, squeezing.
“Don’t have to be quiet now,” Yoongi pants, kissing you again. You pull at the hem of his shirt. You want it off. “Been dying to eat this pussy for weeks. Wanna hear you this time.”
“Please,” the shirt is stuck under his arms, Yoongi is too distracted to let you take it off.
You growl at him. “Take this fucking shirt off.”
His chuckle is like gravel. He leans up, taking his shirt off and tossing it. You don’t wait for him to come back down to you, greedy hands pulling at his belt loops, mouth meeting his stomach, his chest. You nip his flesh, looking up at him through hooded eyes. His head is tipped back, eyes fluttering as you litter his soft skin with bruises.
Yoongi lets you have fun. You taste the sweetness of him, flicking a tongue over a nipple when he pulls you back by the hair, crashing your mouths together. Yoongi pins you down again, nearly shredding your shirt as he tears through the buttons, tossing it.
The room is stifling as you press against one another, driven by the space weeks apart created. You feel high, whining into him as he pulls your pants down, hands going right for the prize. Yoongi plays with your wet folds, fingers deft and attentive. It sparks pleasure deep in your stomach, twisting.
“Fuck,” you whisper. He’s nibbling your ear, your pebbled nipples pressing against his chest, creating friction. You’re vibrating all over, every touch magnified by the sounds he lets out. “Feels good.”
His fingers pull your panties to the side, brushing up and down your slit softly. “Mmm, wet just the way I like it.”
Yoongi’s hand vanishes and he gets up. You pout. He brings slick-soaked fingers to his lips, deliberately making eye contact as he grins and slides them into his mouth, pink tongue slowly tracing the tips. “As sweet as I remember.”
He peels your underwear off, dropping them to the floor. Yoongi doesn’t lavish your thighs this time – he has time to do that. You feel it in the way his hands go under your legs, pulling them over his shoulder – he’ll take his time later.
Right now, he just wants you.
You gasp when his tongue traces your aching hole. Your hands shoot to his hair, silky soft as you hold him there. He hums, lazily dipping his tongue in to gather your juices. It feels so fucking good. He zigzags his tongue up your pussy, following the same circular motion around your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking hard.
“Oh fuck yeah,” you gasp, not caring that your voice carries up to the ceiling. “Fuck your mouth-”
He hums, enjoying the sounds he draws from you as he alternates between sucking at your clit and licking your hole. He eats you out vigorously, determined to cover every inch of your dripping pussy with his mouth. He’s noisy, humming and moaning with satisfaction as he sucks at you, wetness dripping down his chin.
“Missed you in my mouth,” he pants, looking up at you with fucked out eyes. You’re hypnotized, watching as you cradle his head between your legs. He grins, working his tongue between his teeth on your clit, making you kick your legs. “Such a pretty fucking girl, squirming under my tongue.”
Yoongi latches his mouth on your clit, sucking hard. You cum suddenly with no warning and a scream, lurching forward. He pins you down, sucking harder and sending you into a blinding frenzy. You can’t stay still, screaming his name until he relents, mouth kissing up your thighs as you pant, heart thundering through your entire body.
You can feel your pulse as you gulp for air, going boneless as he kisses up your stomach, circling your belly button before reaching your breasts. You whine when he licks lazy patterns around your nipples, using his teeth to pull at them.
“Yoongiiiii.”
He nips your soft flesh. “Hmmm?”
“Sensitive.”
“Good,” he mumbles, kissing you on the mouth. You lick into him eagerly and he smiles into the kiss, working his pants off. “Gonna let me split you open?”
“Please.”
He kisses you, shuffling you up the bed. You pry your legs open for him, wet and eager. He sees how pliant you are for him, eyes rolling back into his head as he takes a breath, trying to gain his composure. You don’t let him, raising your hand to your mouth and spitting in it generously before reaching between your legs and wrapping your hand around him.
“Fuuuck baby.”
You grin as he shivers. You pump him leisurely, spreading your spit up and down his velvety shaft. You love how heavy his cock is in your hand, watering at the way it twitches in your palm. You rub the head of his cock against your pussy, both of you groaning.
“Want you,” you pant, pressing the tip into your hole. He lets you take the lead. “Missed your cock so much.”
“Just my cock?” he teases.
“Shut up.”
Yoongi gets you back. Before you can slide him in, he jerks his hips forward, plunging in and hitting your g-spot on the first stroke. You go wild, thrashing beneath him as he grins, pulling all the way out and repeating the motion.
“Oh my fuck.” You’re grabbing at his back, nails digging in. You try to find purchase on anything, searching for something to ground you as he fucks into you hard and fast, his precision dead on. “Fuck – I’m gonna come again.”
“Yeah?” he demands. “Already?”
You nod, eyes squeezed shut. It spurs him on. He grabs your hips, planting you firmly on the bed. Your hands grip his wrists as you begin to breath faster and faster, nearly sending yourself into hyperventilation as you hold your breath, the coil in your stomach shooting toward the sky and shattering the clouds.
It happens fast – you come around Yoongi, nearly going numb as you clench on him. You’re vaguely aware that he’s cursing, pausing his thrusts as you squeeze, pussy unrelenting. You collapse onto the bed after, barely able to gulp down air. He’s slow to thrust again, watching you with his mouth open, wonder on his face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard,” you rasp, voice raw.
He noses you. “That was fucking hot.” He pulls out of you and you furrow your brow when he flips you over. You shiver as he props your ass up in the air and spreas your thighs apart. “You’re going to do it again.”
Fuck. You have no idea if you can. But when he slides back into you, the stretch glorious and his pace slow, you think Yoongi can coax whatever he wants out of you. He’s always been able to. From the moment he made you tell him your name, or made you play piano for him, Yoongi has been able to get you to do what he wants.
Because you’ve always been his. Even when you were in different orbits or on other pages, you were bound to come back to him.
With the realization that you were built for him, you find the energy to fuck yourself back on him. He makes an appreciative noise, strokes deep and slow. He grabs at your ass, gripping tight as your skin smacks wetly together, your cum staining the places your skin meets.
You don’t think. It’s just Yoongi, the sounds he makes, and the way he makes you feel. The way his tip brushes that sweet spot in you, making your head hang between your arms as you work his cock.
Yoongi sneaks a hand around your waist, finger gently pressing on your clit.
“I don’t know if I can,” you beg. Yoongi is gentle, finger applying the barest pressure. You feel your stomach curl and you curse, tears streaming from your eyes. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“My sweet girl,” he grunts, fucking into you harder. Your orgasm is slowly building and with the way his hips start to stutter, you know he’s close. “Together, yeah?”
You nod your head. Words are beyond you and you can only focus on the steady rhythm of his fingers on your pulsing clit and the deep slide of his cock.
Yoongi manages to do it again – he draws a gentle orgasm from you, long and soft as you drop down on the bed, ass pressed to his pelvis as he holds onto you with a bone-bruising grip. He moans your name, holding you to him as he comes, gasping for air.
Hours or minutes pass by. You’re not sure. There’s just soft bliss and the heat and tangle of blankets.
Yoongi pulls out of you, cum oozing down your legs. Stumbling and a little unsteady on his legs, he trails to your bathroom, knocking into the door. You barely manage a laugh, eyes shut as you drift a bit.
You flinch when you feel a warm washcloth on you, gentle as he wipes your legs, your battered pussy. You whine when he brushes the rag against your clit and he laughs with a soft apology. When he’s gone, your hand stretches on the mattress, seeking his warmth. It finds him on his return, slipping into the bed and seeking the warmth of your side.
Eyes fluttering open, you look at him in the dim light of the room. He is flushed pink and smiling your favorite gummy smile. You brush sweaty strands of hair from his eyes, fingers resting on his cheeks.
“I’m very happy that you came for me,” you whisper. “I missed you.”
“Missed you so much I made a ten track Mixtape.”
“Let’s listen.”
“You have a CD player?”
“You’re joking?” You crack your eyes open at him again and see him smiling shyly. “You burned me a CD?”
“I was feeling sentimental,” he defends. “I even wrote the tracks on it in sharpie like I used to.”
Your fingers brush his swollen, pouted lips. “What was the first song.”
His grin grows. “Saved by Khalid.”
-
Yoongi adjusts the headset on his head. The lights and soft background are perfect as Jungkook helps him click on a few settings in OBS. Jungkook gestures to the ‘go-live’ button before he steps out of the frame, walking around the other side of the row of setups where you’re watching.
The inside of the facilities is beautiful. He’s never been to your job, but he’s impressed with the setup and the way you command the room. Though Jungkook is there to help Yoongi with the streaming basics, something Yoongi is mostly unfamiliar with in the gaming world, you’re there for the materials.
You’ve perfectly placed his awards behind him. You’ve given him the chair with the company logo. The headphones of one of their partners. You’ve helped him construct the tweets, the teases in preparation of a long stream to debut the new agent and maps for your company’s came in conjunction with a new single.
It’s well thought. It’s a good partnership. But most importantly? Yoongi sees the way you lift your chin a little higher and push your shoulders a little straighter with pride when they commend you on the partnership.
And Seokjin is there. He’s happy and smiling, clapping Yoongi on the back and bragging that his sister is way cooler than he is. And Yoongi is so inclined to agree. Especially when you whoop his ass in the test rounds before the stream.
God he wants to fuck you stupid. But he can do that later. He has all of the time with you in the world. He doesn’t have to waste a single minute worrying he has to sneak in moments with you, that he has to hide behind doors.
“You ready, Jin?” Yoongi asks, looking at your brother. He’s on a setup much nicer than anything he’s ever had – and he’s made sure to tell you multiple times you should give him one – but he nods. You have no idea how he convinced you to get you to let him in on this. “Alright, let’s do this.”
Yoongi hits the live button. The window changes, immediately flooding the chat with viewers as he grins at the camera. “Hi guys,” he says awkwardly. His eyes glance up at you over the screen and you give him a shy smile. His heart flutters. “Welcome to today’s stream. I’m Agust D and today we’re trying how the highly anticipated new map and agent with my friend Jin. Let’s get it.”
“Yah – why is your username Mixtape?” Seokjin demands, clicking through the menu.
Yoongi’s eyes meet your sparkling ones over the monitor. “A joke between me and a close friend.”
“Alright, Mixtape it is.”
Yoongi smiles. “Mixtape it is.”
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