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oddinary4bts · 9 months

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Now We Reign | myg

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering

☆word count: 34.9k

☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Seven months ago

Music had always been home to you. A refuge, a safe haven from your family life as you had grown up. It had been held in the keys of your piano, and in the pages of your diary. Songs after songs, lines underlined and others erased. Clever play of words, rhymes and music to accompany it. Some of them had made it to your first EP, but most you had tried to forget.

Your past wasn’t one you wanted to revisit. Not when you had gotten a deal with a record label, something you hadn’t expected to happen at such a young age.

Idol life had never been something you were aiming for. You chose the backstreets, the smaller scene, and produced indie music as you went. It still got you a following, one that had been growing through the years, until your name was known all over Seoul.

You wondered if it had reached your hometown too, but the silence on your phone was clear enough: even if your parents had heard, their older daughter had been dead to them a long time ago. You had stopped caring through the years, pouring your hate for your family in your songs. You had even dived in the genre of rap a little. Rhythm and poetry, laced together until you lost yourself in the music.

It was different from your usual, but it had gotten the attention of a big name in the music industry. He had suggested a collaboration, offering to produce the song. All you had to do was help with the lyrics, though you were pretty sure he had that part covered. Of course he also wanted you to record some parts of the song for him, needing a female voice to be able to carry the meaning. Nothing too complicated.

After all, Min Yoongi already was a successful established artist. Far more successful than you ever thought you would be. It had taken you by surprise, when he had contacted you. It had been a random Tuesday night, and your agent had been going crazy, so much so you had had to tell him to calm down otherwise you were going to drop the collab. Minhyuk hadn’t needed more to oblige, and you had found yourself working on the song in the following weeks.

You weren’t surprised when Min Yoongi came to you with an almost finished version of the song. You had tweaked some parts, and surprisingly enough, he had trusted the changes. Even if you had made him rework one of his own verses, Yoongi had listened to you intently, and had seen the intelligence behind your suggestions.

You could only hope he would see the intelligence between the changes you wanted to make now. Because the song was set to release in a few weeks, and you were pretty convinced he didn’t like last minute changes.

Maybe that was why you found yourself going to his place, with a whiskey bottle as an offering so he wouldn’t be too mad.

Yes, you knew where Min Yoongi lived. In a far more luxurious condo building compared to your own, with a huge condo that stood on two stories of the upper levels. It offered him a beautiful view of the city, though you had yet to visit at night. Indeed, he had only made you come here once, on one of the early Saturdays of your collab.

You realized as you stood in front of the building that this was stupid. You hadn’t even texted or called him in advance to inform him of your impromptu visit. Had only decided the changes about an hour ago, and had rushed to the liquor store to grab the expensive bottle you currently held.

But life seemed to have plans for you. Other than that of running away into the night before you had the chance to embarrass yourself. That is, life had planned for you to run into Min Yoongi as he was walking back home, and you both stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before you collected yourself, offering him a respectful bow.

“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, and you hesitated before you straightened.

His hands were in his pockets, protecting him from the cold the evening held. He had an unreadable expression on his features, as if the sight of you was an inconvenience, but he didn’t want to let it show.

You weren’t stupid enough to believe collaborating with him had made you friends. Min Yoongi was a professional through and through, in everything he did. Apart from his members, you knew he didn’t mix work and personal life.

He said your name, and for a second you thought you saw confusion on his features. “What are you doing here?”

You stood there, not knowing what to say for what probably was a good ten seconds but felt like an eternity. His eyes flitted to the whiskey bottle, and you were pretty sure a disapproving look passed in his gaze, not lingering long enough for you to be sure you had truly seen it.

“I have some suggestions to make for the song,” you said. Your voice held strong, even though you felt incredibly uncomfortable under his stare.

His eyes widened a little, and his lips parted for a second before his mouth fell shut again. He looked behind you, to the hall of his building, before settling his gaze on you again.

“What do you have in mind?”

Oof. At least he was letting you talk. “It’s for the last bridge,” you started. “I think I could sing the last part differently. It’s lacking emotion.”

Yoongi had bothered you about emotion a lot when you had first been recording. Had told you he was surprised you couldn’t carry your usual emotion in this song. Which meant he had listened to your album, and you hadn’t known what to make of it for a time.

But you knew mentioning emotion was the way to go. Indeed, Yoongi slightly tilted his head to the side, still as unreadable, but you were convinced he was considering it.

“What makes you think you can get it better this time?”

There were no clues in his tone to let you know what he might have been thinking.

You had to refrain from scoffing. “I have what you need, trust me.”

He pursed his lips, just a little. A crack in his professional mask.

Because the song held sadness. The angry nostalgic kind. And hadn’t it been for the fact your parents hadn’t even deigned to call you for your birthday, you probably wouldn’t have found the right emotion in you to deliver the performance Yoongi had first wanted from you.

“Very well,” he said, nodding once. “You can record it in my home studio.”

You nodded too, agreeing to his invitation. You weren’t foolish enough to pass on the opportunity. You fell into step with Yoongi as he started moving towards the door again, the bottle of whiskey heavy in your hand.

“I brought a gift to apologize for being here so late,” you tentatively said. Not really knowing what approach to take when it came to the ice radiating off Min Yoongi today.

He had never been openly cold before. But you could feel it in the hard stretch of his shoulders, and the muscle that feathered on his jaw whenever he clenched it. Something was upsetting him, something that had made him go on a walk at a late hour just to clear his mind.

You were familiar with such walks. You getting to his place had started as a walk like that. Until you had seen the liquor store and decided to be gone with formalities.

You hadn’t expected him to let you see his emotions. Even if a minute ago you had been at a loss with how he felt, now you could physically feel the anger on him. But ever so the professional and gentleman, Yoongi held the door open for you, breathing in one last time the cold air of the night before he stepped in behind you.

And just like that the unbreakable mask was back in place. It wasn’t like you minded: like him, you prided yourself in your professionality. Just because Yoongi was a big name in the industry didn’t mean that you were going to forfeit your nature.

Maybe that was the reason why the elevator ride was so awkward. Yoongi had dived his hands back in his pockets as soon as he had hit the call button, and then after he had pressed on his level. You were just standing next to him, and the silent elevator smoothly went up the floors until you reached his. You found yourself straining to look ahead, avoiding to glance at him.

He seemed as if he needed privacy, and you were not going to be the one to take it from him. Fortunately, the whiskey bottle was a rock in the awkwardness, keeping you steady even as your head turned from wanting to disappear. It gave you something to do as the elevator moved, and you almost dreaded the moment it would come to a stop.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do. You thought about your parents, about the phone that hadn’t rang today, and you clenched your jaw as the emotions swarmed in.

Min Yoongi wasn’t the only one in a mood.

The elevator halted, slowing on its hinges until it had fully stopped. The doors slid open, and Yoongi walked out. You took a steadying breath before following him, and you looked away as he typed the code to his condo on the pad on his door.

Fancy condo buildings and their technologies be damned.

The pad whirred as it unlocked the door, and a few seconds later, you were in Min Yoongi’s condo. You breathed in, inhaling the remaining scent of a home-cooked meal. It smelled good, infinitely better than what you could cook, and your stomach had the nerve to growl as you watched Yoongi take off his shoes.

You fought the blush that was creeping on your cheeks as Yoongi glanced at you. “Have you not eaten dinner?”

You hadn’t. You had tried getting seaweed soup, but just the thought of eating it alone for your birthday had made you sick to your stomach. The only thing that was fueling your body today was the coffee you had drunk this morning and the sandwich you had forced yourself to eat at lunch time.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll get something to eat at the convenience store after, it shouldn’t be too long anyway.”

He watched you carefully, and you wondered if he could tell you were in a mood. You didn’t even know if he cared. He didn’t really seem as if he did, because he only nodded his head curtly before motioning to some slippers left abandoned by the door.

“You can put these on,” he told you, and then he was walking down the hall, shrugging off his coat.

You watched him go with a confused expression, before you did as told. You hesitated for a good minute before you followed him, almost feeling as if you were intruding on his personal space.

In all truth, you were very much so intruding on his personal space.

You didn’t remember much of his condo from your first visit. He had directly guided you to the studio, which was on the second floor. First door to the left. But tonight he hadn’t gone straight for that, so you followed the sounds until you reached a kitchen area.

Yoongi was putting some food in a bowl. Jajjangmyeon, from the looks of it, and you surveyed him as he slid the bowl in his microwave, before shutting the door and dialing the cooking time.

He turned to look at you, before motioning at some glasses he had put on the island, under the expensive looking chandelier.

“Why don’t you pour us a drink?” he suggested. “I’m reheating a plate for you, I don’t want your stomach to be gurgling while you record.”

You would have been embarrassed had this not been the first kind thing someone had done for you today.

Indeed, you didn’t have a lot of friends. Kept most of them at a distance, and none really knew when your birthday was. Mostly because you hated birthdays and had always thought them to be useless. Just another mark to add on the calendar, another year gone by without any news from your family.

“You don’t have to,” you said, and pink tinted your cheeks as you moved in.

He folded his arms on his chest, leaning against the counter. His eyes held an intensity you shied from as you focused on the glasses instead. “I would do it for anyone I collab with.”

You pursed your lips, nodding slightly, and the room fell silent except for the buzz of the microwave. You stopped in front of the glasses, putting the bottle down next to them. Not really knowing what to say to fill the silence, you uncorked the bottle, and the oaky scent of the whiskey filled your nose.

The familiar smell eased your nerves a little, and you poured the two glasses as Yoongi fished the bowl out of the microwave. He put it down next to you, and you glanced up to meet his face.

You hadn’t realized it before, but Yoongi had pretty features. His face was round, just a little, softening the edges of him, and his eyes were like gems on his face, shining in the light from the chandelier.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, before grabbing one of the glasses to give to him.

He bowed in thanks, taking the glass from you before inhaling the whiskey. “That’s an expensive bottle.”

You chuckled. “I felt bad for coming over so late.”

“It could have waited until tomorrow.”

It wasn’t reproachful, the way he said it. Just a statement, and maybe even a question. As much as he was professional, Min Yoongi wasn’t an asshole. He knew you were going through something, and although he clearly didn’t want to prod, he also didn’t want to pretend as if everything was okay.

You shrugged. “I tend to live my emotions quickly. If you want a raw result, then it had to be tonight.”

He wet his lips, and his eyes fell to the jajjangmyeon. “Then eat so we can get to work.”

*****

You finished recording for the fifth time. Each time Yoongi had suggested something a little different, something he believed would work better for the song. Less angry, more sadness. Find nostalgia and all that same crap.

You expected it when Yoongi said, “Let’s do it one more time. I think we almost have it.”

You glanced at him where he was sitting at his computer. You considered biting his head off, but then you nodded curtly.

He was right, there was way too much anger in your voice. So you shut your eyes, thinking about fifteen-year-old you having to leave your parents’ house because, “we won’t support you if you decide to give up on your life for some stupid dream”. You thought about you, living in the backroom of an old man’s restaurant, working shifts for him in exchange for a place to live, until you had been old enough to move to Seoul. You focused on the loneliness, on the knowledge that there was no one in this world at your side.

It always hit harder on your birthday, didn’t it?

When you felt ready, your eyes fluttered open, and you nodded at Yoongi, indicating that he could start the track you listened to for recording. You let the music fill you, syncing your soul with the chords that filled your ears until you were one with it. Until it was time to sing. Then you started singing, eyes shutting instinctively. You let the emotions guide your voice, let the loneliness formulate the lyrics.

It was over before you even realized it. The track fell silent, and still you kept your eyes shut.

“That was perfect,” Yoongi complimented you.

Even that wasn’t enough to bring your eyes to open. You had to take a few breaths, fighting the urge to break down that had taken over you. When the wave passed, you let your vision adjust to the world again, though it was blurry behind the bitter tears. You blinked them away, ignoring the feeling of Yoongi’s heavy gaze on your profile.

“Fucking finally,” you muttered, and you stepped away from the mic, taking off the headset.

Yoongi followed you with his eyes as you moved closer, putting the headset down next to his keyboard. “Don’t you want to hear?”

“I don’t need to.”

It wasn’t even confidence that motivated your words. Just nostalgia. Yoongi offered you a curt nod, before listening to it himself. He seemed satisfied with the result, because he nodded his head, rolling his chair away from the desk as he folded his arms on his chest. His gaze locked with yours, and a smile ghosted on his lips.

“I’ll send you the final result tomorrow,” he said.

You pursed your lips. “Sounds good. I guess I’ll get going then.”

You had half turned away from him when he spoke up. “Don’t you want another drink? That bottle was expensive.”

It really was. Way too expensive for your light wallet, but Yoongi was a whiskey connoisseur. You couldn’t have shown up with something less. Even if the bottle could have paid for your groceries for at least two weeks.

It wasn’t like you needed to eat three meals a day anyway, right? And with the money you were ought to make from the song, you could tighten the belt for a couple of weeks more.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “It’s late, I shouldn’t stay.”

Yoongi nodded, getting up from his chair. He hadn’t finished his glass yet, and he held your gaze as he downed it in one long gulp. You watched his throat muscle work, before letting your gaze drop to the ground.

“I’ll let you leave with the bottle then,” he said after he swallowed. “I have plenty of them already.”

“You really don’t have to,” you quickly said, with a panicked gaze.

He was smiling now. It took you by surprise. “Then you’re going to stay and drink another glass with me, mmh? We’re allowed to celebrate finishing the song.”

Hopefully it was the loneliness in you that made you say yes, and not the softness that took over Yoongi’s features. He seemed relieved, as if he had been embarrassed to ask, but he recovered quickly guiding you back to the kitchen area downstairs.

This time around, you took your time to admire his condo. To admire the simple elegance of the place. It was far more luxurious than your own apartment, which was a one bedroom with a single working light and water stains on the ceiling. Yoongi’s place was all but that. It was full of light, spotless, with scattered pieces of art to decorate. Nothing too excessive or fancy, and it almost made the condo look a little empty. As if Yoongi hadn’t really taken the time to decorate.

Or maybe he had just recently moved in, and his busy schedule was keeping him from decorating more.

“You’re lucky this is my favourite bottle,” he said with a friendly smile as you stopped next to the kitchen island, where you had left the whiskey earlier.

“Glad my guess was right.”

He wet his lips, before pouring himself another glass. He grabbed yours from the sink, pouring you a glass as well before offering it to you. “And here I thought you were a connoisseur.”

You didn’t have the money to be a connoisseur, so you just offered him a secretive smile, followed by, “Maybe I am”.

He chuckled, and then guided you to the living room. Another spacious room, with a rug in front of the couch you assumed was worth more than everything you owned. You tried not to let it show on your face, but you were pretty sure Yoongi could tell you were impressed.

The feeling was entirely replaced by surprise at the sight of the little dog that was sleeping in a dog bed under the wide window.

“Why haven’t I seen that dog before?” you asked, eyes widened.

“You like dogs?”

You nodded, and you took a couple of steps towards the animal. It almost looked dead where it was lying, but then the little dog looked up at you, blinking away sleepy eyes.

“He’s called Holly,” Yoongi provided as the dog got up, stretching and yawning. “He’s lazy.”

You faked offence for the dog. “Poor little baby, he’s just tired.”

Yoongi laughed, and the sound made you quickly look away from him. As much as it had been unexpected, it did wonders to the sadness that had been clinging to your form all day.

“Sorry Holly.”

It was your turn to laugh as the little dog barked before running to Yoongi, begging to be picked up. Yoongi took a sip of whiskey, before putting his glass down on the coffee table. He sat down on the couch, cuddling the dog to his chest as he got comfortable.

It was so domestic you just stood there, staring at him. He motioned to the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”

It broke the spell, and you blinked a few times before obeying, busying yourself with sipping the whiskey to ignore the way your cheeks were burning.

“How long have you had the dog?” you asked, trying to fill the silence that was threatening to fall into awkwardness.

And as Yoongi started telling you the tale of how he got his dog, you slowly settled yourself more comfortably on the couch, drinking the whiskey as you enjoyed listening to him. He looked far friendlier than you had ever seen him, and it slowly became easy to forget you were just a collaborator.

Maybe if it hadn’t been your birthday, you would have refused the third glass he offered. And maybe, maybe if your mind hadn’t started fogging with the alcohol, you would have refused the fourth.

By the time you started the fifth, you were drunk, and Holly had gone into hiding somewhere, letting you sit closer to Yoongi on the couch. Luckily enough for you, you could stand your alcohol pretty well, and you forced a mask on your features so Yoongi couldn’t tell just how inebriated you were.

Not that he was faring any better. Yoongi had a red flush to his cheeks, and he had run his hand in his hair earlier in a way that had let it ruffled. It made him look good, and you tilted your head to the side as you listened to him tell you about his recent concerts in Vegas.

“It’s funny,” you sighed as he fell silent to drink from his glass. “While you were having shows in Vegas I was busking in Hongdae.”

He swallowed the oaky alcohol, licking his lips dry from the drops that had lingered on them. “I saw videos of you busking.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out a small chuckle. “Please save me the embarrassment.”

He laughed, slightly shaking his head. As if the thought of you being embarrassing was the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’ve been there too.”

An eternity ago, maybe. But the condo around you looked nothing like someone that used to be a busker. “You’ve had far more success than I’ve ever had,” you said, voice low.

His eyes connected with yours, and for a moment all there was was the synchronized beating of your hearts. He was the one to break the contact, and it almost felt as if you were going to fall forward from the rupture.

“You’ll get your success too,” he whispered. “Your music is amazing.”

You blushed, but the flush from the alcohol did a good job at hiding it. “I do hope so.”

A smile played on his lips as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. He played with the rim of the glass, almost pensively. “Army will love your music.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “For giving me this opportunity.”

“You deserve it.”

His gaze moved back to yours. Yoongi had pretty eyes, deep eyes that told tales of suffering and healing. He had gone through a lot, to get where he was now. From the interviews you had listened to, you actually had a similar past to his. And you felt understood, as he gazed at you. With a softness to his eyes you had never really seen anywhere else.

Min Yoongi had experienced the worst this world has to offer, but he had also experienced the best. You could only hope your turn would come someday.

You took a sip, holding his gaze for a moment, before cowering away. “You know,” you started. And you didn’t really know what to say. Only thought he might understand. “It was my birthday, today.”

He straightened, surprise moving on his drunken features. “Was it?”

You nodded.

“Happy birthday,” he said, with a grave voice.

You shifted a little closer to him, only because he was looking at you with too much intensity for you to resist. The air turned warm, hot, filled with expectancy.

“Thank you.” You wet your lips, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Thank you for letting me record it.”

“I hope it helped.”

Another nod of your head, as you took yet another sip of the whiskey. This time mostly because the feeling inside of you needed to be ignored. To be avoided at all costs.

Too bad alcohol kills the inhibition, right?

You couldn’t even tell who did the first move. All you knew was that your glass was snatched from your hands, put down on the coffee table and then you were tasting the alcohol on Yoongi’s lips. The kiss was ravaging, taking your loneliness and burning it down, until all you could feel was Yoongi’s body under your hungry hands.

His own hands were all over you too. On your back, on the nape of your neck, in your hair. One large hand sneaked to the front until it had wrapped around your breast, and you moaned in his mouth. You grabbed a handful of his hair and sucked on his bottom lip as he pulled you closer.

You climbed on his lap, and you held yourself on his shoulders as your mouth found his again, kissing him with no restraint, no inhibition. Min Yoongi was a damn good kisser. It made you ache with want, as you imagined the other things his wicked tongue could do…

The hand on your breast hadn’t really moved since it had found it, so you put one of yours above it, pushing it harder. Searching for more pressure, more friction, anything that would make you forget the loneliness of the day.

Maybe Yoongi was trying to forget something too. You didn’t really care. It wasn’t like your brain could think past this moment or the next. All you were focused on was the now, and the bulge you were currently perched on.

You grinded your hips, probably a little too hard, and Yoongi grunted, pulling you closer, grabbing your hips until he could hold you in place. Yet he didn’t resist as you rocked your hips again, and the hold he had on your hips only turned you on even more.

You moved from his mouth to his neck, trailing wet kisses down until the collar of his shirt, and then up to his ear. He threw his head back to rest it on the couch, exposing the pretty column of his neck. You sucked on his Adam’s apple next, before finding his lips for yet another heated kiss.

As you kissed, tongues entwined, your hands moved down his chest, searching for the hem of his shirt. You pulled away from him just long enough to rid him of the piece of clothing, and you didn’t even look back to see where you had dropped it. You were too busy crashing your mouth on his again, chasing the remnants of the whiskey. He kissed you back with the same intensity, his large hands still holding your hips, though he let you have control of your movements.

The thought he was letting you do whatever you wanted made your blood sing, and you pulled away to kneel between his legs. He was breathing heavily as his eyes opened, meeting your gaze while you were working on his belt. You struggled with it for a bit, and he offered a helping hand as you moved to caress the length of him through his jeans. He instinctively bucked his hips, and you put your face down on his thigh as he finished unbuckling his belt.

You looked up at him innocently, before begrudgingly lifting your head so you could take off his pants. He pushed up from the couch just enough for the jeans to move under his ass, and soon enough all that was left between you and him was the white fabric of his boxer briefs. You barely hesitated before kissing the hardening length, and his hands clenched into fists on each side of him. It made you feel wicked, and you replaced your lips with your teeth, though you didn’t bite down.

Your goal wasn’t to hurt him after all. You just wanted to see how far Min Yoongi would go before begging you to suck his dick. So you teased him, teased the sensitive cock that was growing harder from all your ministrations. But you never gave in, never pulled the underwear down.

Yoongi breathed out an annoyed breath, and you smirked up at him. “Is there something that you want?”

His mouth fell open, and he looked startled that you asked, as if it wasn’t already clear what he wanted.

You landed another kiss on the tip of his dick, licking at the wet spot where his precum had leaked through the fabric. “Don’t you want something?”

He nodded.

“You’ll have to tell me with words,” you purred, and the smirk on your lips turned devilish as you pulled his underwear down, just enough for his cock to rest free on his stomach. You waited for him to say something, tutting as he just remained silent, with that same widened gaze as before. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Suck my dick,” he said with a small voice.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t there something missing?”

He almost looked scared for a moment. Intimidated for sure. Even if he was the big name between the two of you, you currently had him wrapped around your finger.

“Please?” he tried.

“Good boy.”

You finally gave in to your desires and his, eyes dropping to the dick in front of you. As everything that came with Yoongi, his cock was pretty. Large enough that you knew it’d be a stretch, with a pretty tip that shone red. A bead of precum appeared on the slit, and you immediately leaned in, licking it.

Yoongi hissed, and from the corner of your eyes you could see his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.

“You can touch me, you know,” you told him, grabbing one of his hands.

You meant to put it in your hair, but instead Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hand, his long fingers keeping you from moving.

Well, this was a start. You didn’t usually hold hands when you were sucking someone’s dick, but if that was what he wanted, then you were happy to oblige.

You got to work, licking a long stripe from the base of his dick up to the head, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive part before letting your lips close around it. You sucked on it, resting your tongue flat against the length of him before you went down, slowly, taking in as much of him as you could. You stopped when he hit the back of your throat, and he grunted once again. His free hand flew to your hair, pulling it to the side so he could look at you.

You moved back up, playing with his frenulum as he was almost out before going down again, quicker this time.

Yoongi never forced you to suck his dick. Only hissed and grunted, as you worked on him, his dick hardening in your mouth with every bob of your head. He tasted good, and you started going faster, just to hear more of the pretty sounds he let out when he hit the back of your throat.

You moaned around him, testing the waters to see if he liked that. Most guys usually did, and Yoongi wasn’t any different. He met your gaze, and he looked spent for a moment, a panting mess under the ministrations of your mouth.

He licked his lips as you hollowed your cheeks, drawing circles on his dick before you pulled out. You sat back on your heels, jerking him off quickly as you met his gaze.

“I want to sit on your face.”

If he was surprised, he gave you no indications of it. Only let go of your hand so he could lie down on the couch. You let out a small laugh, cocking your head to the side.

“You’ll have to undress me first.”

“Right,” he muttered, and he sat up quickly, hands reaching for you.

You couldn’t resist moving closer until you could press your lips on his. He wasn’t expecting it, and it took him a few seconds before he was kissing you back with the same fervor you had applied to his dick. Which was a lot, and you moaned in his mouth as his tongue found yours. You let him have dominance this time, just because his hands were undressing you, unbuttoning your pants and fighting to get them down your legs.

You pulled away from the kiss so you could stand up, and a second later your pants were pooling around your ankles. You weren’t wearing particularly attractive panties, so you took them off yourself, and the piece of clothing met your pants on the ground a second before you were stepping out of the pile.

You took off your shirt yourself as you were climbing on his lap again, and you grinded on his dick once before motioning to the couch. “Lay down.”

He wet his lips, nodding a single time before he started moving. You stood just long enough for him to be able to lay down, and then you were already climbing back on top of him, legs on each side of his face. He grabbed your thighs as you lowered yourself on him, and the first lap of his tongue on you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You hadn’t been wrong. Yoongi knew how to use that wicked tongue of his. Dipping it deep inside of you to get a taste, before focusing on your clit. Torturing it with a light pressure, until you grinded into his face to seek for more. He got the message then and he flattened his tongue, pressing into you harder, lapping you in time with the grinding of your hips.

Unfortunately for you, you had never really been able to come when you were drunk. No matter how hard you chased the high, it always evaded you. Yoongi was by far the best you had had in a while. Or it was just the fact he was Min Yoongi, and he was pliant to all your wishes. Listening to you when you told him to press circles on your clit, obeying when you suggested sucking instead.

He really was wrapped around your finger, wasn’t he?

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you praised him, the sentence finishing in a moan. It only made him work harder, and your legs were shaking by the time you spoke again. “Do you have condoms?”

He couldn’t reply. Not when you were riding his face like that. So you reluctantly moved down his body, and he gulped in air as you sat back on his dick.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

You let out an unexpected laugh, and a smile appeared on his lips. It disappeared as soon as you crashed your mouth on his, and he grabbed your face to kiss you deeply. His chin was wet from your juice, but you didn’t care. You tasted all of yourself on him, licking him clean until you were satisfied.

When you sat back on him, he had a dazed expression on his features. His hair was a mess all around his head, and you let out another small laugh as you bent, just enough for your hands to reach the strands, taming them gently.

His eyes had gone dark when you straightened again. You wondered if what you had done was wrong, but you didn’t want to know. So you moved your hips, circling on his dick, and he hissed again.

“Do you have condoms?” you repeated the question.

His hands rested on your thighs, caressing them up and down as he said, “In my bedroom”.

You grinded again. “As much as I’d like for you to fuck me raw, we should get a condom.” You got up, albeit reluctantly, and you offered him a hand.

The perspective that he was about to fuck you probably chased whatever darkness had invaded him, because he grabbed your hand as he stood, before bending down to take his whiskey glass too. He chugged it, and you only had time to take a hold of yours before he was pulling you behind him.

You drank small sips of your glass as you followed Yoongi, eyes falling to his ass. It was pretty, and you were once again struck with how everything was pretty when it came to Min Yoongi. For all the rough edges of his professional personality, Yoongi was pretty, with softness behind the mask.

And you could glimpse at the softness, as he pulled you behind him, uncaring that you were both naked halfway up his staircase. His thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly, and you held his hand a little tighter.

It did feel less lonely, all of a sudden.

Min Yoongi’s bedroom was dark. Walls painted in a dark shade of grey, comforter ink black. The only light thing in his room was the canvas over the headboard of his bed. A painting, abstract at that, in shades of white and beige that seemed like a beacon in the darkness of the wall. The furniture in the room was black too, and the tiled ceramic floor completed the décor in its own shade of grey, almost matching the paint on the wall.

The room was tidy, so tidy you weren’t even sure anyone lived here. But then Yoongi let go of your hand, carelessly walking to a night table, and his gaze slid to you as you stopped at the entrance.

You cocked your head to the side, downing the rest of your glass with your eyes still holding on to his gaze. His chest moved quickly, up and down, as if he was out of breath. And maybe he was, and the predatory look you set on him made adrenaline run through his blood. He wet his lips, and his gaze dropped, before sliding to his bedside table.

He fished a condom out of it, and he was about to tear the package open when you talked.

“Let me do it.”

He froze, and then a smirk moved on his lips. It made everything in you sing with burning lust, and you crossed the distance between the two of you. You dropped your glass on the bedside table, before biting in your bottom lip as you turned to face him. He held out the package for you to take, and you took it from his long fingers. You had expected his hand to drop at his side, but he instead moved it between the two of you, cupping your breast through the bralette you were wearing.

You gulped, instinctively stepping closer to press his hand harder against you, just the way you liked it. He understood, and his other hand cupped your other breast. He massaged them, hard, pinching your nipples through the fabric of the bralette. The friction of the fabric on the sensitive buds had stars forming on the periphery of your vision, and you let out a moan as you tore the package of the condom open, fishing the actual condom out with eager fingers.

You didn’t have time to reach down to his dick before Yoongi moved on his knees. He sucked on the skin of your thigh, hard, leaving a purple bruise behind that he soothed with a kiss.

“Let me just eat you out more, mmh?”

You didn’t have the ability to say no, so you sat on his bed and pulled his head closer to your heat, other hand clutching the condom so it wouldn’t fall on the comforter.

Yoongi’s tongue truly was skilled. And it moved fast on your clit. You could see the mirage of an orgasm on the horizon, but the alcohol in your blood kept it away, frustratingly so. Even when Yoongi slid two fingers inside of you, curling them to hit a sweet spot inside of you. It felt divine, and you moaned for him, telling him just how good he was. It made him work harder, and he eventually whined, resting his head on your thigh to look at you.

“I want to feel you on my dick,” he said, and he sounded almost shy. As if voicing his desires was forbidden.

You bit your lip again, letting out a ragged breath as your heart beat wildly in your chest, almost drowning out his words. “Then get on the bed.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly laid down next to you, stroking his dick as you kneeled next to him. You swatted the hand away, and he smirked again as you started rolling the condom down his length. You jerked him off a couple of times when you were done, before climbing on his lap.

He watched you carefully. As if he was only then realizing what was happening. He still let you position him at your entrance, and you sunk down, just enough for his tip to start parting your folds.

“Can I?” you asked, stopping there.

He wet his lips. “Please.”

It was your turn to smirk wickedly, as you sunk down on him until most of him was inside of you. It stretched, but he had prepared you so well he slid right in, and you moaned as he bottomed out.

“You’re big,” you praised him. “What a good fucking boy.”

His hands flew to your hips, fingers digging in the supple skin. “You say that as if you’re not fucking wet for me.”

Oh. Min Yoongi did have a dominant bone in him.

“Aish,” you moaned. “You’re going to fuck me, mmh?”

He sat up a little, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you down with him. “If you ask so nicely.”

You were surprised by the small laugh that fell from your mouth, but it quickly died as Yoongi started jackhammering his hips against yours, his dick fucking into your walls so deliciously, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He held you tight against him as he fucked you, and your dominant side returned as he let out a moan in your ear.

Your hand snaked between your bodies, until it was wrapped around his throat, finding the two sides of it. You cut the blood supply to his brain, fingers digging in the arteries, and he let out a louder moan this time, something that somehow resembled your name. Still he didn’t slow down, and you sucked on the side of his jaw, mouth needing to do something to muffle the pleasured sounds that kept tumbling from it.

You released your grip on Yoongi’s throat after a time, and you moved until you could catch his lips for a quick yet languid kiss. You swallowed the grunts he let out before sitting up on him. He only then slowed the roll of his hips, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours.

“Let me fuck myself on you a little,” you said, head cocked to the side. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Please.”

You didn’t need more to start moving, slowly, in a dance that had to be frustrating to him after the relentless pace he had set. Yet it felt heavenly, stretching all of you wide open, the drag of his dick along your velvet walls making you reach for something to hold on to. It turned out to be your breasts, and your hands slipped under the bralette as you palmed yourself.

“So fucking good,” you breathed, and Yoongi’s large hands settled on your hips again, guiding you on him.

Making you roll your hips more, impaling you on him until he was fully in.

“I think I could fuck you all night,” he declared, and he seemed astonished. As if he hadn’t expected the ordeal to feel this good. And it did feel good, far more than you had ever thought it could.

“Hope you have good stamina then,” you said, half teasing, but the lustful look adorning his gaze told you that he just might fuck you all night.

“For you?” He wet his lips, moaning as you circled your hips in just the right way. “Fuck, I could come like this.”

Surprisingly enough, he didn’t let you continue. He stilled your hips, before sitting up again. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and the following moment disappeared in your mind, dizziness taking the forefront of the scene as Yoongi spun you until you were lying down, with him on top of you.

It took him a few seconds to realize he might have moved you too quickly, but he soon said, “Are you okay?”

You huffed out a breath, eyes fluttering closed. “That was dizzying.”

He chuckled, and he pushed back inside of you. You hadn’t felt him fall out, but you sure as hell felt him as he slowly slid in, all the way.

“I wanted to see what you look like under me.”

You opened your eyes, and you were relieved to see the world was not turning as much anymore. “Like the sight?” you teased, and your hand shot between you to press circles on your clit, lazily.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he was thrusting into you again, fast and hard.

You cried out a delighted moan and you timed your ministrations on your clit with his movements, until everything seemed to blend in together.

Yoongi fucked you for a while. He did have good stamina, and the more you praised him the more he kept going, with sweat dripping from his forehead, wetting locks of his hair. He looked sinfully good, the sounds he made a melody you had never imagined you’d hear, one that mixed with your own moans until it was a song, of passion and desire and everything in between.

You couldn’t quite tell how long it lasted. Only that Yoongi’s movement grew sloppier, his breathing ragged as he bent down to hide his face in your neck. He sucked a spot on your skin, and your hand found the nape of his neck to hold him in place.

“I think we’re too drunk,” you murmured as Yoongi slid in and out, slowly, but never fully stopping.

“You feel so good.”

You chuckled, and your fingers drew circles on his scalp for a few seconds before you replied, “We won’t come”.

Yoongi persisted for a time, dragging his length inside of you until you started digging your nails in the skin of his back. “Right.” He thrusted in twice more, before stopping all the way in, his dick fully impaling you. “You just feel so good.”

You stayed like that for a time, unmoving, your breaths in sync as your hearts slowly returned to a normal rhythm. Yoongi’s dick had gone soft by the time he pulled out, yet he remained on top of you, breathing in your scent.

“I should go,” you said after what felt like an eternity. Your eyelids were drooping, and you held him close to you as you spoke the words.

“Stay for the night,” Yoongi murmured, his lips moving against your neck. His voice was deep, scratchy, and it made you want to be closer to him, until you were blended with his soul.

He was comfort. For a reason unknown, Min Yoongi was comfort personified, and you really didn’t want to go. Even if you were slowly coming down from the buzz of alcohol. You sighed, before pushing him to the side.

“You’re crushing me,” you admitted, and he let out a small chuckle, before rolling to the side.

He settled next to you, an arm draped around your stomach, face nuzzled into your neck. His proximity felt strange. For someone that usually seemed closed off, Min Yoongi appeared to have let you in… tonight.

Was it the song, or the fact that you had been alone on your birthday? Had he found pity in you, and tried to gift you with his own form of comfort? It made you feel pathetic, but his steady breathing as he fell asleep calmed you down, melted your worries away, until sleep found you in its hold too.

Yoongi didn’t let go of you while he slept.

*****

Dawn was grey. Colourless, as if the sun was the source of all colours in this world. As if its absence kept the colours at bay, changed them into shades of black and grey that melted together in a strange picture. It was unfamiliar, foreign, as if you weren’t supposed to be awake at this hour.

It took you a moment to realize the greyness wasn’t from dawn, but from the colour on the walls. A moment longer for the pounding in your head to awaken, reminding you of the alcohol you had ingested the night before.

You weren’t at home. In fact, you were lying on a mattress far more comfortable than anything you could ever own, in a luxurious yet sparsely decorated room that was far from your own.

The comforter had slipped from your body as you slept, and you shivered from the chill air. A breeze was playing in the curtains by the window, and it smelled of rain, though the panes of the window were still dry. You turned your head to the side, afraid of the sight that would come.

Min Yoongi looked like a prince, lying next to you. His hair formed a crown around his head where it rested on the pillow, and his soft features looked regal in the morning light. His mouth was slightly opened, and little snores came out of him each time he exhaled.

His hand had fallen from your stomach at some point in the night. It rested next to you now, fingers reaching towards you but not really touching. As if he had never meant to let go in the first place. Still, you were glad he had.

Because with the morning, reality rushed back in.

It ceased you, grabbed your heart and squeezed it in your chest as you watched him sleep for a moment longer. Just because he was peaceful, and you wished to revel in the peace. Refused to let reality crush this moment, not before you had it committed to memory, locking it up in a safe corner of your heart.

But when it was locked up, you took the key and threw it away, never to be found again.

You blinked the grogginess away, eyes searching around you for your clothes. It took you a few seconds to remember you had discarded all of the fabric downstairs last night, except your bralette, and you winced at the thought that you would have to go down there naked to get dressed again.

You sat up, shivering once again in the chill air, goosebumps raising on your flesh until your skin looked pricked by it. You glanced at Yoongi before getting up. The song came back to your mind – the gut-wrenching lyrics screaming of loneliness, of never finding solace in people’s company, of seeking for a family that never comes.

Loneliness felt worse in the grey light of dawn. And right on cue, rain started splattering on the window, drowning out the sounds of Yoongi sleeping, and the rustle of the sheets as you slipped out of the bed.

The ceramic floor was warm under your feet, and you tiptoed your way to the door. Not daring to look back, barely even daring to breathe. You didn’t want Yoongi to wake up, not when you were about to leave without saying goodbye.

For some reason, you thought he might understand. You thought Yoongi could understand that loneliness sometimes needed to be dealt with alone. No matter how salvaging last night had been for the lone heart in your chest, the morning called for something else. For reality to settle back in. What had happened last night was unprofessional, inherently so, and it filled you with dread.

Maybe that was the reason you were fleeing after all.

You reached the door, hand settling on the knob. You couldn’t resist looking back then, as if you just needed to make sure that this moment had been real. Yoongi’s hands had moved a little while you were walking away, fingers reaching for your warmth. A frown moved on his features as he didn’t find it, but they relaxed as he exhaled loudly.

He was still sound asleep, and infinitely peaceful. You hoped nothing would ever break his peace.

You slipped out of the bedroom, shutting the door soundlessly behind you before walking down to the living room, where you put on your clothes. You had half a thought of leaving a note behind, to explain why you hadn’t stayed, but you didn’t know where Yoongi might have paper in his condo, and you didn’t want to linger around long enough for him to wake up.

You were putting on your shoes when he appeared at the top of the stairs, draped in a white robe to keep the cold at bay. His features were back in the same icy mask he had sported at the beginning of the night yesterday, and you gulped as he stared you down.

“You’re leaving early,” he stated as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms on his chest.

His hair was a mess from last night – long gone was the crown you had woken up to see. He looked unkempt, and there was a line from his pillow on his face. It made him look human, terribly so, and you felt bad for wanting to leave.

“I don’t think I belong here,” you admitted.

With a small voice, as small as the fear inside of you. Because yes, you were lonely. But being here in this too big condo with someone that was just supposed to be a work collaborator… it made you feel out of place.

A line appeared between Yoongi’s brows, and he pushed up from the wall to start walking down the stairs. “I invited you to sleep over, you have all the rights to be here.”

You wet your lips, chasing the frustration of not being understood away. “I mean, we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” You watched as Yoongi finished walking down the stairs, sitting on the very last step. “It was fun, I won’t deny it, but it was unprofessional.”

He leaned against the wall again, looking at you with a gaze that made you feel naked, as if he was seeing right through your soul. You turned your head away, wanting to flee but not having the courage to do so when his eyes were on you. As if, if you stayed unmoving, maybe the whole situation would disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t see you anymore, the way that he was seeing you now.

“It was,” he agreed, to your surprise. “I’m not big on regrets though, I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.”

“I-” you caught yourself before you added more.

I what? I don’t regret it? I’m not big on regrets either? Why then did this morning taste awfully like regret?

Yoongi just held your gaze, not prodding but visibly expecting you to continue. Maybe you owed him as much.

“I’m just afraid it will ruin our professional relationship,” you admitted.

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I thought so. I can always push back releasing the song if you prefer.”

Your eyes widened, right as your heart stopped in your chest. Did he know how much you needed the money? Did he know that you were on the verge of giving up on your dreams because you couldn’t afford your apartment?

“I don’t know,” you said, and it was true. You didn’t know if you wanted to risk not releasing the song, but you didn’t know if you wanted to keep working with Yoongi in the immediate future either.

You needed to get rid of the loneliness alone after all.

“Then think about it,” Yoongi suggested. “I can always pay for all the work that you did, and if you feel like releasing it some day you just let me know.”

You pursed your lips. It was a good idea. A decent suggestion, yet it felt wrong. Because releasing the song was certain to open up the world to you. Or so you had been hoping. Could you give up on that dream?

“I will,” you said. “I’ll think about it, and I’ll let you know.”

Yoongi nodded, before stretching his legs in front of him. “Can we talk before you leave though?”

You didn’t know what he wanted to talk about. Only knew that the longer you were to stay here, the more the loneliness was going to drown you.

“What is there to talk about?”

His features turned grave. You were struck that he looked as if he was going to announce the end of the world, as if the Earth was about to stop turning and you’d all crash into a wall at eighty miles per hour.

“I have to admit something,” he said. His eyes found the floor again, though he had been avoiding your gaze for a moment now. “I have someone in my life.”

A lump formed in your throat. A disgusting, guilty lump that tasted like bile. “You cheated on someone with me?”

He slowly shook his head no. “We’re on a break. I just thought you deserved to know.”

The loneliness was real. It was a feeling you knew all too well, in all of its labyrinths and corners. It wove its way in every crevice of your soul, and God knew your soul was filled with crevices. With cracks, from all the times you had needed to glue yourself back together.

“Oh.”

It was all you could voice as the enormity of his revelation dawned on you. Was that why he had looked upset yesterday? Had he tried to forget his own loneliness by drowning in you?

Had it worked?

“I’m sorry.”

Min Yoongi did look apologetic, but you found him a coward. A coward for avoiding your gaze like he was right now, for looking devastated sitting there on the stairs. And maybe he truly was devastated, if he was on a break with the person that he loved.

Why had you come when you were at your most vulnerable?

“Thank you for your honesty,” you said, voice blanched with the horror in you. Because you were horrified, to think you had slept with a man that belonged to another. Though the pounding in your head reminded you that it was alcohol that had caused the ordeal, that it wasn’t you, and you clung to that thought.

Because if your inhibitions hadn’t been lowered, you would have never slept with Min Yoongi.

He remained silent for a little eternity, and then somewhere in himself he found the courage to look at you again. You almost wished he hadn’t.

“Do you want me to send you the song today, still?”

It was a fair question. One that could bring you back in the charted territory of your professional relationship. It felt safer, and you let out a shaky breath to calm the pit in your chest.

The pit had always been there, you reckoned. It just was harder to ignore on this dreadful dawn.

“Sure,” you answered, though you had no intention to listen to it.

No, it was probably better to put this all in the past. To forget the comfort Yoongi had brought to you last night. You almost wished you had been able to run before he’d woken up, but you weren’t a coward. This conversation would have been needed at some point.

“Is there something you want to say?” Yoongi enquired, gently. With a voice that sounded far older than he was, far wiser than he had to be.

“I don’t know.” You parted your lips as you wanted to continue speaking, but nothing came out. So you shut your mouth, rocking back and forth on your heels as anxiety spiked through you, replacing the initial horror. “I am sorry it happened.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. As I told you, I don’t do regrets anymore.”

You would have liked to be able to tell if he was lying, but Min Yoongi was an unreadable book when he wanted to be.

“I hope you fix your relationship,” you said. You really did, if only to forget last night had ever happened. He remained silent, lips stretched in a tight smile. “I…” you trailed off, and it was your turn to lower your gaze to the floor. “I appreciated last night, though.”

He wet his lips. “I won’t lie to you. I appreciated it too.”

“But life is life, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question, one he didn’t reply to. “I guess I’ll go.”

He sighed, loud enough for you to hear. It wasn’t an annoyed sigh. No, it sounded as if he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

So much for not regretting, uh?

“I’ll send you the song,” he reiterated. “Please take care of yourself.”

It made a drop of anger fall in the ocean of loneliness you were drowning in. Because you had shown him the darkness in you last night, and he had hidden the truth from you. And maybe he didn’t even owe it to you, you just wished he had said something last night, before it was too late.

Before your body knew that it was molded to fit his perfectly.

“Will do,” you replied curtly.

You turned away from him then, hoping he couldn’t see the hurt in your eyes. You didn’t even know if you were allowed to be hurt. Didn’t even know if you were actually hurt, or if you just needed to be alone.

In all the misery that it brought you, loneliness was your comfort zone.

*****

The days had stretched into eternity, busking keeping your mind from rushing back to the events you had partaken in with Min Yoongi. Minhyuk had been appalled, when you had told him that the song would likely never be released. You had told him enough about what had happened with Yoongi, without ever really confirming that you had slept together, yet Minhyuk hadn’t let it go.

He only had when you had received the money Min Yoongi had promised to pay, earlier this afternoon. It was an astronomical sum for someone who got by with busking. As your contract with Minhyuk asked for, you had shared half the sum with him, and still it left you with far more money than you had ever owned.

Min Yoongi hadn’t offered an explanation as to why he had paid you so much money. And you hadn’t asked for one yet, choosing to go to Hongdae to change your mind instead. To remind you that busking was who you were, even if you hadn’t rented an area for tonight.

No, tonight you would just walk around and watch people live their lives. Happy, smiling, unaware of the abyss you felt like you were drowning in.

Seeing Min Yoongi on your birthday had been a mistake. The anger had turned into something else, something far more intimidating. Disgust with yourself, with your acts and your choices. Regret that you hadn’t stopped when you should have, and that he hadn’t said anything before it was too late.

You wondered if he was back with the person that owned his heart. If you leaving like that had pushed him back in their arms, if their relationship had found grounds to work again.

You were jealous. But also hurt… because Yoongi had been comfort. You wished you had told him, wish he had known what it had meant for you to be with him on your birthday like that. When you laid awake at night, sleep evading you, you wondered if it would have made a difference.

Would Min Yoongi have let you go on that dreadful dawn if you had told him?

You couldn’t know. But then again, sometimes, during those same sleepless nights, you wondered if it was too late. If there was a chance you could tell him. If he had chosen not to get back with his partner.

If he too sometimes laid awake at night thinking about your body against his.

Loneliness was making you go crazy inside.

You sighed, taking a deep breath of the fresh evening air. Hongdae was lively. Filled with laughter and chatter. And with your own dark cloud, that seemed to loom over you wherever you went now.

You were at a low point in life. You were aware of it. It was hard to see the good in things when you had turned your back on the little sense of company you had been able to find in Yoongi. Though he hadn’t really been company, no? Just a brief connection in a sea of temporary people.

Only Minhyuk stayed around, and he only did because he worked for you.

But the money… The money was more than you had ever thought you’d have. It made you wonder, was that what celebrities made when they worked together? Why such astronomical sums for people that didn’t even need money in the first place?

Or maybe Yoongi had known that you were struggling with money. Maybe that was his way of apologizing. You weren’t prideful enough to hate him for it. As a matter of fact, you had been debating calling him to thank him, or even going to his place. Maybe that was why you were in Hongdae after all.

Long walks to clear your mind usually always worked, didn’t they?

A couple in front of you burst out laughing, and the guy grabbed his girlfriend’s hand, pulling her in a hug. Public displays of affection were rare in Korea, but Hongdae held a different crowd. A looser one, that didn’t live up to the expectations of elders. It was a crowd you found you rather enjoyed, especially as you busked and they enjoyed your music.

You brought happiness to their lives, didn’t you? Why then was happiness evading you?

You scoffed, and the guy threw you a glance. Your eyes dipped to the floor, and you almost winced in embarrassment. You thought about telling him that you weren’t scoffing because of him, but it would have been useless, wouldn’t it?

His attention was already back on his girlfriend, as if he was but the mere moon and she the Earth. It was cute. It really was, in a heart-wrenching kind of way.

So much for dealing with loneliness alone, right?

You wanted to talk to Yoongi. Wanted to thank him, wanted to let him know he had been the first to make you feel something in a long time. Hell, you hadn’t had sex in over a year before him.

Could you just go and talk to him? Could you tell him that you had been too shaken that morning, and that you hadn’t been able to tell him the thoughts in your skull? Your imprisoned mind, clustered in a dark corner of your head, had been subdued to your loneliness.

Surely he would understand.

A group of friends walked past you, and their joy felt contagious. You wanted to cling to the feeling of your lips stretching into a smile, wanted to use the warmth they carried themselves with to forget the cold in you.

Being a lyricist made you far too dramatic for your own good, didn’t it? Because you could see around yourself, people that were alone too. Walking with their hands in their pockets, with light in their eyes as they watched the scene around you. It didn’t have to be a sad scene. You didn’t have to cling to the sadness.

It didn’t matter that it was your comfort zone. If you ever wanted to get better, you had to stop using it as a shield. Had to shrug the coat off, and step into the summer warmth, leaving the winter cold behind.

Only, it was still cold at this time of the year.

You thought about Minhyuk. Minhyuk, who had always believed in you. Who trusted that you would make it someday, that he just had to encourage you in the process. Minhyuk, who had fallen in love with one of his friends, and had a beautiful love story to call his now.

There was happiness in this world. And you weren’t selfish enough to believe you didn’t deserve happiness. It was just hard to find it when your family had forgotten about you, when you woke up to learn he belonged to another.

You didn’t have feelings for Min Yoongi. At least you tried to convince yourself of it. You didn’t really know what you felt. Only that what had happened on your birthday had to be caused by more than just the alcohol. Because it hadn’t been your first time being vulnerable and drunk in a man’s company. It had been your first time jumping on that man though.

You had enjoyed working with him. Had found his work ethic inspiring, and had felt as if your soul was singing whenever you worked on music together. There was something in Min Yoongi that resonated in you, as if his existence triggered a harmonious frequency inside of you. A terribly unprofessional harmonious frequency, yet you hadn’t found friction to slow it down. Only had your treacherous thoughts and sleepless nights.

Maybe talking to him would release you. Would free the mind that was clustered in your skull, would let it fly into the sky again, to soar above clouds and mountains and valleys.

You probably needed it. Needed to say thank you for the money, and tell him you would find the strength to listen to the song someday. Just not when you were already so vulnerable.

And a hidden, dark corner of your heart also wanted to tell him how you had felt that night. Wanted to tell him he was comfort personified, and that you were thankful you had had the chance to experience it, even if it had been but a mere, fleeting moment in your life.

A romantic through and through, weren’t you?

Or maybe it was just Hongdae’s air, and the ambiance it held. Of happiness, that you could find if only you reached out far enough.

And life was about risk, wasn’t it? If you never talked to Min Yoongi, never told him the thoughts in your imprisoned mind, then you would be stuck with them for the rest of your life. Stuck with their decaying form, until they turned your memory into a prison in and of itself too.

You didn’t want the memory of Min Yoongi to turn into decay. Wanted to remember the good parts of it and let go of the bad. He was the one saying he didn’t do regrets anymore, wasn’t he?

Maybe you didn’t have to regret this either. But for that, you needed to tell him the feelings in your mind.

You sighed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Long walks really did wonders to you, didn’t they?

You should have left your apartment before.

Instead of beating yourself up for it, you took a few steadying breaths, before heading straight to the nearest subway station. It wasn’t particularly late, and by chance you’d get to his place before the hour would be indecent.

It wasn’t like night hours were indecent to Min Yoongi. He was a night owl, much like you were too. Him letting you in his condo the last time at such a late hour was proof enough of it.

It was in that mindset that you made your way to his condo, with no gifts this time. Considering where the last time had led you, you didn’t want to risk offering him anything. You just wanted to talk. To tell him thank you for that night. For making you realize that you weren’t quite alone in this big wide universe.

This time, Min Yoongi wasn’t outside when you arrived. It occurred to you that there was a possibility he wasn’t even home, but then again he had always come off to you as the kind of person that usually stayed in most of the time. So you walked into the building, nodding your head curtly at the security.

It was the same person you had seen the two other times you were here, and you had become familiar enough to them so that they’d let you pass without asking a question. You were glad for it – you didn’t know what you would have told them anyway. You had no business being here, belonged to an entire other world.

Still, you found yourself on Min Yoongi’s door mat. Fist hovering in front of the door, not daring to knock or ring the bell. You stayed there for a good five minutes, trying to assemble enough courage to make a move, but all you could do was stare.

It seemed staring was enough, because five minutes later, after you rang the bell, the door turned on its hinges, and Min Yoongi appeared.

His gaze widened, quite at the same time as yours did. Blood flushed your cheeks, and you let your hand fall at your side.

“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, an echo of your greeting the last time you had seen him. Your lips stretched into an easy smile, and you wondered if your heart picking up its rate in your chest was a normal physiological response to the presence of Min Yoongi.

Maybe it was.

Yoongi didn’t move. In fact, he looked as if he was holding his breath, and as if all colour had leached from his features.

You understood why when a small figure appeared behind him, and all colour leached from your features next.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and her eyes slid to you. “Who’s that?”

Your brain went empty. Entirely empty. There was the sound of ringing, but everything else was distant, as your vision blurred on the edges, until all there was was a tunnel leading right to Min Yoongi’s pretty features.

The moment stretched into infinity, and your heart rocked against your ribcage three times before Yoongi spoke. You didn’t hear his voice, only saw the lips you had been kissing just a couple of weeks ago moving. And then the pretty girl disappeared from view, features casted into a frown, and all that was left was Min Yoongi and you. Him, inside of his home; you, in the hallway.

It felt like two entire different worlds.

“I didn’t know you were going to come,” he said.

Sensations rushed back to you, and your gaze dropped to the floor.

“I…” you trailed off.

“Is it about the song?”

All you could do was nod, as you blanched standing there. And you did blanch, as if all your blood had exited your body. It was dizzying, and oxygen felt foreign in your lungs.

He led you inside. Right to the studio. You could hear the girl talking as you made your way there, likely to the dog from the sounds of it. And then Yoongi shut the door of his studio, and the sounds faded to nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

It was all he said, as you just stood there not knowing where to look. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if it was right for you to be in here.

“Oh,” you let out. You wet your lips – had they been so dry this whole time? “I came to say thank you for the money.”

He watched you carefully for a few beats of silence, before replying, “You deserved it”.

You chuckled. Bitterly, achingly, or somewhere in between. “I’m not sure I’m worth all of that.”

“I paid you the amount of money your work is worth,” he declared simply. He moved in the room, sitting in the chair in front of the desk. “It was the right thing to do.”

You slowly nodded, before glancing over your shoulder. “Is that…”

You didn’t have to finish your sentence for him to understand. He looked apologetic, once your gaze settled on him again.

“It is,” he confirmed.

It had no business hurting as bad as it did, and yet you felt as if your heart was ripped in two. “Oh.”

His hands were folded in his lap, his shoulders hung low. He looked horrified, somehow, as if only then realizing that all that had happened was wrong. Wrong, and the kind of thing one should regret.

“Have you listened to the song?”

You held his gaze for as long as your heart could manage, before letting it drop to the comfort of the rug on the floor. “No. We probably shouldn’t release it.”

You felt out of breath. The breakthrough you had had while in Hongdae was foreign now, as if it had happened to someone else. Loneliness caught up to you, and all you could do was watch the fall as it happened.

“I’ll put it on hold.” He sounded disappointed, and he wasn’t looking at you anymore when your eyes flitted to him.

How had he been comfort? He was all but comfort now, the source of the ever-growing loneliness that was seeping through every inch of you.

“Thank you.”

Another silence. You were drowning. Drowning in the heaviness in you. It was like quick sands – nothing could stop the sinking, the fall. Falling and falling. You had thought you would fall into him, hadn’t wanted to let yourself formulate the thought, but the hope had been there. The hope had been there, and now you were falling away from him.

“Listen,” Yoongi started. He paused, ran a hand through his hair, folded his arms on his chest, let his fingers fall back into his lap. “I am sorry.” He wet his lips, and you found the strength to look at him. He wasn’t looking at you, and it didn’t seem as if he’d ever have the courage to do it. “I don’t want us to be left on bad terms.”

“We are nothing to each other, aren’t we?” you commented, voice sounding strangely high even to your own ears. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“I honestly didn’t think you were going to come back.”

“I never should have been here in the first place.”

His eyes kept at their journey on the rug, as if he could see lines down there, or maybe one of those drawing you traced with numbers. It was hard to know what he could imagine, hard to know the thoughts in his head.

Could he tell you were falling?

“I know,” he said. His voice was tired, exhausted, remorseful. For someone that didn’t want to regret anything, you could tell he was regretting this, far more than you had expected he would. “She came back two days ago.”

So, if you had been there a week ago, the end would have been different? Now, where would you be when the end came? Alone, as always.

“I’m happy for you.” You surprised even yourself at how genuine you sounded. Maybe because it truly was genuine. Min Yoongi deserved to have someone that loved him around. Someone he loved too. After all he had been through, he deserved it.

He said your name. Intimately, not with any formalities he usually reserved for it. It hurt, far more than everything before. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” you reassured him, even if it sounded false. “It was one night, I’m just a little… shocked.”

You tried to play it cool with a smile, but his eyes were still stubbornly following the lines of his invisible drawing, so he didn’t see it.

“I understand.”

You weren’t sure if he really understood. You didn’t even know what there was to understand. You had slept with Min Yoongi once when you had both been vulnerable, and he had fixed his relationship after. It was just life. You weren’t one to catch feelings easily. He had just been comfort, and it always hurt when comfort was ripped from you, didn’t it?

It was going to pass. Even now, a few minutes later, it was lesser. The initial ache in your heart turning dull, and oxygen returning to your lungs and blood. It didn’t quite feel like drowning anymore, and you could watch him without feeling like your heart was going to stop.

No, you just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened. Blame it all on a fever dream, and move on with your life.

“It was nice to work with you,” you said. Your voice had returned to its normal tone, and you took in a steadying breath. “I’m going to treasure the memory.”

At that he looked at you. “So will I.”

You exchanged a long look. Filled with words unsaid, with possibilities that could have happened had you never left that morning, or had you come back before. Had he been waiting for you? Had he considered not getting back together with her if you were to come first? It was hard to tell, and yet it didn’t make you feel anything. No, the initial shock and hurt really had dwindled away, because you were even able to smile at him, a tight-lipped smile but one nonetheless.

Or maybe your coping mechanism had just come in clutch, pushing all emotions to the deep, dark depths of your heart.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He slowly nodded. “You deserved it. You really did.” He seemed to consider it for a time, before he added, “You are an amazing artist. I’ll be on the lookout for what you release next”.

You chuckled. “We’ll see what I come up with.” You looked around, committing the setting to memory. Committing Min Yoongi to memory, him and his long hair and sad eyes.

“If you ever want to release the song, just let me know,” he said.

You weren’t sure that would ever happen, but if it could ease the remorse in his sad gaze then you would give it to him. “I will, I promise.”

He nodded once more, wetting his lips. “And if you ever need anything, I’m just a call away.”

A call and a world away. Min Yoongi wouldn’t be your comfort. Had probably never been comfort to you, you had just been blinded by the loneliness of your birthday.

“Right back at you,” you said, because it was the civilized thing to say. “I doubt I have anything that you might need though.” It was said like a joke, but it landed in deaf ears, because Yoongi just looked sadder.

“You would be surprised.”

Four words that you hated. That you found yourself to hate for a long time, after you left Min Yoongi’s place that night. Never looking back, not even as you walked outside, each step feeling like another crevice forming, until you were back to that same pathetic lonely self you had been before him.

You were going to need to pick your pieces up yourself, were you?

*****

Present day

Doing interviews still felt foreign. Strange, as if they were meant for someone else than you. Someone that existed a year ago, someone that was just a regular busker.

Not someone that had just sold out an entire concert venue. It still felt unreal, and you always thought you were going to wake up from the dream some day. Thing was, you only woke up to more comments, to more views on your videos.

All thanks to a certain BTS member you had been trying to forget. Three months ago, Min Yoongi had mentioned you in an interview. It had been uncalled for, out of nowhere really. He had been asked what inspired him with his music and he had said fellow artists. When the interviewer had pushed for names, it was yours that Yoongi had given, and Army had immediately jumped on the boat.

Until you were the talk of Korea as the new soloist that everyone needed to know. It was crazy, how your life had changed in just a few months. Now, people recognized you when you walked in the street, fans asked for your pictures. You didn’t know if you liked it, but it was a dream come true.

Your parents had called you, once. You hadn’t picked up, and they hadn’t tried again. You lived in blissful peace now, without the money problems you had had last year, without the fear that one day you would just lose it all. In truth, the fear still existed, but it was more distant. You were a rising star, and for now you didn’t think you had reached the top yet. No, you were still shooting up, and you were willing to work your ass off to make sure you wouldn’t fall back down.

You deserved the success you were having. Had worked blood and sweat to get that success.

You hadn’t talked to Yoongi after. People had suggested collaborations, Armys had posted edits of you (of you?!) next to Min Yoongi all over the Internet. Videos of you busking had gotten millions of views, and Minhyuk was doing his best job to make sure to shut down any hate before it reached you.

You still saw some comments sometimes, but you didn’t really care. You couldn’t be liked by everyone, and that was just life. You had long accepted such a thing.

But yes, doing interviews felt strange. Especially as people tried to desiccate your past, to find every little truth there was to know about you. You were good at keeping most of the truth to yourself, just giving them little snippets of your life here and there to make the fans feel like they knew you.

You were pretty sure none of them knew your loneliness though. Loneliness that was a lot more bearable now that you weren’t struggling with money anymore, come to think of it.

The questions you hated the most were those about Yoongi. And you got a lot of them, especially from male interviewers. They tended to ask questions that were a lot more sexist than their female counterparts, who usually focused on your work instead of on your life. But the male interviewers came with the rest, and even if you had asked Minhyuk to try and filter most of them out, you still had to answer some questions once in a while.

That was how you found yourself on a talk show you had only watched behind the screen of your computer before, sitting across a famous host that had been asking increasingly more personal questions as the hour that you were to spend with him slowly passed.

It was awkward, yet you tried to be your most friendly self, to smile when you were supposed to and to laugh politely whenever he made a joke you personally thought to be degrading. You were relieved when he finally concluded the interview, and you dipped behind the scene as soon as you were allowed, heading straight to the refreshment table.

You were gulping down a water bottle when a familiar figure moved out of the hallway leading to the dressing rooms. Minhyuk sported a toothy grin, and he stopped next to you as you finished the water.

“You were fantastic,” he complimented you. “How can you be so good at this?”

He had asked that same question numerous times already, and you still didn’t have the answer for it. You had always been a huge introvert, yet whenever cameras shone their light on you, you found courage in you to act and pretend to be at your most comfortable.

Only the people that knew you the best could see through the mask, and though Minhyuk knew, he still was amazed that you could just do it like that.

You shrugged, winking at him as you put the water bottle away in a recycling bin. “I don’t know.” You sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the host of the show. He was walking towards you, and you immediately hated the look on his face as he beelined towards you.

He stopped a little too close for comfort, with a placid smile on his lips that felt wrong.

“You’re good at avoiding juicy questions, aren’t you?” It was said like a joke and his eyes even sparkled as he let out a small laugh.

Immediately, you let the camera-adequate you take the lead, and you echoed his laugh. “I want my personal life to stay personal,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

The host nodded, glancing at Minhyuk as your manager moved next to you. “But seriously, how did Min Yoongi come to know you? I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

You pursed your lips, the perfect picture of indifference, even though Yoongi’s mention still felt a little strange. “Honestly, I don’t know. I am very flattered that he likes my music enough to say he’s inspired by it.”

The host looked at you suspiciously, as if he was trying to read between the lines, between the words you had said to find the truth about you and Min Yoongi.

You didn’t think anyone but you and Yoongi really knew the truth. Even Minhyuk didn’t know everything, and he was your manager.

“When’s the collab going to drop?” the host continued. “Surely you must be working on something.”

You shrugged. “I can’t say we are planning to release something together, unfortunately. We’ve never worked on anything together.” An easily crafted lie, that you had said so many times in the last three months that you almost believed it now.

You had yet to listen to the song you had made together. Had buried the file away in your computer, somewhere you had tried to forget as best as you could. It hadn’t really worked, especially not now that Yoongi was mentioned to you almost daily.

“That’s a shame, I’m pretty sure lots of people would love to see such a collab,” the host said pensively. He then offered you a smile he probably thought was kind, but mostly looked paternalistic. “You should try to get him to collab with you, it’d give you a lot of visibility.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t need visibility, but it was a lie. Well, maybe not anymore, because Yoongi had already given it to you.

You wondered what had brought him to mention you. What journey his mind might have taken to lead to you, when he knew damn well what had happened with you was unprofessional. Maybe it was his way of apologizing, of giving you the little something that he could even though you hadn’t contacted him about the song. Maybe he even believed it would make you change your mind about the song, but that was unlikely.

Not when it could make people say that you were only using Yoongi for clout. No, you wanted your success to be all yours now that he had opened the door for you. It wasn’t like you had asked him to, so it wasn’t using him, right?

Minhyuk’s phone started ringing, taking you out of your reverie, and he stepped away to answer the call. He got lots of calls now, and every day it seemed like there was more. More that people wanted to know, wanted to see or wanted to hear.

It was unlikely that it’d stop someday. But it was okay. Being in constant motion kept you from feeling your usual loneliness. Made it lesser, smaller, until it was so easily ignored you almost thought it was absent.

The host dug his phone out of his pocket, and you watched as his eyes skimmed the screen, before looking at you with a delighted smile. You furrowed your brows, but you didn’t have time to say anything before Minhyuk let out a cheer as he jogged back to you.

“You are never going to believe this!”

You looked at him with a slightly widened gaze, glancing at the host once. “What?”

“You’ve been nominated as rookie of the year for MAMA.”

Your mouth fell open, quite at the same time as your heart stopped beating in your chest. “What?”

Minhyuk nodded quickly, and he pulled you into a crushing hug. “Look at you! I knew you were going to make it.”

You laughed, pushing on his chest so he’d release you from his hold. “Are you sure?”

You couldn’t really believe it. It didn’t make sense to you, and all you could do was meet Minhyuk’s gaze as his eyes filled with proud tears.

“He’s right,” the host said. He raised his phone, showing the screen to you. Sure enough, you read the article that had just come out, and your name was the first thing that caught your attention. Then everything blurred behind a wall of unexpected tears, and you let out a disbelieved laugh.

“How?”

Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders, smiling fondly. “Because you’re the best at what you do?”

Both of you knew you had Min Yoongi to thank for that. Hell, without him mentioning you three months ago you would probably have given up on making music all together. But no, he mentioned you, and you skyrocketed, your music even making it to the radio.

It was unbelievable, and it seemed new heights could be reached. Because MAMA was a lot of visibility, and publicity too. A room, full of other artists, and you were one of the nominees? It truly was a dream, wasn’t it?

You could only thank your lucky star for it, though you’d never go to the extent of thanking Min Yoongi, would you?

*****

You had been hesitating for a few hours now. Watching your phone, reading Yoongi’s contact on the screen, and then shutting off the device to focus on the lyrics you were currently writing. It was hard to focus – your mind just kept going back to Min Yoongi.

You didn’t know if you wanted to thank him. To tell him this was all thanks to him. It felt too real, like acknowledging it would take your success away. And you couldn’t lose it – it was one of the last things you had.

Your mother had tried to call you, the day after you learned that you were nominated as rookie of the year. You had sent her straight to voicemail, like you’d been doing for a while anyway. You deleted the voicemail without listening to it, uncaring of what she would have to say to you.

Nothing would ever make you want to have her in your life again, in any way whatsoever. She was dead to you, and you wanted it to stay that way.

You sighed, and your eyes fell to the paper you were writing on. Your handwriting looked more like scribbles, and you had doodled some flowers at the top of the page, as if they’d help you find some inspiration. Needless to say, they hadn’t, as your thoughts always trailed back to Yoongi.

You looked at the two lines you had already written. The only two lines your brain had been able to come up with in the last three hours since you’d sat down.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to a city

You didn’t like it. Something about the two lines didn’t work together, and you decided to strike through the last word. Because what city was it supposed to represent? Seoul? You’d been in Seoul for so long it didn’t seem quite right anymore. Unless the city represented something else entirely. Perhaps a dream?

You sighed once more, replacing the word city with dream.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to a dream

You already liked it more. You replaced the ‘a’ in front of ‘dream’ to ‘my’ before humming it out loud. You knew you’d still have to tweak it a little, but already the next lines started forming in your head.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to my dream

Bright light and Heaven’s door

I knock and scream at them to open

In a world where no one knows my name

I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs

You’d think they’d ring true and high

But I think they’re the devil in disguise

They push me out and in the mud

I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me

In the land where no one knows my name

I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away

They say one day I’ll understand

But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay

It always hit you like that. Once the inspiration found you, you couldn’t really stop. You had to put the words on paper, ink staining your hand as you barely let it dry. You wrote quickly, eyes not blinking, brain entirely zeroing in on the spot where the tip of your pen kissed the paper, tracing the curves of the words you were ingraining.

It was an exciting feeling. Because yes, you felt like your success was all you had left, but it was a lie. Because even without your success, you’d still have this. Your pen against the paper, the flow of words spilling out of you like an overflowing glass, nothing but you and the lyrics.

It was your home when you were younger, and you knew it would always be your home. Music, that is, and the lyrics that found their way out of the confines of your skull.

You reread the verse, smiling to yourself. You knew it would likely change a little by the time you’d consider the song ready, but for a first draft you really did like the sound of it.

Especially considering it had helped you escape the will to contact Min Yoongi.

Your eyes slid to the window of your apartment. The sun was setting outside, coloring the world in shades of gold that made it feel like you could conquer it, if you so wanted. You felt infinite then, as if the start and the end happened all at once, and never at the same time. Like there was just this moment, right now, and nothing else, but also everything else. Every little moment, stretching into infinity.

It was a recurring feeling to you, whenever you found your inspiration, like it was some old friend coming home.

Once the sun was fully set, dusk settling on the world outside, you focused back on your apartment. You had to cook dinner soon, but somehow the idea of it exhausted you. Perhaps because you had used a lot of brain power on the song, and now you just wanted to rest. You figured ordering some food tonight would be okay, and you ordered fried chicken as you moved to your couch. You turned on the TV, moving to a channel that played some drama you’ve been invested in, and you watched the show for a while, up until the fried chicken was delivered.

You were on your way back up to your apartment when your phone lit up in your hand, and you almost threw it across the hall when you saw the name on the screen.

It made no sense. Like you had summoned him from the depths of your skull. Like you had passed the itch to call to him, and unlike you he hadn’t been able to resist the urge.

You picked up the call, hands shaking lightly, as you neared your apartment door.

“Hello?”

There was a short silence, and then the unmistakable deep voice of Min Yoongi filled your ears. “Hey, Y/n.”

Your throat felt dry, a lump keeping you from swallowing properly. It indeed made you gulp, and you could only hope that he hadn’t heard.

“How have you been doing?” he asked.

You stopped in front of your door, putting the fried chicken down long enough so you could dial your password and push the door open. “I’ve been great,” you replied truthfully, because there was no use to lie to him.

You still were lonely, but it was easier now.

“I’m glad,” he pensively said. It took him a while to speak again, but once he did he said, “I wanted to congratulate you for being nominated as rookie of the year.”

You blushed, immediately embarrassed, even though you were walking in your apartment and no one could see you. You put the fried chicken down on the counter, and then headed to a cupboard to grab a plate.

“Thank you,” you told him. “I think it’s… because of you.”

He chuckled, deeply, and the sound brought you right back to that night you had spent in his bed. Your blush turned furious, and you gulped once.

“You’re getting the success you deserve, as an artist. It’s all you.”

“Right. No one would know about me if you hadn’t mentioned me that one time.”

You heard him sigh, and regretted how your words had come out aggressive. “I just told the truth.” He paused, and you could almost hear his brain work as he figured his next words carefully. “Your music does inspire me.”

“Seonbaenim…” you trailed off.

“Ah, no need to call me that anymore,” he gently said. “We’re equals now.”

You doubted you’d ever be his equal, but you still let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

Another awkward silence followed, as you put your plate down on the coffee table in your living room. You had gotten a nicer apartment once the money had started to come in, which meant you finally had more than just one room – an improvement that you still were struggling to wrap your head around.

You went back to the kitchen to grab the fried chicken, and then you settled on the floor, next to the coffee table.

“I was wondering…” Yoongi finally said, and you almost startled at the sound of his voice, as if you had forgotten he was on the other side of the line. “Would you like to… grab dinner one of these days? To celebrate your nomination.”

“Dinner? Us two?

He chuckled once more. “Now that I’m thinking of it, it might be coming out of nowhere to you.” He laughed, and you wondered if he was blushing just as furiously as you were.

Because you weren’t expecting him to want to see you again. It made you think of his girlfriend, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were still together, or if they were broken up now. You didn’t think he’d suggest dinner if they were still dating, but it was hard to tell.

Maybe that was his way of making things professional with you again, because he wanted to release the song.

“Is it…” you trailed off, struggling to find the words. “Is it to discuss the song?”

You were pretty sure you could hear him gulp. “Ah, nah, the song doesn’t matter. I’m not going to force you to release it, not when you’ve made it clear you’re not interested. I just thought… you deserve to celebrate?” He paused, just long enough to collect his thoughts before he continued. “Unless you’re already celebrating? You have a manager, right?”

You didn’t think you had ever heard Yoongi string so many words one after the other before, except when he was rapping or singing. It made you laugh anxiously once more, though you reckoned the anxiety was slowly dwindling to nothingness.

“I do,” you answered. “But I’m not celebrating with him. We’ve never really hung out outside of work stuff before.”

“That could be considered as an important work event, no?” Yoongi pointed out. “Your first nomination… it always means a lot.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, eyes reading the words on the unopened box of fried chicken again and again. “It does,” you admitted, voicing it for the first time. “I…” Your eyes filled with tears, and you took a deep, steadying breath. “I still can’t believe it.”

His voice was kind when he spoke again. “It’s hard to believe it at first,” he said, gently. “That’s why you deserve to celebrate.”

“But why… Why with you? We’re not even friends. Barely work acquaintances at best, especially after…”

You didn’t finish your sentence, and it seemed it had stunned Yoongi into silence, because he didn’t say anything. Didn’t reply, and for a moment you imagined that he had hung up. But he hadn’t, so you waited patiently.

“I have to admit,” Yoongi said, his voice infinitely small. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry for how things went between us. I guess I’m trying to make amends? And I really want to make sure you celebrate this nomination the right way.”

“Isn’t that weird though, considering what happened?”

He pondered for a time. “Maybe. It’s only weird if we let it be weird.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you still didn’t know why he wanted to be the one celebrating with you. You barely knew each other, outside of the song you had worked on and that night you had slept together. He didn’t know about what you did for fun, about what you liked and disliked. Could only imagine what your relationship with your family was, if he listened to the song closely. Yes, he could relate to your love for music, as he had the same one, but he still didn’t know you.

Had that night with you mattered to him, too? Had he felt comfort when he was by your side, in the soft sheets of his bed?

“Right,” you let out. “I just… I don’t know. What about your…”

“Oh.” He paused, sighing. “We broke up months ago.”

Your eyes widened, the revelation giving you hope that you hated. You weren’t sure you were supposed to be hopeful right now. But he still had called you, right? Still wanted to celebrate with you, no?

“Oh,” you echoed. “I’m sorry.”

“It was my decision,” he admitted. “You made me realize some stuff… but I’d rather talk about it in person?”

So that was the reason why he wanted to see you after all. And somehow, it made your initial reticence disappear, until you found yourself saying, “Sure. I think that could be a good idea.”

You could hear the relief in his voice as he spoke. “Great! Would you want to come over? I could cook you a nice meal.”

You smiled, softly. “You want to cook me a meal? We could just go to a restaurant and…”

But you couldn’t, right? People could recognize you, paparazzi could take pictures of you, rumours could blossom left and right.

“You know what?” you added before he could say something. “Yes, I’d like to come over. I’ll find a nice bottle to drink?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “Are you available sometime this week?”

As you scheduled your dinner with Min Yoongi, you wondered if he could hear the wild beats he had ignited in your chest. You wondered if he could hear the hope in your voice, hope that you tried to push away. Because the last time you had been hopeful, you had ended up hurt, badly. Way more than you had been before he had come into your life. You didn’t want to give him this power over you once more, and so you promised yourself one thing, and one thing only.

You would only be friends with him this time around. Nothing more. Because your self-preservation came first.

*****

Yoongi didn’t move, in the few months you didn’t talk to him. He still lived at that same fancy building you had used to hate, yet now you lived in a similar one. Not quite as expensive, and your apartment didn’t lay on two stories like his condo did, but making your way to his place wasn’t quite as anxiety-inducing as it had been then.

You had told Minhyuk that you were going to visit Min Yoongi. It felt like you needed him to know, now that you were famous enough to get recognized. Not enough for the receptionist to let you pass though. Indeed, the lady stopped you as you were walking in, clutching an expensive bottle of wine in your clammy hands.

“Excuse me,” she said, and your eyes widened as you turned to look at her.

You stopped in your tracks, and your heart picked up its pace in your chest. “Yes?”

“You don’t live here.”

The sudden will to reply ‘Obviously’ almost made you blurt it out, but you swallowed the word like a lump in your throat, glancing towards the elevator.

“I’m visiting a friend,” you told her, though you hesitated on the last word.

Because Min Yoongi wasn’t really a friend. Yet at least. And you reckoned you had no idea if he’d be one someday, especially after what had happened a few months back. You had been hopeful since your call on the phone, but ever since this morning you rather felt anxious, like you were about to be swallowed up by the ground never to be seen again.

Still, you stood strong, head up high as the lady eyed you up and down.

“And who is that?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked as she clearly didn’t believe you.

It might have been your fault. You had decided not to wear too expensive clothes, because you still weren’t used to even having some. Indeed, you had been receiving designer clothes by a couple of different brands, but you had yet to sign with one, feeling a little too overwhelmed from it. You had never been big on fashion after all, and if it wasn’t for Minhyuk’s suggestions, you were pretty sure you would have had more than one faux pas so far.

“Uh,” you let out, and your eyes dropped to the wine bottle. “Min Yoongi,” you revealed, and somehow you wondered if you just looked like a crazy fan.

Did it happen, sometimes? Did fans try to visit him, pretending they knew him?

The lady’s gaze narrowed as you looked up at her, trying to appear as convincing as you could. “He didn’t mention he had a friend coming over.”

Maybe you had grown lucky after all these years of bad luck. Maybe your stars had finally aligned, maybe the ocean’s waves were finally beating the shore in your favour. Because Min Yoongi stepped in from the outside world, hair ruffled by the wind, with a slight flush to his cheeks as if he’d been rushing home.

At the sight of the wine bottle in his hands, you assumed he was.

“Seonbaenim,” you instinctively said as a way of greeting, as your heart decided it was time to run wild.

He looked better than you remembered him to be. Healthier, as if the months had been good to him. And maybe they had been, the same way that they had been for you.

“I told you not to call me that,” he reminded you, after a few silent seconds of him just staring at you. “You can call me Yoongi.”

It was way too casual for you, so you just nodded your head as your cheeks burned.

Yoongi made his way towards you, nodding at the receptionist. You had half a thought of saying ‘told you so’, but you refrained, choosing peace over war. In truth, you weren’t quite sure you could speak right now, as your heart just kept rushing on and on as if it was running the last few miles of a marathon.

Silence was all that accompanied you and Min Yoongi on the elevator ride up to his condo, though once the doors slid open, he glanced at you. You wondered if it was blush dusting his cheeks or if the wind had been colder outside than what you had thought.

“How are you?” he asked, and as soon as your gaze met his, he looked away.

You gulped down the anxiety, before saying, “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Great.”

You followed him out of the elevator, all the way to his door before you managed to speak again. “You got some wine? I thought I was the one that was supposed to bring it.”

He chuckled, shyly. “Just trying to be a good host.” He dialed his code in, before pushing the door open. “After all, aren’t we supposed to be celebrating you tonight?”

You pursed your lips, walking in behind him. “Well,” you choked out, before gulping down another lump. “I wouldn’t have gotten nominated if it weren’t for you, as I said before.”

“Oh please,” he let out as he kicked his shoes off, and you quickly did the same. “How many times will I have to tell you that it was all you?”

You shrugged, and your eyes slid to the stairs, picturing him there all those months ago. It made your gaze drop to the ground, and the heaviness of his gaze on your profile told you that he had noticed.

“Was it?” you said, chuckling awkwardly as you tried to keep the atmosphere light. “It rather feels like it was all thanks to your interview.”

He shrugged it off, sliding his feet in a pair of slippers. “You can grab those slippers.”

Your eyes moved to a lonely pair closer to the door, and you nodded.

“I really was thinking of cooking something?” Yoongi said as you were putting on the slippers, and you wondered if he was purposefully ignoring what you had said. “I’m not big on take-out, but I do like to cook.”

You truly met his gaze for what felt like the first time tonight, even though it really wasn’t, and it felt like the whole world had slowed. Like the lights had dimmed, and the walls and art decorating them had gone out of focus. The only thing you could see was his soft gaze, and the way he had a small, shy smile on his lips. You were pretty sure you could count the lashes on his eyes, and it made you feel like you were falling forward, while simultaneously staying in place. Like motion sickness, and you blinked a few times as your gaze dropped to the floor once more, too much of a coward to hold his.

“Sure, I’d love to cook,” you replied, worrying at your bottom lip. “I can help.”

At that, a true, bright smile moved on his features, and it made the room feel warmer, cozier. “Then let’s go cook, Y/n.”

The way he said your name had your insides go molten, and it took you a good few seconds before you actually managed to follow him as he walked towards the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself cooking with him, talking about everything and nothing with just a little bit of awkwardness clinging to the air. You didn’t think it was a bad thing – it was only normal after the months and what had happened. After all, even then you hadn’t been particularly close to him. Yes, that night, he had been comfort personified, but you rather thought that It was only because you had no comfort in your life then. Nothing to cling to to make you want to get up day after day.

One full glass of wine later, as food was sizzling in a pan on the oven, Yoongi leaned against the counter, looking at you. You felt shy under his gaze, and you busied yourself by refilling the glasses. It didn’t help, as it forced you to step closer to him, but at least it occupied the silence for a time.

“How have you been adjusting to this?” he asked, motioning around him.

You were aware he wasn’t talking about his kitchen, but rather about your new life. It made you ponder for a time, because you thought you were adjusting well, though you weren’t quite sure if it was just an act. It was still too early to tell, and you didn’t have it in you to lie to Min Yoongi.

“Honestly,” you let out, slowly, as your eyes got lost in the rich colour of the wine. “It’s been easy, so far. But I don’t even know if it’ll last? And each time I do an interview, or talk in front of people, it just feels like someone else takes over. I’m not even sure it’s me.”

He remained silent for a while, making you feel as if you blurting out your truth was a little too real for the relationship you currently had with him – which was none, you reckoned. You saw him take a sip of wine from the corner of your eyes, and it took him a moment before he swallowed. Once he did, he finally spoke up, making relief flood through you.

“I understand,” he said. “More than you can imagine. I’ve felt this way since I debuted with Bangtan all those years ago. Struggled with it a lot if I’m honest.”

You worried at your lip, slowly nodding your head. “And how have you adjusted?”

He smiled, softly. “All thanks to the members. They supported me when things got rough. Made sure I was never alone, and helped me to be comfortable with my public persona.”

You could taste the slight tang of jealousy on your tongue, yet you pushed it away, ignored it as best as you could. “I can imagine. It must have been… great, to have all of them around as you climbed the ladder to success.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tilting his head to the side. “That’s… why I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone in this?”

He looked startled, for a few seconds, eyes a little wide as his mouth fell open. He had a line of red wine drying on his lips, and your gaze focused on it as your brain took the words in, spinning them around until they made no sense whatsoever.

“I…” you trailed off. “Why?”

He sighed, probably realizing that he had been too upfront. “No one should be alone in this,” he carefully said, and he turned away from you to check the food on the stove.

It smelled delicious, but he must have deemed it wasn’t ready, because he put the lid back on the pan and faced you again.

“And I know… I know we shouldn’t be talking about the song,” he continued. “But I also heard your lyrics.”

Lyrics of loneliness and despair you had spat in his mic that day you had come to record. On your birthday, the epitome of loneliness every year.

“You did,” you said, shying from his gaze once more. You took a sip of the wine, let it roll on your tongue, and then you spoke again. “It hasn’t been as bad as before,” you admitted, carefully. “It doesn’t feel as lonely as before. I think it’s because I’m not struggling with everything else anymore. Like… financially, and all that. I used to not even know when my next meal was going to be, and now I can always order or cook if I have time for groceries.”

The kind smile on Yoongi’s lips felt like the warm rays of a spring sun, and you couldn’t help the shy smile that grew on your own lips. “It does help,” he said. He glanced at the food, before settling his gaze back on you. “I bet you’ve been feeling like you are running out of time, though.”

“Gosh,” you let out, and you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. It feels like I always have schedules to do, and whenever I don’t I feel bad if I’m not working on new lyrics.”

“I totally get that.”

There was a silence, only interrupted by an alarm Yoongi had set for the rice cooker. He turned it off, and then his gaze slid to his kitchen table that still stood empty where it was a couple of meters away.

“Let me set the table,” he told you, not meeting your gaze, and then you spent the next few minutes watching him do so, feeling a little awkward in your spot in the kitchen. It was lessened when Yoongi put some music on, some chill beats that wouldn’t make the conversation hard.

“Thank you,” you told him when he moved back to the kitchen to check the food. “I could have helped.”

“No,” he said, reassuringly. “I told you, we’re celebrating you tonight. You already helped with cutting the vegetables.”

If someone could call your poor attempt at cutting the onions as help, then you would take the compliment. “Right,” you let out, laughing lightly.

And for the first time tonight it didn’t feel awkward or forced. It felt comfortable, as if watching Yoongi set the table, in the mundanity of the action, had brought back the comfort he radiated back then.

“Trust me,” he said, offering you a toothy grin.

It was surprising, and it did things to you that made your cheeks burn and your tongue ache for the taste of wine. So you took a long gulp, before moving to grab the bottle and place it on the table.

“Here, I’ve contributed,” you told him, and your nose was a little scrunched up, awkwardly so, when you looked at him again.

He laughed, a sound you reckoned you could get used to hearing, and then he started putting the food in bowls. “I don’t know what I would have done without your input.” He sounded sarcastic, teasing, and maybe, just maybe you really could be friends. “Thank you.”

“No problem, seonbaenim.” This time, you said the formal nickname teasingly, and he rolled his eyes, slightly shaking his head.

“You have to stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“Would you rather me calling you ahjussi?”

The way his smile fell to be replaced by a startled expression had you burst out a laugh that was nothing but feminine, one he joined after a few seconds.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asked, and you grinned at him as he carried the bowls to the table. “I see.”

The atmosphere shifted, after that. Conversation grew easier, not forced, and the exquisite taste of the food made you feel like maybe you could cook after all. You finished the first wine bottle as you ate, which you reckoned might have been a bad idea, because you were tipsy by the time Yoongi uncorked the second one, his cheeks having turned red from the few glasses he had already ingested.

“Are you sure we should be drinking that too?” you asked, and you giggled as he threw you a no-bullshit look.

“Celebrating, remember?” he replied. “We have to be getting drunk.”

“Just us two?”

His gaze widened slightly, and he put down the wine bottle. “Unless you don’t want to.”

You raised your glass, looking at the light over his kitchen island through it. “I do want to. Just feels like we should… not be stupid this time around, no?”

His features were somber when your gaze slid to him. “Right,” he said, slowly nodding. “I didn’t invite you over with any intentions, if that can reassure you.”

You were too tipsy for where the conversation was going, so you said, “I want to be your friend, Min Yoongi. Let’s not be professional this time. Let’s just be friends.”

His eyes lit up, slowly followed by a smile that took over his mouth in the most beautiful way. He looked heavenly, standing there, long hair behind his ears, pale, expensive Louis Vuitton sweater rolled on his forearms. He looked princely, like he had looked that night, and it made your gaze slide away.

For preservation, perhaps.

“I’d love to call you a friend,” he said, gently. “I’d really love to.”

You pursed your lips, steeling yourself for the glance you sent to him. “Then pour me some wine, Min Yoongi.”

He laughed, and soon enough he was back at the table next to you, talking about what growing up was for him. You could see the similarities in your past, and maybe that was why you had always been comfortable with him before. Because he really did understand where you were coming from, though he had been able to fix things with his family.

Which wasn’t something you ever wanted to do. You were content with not talking to them, and you were pretty sure that wouldn’t change. Especially not as the only reason why they were contacting you now was because they probably had heard about you on the television.

“I swear!” Yoongi said, slightly shaking his head, a long time after the conversation had shifted to anecdotes about his past and yours. “I’ve never seen anyone get so worked up about some bananas.”

You laughed, quickly followed by him. The retelling of a fight between Jungkook and Hoseok had you shedding a tear, and Yoongi watched you carefully as you dried it with the back of your hand.

“That is so stupid,” you commented.

He nodded wisely. “I know. But it’s been a long time. Jungkook-ie was mostly upset because it was a gift.”

You chuckled. “Bananas?”

“Yes.” Yoongi laughed, and then his eyes slid to your empty glass in front of you.

You were halfway through the second bottle, and the alcohol had been buzzing through your system. The scene had lost its focus around you, the wine fuzzing it up until all that was left were Yoongi’s pretty features. His cheeks had turned red a while ago, and you reckoned yours probably had too, sometime between your third and fourth glass. You didn’t really care – this Yoongi was comfortable, friendly. Something you had been needing more than you would have ever cared to admit – a friend.

You liked how easy it was, that friendship. And it really was, even in the days and weeks that followed you reconnecting with Yoongi. Like maybe that was what you had always been meant to be – friends, and nothing more.

He never talked to you about the song again. Never pressed you to listen to it, to release it, but if you were in his head you’d know that he was dying to drop it out of the blue, to have his fans know just what you felt, what he felt. Because the loneliness that had inhabited you when you had written your share of the lyrics was common to him, though it was growing less frequent now that you were in his life.

Min Yoongi really was comfort indeed.

*****

After weeks of talking once in a while, of hanging out even more rarely, with Yoongi’s and your busy schedule, MAMA arrived. You were anxious about it – it was your first award show after all. Yoongi was there in spirit to reassure you before, sending you an expensive whiskey bottle as a gift. He was getting ready with the members of BTS that were attending, which meant you weren’t going to see him before the ceremony. So all you did that day was prepare with a glam team hired by Minhyuk, and then you were driven to the venue where MAMA was held.

It was surreal, to sit in that venue. With the other artists, the whole scene of music that was Asia. You were sat next to Twice, a group you had never expected you’d see in real life. Sana and Jihyo congratulated you on your nomination, and you immediately went into camera mode, easy smile and bright eyes on display.

If you were honest, the camera mode was barely faked today. No, you rather were amazed by the scene, by the crowd and the buzzing of chatter and laughter. You awed at the sight of so many famous people, of Twice and Stray Kids and some groups you didn’t even know. You hadn’t realized you were part of it before today, and now you could see IU sitting on the other side of the venue, along with some people you didn’t recognize.

Imposter syndrome chose this moment to hit you. Out of nowhere, the way the first bolt of lightning strikes, even before the sound of thunder is heard. With clammy hands, you watched as the lights dimmed, and the crowd ushered until a spotlight shone on the animator of the evening. You barely could listen, barely could watch the groups performing. All you could think was that you were alone in this room, without anyone by your side.

Not even Minhyuk. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to – for some reason, he hadn’t received an invitation along with you. Something you didn’t quite understand, but didn’t really have anything to say about it. Because, after all, you were just a rising star, and rising stars tended to fall into darkness more often than not.

Why would you be any different?

You were starting to panic. You knew it, and yet you couldn’t help it. Sana must have noticed, because during a commercial break, she leaned closer to you.

“Hey,” she greeted you once more. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”

The whole of Twice turned towards you, and your eyes widened. “Uh,” you let out. “I don’t…”

But Jeongyeon was already extending a water bottle towards you, and you thanked her as you took it. Your hands shook a little as you uncapped it, but the first swig had the anxiety calm down, just enough for you to thank the girls again.

“It’s okay!” Sana reassured you. “We know how overwhelming this can be. Can’t imagine what it must be like for someone alone.”

You winced, glancing around. Your gaze stopped as it met Yoongi’s. He was not too far from IU, with the rest of the BTS members in attendance. You hadn’t noticed him before, perhaps because they had arrived late.

You had been so early you had been able to see everyone walking in.

Yoongi nodded his head at you, offering you a secretive smile. It grounded you in the present, and you finally felt the wave of panic recede, the way the ocean recedes at low tide. It calmed you down, and you found yourself able to actually enjoy the show from then on.

When it was time for the award for rookie of the year to be announced, anxiety returned to you. It wasn’t the same kind of anxiety – no, it was the kind that one anticipates, uses to push themselves forward. You leaned on the edge of your seat, almost imperceptibly, listening as they called out the names. Smiling shyly as they said your name, and the big screen shone with an image of you. You watched yourself, prettily sitting there, with your hair perfectly styled and makeup on fleek, feeling like you were watching someone else entirely. It was an out-of-body experience, somehow, especially as the camera you took over.

The crowd was silenced expectantly as the announcer opened the envelope, slowly. You thought you could hear the envelope tear. It was like it was echoing, on repeat like a song stuck in your head. All you could do was watch as they got the paper out, and when they said your name, loud and clear, your eyes widened as your lips parted slightly.

For an unknown reason, your head turned towards Sana first, and she offered you a bright smile as the room erupted into claps. You slowly got up, feeling thousands of eyes following your every move, and your own gaze slid to the other side of the room once more.

Yoongi was clapping, with the softest smile on his lips. It was a smile you rarely saw from him – it was fond, like you were the sun after a long night. He mouthed a congratulation, only meant for you – something personal, that you tucked in a safe corner of your heart. It made you stand straighter, and it guided you towards the scene as you walked to accept your award.

You bowed as you were handed the trophy, its weight surprisingly heavy as it landed in your hands, and you smiled widely as the announcer congratulated you. You thanked them, and then moved to the mic, letting the camera persona take over.

And take over she did, giving thanks to the people that helped you. You couldn’t resist but gaze towards Yoongi as you kept talking, and you had to bite your tongue not to thank him too. Because to you, it was thanks to him that you were standing there, in this spot. The winner of rookie of the year – a year ago, you were all but an unknown busker, barely getting by. And this year, you were shining in the light, rising towards the heavens.

An out-of-body experience indeed.

When it was done, you could barely remember anything. From the whole evening, if you were honest, as if it was too good to be true. You had been invited to an after-party, and on your way to it, after you had changed into a less formal attire, you found yourself coming back to your body.

You blinked once, twice, letting out a small, disbelieved laugh. The driver glanced at you, cocking an eyebrow in the rear-view mirror.

“Sorry,” you apologized, and then you let out another laugh. It sounded a little crazy, perhaps, but you didn’t care.

Your body was the vessel of a happiness it had never known before, and you were going to enjoy it. To drink it till the very last drop, because who knew when you’d feel like this again?

You got to the party, almost at the same time as another similar SUV. You smiled as you saw Sana and Jihyo come out, and they motioned for you to join them.

Another friendship you had never seen coming. But it blossomed easily, and they chatted and laughed and drank with you for a while. Long enough for you to forget that there was actually a reason why you had accepted the invitation to this after-party in the first place.

Min Yoongi was in attendance. And you thought you could feel the moment he walked into the place. As if the frantic energy lessened, somehow, and your eyes immediately searched for him. You saw Hoseok first, and he grinned as his gaze met yours, waving at you.

You waved back, which didn’t go unnoticed to Sana and Jihyo.

“You know Hobi-nim?” Jihyo asked, pretty mouth forming a pout. “So the rumors are true after all.”

You winced. “The rumors are out of mind but yes, I do know Hobi-nim.” You did, from Yoongi. You had only met him twice before though.

You didn’t mind Jihyo’s comment. Mostly because it was said so genuinely, so nicely, with no ounce of jealousy or any other negative emotion behind. You didn’t think she had it in her anyway. Neither did Sana, who just said, “Rumors are always out of mind. Don’t pay attention to them.”

Easier said than done, but you still nodded your head, before glancing towards Hoseok again. This time, you noticed Jungkook and Yoongi too, and the latter offered you that same secretive and fond smile he had offered you earlier. It made something in you constrict, and blush crept on your cheeks.

“You can go with them, if you want,” Jihyo told you, noticing the emotions on your face. “This is a safe place for us celebrities to mingle.”

Sana chuckled. “We like parties like this. Makes us feel a little more normal.”

“Do they happen often?” you enquired, and you broke eye contact with Yoongi to meet the girl’s gaze.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Unfortunately.” It was her turn to look towards Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook, and then she added, “Do go with them. Yoongi-nim is looking this way.”

This time, you turned fully beet red, but luckily enough the expensive foundation on your skin held, hiding your emotions. To Sana’s eyes, perhaps, but you were pretty sure Jihyo knew.

And knew what? You didn’t even know. Yoongi was a friend, nothing more, and you liked it that way. You liked that you could count him as a friend, because God knew you needed friends in your life.

“Well then, better go talk to him before he makes rumors spread,” you joked, and the two girls laughed.

Before you went, you exchanged numbers with them, promising that you could meet up in the following days, and then you were off to meet Min Yoongi, where he stood close to a wall on the other side of the room.

He didn’t like parties. That much you knew. He had only decided to go because he wanted to be there for you, whether the outcome of the evening was positive or not. And it was positive, the brightest thing that had ever happened to you. An evening built of the stuff that makes the sun shine – bright, ever-lasting. You clung to that feeling as you reached Yoongi’s side, and Hoseok and Jungkook dipped as soon as you appeared, leaving you alone with Yoongi.

“Congratulations,” he said, this time aloud.

It still felt personal, and you tilted your head to the side, offering him a smile. “I should congratulate you. It’s because of you.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You know it was all you. You have to stop saying it was me.”

“Right.” You narrowed your eyes, imperceptibly. “Of course I won rookie of the year because I was busking in Hongdae.”

“Come on,” he let out. “We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

“And we’ll go over it a thousand times more until you accept that it’s because of you.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Right. Then why don’t we get a drink to celebrate me? Since it’s all because of me.”

You laughed, eyes sliding to the bar. “Whiskey?”

“Champagne?”

“You like champagne?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. But if we are celebrating something that didn’t happen, then we should drink something we don’t like.”

You cocked your head to the side once more. “What makes you think I don’t like champagne?”

“Do you?”

Your silence was answer enough for Yoongi. You both laughed, and then he motioned towards the bar. “After you.”

You nodded, slowly, and then moved towards the alcohol, and towards your salvation, maybe. Because though Yoongi had always felt like comfort, right now he felt different. New, a little like you had felt that night months ago.

The night you were trying not to think about, whenever you hung out with him. You had never talked about his ex either, as if the subject was taboo. And perhaps it was if you wanted to maintain a friendship with Min Yoongi.

“We’ll take two whiskeys,” Yoongi said as you reached the bar, and you threw him an offended look.

“Whiskey? I thought we were going for champagne.”

“I’ll be damned if you catch me drinking champagne,” he muttered.

It was said so adorably you widened your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “Maybe you’re already damned,” you said, and you raised your hand so the barmaid noticed you. “Can you change that for champagne, please?”

She nodded, and you turned back towards a bewildered Yoongi. “You…”

He fell silent, and you cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

He only snorted, shaking his head slightly as his eyes fell to the floor. “Nothing.”

You moved a little closer, trying to meet his gaze. “Right.”

He rolled his eyes, gently pushing you away. It was familiar, more familiar than your usual friendship, but it felt fitting for the night and its brightness.

Your champagne arrived, and you looked down at the golden liquid as Yoongi handed you your glass. Your fingers barely even touched, yet you felt the warmth of a thousand suns crawling up your arm, slowly. You would have flinched had the feeling not been so pleasurable, especially as Yoongi looked at you again.

He looked at you differently. Like it was his first time seeing you after a long time. Like you were a flower he had forgotten, years ago, and was now only seeing again. It made your heart stop in your chest, before it started again on an erratic beat.

“Enjoy,” he said, and he clinked his glass with yours before downing his own.

Your gaze widened as he put the glass down on the bar, wincing slightly. “What was that for?”

“Your turn.”

“What?” you let out, and you laughed.

His eyes were different again, familiar, when they looked at you this time. The eyes of the friend you had grown to know in the last few weeks. “Finish it, so we can get some real alcohol.”

“I don’t want to chug.”

“Why not?”

You pursed your lips. “I don’t want to get too drunk tonight.”

He remained silent for a time, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Why not?”

Because. Because last time he had looked at you like this while you had been drinking had led to an unimaginable chaos, one you didn’t wish to revisit. No matter how comfortable he was, Yoongi was always going to just be a friend.

“I want to remember tonight,” you chose to say, carefully. “I’ve already forgotten most of the award show, I don’t want to forget the after-party too.”

He laughed, a clear sound that was meant just for your ears, in the loud music playing in the party. It was almost your first time noticing the beat since you had joined Yoongi, as if you had joined him in a pocket outside of this room.

Crashing back to reality had you look down at your glass. And then you knocked it back, chugging it in a few long sips as Yoongi watched you with a widened gaze.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said as you put it down. “Let’s get you some water.”

“Why?” you asked. “Why do you care if I remember or not?”

Your tone had changed. He noticed it right away, and he stilled in front of you, turning to stone. “Because you’re my friend?” he answered carefully. “If you want to remember, then the good friendly thing to do is make sure you do.”

The way he said that sentence, with that low voice of his, the one that only came out when he was in private, or perhaps when he was tired… it did things to you. Made you look at him as if the light was shining differently on him.

Differently, yes, but all the same too. Shining like that night months ago, and if you weren’t in public you think you would have grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.

A terrifying thought if you had ever seen one, and it made you glance around. “Should we… go somewhere else?”

It wasn’t what you had meant to ask. It was threading dangerous territory, a slope that could only lead to mistakes again. To unprofessionalism, though this time your relationship with him wasn’t professional.

You were giving yourself whiplash. All the months, of fame and newfound friendship, were giving you whiplash. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.

“You don’t like the party?” he asked.

You met his gaze. “I know you don’t. We don’t have to stay.”

His lips parted slightly, and your eyes fell to them, admiring their pinkish tint. “What would there be for you to remember, then?”

You.

You didn’t say it, only shrugged your shoulders. “I already partied before you got here. Do you know that Sana and Jihyo are the sweetest girls?”

He smiled, softly. “Are they? I’ve never really spoken to them.”

You wet your lip, eyes sliding to the empty champagne glasses on the bar, almost at the same time as they were picked up to be put away. “Yeah. And honestly, I don’t do parties all that much either.” You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, only then noticing that your hands were shaking slightly. “I only came because you were going to be here.”

“Did you?” he asked.

He sounded like he didn’t believe you, like you were supposed to be enjoying the scene around you. And you were, you really were, but the light was shining on something else entirely now, a treasure you wanted to find, like it was but the red cross on a treasure map.

You didn’t know if it existed, but tonight you wanted to believe that it did.

“Yes, I did,” you replied truthfully.

He chuckled. “And I only came here because you were coming.”

You smiled, knowingly. “So, should we go?”

*****

The city lied beneath your feet. An ocean of twinkling lights, out of reach. Like jewels shining in the night, never-ending. You felt small, standing atop the building, and your breath froze in the air, curling up to reach the clouds above.

“It’s cold,” Yoongi stated, and you glanced at him.

His hands were buried deep in his coat pockets, and he was visibly trying to hide his face in the collar. You smiled at him, shivering in a soft breeze.

“The cold is sobering,” you replied, eyes trailing back to the city. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Yoongi took a few steps forward, until he was standing next to you. He contemplated the view, and to your surprise he tilted his head back to look at the clouds.

“The sky looks like it’s on fire,” he commented.

You imitated the position, your eyes trailing to the sky. Indeed, the clouds were shining orange, reflecting the neon lights of the city below. “It does,” you agreed. “Would make for good song lyrics.”

He chuckled. “You never stop thinking about music, do you?”

“I don’t.” You paused, and the feeling of his heavy gaze on your profile had you look at him. “Do you?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, slightly. “Sometimes, I think it’s a gift. Other times, it feels like it’s a curse.”

Understandable. Because if the grind never stopped, then neither could you.

“I’ve started writing a new song,” you revealed, as it felt fitting in the moment. Your eyes trailed back to the city below, and you wondered if this city, this collection of shimmering lights, was what you were referring to in your lyrics. If it was the dream you were writing about. “Why is it that most of my songs are sad or angry?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything for a long time. Only contemplated the city in a pensive silence. Wind lapped at his coat, at your hair, and you shivered again. Your own coat was tightly wrapped around you, but it did nothing to keep the cold at bay.

“Are you sad and angry?” he asked.

You pondered for a time. “It’s hard to let go of emotions that have been integral parts of your life for so long.”

To your surprise, he stepped closer to you. Maybe because it was cold, and your bodies gave off heat, just enough for you to be attracted to each other. Like your gravity sucked him in, and soon enough his arm was pressed against yours.

“The letting go is the hardest part,” he admitted. “Because it’s a comfort zone. But once you allow yourself to feel… it’s a whole new world.”

“How did you do it?”

He sighed, and his eyes dropped to the ground beneath your feet, no longer admiring the city. “I’d say it’s Hoba, that helped me the most. But all of them. They showed me that there’s more to life than anger and sadness.”

“Your music still carries it, though,” you pointed out.

“It does.” Head hung low, Min Yoongi looked the perfect example of defeat. Like he’d run a race, reached the end only to realize he was going in the wrong direction. “The emotions still exist. I still experience them sometimes. And…” he trailed off, looking in the distance. “It’s what my fans want of me. They don’t expect me to release soft music all that much.”

“So, you’re doing it for the fans?”

He smiled, softly. “I love my fans. I’d be nothing without them.”

A year ago you would have been deadly jealous but now, now you had fans of your own. You could understand him.

“They love you too,” you reminded him. “They’d still love you if you released different music.”

He shrugged. “I have an album coming soon. It’s different.”

“Is it?”

A car honked in the world far below. “It is. I can send it to you, if you want to listen.”

“I’d love to.”

He met your gaze, and for a moment it was as if winter had ceded its place to summer, and warmth blossomed inside of you. “As long as you let me read your lyrics.”

You winced, chuckling lightly. “Maybe when the song is ready.”

He faced you, extending a hand in the air between you. “Deal.”

You grabbed his fingers, gently. They were cold, terribly so, and you felt bad for forcing him to be out here. “Deal,” you agreed, shaking his hand.

His thumb moved on the back of your hand, slowly, drawing a strange pattern. Current flew through your bloodstream, and you shivered once more, for a completely different reason this time.

Your brain chose this moment to remind you of that night, months ago, when you had gone to his place wanting to tell him how he had made you feel. When you had seen him with his ex, with his girlfriend. When you had realized he had chosen her, though he had never really known you were an option, had he?

You let go of his hand, albeit reluctantly, but you remained facing him.

“You never told me…” you started, but didn’t know if you should finish. Mostly because you didn’t think it was a good idea to ask, not when the evening still shone like a thousand stars. Especially now that Yoongi was looking at you again, with that fond glimmer in the depths of his eyes.

“What?” he asked after a few seconds, voice small in the infinity of the world.

“You never told me why you broke up with your girlfriend, in the end.”

If the world could stop breathing, you were pretty sure it did, in that instant. It held its breath, as you watched Min Yoongi carefully.

“She cheated on me, before I met you,” he revealed, flatly. “Claiming I was too absent. I took her back when she came back… because I felt lonely. Realized she was the source of the loneliness and broke up for good.”

You held his gaze, hoping yours held nothing of how you felt. Because you felt a lot, as the truth reached your ears. You ached for him, ached at knowing that he had felt like that back then. But you ached for yourself too, because what else had he been pursuing with you other than the company she couldn’t give him?

You had just been in the right place at the right moment. Something that he had been able to use for comfort. The way you had sought his comfort, perhaps.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a while. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

His eyes were unreadable, but his cheeks were tinged red with the cold. He looked pretty, angelic, in front of you. With the burning clouds overhead, you’d almost think he was a fallen angel.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, his voice low once more. Intimate, just for you. “I never should have let her back in.”

“Why?” you asked, and your throat suddenly felt dry. You tried to swallow, but a lump made you gulp.

“Why did you actually come to me, that night?” he asked. “Not when we recorded the song. After we…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was referring to.

He was referring to the night you had believed you could confess to him how you had felt. To that night, where hope turned to decay, and all you could do was let go of comfort. All you could do was go back to the sad discomfort that was your life.

“I…” You bit your lip, pulling on some dry skin. “I wanted to tell you what it had meant for me? When we slept together.”

He gulped. You could visibly see it, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “And what did it mean?”

Your gaze dropped in the vague space between you. It felt infinitesimally immense right now, like he was an entire universe away. “We shouldn’t be speaking about that.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends now.” You met his gaze, surprised to find his pained. “Friends don’t speak about such things.”

“True friendship is when there’s no taboo subject, is it not?”

Min Yoongi and his wisdom would be the death of you.

“I guess it is,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to ruin this.”

He took a step closer to you. So close you could feel his warmth, even though the night was cold. “Why would it ruin anything?”

Your heart beat faster, in your chest. Reaching a speed unknown to it, one that left you breathless. “Because…”

Because what? You didn’t even know. You weren’t drunk, at least not on alcohol. But you sure were drunk on the aftertaste of winning the award, of being right here with him on top of this building as if you were standing in your own pocket in this world. A little like it felt down at the party, but so much more. So much so that you pictured yourself leaning in, falling into his orbit.

“I don’t think it’d ruin anything,” he said, voice so low you really felt yourself leaning in. “I was there that night. I know how it felt.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I told you I didn’t do regret, right?” he asked, question seemingly out of the blue.

“You did.”

“I regretted what I did to you, for the longest time. Thought I deserved to be lonely. So it wasn’t just because of her, that I broke up. It was because of you too. I regret going back to her in the first place.”

Softly, like a feather falling or snow dancing in the wind, your heartbeat found a steady rhythm once more.

“You shouldn’t have regretted,” you said, and you surprised both of you as your hand reached between you, and you cupped his cheek. “I don’t think we would have worked, then.”

“Why?”

“We were too different.” You chuckled, infinitely sadly. “We still are, aren’t we?”

“We’re not different in the ways that matter,” he pointed out.

And when he leaned forward, you welcomed him in as one welcomes a lover home from the war. You let him press his chapped lips on yours, let his mouth move against yours in the slowest dance. As if he was afraid you’d pull away, but tonight you didn’t want to pull away.

It wasn’t about seeking comfort anymore. It really was about going home, to something that could be great.

You kissed Min Yoongi under the clouds, in the winter night. You kissed him with all the longing you had felt, though you had been trying to ignore it. It came back, far stronger now, and it made you grab at his collar so you could pull him closer. He sighed in the kiss, big hands finding your waist, holding you in place.

And when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, your breaths mingled, forming a single cloud that moved up towards the sky.

“See?” he murmured. “Nothing to be ruined.”

“Yoongi,” you breathed.

He said your name, and then pulled away, just enough for his eyes to flutter open. You looked at him too, and when your gazes met, you understood that it really had been supposed to happen this way all along. You hadn’t been supposed to be with him then. Because it was unprofessional, yes, but mostly because you would have always felt like you weren’t enough.

Hell, you didn’t know if you were enough right now, but you were already something more.

“Do you want to go in?” he asked after a moment of gazing at each other. “I’m starting to freeze.”

You laughed, the sound lighter than dust in the sun. “Yes.”

“I’d invite you to my hotel room but…” he trailed off, resting his forehead against yours again. “Let’s take this slow. Let’s wait until we’re back home.”

“We’re going home tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s still slower than going at it tonight, no?”

“We can wait longer,” you said, and you were the one that pulled away this time around. Because you needed to look him in the eye when you said the next words. “If we’re going to really do this, I want to do it the right way.”

His smile shed warmth and light on every dark spot of your soul, until you were shining from within. “Works for me.”

*****

Dating Min Yoongi felt strange. Unreal, like it was a dream come true. Like you were walking the land of dreams, and really you wished you wouldn’t have to wake up. You didn’t think you would – he pulled through every day. Met you in the middle, in the places that mattered most. He supported you as an artist, and supported you as a person too.

But for some reason, you hadn’t been able to fully give yourself to him yet. You had only been going on dates, never sleeping over, never sleeping together. And if he minded, he never said it.

The holidays came, and Yoongi invited you to a party hosted by Jeong Hoseok. All the other members were in attendance too, except Kim Taehyung, who apparently was away in Daegu for the week. Some of the members also had their partners with them – in truth, everyone did, except Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Jeong Hoseok, though the latter had a friend over that seemed a little too comfortable with him for her to just be a friend.

The girlfriends were nice. Sweet, another group of friends you hadn’t expected to make. None of them treated you differently because you were somehow famous, probably because they were all dating people far more famous than you’d ever be. You got along with Hoseok’s friend the most, and you thought it was only because it was also her first time meeting everyone.

The party was fun. It was more of a dinner, with alcohol and food like a banquet for the gods. You ate so much you thought you couldn’t walk anymore after, yet you managed to make your way home with Yoongi.

Because this time, when he had asked you to sleep over, you hadn’t found it in you to refuse. Perhaps because it was the holidays, and the feeling of coziness and comfort that the days oozed had you wanting to drown in his familiarity.

If Yoongi noticed the switch in you, he didn’t say. Ever so the patient man when it came to you.

You looked at him, during the drive home. His features shone softly, in the neon light of the streetlamps. It made his skin glow like honey, like amber. You reached between you, grazing your fingers on his cheek.

“What?” he asked, letting out a small chuckle. “Have they made you drink too much?”

You snorted, resting your head against your seat. “No.”

He spared a quick glance at you, before resuming his attention on the street in front of him, as he was the one driving the car. Indeed, for this private dinner you had all chosen to drive yourself, instead of asking for the company to drive you around.

“What’s up, then?”

You sighed, a little dreamily. “You’re pretty, Min Yoongi.”

It was hard to tell in this light, but you were pretty sure his cheeks had dusted with pink. “And then you say you haven’t drank too much?”

You laughed. “It’s just a compliment!”

“You don’t usually compliment me like this,” he pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong, but it felt fitting, tonight. Because you were staying over, maybe.

“Well, I should start doing it. You deserve it.”

He snorted. “You’re adorable.”

Now, it was your turn to blush, and your eyes trailed to the street in front of you.

“Am I?”

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers. “You sure are.”

When you got to his place, Yoongi parked his car in the underground parking lot. He forced you to stay in your seat while he walked around the car to hold the door open for you, and you swatted his arm as you got up.

“You know you don’t have to do this with me?”

“But I want to,” he said, pouting. “Can’t I do something for you once in a while?”

“You always do stuff for me.”

It was true. Whatever you needed Yoongi was always ready to provide, whether it was help with some lyrics or a hug.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do more,” he said as you stepped out of the car, standing next to him.

By instinct, you reached between you, one hand resting on his waist as you tilted your head back, slightly, enough to be looking up at him.

“Right,” you breathed, and your eyes moved to his lips as he wet them.

“What’s that look on your face?” he asked, voice low and husky.

You smirked, ever so slightly. “What look?”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to you, and the smirk disappeared. “So you want to be a brat?”

You hadn’t expected that of him. In truth, you didn’t really know how he was sexually, considering the only time you had had sex with him was when you were both drunk and vulnerable, trying to chase comfort in the other’s touch.

“Do you like that?” you asked, breathlessly.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, before pulling away to explore your features with that dark gaze of his. “I like whatever you like.”

“So if I tell you to get on your knees and eat me out you would?” you whispered, smirk moving back to your lips.

He had the decency to blush as he spared a careful look around. “Here?”

You pondered, tilting your head to the side to reveal the soft skin of your neck. “You think we can wait until we’re upstairs?”

“Anyone could see us.”

You looked around. “The garage is empty.”

He murmured your name, dangerously. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Then we shall die together.”

It was the last thing you said before he pressed his lips against yours, ravishing your mouth in a wet kiss that had you moan. His large hands found your sides, pulling you back against the car until you were stuck between it and him. His tongue toyed with yours, exploring your mouth until you were panting, feeling the start of his erection on your lower stomach.

He pulled away, just enough so he could move down and press warm kisses on your jaw. He then bent down a little more, reaching your shoulder, and he bit at the skin over the collar of your coat.

You breathed out his name, sensually, as your hands got lost in his long locks. It only enticed him further, and he grinded into you. It made you throw your head back, and this time he nipped at your neck, not so gently, eliciting another moan from you.

“Gosh, Yoongi,” you said, and he raised his head to look at you.

His pupils were blown wide in his eyes, clear indicators of his lust for you. They made his gaze look like a bottomless pit, one you jumped in right as you pulled him back into another kiss, sucking on his bottom lip.

You blindly reached for the knob of the car’s door, the one for the backseat behind you, and when you found it you pushed Yoongi away, just so you could open it. As you did so, he shut the passenger side door, and he followed you in as you lied on the backseat.

He hovered over you, hair falling around his face, and you pushed it away from his face, holding it in a ponytail-like grip. Some strands escaped the confines of your fist, softly cascading the sides of his face again.

Min Yoongi was a prince. A prince and an angel. A dream, something you had never thought you’d witness yourself in your entire life. And witness you did, with your eyes and every inch of your body that you knew he’d come to worship. Just like you worshipped him and the ground he walked on.

“What?” he murmured as you just kept carefully surveying him.

“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed, and you watched as his mouth fell open.

He had never been good at accepting compliments, even those coming from you.

He whispered your name like a lover’s caress. “So are you. You’ve been a vision, ever since the first time I saw you.”

You wet your lips. “The first time?”

“I was walking in Hongdae, with some company staff. Didn’t get recognized by some dumb twist of luck I’d say. But you were busking.” You thought you could see him gulp. Hear him, as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t walk away. Just kept looking at you, for so long the staff started getting worried. Because they didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. But gosh, you were so beautiful.” He chuckled, lowly. “It was like I had walked into a temple and seen a goddess.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, because you too weren’t good with compliments.

But he wasn’t done.

“And you sang. The voice of an angel, if I’m honest. I was entranced. Then I spent weeks trying to find you, making staff go to Hongdae to try and get your name. Because I needed to know you. Needed to know you weren’t just a construct of my imagination.”

He pecked your lips this time, as if he really needed to make sure you were real.

“When I started listening to your music, I recognized myself in the lyrics,” he admitted. “That’s why I approached you in the first place, and then I just…” He rested his forehead against yours, and your eyes fluttered shut. “I just needed to have you in my life. Any way whatsoever. I was stupid to stay with Yejun, because I think I already knew then that I was going to fall in love with you.”

You repeated his name, like he was a melody. And to you he was. He was your melody, the music that made your soul dance. The muse to your mind, and the song to your heart. “We all are stupid sometimes.”

He chuckled. “I’m relieved the months have led me to you after all. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“You do.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, trying to bring him closer. “You deserve everything in this world.”

The following kiss was slow. Languid, as if he needed to trace his love into you, using his lips to build you anew. It was beauty personified, comfort revived. Everything in you went steady, and then sang to the melody he carried, the one you carried together.

When he pulled away from the kiss to look at you with his dark eyes, cheeks flushed from the ministrations, you read the desire on his features, like one would read a sheet music. Unsure at first, focusing, until the language of music took over you.

At least, that was how it worked for you.

“I want you,” you breathed in the space between you, and he nodded.

“I know.” He laughed, looking around. “You made me get in this car for that reason, didn’t you?”

You barely remembered. All you knew was that you never wanted to exit the safety of this nest, with him. Of his embrace, and of the fondness and desire in his eyes. Whatever song passion was about to have you dance to, you were ready to jump in, feet first and soul open.

“Eat me out,” you breathlessly begged, and his pink lips parted slightly.

“I’m no contortionist,” he joked, unexpectedly. “Can you move up?”

You laughed, slightly pushing him so he knelt between your legs. “You’re annoying. Yes I can.”

He offered you his secretive smile, and then his hands deftly discarded you of your coat. He took his off too, throwing both on the passenger seat. “Then what are you waiting for?”

You bit your lip, a mischievous glint igniting in your eyes. “I think you should work for it.”

At that his face went fully dark, like all the light had gone out. He looked like the devil incarnate, the fallen angel you had thought to see on the rooftop of the hotel some weeks ago.

He said your name like a warning, and it made your head cock to the side. “Aren’t you a good boy? I think I remember you liked me ordering you around last time.”

In truth, you weren’t even sure he had. Just felt like being a brat, and you had always been more on the dominant side anyway.

“As I said,” he murmured, and he bent down to ravish another kiss on your lips, “my goal is to make you feel good. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

That was enough for you, and you quickly moved up until your back was resting against the car door. He took off your shoes, before pulling your dress pants down your legs.

“I’m already dripping,” you purred, hand reaching to palm yourself over your panties. “I think I’ve been dripping all night thinking about you.”

He chuckled. “So you’ve been thinking about fucking me all night?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just wanted to make you wait.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Eat me out and I’ll tell you.”

He let out a sound between a groan and a moan, and then he moved back, resting one knee on the ground so he could position himself between your legs. “Fuck, baby.” He looked at your clothed cunt, and then his eyes met yours again. “You really are dripping. I don’t even have to touch you.”

You breathed out an uneven breath. “Touch me.”

It was his turn to smirk, though he still obeyed, leaning forward so he could kiss your entrance over your panties. “Like this?”

“You’re a brat,” you said.

“Maybe.”

“Fucking eat me out, Min Yoongi, before I decide not to have sex with you tonight.”

Emboldened, he said, “As if you’d step away now.”

This time, he sucked on your clit, eyes never leaving yours. The devil incarnate indeed. Though, it seemed he had teased you enough, because he pulled your panties to the side, and his tongue dove once between your folds.

“You taste so good,” he praised.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, and then he lapped at your entrance, before swirling his tongue around your clit. “Yeah.”

When his mouth closed around the sensitive nub and he sucked hard, your lips parted on a silent moan, eyes closing tightly with the pleasure that moved through you.

“You know,” he said, barely pulling away. You could feel his hot breath on your pussy, and it only made you ache for him. “This time I want you to come. I’ll make you fucking come until you can’t walk anymore.”

“Jesus, fuck, Yoongi,” you uttered, and you cracked an eye open to see him smirking devilishly between your legs. “You go all romantic on me and then you say that?”

The smirk turned into a smile, and he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Can’t I be romantic and want to make you feel good at the same time?”

“What are you doing talking to me, then?” you asked. “Shouldn’t you be –“

He didn’t let you finish before he dove back in, and this time he dove hard. As if he wanted you to forget every word in the dictionary, every song you had ever sang. All that was left was the sounds of your pants and moans, entwined with the squelching of his fingers when they started slipping in and out of you, following the same relentless pace as his tongue.

Yoongi was too skilled with his tongue. You remembered as much from that night months ago, even though you had been drunk then. You were a little drunk today, but the alcohol had mostly worn off on the way home. So it didn’t surprise you when an orgasm bubbled on the horizon, rushing towards you faster than you had expected it to.

When Yoongi sucked hard, teeth grazing your clit, you lost it, crashing into your high like a car crashing into a wall at eighty miles per hour. You cried out, something that resembled his name, and your hands pulled at his locks, as your hips rocked forward.

He planted a firm hand on your stomach to force you to stay down as he pulled away, resting his head against your inner thigh. His gaze met yours, and he resumed the movements of his fingers.

You hadn’t noticed he had stopped in the first place.

“That felt good?” he asked.

It felt better than good. It felt like a symphony, a complete orchestra guiding you to heaven. A choir, beautiful, angelic.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Fuck it did.”

He smirked, content, as he fingered you, slowly. “That was only the first one.”

“We’re going to have to work on you too,” you purred. “I want to see you come.”

Your words shut him up, as he inhaled sharply, lust burning so bright in his pupils you thought he might combust in front of you. Yet, he pressed into that sweet spot inside of you, arching his fingers so he could play with it until you were seeing stars again.

You stopped him before he could make you come. Mostly because, when you squirted, you were done for after. You weren’t ready to be done tonight.

“Let’s go up to your condo,” you suggested as he threw you a questioning glance. “As much as fucking in a car’s hot, I’d prefer the comfort of your bed.”

“Your wish is my command,” he agreed, and he sucked a hickey on your inner thigh before pulling his fingers out of you. He put your panties back in place gently, and his eyes fell to his fingers. You both watched as he spread them, strings of your juice connecting the digits still. “Fuck, look at this.”

“That’s all because of you,” you praised. “A good fucking boy.”

He chuckled, wetting his lips. “Always, for you.”

He licked at his fingers, as if to clean them, before he seemed to consider something else. When he brought them closer to your mouth, you huffed a moan before wrapping your lips around the digits, sucking as your tongue cleaned them. His breathing turned a little ragged, and he looked as if he was seconds away from fucking you right then and there when you pulled away with a satisfying pop.

“Everything okay?” you asked, teasingly.

“The elevator ride is going to be so long,” he muttered, and you let out a laugh as you pulled your pants up your legs.

He handed you your shoes, and you quickly put them back on as he got out of the car, grabbing the coats on the passenger seat. It took you a few seconds, but soon enough, you were out too, ready to go up.

Yoongi wasn’t wrong. Just waiting for the elevator took forever, and when you were encased in it, you both exchanged a look so full of longing you jumped on him, grabbing his collar so you could pull him into a heated kiss. He pushed you against the wall, sucking on your bottom lip as the elevator moved up, ever so slowly.

It felt like time was stretching, turning to infinity, and he was sucking a hickey on your neck by the time the elevator came to a halt, doors sliding open on his level.

You walked out, hot and bothered, making your way to his door. He dialed the code in, pushed the door open, and as soon as it was closed, he was on you again, pressing you against the door. He must have dropped the coats on the floor, because his hands held your cheeks as he kissed you stupid, toying with your mouth with that wicked tongue of his.

“Yoongi,” you moaned in his mouth, and he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours.

You both breathed raggedly for a few seconds, and then he grabbed your hand, moving it to where his dick pressed against his pants.

“You got me so fucking horny,” he said, and he chuckled, low sound that reverberated through every inch of you. “I’m so fucking hard and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

“Should I suck your dick?” you asked. “I feel like you’d be coming down my throat in no time.”

He moaned as you palmed it harder, and he grinded his hips, seeking friction. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Whatever?” you asked, and you let out a small dangerous laugh. “So if I ask you to fuck my ass you would.”

It wasn’t that you wanted that. You just knew he was wrapped around your finger, ready to obey your every command. The way his dick twitched under your hand told you so, and he let out a breathy sound.

“You like that?” he asked.

You captured his lips in a kiss, and once you pulled away, you said, “It could be fun. But I’d rather have you fuck my pussy tonight.”

He nodded against you, before straightening. His gaze drank you in for a few seconds, and you admired his swollen lips. They looked even prettier like this, especially knowing that you were the cause of it. That your ministrations made him look like this, like he was minutes away from losing it.

You were going to make sure he did. But first, you wanted to make your way to his room. Because as much as you wanted him, you weren’t an animal. You could wait a moment longer.

“Let’s go to your room,” you told him. “Then you can fuck me.”

“Alright,” he said, and he added your name like a sinful melody. “You think you can come around my dick?”

“Fill me up and we’ll see.”

He let out a small whiny moan, and then you pushed him away so you could take off your shoes. He kicked his off too, a little awkwardly, and a moment later you were following him up the stairs, both of you ignoring the barking of his dog.

Yoongi had taken to caging Holly in the kitchen, mostly because he didn’t want the little dog to pee on the carpet of the living room once more. You both ignored the dog, and you would have felt a little guilty had he not thrown you a lustful look over his shoulder.

“I’ll fill you up just fine, if that’s what you want,” he said, in response to what you had said earlier. “I’ll fill you up and watch you drip with my cum after.”

Your mouth fell open, mostly because you were surprised at his crude words.

“You know, I thought you’re more of a sub,” you admitted, and you chuckled. “Seems getting you horny makes you a brat too, uh?”

“Seems you make me a brat,” he replied, and he chuckled too, slightly shaking his head. “I am more of a sub though. Hence why I’ll do whatever the fuck you want.”

You reached his room, and you cocked your head to the side as he paused in the doorway, turning to look at him.

“Take off your clothes.”

If he was surprised by your command, he didn’t let it show. He instead obeyed, slowly unbuttoning the pale nude colored dress shirt he was wearing.

Some Valentino dress shirt he had worn in Paris, that you had told him you loved too much for him not to wear again. He had taken to wearing it more often than not, especially when it was just the two of you.

The shirt fell softly to the ground, slowly. It puddled at his feet, and he cocked his head to the side as your eyes roamed his figure. Barely stopping on the scars on his shoulder, scars you promised yourself you’d kiss later, when the sins had come to completion.

He took his time to rid himself of his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. They burned with desire, so much so that you thought you had caught fire. You weren’t sure you were hearing an angelic choir anymore – you rather thought you had descended straight to Hell, and you were more than okay with it.

The pants fell at his ankles, and he stepped out, blinking once. “Should I take this off too?” he asked, thumbs hooking in his underwear.

“That and the socks,” you said, nodding your head.

He bit his lip, wet it, and then the boxers joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. He bent down, took off the socks, and then he was standing again, in his full naked glory, hard dick standing proud against his stomach. You took a step closer, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, and you pressed a kiss on his jaw.

“Were you good enough for me to suck you a little?” you asked. You nipped at the skin of his neck, and he let out a soft moan. “I’ll suck you if you promise you won’t come.”

He laughed, and he sounded a little scared, but infinitely turned on. “I’ll try.”

You held his dick tighter. “You’re going to have to do better than try.”

He didn’t reply, just surveyed you with his dark lustful eyes, as you dropped to your knees. As if he needed all his focus on not coming, even as he drank in the sight of you on your knees for him. Already licking your lips, remembering just how good he tasted then.

He tasted just as good today. Maybe even a little more, because he was yours, and that had to account for something. He tasted like ambrosia, like the wine of the gods. His dick was rock hard in your mouth, and his eyes shut as soon as you started working on him.

Probably because, if he was to look at you for a moment longer, he was going to come. He really was wrapped around your fingers again, and so you offered the best you had to offer. And when his breathing turned so ragged you were pretty sure he was about to lose his fight against his orgasm, you pulled away.

It looked like it pained him, but when you got up and captured his lips in yet another languid kiss, he kissed you back with a fervor you almost weren’t expecting. It made your head spin, until you were a moaning mess.

Or maybe that was because he had sunk two fingers inside of you again, sliding his hand in your pants, and he was fucking you like that.

“You’re so,” he started, and he hissed as you bit at his neck, “so wet. I’m going to slide right in.”

You rested your head against his shoulder as his fingers kept fucking you, so quickly your legs started trembling. You grabbed his wrist, trying to slow him down, but if there was a thing about Min Yoongi that you were now realizing, it was that he was just as skilled with his fingers than with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you hissed against his shoulder. “Stop, I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss on your temple, and his digits left you empty. He teased your clit for a moment, and your teeth sunk in his skin in retaliation. He cursed under his breath, but he finally slid his hand out of your pants, bringing it up to his mouth to clean himself.

You didn’t move as he did so, mostly because your legs still felt infinitely weak. You only moved when he grabbed your shoulders gently, pushing you away just enough for you to meet his gaze.

“You want me to fuck you?” he teased, and you clenched your jaw.

As you loosened it, your tongue poked at your cheek and your eyes turned dark. Lustful, sinful. Vengeful. “I didn’t tell you you could finger me like this, did I?”

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

You grabbed his balls, squeezing lightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to have him tense next to you. “Oh, I enjoyed plenty. Now, why don’t you get the clothes off of me?”

He smirked, nodding against you, and then he pulled away. His large skilled hands quickly rid you of your clothing, and soon enough you were standing naked next to him.

“Should I fuck you now?” he asked, with that same bratty attitude he was just now getting.

“Bed,” you ordered. “I’ll fuck myself on you.”

“You want to use me?”

You captured his lips in a kiss, sucking on his tongue when it slid in your mouth. “I will use you.”

At that he gulped, but it was enough to convince him to obey. He finally moved towards the bed, laying down on the pillowy softness of his mattress, hands propped behind his head. He surveyed you carefully as you stalked closer, though you aimed for his night table first.

“Is that where you keep your condoms?” you asked.

He seemed scared for a time, sitting up quickly with a widened gaze. “Let me get that for you.”

You paused, hand on the knob of the drawer. “Got something to hide?”

He gulped, seemingly searching for words. His tongue darted on his pink lips, and then he let out a nervous chuckle. “Not really.”

“Okay?” you said, cocking your head to the side. “So I can open this?”

He breathed in, holding his breath as he nodded.

It wasn’t anything embarrassing, if you were honest. All you found in the drawer were condoms, lube and a pair of handcuffs. At least that was what you thought at first glance. You met his gaze, grabbing the handcuffs. Though your fingers grazed something else, and you shot a confused look to the drawer.

That was when you noticed the black anal plug. Your lips parted, and your gaze met Yoongi’s once more.

“So you do like anal play, do you?” you breathed out.

He looked away from you, though a smirk played on his lips. With that deep, scratchy voice of his, he said, “Can’t say that I don’t.”

You let go of the handcuffs, grabbing the anal plug instead. “You use that on yourself?” you asked, raising it in the space between you.

“Both me and my partners,” he replied truthfully.

You grabbed the lube, and then made your way to the bed. “I’ve never had an anal plug in before,” you admitted. “Now you’ve got my curiosity piqued.”

He laughed, and it wasn’t horny or anything of the sorts. Just sweet. “You want to try?”

The dominant side of you wanted you to say you’d rather put it in him, but there was something about the unknown that made your breath hitch in your throat. Because you did want to know.

You put the plug and lube on the bed, before sitting next to him. He put a large hand on your thigh, running it up and down leaving goosebumps behind. He was looking at you expectantly, and you bit your lip, finally nodding your head yes.

“I’d love to try.”

He leaned closer, pecking your lips once in a familiar gesture before motioning to his bed. “I’d recommend getting on all fours. Face-first in the pillows.”

“What makes you think you can order me around, mmh?” you purred.

His hand gently cupped your neck, skilled fingers immediately finding the arteries. He didn’t choke you right away, instead forcing you to tilt your head back. He sucked a hickey on your jaw, and you hissed, trying to move away, but he was firmly holding you into place.

“The fact you want me to use my toys on you, maybe?”

The fucking brat.

You rarely were silenced, when it came to sex, but it seemed Yoongi had found how to render you mute.

He smirked, and then he choked you, mouth finding yours in yet another hot, languid kiss that left your mind spinning. Or maybe that was the absence of a blood flow to your head. All you could do was reach between you, aiming blindly for his dick. He was rock hard, and you jerked him off slowly, mostly because you were too focused on the kiss. On every swipe of his tongue, on every grunt he emitted.

When he pulled away, fingers finally letting go of your neck, you breathed in shakily.

“I guess I’ll get on all fours then,” you said.

It must have sounded funny, because Yoongi laughed, pecking your forehead. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek once more, and you slightly shook your head. “You really are going to be the death of me.”

“Just trying to make you feel good,” he said, face falling fully serious. Serious and dark, like he was about to ruin you. And you liked the switch in dynamics, even though you had always been more of a dom yourself.

You positioned yourself, ass up and face down in the pillows. Yoongi kneeled behind you, and you heard more than you saw when he uncapped the lube bottle. You startled a little when the first drop of cold liquid hit your asshole, but when Yoongi started rubbing it around, your eyes shut and you focused on the feeling.

Though new and foreign, it was a pleasurable feeling, one that made your pussy clench around nothing. Especially as Yoongi pushed against the tight ring of muscle, dipping his thumb inside.

“You think your virgin ass can take it?” he asked.

He moved his thumb out, then in again, slowly. You gulped, eyes still tightly squeezed shut. “I can take it for you.”

He remained silent, and you cracked an eye open to look at him. His cheeks and his upper chest were flushed red, and his gaze dripped with lust for you. You wanted to swim in the lust, to drown in it. No matter what it took.

His thumb slid out, replaced by a finger. A second later, another finger joined, and you let out a breathy sound. Gazes still connected, your mind zeroed in on him fingering your ass, slowly. When he figured you were ready enough, which he probably understood by the breathy sounds and moans falling from your mouth, Yoongi’s digits left you empty. They were soon replaced by the plug that he lightly pressed against the ring of muscle, never pushing in.

“It’s likely to hurt,” he warned you. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“You’d rather me put it in your ass?” you said through gritted teeth.

He bent down, pressing a kiss on your cheek before he straightened again. “I’ve done it countless times before, I’m a lot more used to it than you.”

“Just put it in, Yoongi,” you said, voice low.

He smirked, and when he started pushing in, you clenched your hands in fists, grabbing at the comforter of his bed. He was right – it hurt. But you wanted to show him you could take it, wanted to prove you could, and so you kept the pained whimper in. Kept your gaze connected to his, trying to keep your face neutral too.

It took a moment, and Yoongi had to pull it out a couple of times before he actually managed to get it all the way in, but a few minutes later, the anal plug was fully embedded into you, making you feel full in a whole new way.

“How’s that feel?” he asked, large hands gently caressing your ass.

“Full,” you replied.

He laughed. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet.”

The thought that he was going to fuck you, while you were impaled by his anal plug… it had a moan bubble in your throat, unexpectedly. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Should I handcuff you too?”

Now, you needed to regain control. So you straightened, turning towards him. “I’ll cuff you. Lie down.”

He seemed surprised by the new switch in dynamics, but he still complied, lying down on his back as you fished the handcuffs out of his night table. You also grabbed a condom, and then you moved back to his side.

The key to the handcuffs currently was in the lock, and you took it out, eyeing it pensively. “Should I hide this?” you asked, gaze darting to Yoongi.

He gulped, turning his head to the side to regard you. His hair fell on his forehead, and you put the condom down so you could brush it away.

“Just put it on the night table, we don’t want to lose it.”

You tutted, but you still did as told, knowing that it would be a stupid thing to throw it somewhere in the room. You then gently grabbed one of Yoongi’s wrists, cuffing it. As you pulled his arm over his head, he himself brought his other wrist to you, and you imprisoned it too. You made sure it wasn’t too tight, before sitting back on your heels. It made the anal plug move inside of you, and you let out an unexpected moan.

His eyes widened at the sound, and you leaned down to steal a kiss on his lips.

“Now,” you said once you straightened. “Let me put this on.”

You grabbed the foil package, tearing it open to fish the condom out of it. Yoongi was still watching you carefully, awaiting your next move. You grabbed the base of his cock, before lazily stroking it. He gulped, lips parting slightly.

“You think you’re ready?”

He chuckled, glancing down to his dick. “Pretty sure I am.”

You smirked, cocking your head to the side, though you were done being a tease. You wanted to feel him, to have him inside of you. So you rolled the condom on with an expert hand before climbing on his lap. Your hands landed on his chest, and you gently ran them down, along his ribs, and then back up to settle around his neck.

His pretty eyes just watched, and suddenly warmth bubbled inside of you. Not arousal, but really the kind of warmth only looking at a lover can bring out of someone. You stilled, meeting his gaze, and you wondered if he could see the adoration filling your eyes.

He must have, because he said, “I am going to fall so hard for you.”

You bent down, and it was with lips connected that Yoongi pushed inside of you, slowly. It hurt, stretched and burned, with the anal plug, so he was gentle. He was soft, and when he was fully embedded in you, you pulled away. Just enough to meet his gaze, and see the passion lighting up the depths of his pupils.

“Gosh, Yoongi,” you breathed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Feelings swelled in your chest. Like wind catching in the sails of a boat, until you felt yourself rushing forward. Towards him, finally meeting him. Finally finding the comfort that was meant to be yours. You kissed him again then, slowly, languidly. Passionately, tracing a melody of love and desire on his lips. One he reciprocated, and his cuffed hands moved until his arms were wrapped around you, trapping you into place.

He slowly fucked up into you, lips never faltering against your mouth. He swallowed every little breathy sounds you let out, grunted on your lips until it seemed passion gained over love, and his pace increased. It increased until he was pounding into you, and it was his turn to grunt and moan against your lips.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, and he held you tighter, closer, crushing all of you against him. When his movements grew sloppy, you tried to pull away, but his cuffed hands kept you into place.

He chuckled, sucking on your shoulder. “You’re stuck here, baby.”

“I just want to fuck myself on you,” you whined.

He sighed. “I like having you close.”

The way he said it made you bite at his neck. “I want you to fucking come, Yoongi. I want to look you in the eye while you come.”

He moaned, and to your surprise he let you go, hands going back over his head. You straightened, eyes finding his, and his ragged breathing told you enough – he was going to come in no time. So you started moving, up and down, one hand massaging your breast while the other settled on his neck again.

“Faster,” he begged, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me,” you commanded.

He hissed, though his gaze found yours. He looked desperate, under you like this, and you smirked, tilting your head to the side. You still started going faster, and soon enough your second hand settled on his shoulder to give you better leverage.

Yoongi was close. You could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open, mind swimming in ecstasy as his high neared the horizon. You wondered how long he’d fight it – how long he’d keep his sinful gaze on you, just wanting to please you.

He moaned, loud, jaw going slack. Still, you didn’t feel the telltale twitch of his dick inside of you, telling you that he had yet to lose it. So you started choking him, moaning his name when his hips started moving up, meeting yours halfway. The sound of skin slapping on skin became louder, and a second later he cursed, loud and clear. His hands flew towards you, and you grabbed at the chain linking his two wrists, picking up the pace as he released inside of you.

Something about the twitch of his dick had you racing towards another orgasm, and you clenched around him. He probably figured what it meant, because he forced you to lean down, wrapping his cuffed hands around you. Holding you close, he fucked into you, rough. The feeling, combined with the anal plug, had you soaring up to the sky, and you came blindly, vision turning fully white.

He milked your orgasm, as it kept going on and on. You were a moaning mess, and his grunts entwined with your sounds until all that was left was you and him, breathing raggedly. You rested your forehead against his, and he kept you close as you came down from the high that sex with him consisted of.

He pulled out of you when your heart had finally calmed down in your chest, and you pulled away just enough to be able to look him in the eye, his cuffed hands keeping you from moving too far.

“Holy shit,” you said, and he laughed, softly.

“Yeah.” He pulled you down to press a kiss on your lips, before moving his hands over his head once more. “That was amazing.”

“Why did we wait?” you asked.

He laughed again. “I would wait for you for eternity.”

“You’re so cheesy, Min Yoongi,” you teased him, and you bent to peck his nose.

He smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m just happy.”

“Your happiness is a beautiful sight to see.”

There was a silence, of you gazing at each other. And you thought, you thought if the loneliness was meant to lead to this moment, right now, you’d do it all over again.

Because happiness, it really was a beautiful sight to see.

*****

You watched Yoongi carefully, as he read the lyrics of your song. You had finally managed to finish it, a month into the new year. It led somewhere else than you had first wanted it to, but you thought it was fitting.

You could only hope that he agreed with you.

You blinked as time stretched, with him just reading. You followed his eyes as they skimmed the paper, going back to some line once in a while. You didn’t know if it was because of disapproval, or because he liked your turn of phrase. It was hard to tell, because professional Yoongi was sitting across from you.

Professional Yoongi didn’t let his emotions show on his face.

Holly barked somewhere on your left, startling you. While Yoongi read, you went to the dog, petting it with clammy hands. Because the silence meant nothing good, right? He probably didn’t like the song.

Anxiety was starting to make you spiral when Yoongi said, “Wow.”

Relief flooded through you as you glanced at him. “What do you think?”

“Is this… it’s about us.”

You nibbled at your lower lip. “It is.”

He murmured your name, right as you straightened to walk back to where he was sitting, on the couch. You sat next to him, holding his gaze.

“Never thought I’d be someone’s muse someday.”

You threw him a no-bullshit look. “You are the muse of a lot of people, Yoongi.”

He smirked wickedly. “Am I?”

You said nothing, because really there was nothing to say. He just smiled, that gummy smile of his, and your heart swelled with fondness.

“You’re going to release this?” he asked.

You wet your lips, nodding your head. “I have an idea for a melody, but I thought you… maybe you could help?”

His eyes sparkled. “I have something that could work.”

He grabbed your hand, jumping to his feet to pull you behind him, towards his studio. Halfway up the stairs, you tugged on his hand, trying to gain his attention.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I want to release it with the song.”

He stopped walking, and you almost bumped into him.

“The song song?”

You nodded. “I was thinking of an EP? I have two other songs I used to play when I went busking that I never recorded. I thought, why not record and release everything together?”

His face split into a smile once again, and he pulled you in his chest. You almost fell, and it made the both of you laugh, until you finally started walking up the stairs again.

“It’s a good idea,” he said. “It’s going to be perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, because you doubted that it’d be perfect, but with Yoongi helping you, you knew it’d be good. And good was enough for you. Good was smiles and warmth and the flush of his cheeks whenever you complimented him.

Min Yoongi was good, in all the ways that mattered. He was good to you, and good to the world around him. He was good at what he did, producing a melody for you that resonated with your soul, with the lyrics you had put down on the paper. Lyrics that came back to your mind, as you watched him working on his computer, a focused look on his features.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to dreams

Bright lights and Heaven’s door

I knock and scream at them, open

In a world where no one knows my name

I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs

You’d think they’d ring true and high

But I think they’re the devil in disguise

They push me out and in the mud

I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me

In the land where no one knows my name

I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away

They say one day I’ll understand

But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay

It starts out slowly

Your light and darkness, everything

Success comes and goes, and I

If I make the rules, then I’ll make them bleed

Haters, they think they know

But ignorance is their song

They had me on my knees

Now I watch them beg, scream

I’ll never fucking care for them

In the land where no one knew my name

Now I look down to the world

And I think they live in hell

In the land where no one knew my name

I was no one, I was scraps and mud

The mud’s taken shape now

It screams of your name, more than mine

I was thrown to hell, burned eternity

But I made the rules, right?

If hell is for the lonely people

Then I think we’ve found each other

They brought me down when they could ay

Now I stand tall and proud

Who cares about Heaven, about the choirs

When you stand next to me

They thought they could bring me down

I laugh and say, “Watch them try”

But can they, when I’ve got you

We made the rules and now we reign

Over this hell of lonely people

And heavy is the crown, yeah

But light is the heart,

With you, a thousand eternities

Won’t be enough to bring us down

In the land where no one knew my name

Still you knew it

And isn’t that all that matters?

In the hours of darkness

Down in the mud

You said my name and I looked up

If hell is a lonely place

Then maybe you’re my heaven

And maybe, maybe you had always been meant to love Min Yoongi. Reigning over your little world, with him.

That night, you laid in bed entwined with him, listening to his deep breathing as he slept the night away. Silver light from the moon outside lit up his features, and you took a moment to admire him. To admire his softness, and the flutter of his eyelids whenever he moved in his sleep.

He looked like a prince, regal, eternal, lying next to you like this. His steady breathing was comfort, and his beauty was awe. It was unbelievable that he was yours, that he was to be by your side from now on and until the end.

Loneliness was a distant song, when Min Yoongi was next to you. And you knew he wasn’t to go, not anymore. Because, no matter how unbelievable it was, Yoongi was truly meant to reign over the world, with you.

So now you’d reign.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Woooow I hope we enjoyed this! I was really excited to post this after The Forgotten Spaces. What did we think?

Taglist:

@chimchimmarie | @pamzn

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shadowkoo · 8 months

Text

Baby Maker

→ Summary: You and Yoongi have been relishing the comfort of your newly married life, savoring each moment together. However, there's an additional want tugging at your heartstrings – the thought of becoming a mother. That’s right, you want a baby. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready for the journey of bringing a baby into your lives. But he’ll agree to anything that makes you happy, and if it’s a baby you want, it’s a baby you’ll get.

↠ myg x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: slice of life, romance, fluff, smut, newlyweds

→ Warnings: unprotected sex (intentional), daddy kink, impregnation kink, deep dicking, belly bulge, oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie

→ Author note: This is a remix/update of an older fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you'd like to read this on ao3 instead it's been crossposted here! And as always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

You wrap your arms around your husband the second he walks through the front door of your home.

"Mmm, I've waited all day for this," you whisper before pulling him into a long kiss. One of your hands cradles his cheek while the other plays with his hair.

"Well, hello there Mrs. Min," Yoongi says with a sideways smile sprawled across his face after pulling away, "What's got you in such a good mood?" He takes off his blazer and sets his work bag down on the bench in your entryway as you pull him into another lengthy kiss, one that makes Yoongi's groin stir with excitement.

You smile up at him and start to unbutton his top as you pull him further into your home, your end goal being the bedroom.

"Baby?" he asks with dark eyes, "Are you planning on spoiling me with dessert before dinner tonight?"

You laugh, "Baby, I don't want dessert... I want a baby."

Yoongi's face changes from one of eager anticipation to confusion, then to pure and utter shock.

‘Did all the air in the room suddenly disappear? Why aren’t you having trouble breathing like he is?’

"I want to make a baby with you," you repeat, looking into his fear-filled eyes. You figured he'd be a little freaked out, but not this much.

He coughs and sputters, pulling at the neck of his button-up shirt. "You, uh, b-baby?" Yoongi mutters once he’s able to form words again.

"Yes, a baby," you took a step back from him. "It's been almost three years since we've gotten married and talked about having kids in the future. Don't you want a mini you or me to love, to watch them grow, to teach them stuff?"

Yoongi is conflicted, not because he doesn’t want kids –he does– but it scares the shit out of him. That's a whole life to take care of and be responsible for. He knows how much you want a family though, and how patient you have been with him about trying for kids.

You give him that one look - the one that you know will get you whatever you want.

"Alright,” he says, easily won over. “Let's make a baby," he answers while pulling you back into his arms.

Yoongi brings your center up against his. You feel his growing hardness pressing into you through his jeans, and moan through the kiss. You want him.

And he wants you.

His kisses are hot and needy, but somehow still so very loving.

Yoongi lifts you up and carries you urgently the rest of the way to the bedroom, where he lays you down, ready to fuck you. To love you.

Your hands work on his shirt's buttons, undoing them as fast as you can. His run along your hips, making their way to the front of your jeans where he works to undo them, and slips them and your panties off simultaneously.

Your husband keeps eye contact with you while one of his hands slides slowly up the inside of your legs, right up to the edge of your dewy folds.

“Is this pretty little cunt ready for me?”

You nod frantically, and moan uncontrollably when his tongue dives deep into your core. He savors you, his tongue playing your clit like it's the most intricate instrument.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you hold his head in place while he finished you off. You come undone all over his face, his cheeks showing evidence of your release once he pulls away from you.

“I’ll never get tired of your taste,” he breathes. And it’s true, you’re intoxicating. He’s addicted to you.

Yoongi stands up, pulling you towards the edge of the bed, where he then rubs his throbbing cock through your folds, wetting himself just enough to dip into you.

He nearly loses himself, but manages to power through and find a rhythm that has you both heading in the right direction.

His low moans sound like heaven to your ears.

You pull him closer to you until your lips crash together, moaning into each other's mouth while you climb higher and higher.

Needing to sink even further into your heat, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pounding you from a new angle and bringing you closer and closer to the release that you crave.

“Who’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow? Who’s putting this baby in your belly? I want you to scream my name,” he demands.

“You did,” you pant. “Min Yoongi did.”

“Fuck!” Yoongi grits his teeth as he watches the way your lower belly bulges, matching his hard thrusts.

"I’m so close,” you cry out, your nails digging into your husband’s biceps. “Cum in me," you whine, pleading for him to release into you. Yoongi is more than happy to oblige.

"I love you,” you breathe as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the tingling spreading through your veins.

“I love you more.” Yoongi grunts, his final thrusts becoming more sporadic as he passes the peak, and fills you with his seed. His face twists in pleasure as your pulsating walls milk the last from him.

You’re satisfied feeling his warm release shooting up inside of you. A big grin won’t leave your face, “Thank you.”

He considers making a dick joke, but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “You’re welcome, baby,” he says, kissing your cheek.

You roll over onto your back and lift your now tired and heavy legs in the air, and Yoongi gives you a perplexed look. "What?” you ask, "I've heard that this makes the sperm find the egg faster."

He thinks you look ridiculous in the best sort of way, and joins you. "I gain nothing from this but I figured I'd do it to support you."

"You're such a dork." But you love him for it.

"You know what you have to call me later if this worked?" Yoongi asks before answering his own question before you even have the chance. "The baby maker."

Your giggles filled the room and Yoongi can’t help but laugh along with you.

"Alright," you sighed once you calmed down, "I just figured you preferred daddy..."

That same look from earlier flared up in Yoongi's eyes once again, "I'm open to negotiations."

#kvanity #myg #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #myg smut #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi au #suga fanfic #suga smut #suga au #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts drabble #bts smut #bts oneshot

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alphabetboyluvr · 7 months

Text

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered.

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs.

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it.

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour.

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him.

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve.

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it.

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet.

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now.

It's how it usually goes.

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much.

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong.

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet.

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage.

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him.

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan.

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details.

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down.

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish.

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all.

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later.

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless.

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this.

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously.

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun.

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight.

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear.

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate.

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties.

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks.

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy.

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation.

"Do you want me to?"

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it.

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him.

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score.

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation.

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer.

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival.

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other.

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms��and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months

Text

Friendcation (m) | myg | series masterlist

Summary: Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, “Y/N”) Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

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

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Word count: 110.5K (things got out of hand, lol and it's mainly smut 💀)

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: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain smut, almost in every chapter (not the first though).

Taglist: Closed. Status: Completed!

🍃 Chapter 1 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. Word count: 11,9K | Read → chapter one 🍃Chapter 2 Summary: When you get a flat tire, you think it’s bad luck, but when you fall flat on your ass and Yoongi offers to massage the pain away, has your luck finally turned? 😜 Word count: 12.7K | Read → chapter two 🍃Chapter 3 Summary: When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits? Word count: 11.9K | Read → chapter three 🍃Chapter 4 Summary: It’s the last weeks of the vacation being just you and Yoongi, and you’re going to savor every last bit of it. You do some hiking, relaxing and discover new sides to yourself that you didn’t know existed. Word count: 17.7K | Read → chapter four 🍃Chapter 5 Summary: Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin have finally joined you on your trip and it’s going great; you have a tremendous amount of fun (some at your expense), laughter and talks about life. Namjoon suddenly asks you where you think this thing with Yoongi is heading, and to be honest you don’t really know yourself – you just know that you love him. Word count: 23K | Read → chapter five 🍃Chapter 6 Summary: Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi. Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter six 🍃Chapter 7 [finale] Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad? Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter seven

🍃Extras🍃

🍃Winter special Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives? OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car. Word count: 10.3K | Read → the winter special

Author’s note: 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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run2yoongi · 1 year

Text

after hours | myg x reader

for whatever reason, your boss liked to work you to the bone. your countless hours of overtime and extra work never seemed to tide him over, he always expected more. after a year, your patience was wearing thin, so you finally decide to ask him what it is exactly he wants.

↳ pairing: boss!yoongi x reader

↳ setting: office worker au, kinda angsty, smut

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, bondage, unethical power dynamics/abuse of power, degradation, unprotected sex (dont do it bbyz), hurt and comfort, dacryphilia, mean dom!yoongi, teasing, spanking, creampie, no aftercare, female prefixes for reader (miss).

↳ side note: word count is 3.3k!

masterlist

"goodnight!" your coworker called out over his shoulder, waving at you as he rounded the corner and left you alone in your cold, clinical office. you hadn't even bothered to look away from your screen, just humming in response. you were tired. exhausted, if you were being honest with yourself.

you couldn't afford to be honest with yourself though, you didn't have the time. your boss, min yoongi, had asked you to send another updated report to him due in twenty minutes. you were scrounging through emails, looking to find a reference number that you knew your coworker probably hadn't even thought to send to you. it was getting impossible.

you glanced over to the corner of your desktop screen to check if you'd missed yet another dinner with the guy you'd been seeing on and off again for the last year.

7:12pm

not only were you meant to meet him at 7, but you were meant to finish work at 4. before you could even let out a frustrated sigh and search for your phone to apologise, you felt the weight of a hand rest on the back of your chair, tilting you backward, making you lose your balance.

your panicked eyes flew up to the perpetrator, coloured with a mix of anger and confusion. "do i need to enroll you in training for how to sit in a chair now?" yoongi spoke, an arrogant smirk tugging on his lips. if only he wasn't your boss, you'd think about slapping him.

you gathered yourself and swiftly sat upright, twirling the chair around slightly to break his grip. it had been over a year yet, you were still stunned by how beautiful your boss is. his dark hair was swept softly behind his ears, allowing the harsh office lighting to highlight the peaks of face, his nose and cheekbones. you'd accepted the job offer the second he'd extended it. how could you refuse a face like that?

you remembered how soft his lips looked when he'd smiled at you for the first time, right when you came in for your interview. if you'd known then that you'd be working 11 hour days, maybe you'd have realised that he was likely smiling because you'd fallen right into his trap.

"how's the report coming along?" he asked as his smirk faded into a stern line. you sighed, glancing back at your monitor. "i'm just looking for one last item, and i'll be done." you explained, attempting to keep the fatigue out of your tone to no avail.

"you're still new, but you should be working on your efficiency, y/n." he sighed, shifting his weight to lean on your desk. you swallowed the anger growing in your throat, nodding in response. "yes, sir." you bit the inside of your cheek, lost for words at his condescension. silence filled the room, and the tension in your stomach was growing unbearable.

what the fuck did he want from you?

none of your other coworkers had to submit daily reports, and you were the only one expected to bring everyone coffee in the morning, the only one expected to set up meeting rooms for yoongi without being asked, the only one who did almost four hours of over time every day.

"d-did everyone have to do all this when they started here?" you asked, gulping as you suppressed the anxiety that rose from questioning your boss. he raised an eyebrow at you, crossed his arms across his chest, and sighed, not breaking his scolding gaze. "what do you mean?"

"oh, i- uh." you stuttered, heat spreading across your face. "the reports, and the..." you trailed off, eyes darting across the empty office. "the overtime." you finished quietly.

yoongi stared at you, examining the pink flush growing across your cheeks and ears. his eyes flashed with amusement as you squirmed under his gaze, desperate for him to break the silence and answer the question. "i- i don't mind, it's just..." you stuttered, unable to look anywhere besides the floor beneath you.

"...you just?" he asked, voice dripping with levity.

"i mean, tonight, for example," you swallowed, struggling to find your words. "i had plans that i had to miss because of all the extra work." you heard him let out a short exhale, a silent laugh at your desperate plea. "extra work? you think you're working harder than your coworkers?" he mused. your eyes flew up to meet his teasing grin, shocked at his misinterpretation of your words. "that's not what i meant-" you began to explain, shifting in your seat.

"is there somewhere you'd rather be, miss y/n?" he asked smugly grinning at your panicked state. you hesitated, because yes, of course, there was somewhere you'd rather be. he stretched his hand out on your desk, sliding his pointer across it before checking for dust. "how about you finish the report, and then we can talk." he added, standing up from his position on your desk before straightening his blazer jacket and nodding his farewell at you.

after yoongi's brief intervention, you'd finished even later than you anticipated. the printer jamming didn't help either, you'd only managed to place your report on your boss's desk before 8pm. it was already dark out and you were contemplating calling an uber instead of catching the bus when yoongi interrupted your train of thought. "before you go," he spoke, gesturing to the seat in front of you at his desk. without a word, you took a seat, placing your hands in your lap.

"tell me about how you're being overworked." he invited, leaning back in his chair. your eyes flickered to the small of his waist, and you noted that he'd taken his jacket off, now tossed on the couch against the wall. you eyed his collar, the loosened tie, the top button undone. you'd never seen him disheveled like this.

"well?" he asked, noticing exactly where your eyes were going.

"i- i mean, i'm the only one here so far after hours." you spoke, stumbling over your words as you snapped out of your sinful thoughts. "and doing the team reports, i- i don't..."

a smile spread across his features as he slowly stood up from his chair and sauntered over to you, seating himself on his desk, his thighs only inches away from your knees. "i'm here too, you know." he spoke almost in a whisper, drawing you in. "you know the saying about diamonds being forged under pressure?" he added, not expecting an answer.

you shook your head, frustration building up and spreading across your body. "i guess i just don't know what you expect of me, sir." you sighed, unable to prevent the anger you felt slipping into your speech.

yoongi tutted, crossing his legs in front of you. "only the best from you," he laughed quietly. "you want to know how to please me, y/n?" he asked, fingers tracing down the length of his tie as his facade of professionalism seemed to vanish. you nodded, ignoring the icy sensation of butterflies in your stomach. he leaned over, lowering his face until it was just above yours. "be better." he spoke.

your eyes started burning and tears formed at their corners almost instantly. the sinking feeling in your stomach was almost painful as your chin quivered at the insult. you couldn't look at him. you had been working hellish hours, day in and day out at his request and this is how he regarded you. your view of the floor began to blur as a tear fell down your cheek and onto your thigh.

you flinched and closed your eyes as yoongi extended his arm to you and cupped your face, the pad of his thumb smearing a tear across your cheek. his touch was cold, providing relief for you in your heated state. you couldn't help but lean into his hand, despite your anger. "so pretty," he said under his breath as it hitched. you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused. through your blurred vision, you saw him swallow.

"fuck," he breathed, staring into your eyes as his hand went from your face to his mouth. you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to save yourself from the humiliation of crying in front of your boss. "stand up." he demanded, face deadly serious while you stared at him, bewildered. after you sat there, still, his hand reached out to pull you from the chair. you felt how hard and fast your heart was beating, how the confusion slowed your brain down, heat stirring deep inside you.

"you're such an obedient worker," he spoke, still looking down over you as he leaned on his desk. "always do whatever i say,". silence filled the room again as your heart hammered in your chest. you hated him for doing this to you and you were embarrassed, but his hot-and-cold tone made it impossible for you to leave. his words made you feel something, a mixture of humiliation and heat. you wanted his approval, his validation and you wanted him. you wanted it so bad you ached.

"that's why i keep you around, y/n." he finally spoke.

you gulped, the frustration and confusion mixing to form a mess of arousal and eagerness to please your boss. "y-you keep me back because i do what you want?" you ask, trying to keep what was left of your professional composure, although yoongi's had clocked out a long time ago.

he nodded slowly, breathing you in as you stood before him. "bend over." he instructed, finally standing. "that's what i want." he added, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. you contemplated it, mulling it over in your mind. yoongi wasn't going to make you do it, he was waiting to see how far you'd go.

"you'll let me go home at a reasonable hour?" you asked, it slowly dawning on you what exactly you were negotiating over. yoongi hummed and walked behind you, pulling the chair away from the desk. "i don't think you'll want to, but we'll see.". the thought sent a wave of electricity through you.

you didn't know what to expect from yoongi. of course, you'd thought about fucking him, but in your fantasies you were made to share a bed at some work trip, it had been romantic and critically, hadn't started with you crying. nevertheless, you stepped forward towards the desk and placed your hands on the cool wooden surface.

you felt his hand press against the expanse of your thigh, rubbing it over in soothing motions before he retracted it and landed a cruel, hard slap against the tender spot. you groaned at the lingering sting on your skin, knees buckling beneath you as your jaw clenched. "what you really lack," he spanked your thigh again, harder and higher up your legs. "is discipline."

he placed a hand on your back, pushing you further down and bringing your face flush against the desk. you felt your skirt hitch up and rest against your hips, revealing your plain black underwear. you certainly hadn't expected anyone to be seeing your ass today, otherwise, you might have worn something a litter lacier. yoongi didn't seem to mind as he groped the flesh of your ass before landing another slap, this time on your behind, earning a strangled moan.

"this is what you're good for," he growled as he brought your hands behind your back. you heard the rustling of fabric before feeling him place his tie around your wrists, wrapping it tightly around them before pulling it into a knot with a swift yank. he spanked you again before stepping back to take in the sight with an approving smile.

"so tell me where you'd rather be, y/n." he mused, rubbing the reddening hand marks on your skin. "getting fucked by some fucking low-life who can't even pick you up from work? was that one of the plans you've had to miss because of your mean boss?" his fingers drifted over your aching core and you shifted your hips, desperate for relief from the stinging his ruthless slaps had caused. he responded by applying more pressure as he stroked you over your folds.

"so fucking desperate," he chided, pressing your underwear into your soaked core. "you should hear the way your coworkers speak about you. such a pretty thing, such a tight ass." he was mimicking someone, you couldn't tell who.

you let out a hum, unable to answer as the reality of the situation was still forming in your mind. you just wanted him, you didn't care anymore. you wriggled your hips, backing them into his palm. his free hand slipped onto your hip, pulling your underwear down until they were at your knees. from the corner of your eye, you saw him bend down onto his knees as both of his hands regained their grip on your ass. "please," you whined, pleading for his taunting to be over.

his tongue was hot and wet, licking long stripes and pushing past your folds. the foreign feeling sent you reeling, and you let out a high-pitched moan as you felt your face heat up against his desk. he stood up and leaned over you, his face behind your ear as his fingers found their way to your clit. "obedient little slut," he hissed, his venomous words shooting straight to your core. "you come into my office every day after hours wearing your tight skirts and heels,"

he rubbed your clit in fast, tiny circles making you moan whenever his index finger passed over it with a little too much pressure. "and you wonder why i always keep you back?" he laughed incredulously, you could hear the disbelief in his voice. he stood back up, removing his hand from your soaked pussy. you heard him fiddle with his zipper before pulling his cock out of his slacks. you wished you could see it, you just knew it would be as pretty as he was. he pumped it slowly, looking over you as you squirmed in your powerless position. "can't fucking take it anymore," he sounded desperate. you wondered how long he'd been thinking about this, planning this.

you weren't prepared when you felt his cock press against you, its smooth length coating itself in your arousal. he groaned as he rubbed himself against you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him. "tell me to stop," he said, almost begging. you knew how bad this would be for him, for you, for the company, but you couldn't. you needed him.

"i want you," you replied in your softest of voices. "please, sajangnim"

you felt him line himself up behind you before slowly entering you, filling your core as you fluttered around him. you let out an unrestrained moan in tandem, finally feeling a ripple of pleasure wash over you. he didn't ease you into it before pumping himself into you, using a firm grip on your hair as leverage for his merciless thrusts. "fuck," he exclaimed, throwing his head back as he fucked you over the desk, papers and pens falling to the floor. "you're my slut," he panted.

you nodded against the desk, his unrelenting strokes invoking waves of ecstasy every time his cock filled you up. "yours," you agreed mindlessly. "only yours."

he slapped your ass, the pain adding to the spreading pleasure taking over your body. "you'll fuck when i want you to fuck," he spoke through his grunting. "say you'll suck my dick whenever i ask."

you could barely register his words through your moans and the deafening pleasure. "yes, sir, whatever you want." despite your concession, he slapped the side of your thigh. he fucked you, unrelenting and unforgiving like he'd been deprived for years.

he used your tied wrists to pull you flat against his chest as his other hand snaked around your front, rubbing between your folds and stroking your clit as you moaned at the overstimulation. "greedy slut." he spat, sharply impaling you with a powerful thrust that hurt. you felt the tie come loose from your wrists.

you whined, needing him to be satisfied and continue pleasing you like he had been. he pulled out of you, forcefully turning you around and pushing your ass into his desk. for the first time, you saw his crazed expression, lips wet, coated with spit and your essence. his pupils were blown out and his expression was serious, almost furious. if you weren't so turned on, you'd almost be scared.

as he pushed you further onto the desk, you used your palms to keep your balance as he carelessly brought one of your legs up and around his waist. for a brief moment, you eyed his cock- thick and hard. pretty, like you'd expected.

you couldn't look for long before he slotted himself between your legs and entered you again, his eyes trained on your chest as your tits bounced in response to his thrusts. his lips were parted as he fucked into you, cockily driving into you like he knew how good it felt.

moans passed your lips before you could register them, your orgasm building even quicker now that you could actually see what he was doing to you. "lie down." he grunted, pushing you down before you could respond. he lifted your other leg and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, the tip of his cock pumping your hilt, drawing a pained groan from your throat.

this position was almost too much for you to handle, allowing yoongi to reach deeper inside of you than he had before. or really, deeper than anyone had before. your palms tapped against his arm in desperation as you gasped, ready to reach your orgasm. "please, i'm going to-" you began. he slapped your thigh, cutting you off and breaking your train of thought. he continued rolling his hips into you at a tireless pace, desperate to reach his own end. "such a slut for me, cumming on my cock already?"

you hummed, nodding eagerly at his words. one of your legs fell as he released his hold, his hand finding its way to your pussy to rub soft circles over your clit. you were almost sobbing, the pleasure ripping through you pitilessly. you arched your back as his cock slid in and out of you while the first wave of your orgasm began to crash, wetness spreading down your legs and onto the desk. "yoongi!" you exclaimed as he fucked you through the peak your orgasm, your fingernails digging into his toned arms. your vision began to whiten as you came, unable to think of anything besides how incredible and intoxicating he felt inside you.

the fluttering of your walls and increasing tightness around his cock became too much, and yoongi lowered his gaze to where the two of you met. a thick ring of white had formed at the base of his cock, and it sent him over the edge. he dug his fingernails into the flesh of your thigh as he released a whiny grunt at the realisation. you felt him pulsate inside you, his thrusts becoming unrestrained and rigid as his eyes crammed shut. his grunts became moans as you felt him release inside you, your name falling from his lips in breathy pleas. his thrusts finally slowed as his tip became too sensitive to continue.

he unsheathed himself and tucked his wet cock back into his pants, you could still make out the hard, thick shape underneath. silence filled the room as you began to move, closing your legs and hopping off the desk. yoongi raised an eyebrow and bent down to pull your underwear back up against your pussy. "don't waste a fucking drop." he whispered before winking at you. you straightened out your skirt as you processed his words.

he'd finished inside you.

he rubbed your clothed cunt before standing back up and fixing your collar, as if he was getting ready to send you back off to work. though, you had a feeling he wasn’t done yet. "i'll drop you home." he spoke, turning on his heel to grab his jacket from the couch.

like he hadn't just completely changed everything for you.

1K notes · View notes

shina913 · 1 year

Text

The Boyfriend Experience | MYG

The Boyfriend Experience: Yoongi

The BFE: Masterlist

Pairing: Escort!Yoongi x Divorcee Fem!Reader

Rating: M🔞

Genre: sex!workAU; strangers to ? ; angst; smut;

Warnings: alcohol consumption; cussing; mentions of antidepressant; gynecology; mentions of divorce; bits of self-pity and low-self-esteem; legal sex work (in this AU); fingering; dirty talk; clit play; protected penetrative sex; aftercare

Word count: ~8.2k words

Summary: 💬 When I saw my gynecologist recently after not having sex for a year, she told me, ‘You need to be having sex.’ She told me that my vagina was 'drying up.’ Sex, in and of itself and for its own sake, is also important for a woman’s physical health.

A/N: Little disclaimer: the doctor's office part is a spin on this one scene from Sex and the City. I found out that this is a legitimate condition 🥴 I don't really go into detail about it but I also don't mean to offend anyone who is actually suffering from this condition so I apologize! It's only a small part of the plot.

A/N: Thank you to @/itdoesntmatterwhy and @/purplewhalewrites for reading through this and for your super helpful suggestions to get this installment going. It's been kind of a struggle to get the storyline straight for this one so...I hope you all like how this Yoongi turned out. Enjoy! 😘

You are hypnotized by the bubbles in your champagne. You watch the tiny orbs floating and fizzling up to the surface…much like many of the realities you’d encountered in recent days.

Three days ago, you were at a doctor’s appointment for your annual exam. You’d been experiencing some discomfort down in your lady parts.

After making her assessment, the doctor prompts you to sit up on the exam table. You straighten your posture, adjust the hospital gown behind your shoulder, smooth the paper blanket over your lap, and anticipate her professional advice.

As she scribbles on her prescription pad, she says, “I’m prescribing you an antidepressant.”

“I-I’m sorry…I’m confused. An antidepressant? B-but I don’t think that—“

She looked up from her dark-framed glasses. “Oh, it’s not for you.” Then she cocks her eyebrow and gestures below your waist. “It’s for your vagina.”

“Uhm…okay, now I’m even more confused.” It was the understatement of the century.

“The discomfort you’re feeling is due to some dryness,” she begins to explain. “I’m also prescribing a topical gel with some hormones to help with lubrication.”

“Lubrication?” You ask incredulously.

“Yes,” she smiled politely. “I would recommend abstaining from any sexual activity for about 24-48 hours to allow the gel to work its magic but after that, you can get right back on that pony!”

“Well, abstaining shouldn’t be a problem then. I’ve been sexually in-active for a while, so what’s another two days?” You joked.

Your doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You haven’t had sex in–how long?”

You’d already gone through this line of questioning from the pre-assessment intake that her assistant had done before your doctor entered the room. Didn’t she check your records?

She looked at her laptop and scrolled up. “A year?”

“Yes…give or take,” you replied quietly.

In actuality, it was a little bit longer than that. It’s been over a year since you and your ex-husband, Jihoon, separated and began divorce proceedings. Months before he moved out, intimacy was already scarce, bordering on nonexistent.

The doctor’s mouth falls open at your confirmation. “Oh, honey…” She pulled her glasses off.

You and Dr. Cabrera have known each other for years. You both spoke freely and casually when the situation called for it.

“You need to be having sex. And no, it doesn’t need to be with an actual dick. There are other ways, too.” Her lips thinned into a tight line as she gave you a knowing look.

You roll your eyes at her. “Don’t you think I know that, Mina? It’s just that I haven’t been motivated to date…” Much less touch myself. “Ever since Jihoon—“

“Ah, fuck him!” She waved you off. “Girl, you need some regular activity in your vaj, okay? And not just for pleasure but for your health!”

She goes on to lecture you more about vaginal health and how it goes hand-in-hand with sexual health. If your ex was getting all the sex he could elsewhere, there was no logical reason to be depriving yourself.

“You need constant stimulation! That’s why your coochie is depressed!”

Another reason to be depressed? Receiving a written notification from the courts this morning, telling you that you and Jihoon were legally divorced now. It was a tough reality to face. For the longest time, you were both unhappy. Breaking up was a foregone conclusion and yet–seeing it written on paper, in bold letters, still felt like a swift kick in the lady balls.

“What are you celebrating?” You are snapped back to reality by a voice.

“Hm?” You were so lost in thought, you had no idea how long you’d been staring at your champagne flute.

You turn your head to find a man, standing about two feet away, his elbow resting on the back of one of the bar stools next to you. His hair was long, ending just a couple of inches below his earlobes; it was loosely brushed back, one side tucked behind his ear while the other had a few strands falling right above his eyebrows.

He wore a dark, tailored suit–formal, understated elegance but with a hint of approachability since he’d skipped wearing a tie. Despite that, he still looked like a million bucks.

The lounge was nearly empty as the night waned. A handful of customers were still meandering about, sitting in the plush tables and chairs situated by the wall.

Even though you were the only one seated at the bar, you weren’t sure whether he was addressing you.

“Are you talking to me?”

He kept his gaze on you. “I am,” he smiled softly. He then gestured to the chair next to you. “May I?”

“S-sure.” With another smile, he saunters over and settles into the seat. He points to your drink again. “So, one usually orders champagne to celebrate something, right?”

“Oh, this?” You lift your glass and then shake your head. “I’m not sure if I would exactly categorize tonight as a ‘celebration’.”

The corner of his mouth quirks in a half-smile. “Maybe you should have ordered a whisky instead?”

You laughed wryly at his comment then thought, maybe you should have–especially after the week that you had.

He calls the bartender over. They smile and make small talk as if they’d known each other for years.

You frequented this lounge at least twice a month in the last six or seven months after your girlfriends dragged you out to dinner here once. Eventually, you’d gone out on your own to have a cocktail or two, whenever the kids were with their dad for the weekend.

Coming to L’Atelier beat drinking at home on your own. You didn’t socialize much on your nights out but at least you were drinking at a nice place. It was a small comfort and you just wanted to unwind after busy weekdays shuttling your children around.

This was the first time anybody had actually approached you–apart from the bartender and the occasional ‘Is this seat taken’ question from random men trying to hit on women who sat next to you.

After this man places his drink order, he turns his attention back to you.

“Do you come here often?” Your question sounded like a terrible cliche but it was the best you could muster. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

The bartender clears their throat and presents the man with his drink.

He thanks the bartender before he answers, “Yes, I’m here pretty regularly,” he smiled enigmatically. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed me.”

Haven’t noticed him? Nonsense! You most definitely would have noticed him if he walked into a room. Was your sad vagina making you blind, too?

“I’ve seen you once or twice, though,” he says before taking a sip of the amber liquid from his glass, his eyes never leaving you.

“Oh?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah. I come here often for…business meetings,” he rationalizes. “Have you been offered a seat at the chef’s table yet?”

You frowned in confusion. After coming to this place many times before, this was the first time you’d ever heard of an option to have a seat at the chef’s table.

“I don’t think I have. Sounds exclusive,” you remarked.

“It is but I know the owner and I can bring you in as a guest.” After a beat, he asks, “Would you like to take advantage of it?”

Tempting as it was, you cross your legs and decline politely. “That’s alright. I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not,” he says. “I’d be happy to show you what offerings the restaurant has. The chef always has something that will satisfy any appetite.”

You stopped to consider your answer. Was he trying to pick you up or were you trying to read too much into an innocent offer?

You gulped your nervousness down your throat. “No, it’s not that. I’m, uh…” You scrambled to think of an answer. How could you tell this man that you hadn’t gone out on a date in a long time and that you were rusty when it came to settings like this so you’d prefer not to embarrass yourself.

His expression suddenly shifts to a look of realization. “S-sorry, I’m not trying to be a creeper. If you're with someone or just want to be alone–”

You shook your head and answer meekly. “No, no. I’m here by myself.” Then, you decide you’d dare to take a chance. What was the harm in enjoying a drink with someone?

“I don’t mind the company, either.”

To quell any further awkwardness, he introduces himself. “I’m Yoongi, by the way.”

After giving him your name, you can't help but notice that your breath hitches as he shakes your hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you.”

“Please! The pleasure is all mine,” he says with a smile, his hold still lingering on your skin.

******

It was hard to pinpoint what exactly made him attractive to you but you narrowed it down to a combination of his looks, personality, and confidence–the confidence, especially! And no, it wasn’t the type of confidence that was synonymous with arrogance or cockiness.

It was the quiet self-assurance that he exuded, where his ego took a backseat and you took center stage.

It was a refreshing experience since the man you were married to for years was very much into asserting his masculinity, especially when you first started dating. Admittedly, you’d found that attractive at one point in your life.

That was half of Yoongi’s charm. The other half of it was the element of seduction. He knew and understood how seduction worked.

In the short amount of time that he spent with you, it seemed that the trick lay in small things: his cologne, outfit, laughter, eye contact, and subtle touches–his knees brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat…they all added up.

You don’t recall Jihoon putting that much effort into your relationship, much less coaxing your own self-esteem to the forefront. You chalked it up to the fact that you were both so young and had been together for a long time. You didn’t have many points of comparison, relationship-wise.

“You seem like a really great person,” he says. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

You eventually relay that you’d come here to enjoy some ‘me-time’.

“Interesting,” he says. “And what do you typically do when you’re not alone?”

“Well, I have a day job and children who keep me busy.”

“Oh, you have children?”

“Yes,” you reply. “Two boys–currently with their dad. It’s his weekend.” You try but fail to hide the bitterness behind your tone. The tight smile you gave Yoongi was a dead giveaway, too.

You were fully expecting him to pepper you with questions, questions that you weren’t quite ready to hash out with a stranger.

“I see.” His tone had a finality to it, sensing your apprehension about expanding on your recent divorce.

You tilt your head back and down the last drops of your drink, thankful that he decides not to pry.

“Last call!” The bartender announces to the whole room before turning to you. “Can I get you anything else, miss?”

You shook your head in response and start to dig for your credit card to settle your tab. When they turn to Yoongi, who also declines any more drinks, he makes a request instead. “Junho-ssi, can you put her tab on mine?”

“Oh gosh–no, please–”

“I insist!” He hands his credit card to the bartender, effectively ending your protests.

******

You, along with the last few customers from the restaurant, walk out through the expansive foyer and toward the main exit. The restaurant staff begins to shut the lights off but leaves the lounge illuminated. You’d never been around for closing time so you found the whole scene novel.

A tall, handsome man dressed in a bespoke suit struts out of the backroom, which you assumed was the office. You’d seen him before, in passing. One of your girlfriends pointed out that he owned the place.

You part ways with Yoongi when the owner stops to greet him.

What was the owner’s name again?

“Jin-hyung,” Yoongi greets him in return, answering your unspoken question. They share a friendly hug and exchange pleasantries.

“I thought you left hours ago?“ Jin asks him.

“I was on my way out but I decided to hang around the lounge for a bit.”

Not wanting to linger, you walk out to the front of the restaurant to call yourself a rideshare. While you wait, you think about how this evening turned out to be a pleasant surprise to you. You walked into the bar, thinking you’d have a few drinks, and wallow in self-pity for a bit before you returned home to slip into your pajamas and fall asleep while a Beat Bobby Flay marathon plays in the background.

“Did you drive here?”

Your thoughts are interrupted by Yoongi, who was now standing next to you.

“Nah, I knew I was drinking so I just took a car over here.”

You shifted nervously. You hardly thought of yourself as ‘confident’ and it’s been a long time since you’ve been in the dating scene. You were out of practice after all these years but how else did you expect to jumpstart your sex life?

Besides, it’s been well over 72 hours since your gynecological treatment. By doctor’s orders–you should be good to go.

You found yourself speaking the words before you thought through them clearly. “I don’t know if you have any plans tonight but would you like to come over and have a few more drinks?”

******

Once you and Yoongi walked into your home, all that confidence remained at your doorstep and never followed you past the threshold.

Luckily, you found an unopened bottle of vintage red in your kitchen, which you offered to him.

After a few sips in, you clear your throat. “Listen, I have a confession to make.”

He shifted in his seat, prompting you to continue. “What’s that?”

“I…I don’t…do this kind of thing often. You know, bring men home. I hope that you don’t think ill of me for stringing you along like this.”

He smiled, looking calm and not at all disappointed. “And why would I think that?”

Not knowing why he couldn’t see the obvious answer, you shrug. “I realize that I hadn’t thought this through. I don’t want you to think that I’m reckless or easy.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you’ve offended me.” His tone remained even and his expression was soft.

“I didn’t know if you were expecting to get laid or whatever,” you say anxiously.

“When a woman invites me back to her place, I never expect anything to happen. There’s always the hope but I’m honestly content with whatever she wants to do.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re telling me that men don’t expect sex all the time?”

“I’m not like other men, unfortunately,” he answers. “I have a slightly different perspective, especially in my line of work.”

Your brows knit in curiosity. You’d come to realize that you hadn’t asked what exactly he did for work. You’d been too enraptured with his charm, happily talking about yourself while he listened to every word you said.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you do for work?”

“I’m an escort,” he says matter-of-factly.

If memory serves, that meant– “Oh my god. Oh my god…” Your scalp prickles immediately. Setting your glass down on the coffee table, you abruptly get up from your seat and start to pace around your living room. “W-why didn’t you tell me that right away? Why did–”

“I’m sorry. Our conversation was going so well earlier that I didn’t feel the need to slip it in. I didn’t think you’d invite me over.”

“Wait! Do I have to pay you? Is this…are you going to charge me for this?” You stammered in a panic.

His voice was soft and reassuring. "Relax. When I approached you, I thought you were a client - that's why I asked if you'd been offered the chef's table. It's kind of like the secret password," he reveals. "But since it didn't seem like you knew anything about it, I made the conscious decision to spend time with you. So, to answer your question: no, I am not charging you. I'm here because I want to be here.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief. Your head was spinning. A ‘secret password’? Was there a hidden brothel at the restaurant? You had so many questions!

“I understand that this is overwhelming and I don’t mean to freak you out any further. If I’m making you uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll leave. ” He raised his hands up, further conveying his point. “No harm done.”

He stood up and collected his jacket which was neatly draped over the couch cushion.

Your mind was still racing. What would it mean if you asked him to stay? He says that he’s not charging you but was it enough that you’d take his word for it?

You stop your pacing and turn to look at him.

Sure, you could make him leave and forget that this ever happened. Nobody has to know, nobody needs to know.

…Exactly. Nobody needs to know.

“Wait,” you answer softly. “Could you stay a little longer?”

******

It took a few minutes of some awkward, borderline-invasive questions about his job. You were understandably curious and he was a very patient interview subject. He kept most details vague–presumably, to keep some ‘trade secrets’ under wraps–he was fairly open about his work.

You learned that there was a specific app where his clients can book him and that he often stops by the restaurant, which had a secret lounge, for discreet meet-ups.

“So, you’re saying it’s not just all sex all the time for you?”

He threw his head back in laughter. “It’s not. Sometimes, some clients just want to talk–just like we’re doing now. That’s what our back room is for.”

“Right, but what are the chances that you don’t, I don’t know, get it in before the end of your date?”

He lets out another chuckle. “This may be hard to believe but there are times when some of my dates just want someone to keep them company. And yes, there are times when all they want is physical contact the whole time we’re together.”

“Huh…okay.” You internally fan yourself. “You can tell me to stop if I’m being annoying!”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Normally, I just talk to the other guys I work with since we all have to be discreet. So, talking to you about it feels liberating…on a different level. By the way, I love this red,” he comments at the wine.

You smile at his compliment before sinking into the couch cushions–internalizing this brand-new perspective. You marveled at the concept, like an awakening of sorts.

Hearing about his experiences and different approaches to each of his relationships with his clients fascinated you. On the other hand, it also made you think about how much you missed out on when you were younger.

He notices that you’ve fallen silent. “What are you thinking?”

“Just how little I know about relationships and…sex.” You sighed softly.

“What do you mean?”

You thought about how quickly that year passed, focusing on distracting yourself with work, and your kids so you wouldn’t have to think about how Jihoon was living his best life, with a newer, younger partner.

You didn’t have time for that. You had your babies to take care of. You had to stay focused for them!

Shaking your head, you say, “I don’t know. I guess I find myself being unreasonably envious of these women whom I’ve never met.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m envious at how they’re able to explore their sexuality without…being judged or looked down on. Like, I’m definitely not in my 20s anymore, you know? The concept of dating or even going out to get a drink doesn’t seem appropriate for someone like me.”

“Someone like you? You mean a woman?”

“Someone who has a full plate,” you counter.

“Is it full, though?” He asks skeptically.

You scoffed. “Well, yes! I have my job, then my kids—“

“But your kids aren’t here. You just said that they’re spending the weekend at their dad’s.”

“Right. Still, I don’t know if I have the time—“

“I’m sure you can make time now that you and your ex have joint custody. Don’t you think he enjoys himself when you have your kids while he has his own me-time?”

“Yes, but he’s a man. It’s different for women.”

“Surely you still have desires or fantasies? There’s no gender or age limit for that.”

You shrugged. “Isn’t there? Sometimes, I feel like I’m past it.”

He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “What do you mean to say, ‘you’re past it’? You don’t like sex anymore?”

His incredulity stings you a bit, maybe because he seemed young and had sex with several people often. “It’s possible! And you know what, maybe it’s just been too long for me and you know, they always say, you either use it or lose it.”

Yoongi stares at you, mouth agog, and utterly dumbfounded by your ridiculous theory.

“Can you do me a favor and humor me, just a little? I think that’s only fair, right?” After your interrogation, it did seem like a fair exchange so you nod your head, prompting him to continue.

“Tell me what you loved about sex. It could be the lead-up to it, a specific action, or the experience as a whole. What is it?”

You paused at his question. Your lips puckered as you thought about your answer. After a few more seconds, you finally answer, “Weirdly, it doesn’t have anything to do with any kind of penetration.”

He laughed so hard his shoulders vibrated. “I thought penetration was everyone’s favorite part?”

You tutted. “Nuh-uh. Not me.”

He eyed you quietly while he awaits your answer. “I’m at the edge of my seat here,” he chuckled.

You laughed in return. “Okay, okay. It’s kissing.”

His lips and eyebrows quirked in curiosity. “Interesting choice. Doesn’t ‘kissing’ still technically involve some kind of penetration?”

“I guess,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at the same time. “But to me, kissing means more than just getting it in.” You pause again to think of the correct metaphor. “It’s like the prologue and the epilogue to sex.”

His eyes flickered with renewed interest while you elaborated. “You know, when you like someone or find them attractive enough, you imagine what it’s like to kiss them, right? The thought consumes you until you finally get that opportunity to do it.”

He continued to regard you intently, hanging onto your every word. “You start off feeling and tasting…and then you slowly melt into it. Your hands start to explore, clearly wanting more of that person.” You smiled wistfully, “One of my favorite things to do is finding out how long I could keep my mouth sealed to my partner’s while we undress each other. And then the thrill of breaking that kiss–for just a few moments–so you could strip that last piece of clothing off them–then you get right back into it.”

You watched his chest rise and fall, his gaze still hot on you.

“After all is said and done–after you both ride out your highs and your bodies are trembling from intense pleasure, your only source of calm and comfort is falling into those kisses again.” When you finish, you press your lips into a hard line and stare back at him.

“Wow,” he choked out after a few beats.

You wave your hands dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know it sounds crazy and delusional,” you scoffed.

He disagreed. “On the contrary, I think that you make a very compelling argument for kissing.”

You sighed ruefully, “It was just something that my ex and I stopped doing many years ago. I felt like that was the beginning of the end.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he remarked sincerely.

“Yeah, me too.”

You looked away to take another sip of your drink while his gaze remained on you. When you turn your attention back to him, he asks, “I’d like to do that for you, if you’ll let me.”

You cocked your eyebrow in suspicion. “Do what?”

“I want to give you that feeling again.”

You frowned in confusion. “What feeling?”

“The feeling you get from a kiss.”

Your eyes bulged in amusement before laughing. “What? That was like, some desperate wish from a sad lady.”

“If that’s how you want to see it, fine. But I am here, sincerely asking if I could kiss you.”

“Oh my god, Yoongi–” Your forehead creased, trying to make out whether he was for real or just pulling your leg.

“I’m not bullshitting you, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Then you must be drunk,” you countered.

“Not that drunk,” he demurred. “I am still very much coherent.”

You continued to eye him skeptically for a few seconds.

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. If you say ‘no’, then we’ll move on from this subject and continue on with our night. And I think I’ve made it deliberately clear that I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable at all,” he reassured you.

“I…” The answer was at the tip of your tongue. However, before you say anything else that you feel might be too impulsive, you feel the need to step away to cool off.

“Oh, look at that!” You remark at the empty bottle of wine and reach for it. “I’ll be right back with another. Red, right?“ You hastily make your way back into the kitchen, not waiting for his answer.

******

After retrieving a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge, you puff your flushed cheeks out and fan yourself. It was definitely the alcohol…coupled with the fact that Yoongi’s presence was lowering your inhibitions further.

All that bullshit you spewed about not having the desire? Being ‘past’ sex? Right. You internally smack yourself.

He wasn’t charging you anyway, what was the harm in a little taste? The problem was what could happen after the fact. What if you turned out to be insatiable? Could your alimony checks pay for these meetings?

“Shut up, this is crazy!” you mutter to yourself.

And yet, even as you made your way into the kitchen, you were already feeling that familiar tingle in the pit of your stomach. A feeling you thought was long gone, walking out the door along with your ex.

You put the bottle of wine down and center yourself, splaying your fingers onto the counter then lean on it for support.

You try desperately to calm your fluttering pulse.

“Hey.”

You turn your head around to see him entering the kitchen.

Shit, were you taking too long?

“I thought you might need this.” He held up the corkscrew in his hand and then slowly advanced toward you.

You laughed. “Oh…uh…silly me!”

“I got worried so I thought I might check in on you to make sure that you were okay.”

You turn around and attempted to take a step but your knees felt like jelly. So instead, you lean your back against the counter. “I’m fine,” you try to say as evenly as possible. “Also, seems I’m all out of red wine and this is the only one I have left.” You gestured at the bottle on the counter.

Seeing your apprehension in serving it, he asks, “Do you like it?”

Your eyes bulged at his question.

“The wine. Do you like it?” he clarifies.

“I do.”

He gives a small nod. “Well if you like it, I’m sure I’ll like it, too.”

“You said earlier that you preferred to drink red. Do you always adjust your preferences based on whatever your date likes?”

“Mm…so we’re on a date?”

You giggle nervously at your presumptuousness then start blubbering. “I mean–I’m just saying.”

“It’s just a preference,” He interjects cooly. “...but I generally like to keep an open mind about things. I’m not the type who limits myself.”

“Because ‘limits’ are an occupational hazard for you?”

“I may not limit myself but knowing my clients’ limits are helpful for me. I want to know what they want; want to know how much I can give it to them…until they tell me to stop.”

“And how often do they say ‘stop’?” Your question was barely a whisper.

“All the time, actually. Except…” he hissed through his teeth, “…it usually comes after the word, ‘don’t’,” he punctuated.

Your lips seal tightly as if bracing yourself. At this point, you’d made up your mind and wanted to know what it would be like to be intimate with him.

But you still haven’t said the words.

He smiles and takes a few more steps, closing the gap considerably but still leaving room for you to push away from him if you want to. At this point, you didn’t want to push him off but instead felt a visceral need to pull him closer.

He inhaled deeply, like he could smell the want thrumming from your body.

He swallows, leaning in so his face is in your hair. The sound of his breaths sets your body alight…this would be the moment you’d give in to your impulses.

He’d pressed himself against you and you didn’t stop him. You shift, knowingly brushing your thigh against his crotch, his cock stiffening at the contact. He bit into his lips in an effort to suppress a growl but fails at it.

Your skin is hot to the touch and your heart feels as if it’s thumping out of your chest. With his lips still narrowed into a hard line, you lock eyes with him, and he detects that dormant lust lingering in their depths. You gulp and drop your gaze to his lips. Your bodies, now pressed against each other; mind racing, you continue to stare at his mouth. You want to taste him.

“I want you.” His words reverb around the room like an echo.

He moistened his parched lips with his tongue and let out a shaky breath. And maybe it has been that long…but you’d never seen anyone look so desperate to take you. Never felt so paralyzed by desire.

"Can I please... have you?" You can’t imagine he’d ever worked this hard for a fuck.

You never thought of yourself as sexy. You always thought you looked average. But when you're with him, he made you feel unbelievably irresistible. You haven't felt this confident in a while.

His mouth gently grazed the side of your jawline. "Please...tell me I can have you."

Curiosity consumed your body, leaving you no choice but to surrender. Finally, you permit yourself; and in turn, permit him. “Yes.”

You slowly tilt forward until your lips gently meet his but he doesn’t take the lead. Instead, he decides that you should still take it at your own pace, and he’s more than happy with it. It’s slow. Soft. Tender…everything that you hoped it would be.

He presses his hand onto the small of your back, making you arch against his hold.

“Bed?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum your agreement against his mouth.

“Where?”

You fist at his shirt and pull him down the hallway and into your bedroom.

His back hits your door, which slams against the wall, jolting you into his arms. He can do nothing more than keep up with your pace, all while silently demanding you start ridding him of his clothes.

Your tongue circles his mouth, your heads tilting constantly, taking other angles, pulling back, only to crash together once again. It’s wild, messy, yet absolutely incredible.

“You’re so sexy, you know that?”

“You’re just obliged to say those things.”

“I’m not obliged to say or do anything I don’t want to.” He peels off the wall and walks you both farther into your bedroom. “And neither are you.” He backs you in until your legs feel the mattress against them. He turns you around, zipping your dress down. “Do you understand?”

You nod and remain still as he unfastens you and then pushes the dress downward, his eyes falling to the material that pools around your feet.

His hands reach for the clasp of your bra. One flick of his deft fingers releases it, and he notices your shoulders lift. He moves in close and slides his forearm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We can do this however you want. You have control, okay?” He whispers, trying to ease your nerves. You were tense, but not from fear. It was from anticipation.

“Yes,” you respond.

“You’re beautiful and I want us to take our time.” He drags the straps of your bra down your arms until it tumbles to the floor. “We don’t need to rush through this.” Kissing your cheek lightly, he relishes the feel of you pushing closer to him. “I want to remind you how good it can feel.”

You turn and lift your chin to look at him. Without a word, you start to unbutton his shirt, one by one, slowly and purposefully, with a whole range of of thoughts and emotions running through your head.

He lets you undress him at your own speed, resisting the urge to rip his own clothes from his body and toss you on the bed. “Want some help?” He asks to find out what options you’d be open to.

You peer up at him, and he sees apprehension in your gaze. You smile and shake your head ‘no’ softly.

He realizes that even though you’re desperate for him to take you, you have no idea how this will all play out. It’s been so long, and he was the first partner you’d been with in a while. You didn’t know if you wanted it raw and fast or slow and loving.

“Don’t be nervous.” He takes your wrists, instantly feeling you tremble. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But I want to.” Your gaze drops from his, down his bare torso, your teeth sinking into your lip. “I really…really…do.”

Pulling away from his hold, you push his shirt from his shoulders and place your hands on his pecs. His body feels like it’s just gone up in flames, and his hands twitch, desperate to grab onto you. Ravage you, kiss you…ruin you. The look in your eyes tells him you’re aware of all this because you want to do all of those same things to him.

You reinforce this with a hard kiss on his lips, and he’s instantly overwhelmed by it, his palm going to the back of your head, gently pushing you closer, his mouth opening, inviting you in.

Your hands are everywhere. Your kisses turn sloppy. His actions convey a sense of urgency, making him want to take you hard and fast, show you how good he could be for you. He can feel his control slipping but somehow manages to maintain his hold on those last few strands. He knows this isn’t the time for him to get carried away. He was giving up control to you.

Holding your head in his hands, he slows the tempo of your kiss. Suddenly, it was all coming back to you now. Your hands snake down to the fly of his pants, you undo it and slide them off him, all while keeping your lips locked. He takes you down to the mattress, your tongues dancing slowly, breathing each other’s breath.

You never thought he’d taste this good, even with the hints of alcohol mixed between you. He comes down to rest over you, taking his arms up over your head, leaving your hands free to roam his back, his ass, and eventually his face. You’re both lost and consumed by each other.

He forcibly breaks your kiss to test a theory.

You let out a whine, hating the loss of contact. You lunge at him, wanting to capture his mouth again but he teasingly pulls away. You lean in again and he retreats with a soft chuckle. Finally, you let out a growl, clasp your palms on either side of his face, and aggressively pull him back to you.

His chest rumbled in arousal, and he kisses you back with just as much fervor.

You pant against his mouth, your hands grabbing at his hair, legs locking around his waist, telling him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Your lips purse, your hands sliding past the waistband of his boxers. You push them over the rise of his ass. “Are you worth every penny?” You cheekily pinch his butt, making him flinch and grin at the same time.

“Yes,” he says simply.

You giggle, then sink your nails into his flesh. He grits his teeth, enduring the sharp pain. “And I’m supposed to just take your word for it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He raises his eyebrows in warning as your hand glides softly through his dark strands. “But yes, you’d better take my word for it. Let me make you feel good?”

Your lips press together, your hips flexing up, pushing into against his hardon. “Yes,” you breathed out.

With your consent, his lips crash into yours, the slow and steady pace all but forgotten. Wild hands feel down his thighs and start pulling impatiently at his boxers. He fully appreciates your eagerness, taking his own hands to your panties, pushing them down your legs just as impatiently.

You inhale sharply but quickly adopt his method, tugging and squirming to break free of your last bits of clothing.

Until there is nothing but skin on skin. Nothing but the friction of his flesh rubbing all over yours as your bodies entangle, lips and tongues clashing, your moans and hungry gasps filling the room.

His hand grazed your clit lightly, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. Your breath caught and you tilted your head back as he moved down your body, kissing and licking downward until he was past your torso.

His thumb swiping at your soaked folds sends an unexpected shiver up your spine, making you gasp. He’d anticipated a slow build, but after a few light strokes, he realized you were already primed for him.

His fingers continued to work you, pumping at a slow, even, and purposeful pace that increased both the pressure and area with each stroke. His digits were gliding up and down your folds in a slow circuit, coming up to your clit, then down…easing in and out of your aching cunt. Your breaths started to turn ragged, and he took it as his cue to change his pace in bursts, shortening each motion while your orgasm built.

“Oh shit, I’m close,” you choked out as your muscles seized. “Keep going…”

His strokes became shorter as your climax neared. Dipping in and pressing up against the roof of your core, sending you over the edge. He kept the pace until the sensation became unbearable.

The second you felt the first shudders of your orgasm rip through you, you let out an aggressive, high-pitched gasp. You gripped at your sheets, back arching off the mattress as you trembled with relief and satisfaction.

You barely notice him getting off the bed to grab a condom from his pants, which were on the floor. He tears open the foil and carefully rolls the condom down his length.

It doesn’t take much guidance to get his cock resting at your throbbing entrance. You suck in air and hold it, pulling back to get him in your sights. His eyes on you, he nudges his hips a fraction, resisting the urge to pound straight in. “Ready?”

“God, yessss!” You can hardly talk through your desperation so instead, you roll your hips up and take a bit more of him.

He pushed into you, eliciting a small cry from your lips as you adjusted to the stretch.

He swivels his hips, grinding deeply. He flexes his hands over your hips, keeping you pinned against the mattress, withdrawing from your pussy and gliding gently back in.

He watches you melt beneath him, but the slight quiver on your lip worries him. He pauses his movements and loosens his hold on you.

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently brushed your forehead.

With a swift kiss to his lips, you nod. “I’m good.” You sink your nails into his ass and roll your hips onto his, telling him wanted more.

You fist your hands in his hair, moaning in invitation as your body goes into autopilot. You feel his palms squeeze your thighs again, bracing himself as his hips grind against you once more.

You don’t know how you’ve managed to resist him this whole time.

He nips at your bottom lip and releases it, pulling his face away and looking you straight in the eyes. He rolls his hips again, grinding hard against your pelvis, making your core clench tightly. Your head lolls on a deep moan, giving him free access to your throat. He takes full advantage of it, licking and sucking at the hollow.

You could cry with pleasure at how good it felt.

Nuzzling your cheek, he takes your hands and thrust them up on the pillow, he elevates himself a little to get a good look at you. You’re panting in excitement and need. Loving the feel of him inside you. He rolls his hips teasingly. “You like it slow?” He licks his lips, savoring the sight of you breaking into a sweat.

“I don’t really care,” you utter.

“Please, tell me what you like.”

“And I’m telling you I don’t care,” you insist. “Just don’t stop–”

At the sound of your words, your eyes immediately dart up to Yoongi, who was now sporting the cockiest smirk. Flustered, you end up muttering, “Ugh, just keep going, okay?”

“As you wish,” he says with a chuckle. Lowering his face, he catches your mouth gently as he continues the measured, delicate rock of his hips, making sure his drives are slow and exact, his tongue following suit. He releases your hands, allowing you to feel him.

He lets you control your kiss again, only breaking away from time to time when you lazily throw your head around on the pillow, sighing, moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head from arousal.

You’re caught in the moment and floating in mid-air. He keeps his rhythm steady, ensuring that you’re kept in a consistent state of pleasure. He’s amazed by how responsive you were to him, finding himself enthralled at the sight of you losing yourself.

He peels away from your chest as he lifts and balances his weight on his forearms. Your eyes follow his, your hands reaching for his face, holding him. Your hips are in perfect sync, his rolling down, and you undulate upward to meet his, each plunge taking your breath away.

In one swift move, he rolls you both over until you were on top. He gives you a look, reminding you that you were in control. With a gentle nudge from him, you sit up, shifting your legs on either side of him for leverage.

You ease into your movements. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips to meet yours, filling you to the brim as he exhales. You lift off slightly, feeling his length slide out. His mouth falls open with a sigh when you sink your hips to take him in again.

You were feeling drunk with the power you currently had–watching Yoongi coming apart beneath you. You place your hands on his shoulders for support until your ass rests atop his thighs.

You sway your hips and he matches your rhythm, maintaining that perfect synchronicity. You increase the speed and it didn't take long before you were fully captivated in pleasure again.

He slowly lifts himself off the mattress and sits up, his face right in front of yours. His hands move from your hips to your arms, maintaining a firm grip to hold you still. He then withdraws slightly before thrusting sharply into you, causing you to cry out.

Your head lolls sideways and back, as he fucks in and out of you. You open your eyes, stare down at him, your breathing ragged, and he’s staring back at you, eyes blazing.

“Fuck…don’t…stop,” you mewl pathetically as he pounds into you.

He groans loudly, closing his eyes again, tipping his head and leaning it against your forehead.

He feels you inching closer to another orgasm. He reaches between you to massage your clit, circling it in the most optimal rhythm, applying the perfect amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge.

You both calmly roll through your own waves of pleasure, a stark contrast to the frantic hammering in your chests.

“Are you okay?” He asks against your misted neck, still catching his breath.

You giggle softly, rolling your forehead against his forehead. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

His lips curve into a smile before he gently places soft, leisurely kisses on your lips. At the same time, his fingers caress your cheek and neck. He didn’t need to do all that, but it felt good.

You pull away and regard him intently. “That was nice.”

“Aftercare is important.” He plants another soft kiss on your lips before he gingerly lifts you off him.

He asks for permission to use your shower, and you direct him to the linen closet where he can find some towels for himself.

“Yoongi?” You call out to him. He turns around and hums his prompt for you to go on.

“You know, if I could afford you, I’d pay twice whatever you’re charging.”

He grins at the compliment, nodding before turning back towards the door. “I can give you access to the app if you’re serious about it,” he says over his shoulder in jest.

His laughter sends gentle currents coursing through your body. The thought amuses you, as you sink back into your sheets while the sound of your shower tap turning on echoes through the room.

******

For somebody whose work revolved around sex–it sure didn’t feel like it from your perspective, nor his.

Everything felt natural and organic. Every touch, every kiss felt real. Every movement you made was in response to his–an even exchange, never missing a beat. The whole act itself flowed like a great conversation, one that you didn’t want to end.

It wasn’t that he had magical skills in bed. There were no special rituals or elaborate positions. His strength was in genuinely understanding that sex went beyond the physical aspect. He knew how to build anticipation and actually deliver.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had spent the entire night setting the mood for the moment and the result was extremely satisfying. He made you feel so comfortable and relaxed that it made the sex that much better.

And it was mind-blowing! Even then, that adjective felt inadequate in describing the experience.

As he was getting ready to leave that morning, you let him know that you didn’t feel the need to call him again even after he offered to meet up off the clock.

“Look, I’m flattered, but you don’t need to do me any favors. Besides, I wouldn’t want to take any business away from you,” you say to him.

“Don’t think of it that way,” he shook his head. “It’s just that I really enjoyed our time and I thought–”

“Then let’s leave it at that,” you interrupt him calmly. “I had a really great time, too.”

He sighs in defeat but asks again for good measure. “Are you sure?”

You nodded in response.

He took a step closer. You chuckle softly, butterflies tickling as he snakes his arm around your waist. “If you ever feel lonely, call me. I’ll be here for you. As a friend.” He gave you a smile that had the slightest hint of mischief in it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do,” he says emphatically–almost begging. “And you know where to find me.”

You laughed.

“We can grab a drink, or something.” His eyebrows twitch and his teeth catch his lower lip while he stares at you.

You looked at him wryly, but deep down, you had to admit that his insatiable desire for you stokes your ego. “You know, you’re making this really hard–”

“Good. Glad I’m not the only one finding this…hard,” he rasps.

You slap of his chest playfully, eliciting a laugh from him. You roll your eyes but are unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Oh my god! You’re a menace!”

He throws his head back, laughing some more, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’m teasing, of course. But I’m serious, though. If you ever want to talk, I’m a phone call away.”

You offer a small smile of appreciation in return. “Thank you.”

“Would it be alright if I kissed you goodbye?”

You shook your head softly. “That’ll be nice.”

He dips his head and pauses for a fraction of a second to brush the tip of his nose against yours, before fully capturing your mouth in a lush, deep kiss.

And it was nice, just as you thought it would be. It was also nice to feel wanted and desired–even for one night.

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You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @shesoldbutcute @yoongukie-ff

#bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi #myg smut #bts smut #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #TheBFE x myg

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aajjks · 2 years

Text

Your King (MYG)

synopsis. He was your King, while you were nothing but his possession.

warnings: YANDERE, T*XIC BEHAVIOUR, extreme YANDERE, mentions of blo*d, obsession, unhealthy possessiveness, he’s emotionally ab*sive, mentions of killing, crying.

disclaimer: THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP, DO NOT ROMANTICISE THIS BEHAVIOUR AT ALL, I do not CONDONE this behaviour at all? viewer discretion is advised, this type of content can be dark and triggering.

HEADER CREDITS TO MY ONE AND ONLY @introgfx 😭🫶

note. SHARE THOUGHTS??? ❤️❤️

“Did you take me for a fool, my dearest?” Yoongi hummed in a bored tone, sitting on his large golden black throne as his stare wasn’t focused on you but on the sword that he stared at.

Your knees were weak as you stood infront of him, unshed tears layering against your tired eyes, your heart begging to have him spare you a glance.

But your mind knew Yoongi better than anyone. He never liked to look at your wet crying eyes, that made him weak.

And yoongi didn’t like to be weak.

“P-Please Yoong- It’s my king to you now, sweetheart.” Your heart broke into a million pieces at his words, a wave of fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at the floor.

His anger was invisible on his face but you could feel it’s heavy heavy presence, the blood drops on his sword were the proof of his wrath.

“B-But m-my king please! Y-You were mislead! H-He was like my brother!” You cried, your voice wavered with fear as you felt the weight of his eyes fall on you.

You fell onto your knees.

Those horrific images of his body laying in his own pool of blood haunted you.

“H-He was my brother!” A choked sob left you. Yoongi was not speaking a word, only listening to you.

It scared you. “That’s enough, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat, filling you with near waves of fear when you heard his footsteps coming towards you.

He rarely called you by your name.

“You dare to defend him even in his death?!?” A growl from him was the sign of his calm demeanour breaking.

“I don’t like it when you defend and cry for him like this… you are so stupid, my love.” Yoongi’s raspy voice was almost blocked by the sound of your own heartbeat.

“He may be like a brother to you,” you could see his reflection in the marble floor, as he crouched down to your figure.

You shuddered.

You couldn’t stop your tears. Yoongi noticed your panic, his large hand coming towards your face to caress it.

His touch burned.

“He didn’t see you like a sister though. You see, sweetheart, men can’t be trusted.” A laugh full of cruelty left him.

“Trust me I’m a man after all.” His touch was tender, so not like him. It was like this was not your king.

This was a crazy man. A killer.

“You’re my most prized possession, you know? I’m a very possessive person, I don’t like it when someone even looks at you. I feel a rush of murderous rage whenever you were with him.” His laugh vibrated around the large throne room.

“You should know that, right?” The pad of his thumb swiped against your trembling lip.

“These lips.. they’re too precious.” He squeezed the meat lightly between his fingers.

“But they feel so filthy to me whenever you utter his name.” You silently cried. “You’re my purest possession… you make me happy, dearest.”

Yoongi carefully lifted your head up, your eyes met his void ones. They were dark yet empty.

Completely empty.

“You know I don’t like to see you cry. You know everything yet… you like to test my limits, hmm?” He smirked, wiping away your fresh tears.

“Even these tears are mine. Why don’t you cry for me only?” He licked his lips, inhaling a deep breath. “Sweetheart… stop crying for him.”

Yoongi’s patience was running thin, you could tell.

“Before I make you cry for me.”

1K notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 2 years

Text

sticks & stones (myg) | one shot

part of the titillating touches collab

♢ genre: (18+) friends to lovers, ex-fwb, mutual pining, massage au | fluff, sprinkle of angst, smut

♢ summary: surprise! you're gifted a free massage at the nearby massage parlor called "Blissful Hands." you've heard about the parlour about once or twice, never thought about stepping foot inside to take advantage of their services. thinking you could use the massage to relax, rid yourself of any stress and built up tension, you walk into the parlor excited for your first massage opportunity. however, when you realize your masseur is no other than Min Yoongi himself, all excitement flies out the window. never did you think you'd reunite with your biggest crush in college, the one that got away. they say sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you— but in this case, you find out that words have actually ruined a lot for you and Yoongi. and stones.. well, they'll do a lot to ease that instead.

♢ pairing: reader x masseur!myg

♢ words: 18.4k

♢ warnings: i did as much research as possible on hot stone massages pls forgive me, mature language/cussing, sexually implied content, sprinkle of angst??, miscommunication, rumors and assumptions, unspoken feelings, awkward reunion lol yoongi isnt really having it at first, oc shoulda tried harder tho oof, he does have a soft spot for oc, drinking/intoxication, flashback scenes, use of pet names like baby and princess, cuddles, after care, making out, unprotected sex, missionary, multiple orgasms, use of oil and hot stones in foreplay, fingering, clit play, slight marking, sprinkle of spit play, breast play, smut on the massage table ://, pulling out, grinding, edited but unedited lolol sorry if i missed anything!

♢ note: thank you so, so much to @ressjeon for thinking of me and for inviting me to be a part of this collab! i had tons of fun writing this <33 also, big shoutout again to @ilikemesometaetaes & @jimilter for this beautiful ass banner! please check out the other works part of this collab, they’re all amazing and won’t disappoint!

—i also wanted to let you all know i’ll be continuing my break and i won’t be as active on here for awhile. i need a moment to rest since i’ve been feeling pretty down and unmotivated lately. just gotta take a moment to shake off this funk. but, i’ll be writing behind the scenes from time to time in between pulling my personal stuff together. 💞

♢ support me!

It's that time of the year again.

It's that time of the year again where your loved ones sweetly greet you, your coworkers shove plans and alcohol in your face because you aren't getting any younger— Immediate family reminding you where you need to be at this point in your life.

Married, with kids, doing some other job that brings in more money.

You know what it is.

No harm, they say. Just a reminder. It's your birthday for fucks sake, and they wanna give you a reminder?

Anywho, you park your car after a long day of work, just now hanging up the phone after your mom and dad had called to greet you [aka bringing up said reminder mentioned above] in the most loving way they can. You know they come from a good place, and you know that they support you either way, so you can't help but give off a tiny sigh and respond with a cute little 'yes, I know but thank you, I love you' in the end. You grabbed your purse and headed up the steps to your apartment, grabbing the mail on the way up without giving it another look as you set it near your keys at the entrance way. You immediately slip out of your heels first, then make your way into the kitchen to wash your tupperware from lunch.

It'll be a quiet birthday, and that's okay with you.

That's how you've always preferred it, anyway. Quiet, lowkey, no surprises—

"Surprise, bitch!" You pick up the call from your bestfriend, slightly bringing the phone away from your ear when you hear her scream on the other end. "Happy birthday to the love of my life and the only person I can stand! Did you open your mail yet? What are you up to today? Who is getting some of that tonight—"

"Hold on just a minute, Rissa." You nervously chuckle. "Thank you, and I love you, but one question at a time, please?" You tuck the phone against your ear with your shoulder as you put your dishes away.

"I'm sorry." She giggles. "You know I love you. I'm just sad I can't be there with you since they have me on this work trip for the month."

"It's okay." You crack a tiny smile. "How is it?"

"It's fine, same old." She sighs. "But this isn't about me, birthday girl. What are your plans?"

"You already know me." You laugh. "Keep it lowkey. Order some good, comforting takeout and pair it with red wine." You plop on the couch and put her on speaker so you can start your next 15 or so minutes just looking for food that you'll end up doordashing over.

"Mkay, really?"

"I don't know why you're so surprised."

"Guess you didn't open your mail."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" You look towards your entrance way at the stack of envelopes.

"Can you just go and open your mail? I made sure that would get sent with priority." She laughs as you chuckle and shake your head, meandering over to the envelopes you wanted to ignore for the evening at the very least. Well, for the most part, the majority of the envelopes get flipped through and tossed to the back, especially if you already knew none of them necessarily had an urgent deadline.

Alas, you come to Rissa's envelope. Soft pink in color with 'Y/N Y/L/N' in big, bold, black Sharpie on the front— a little drawn heart attached to the end of it.

You take your finger and gently rip the envelope open, revealing a card with a piece of paper in it. You read the sweet message written by your bestfriend before pulling out the paper to read what it consists of:

One free 60 min. massage at Blissful Hands - Applies to all massage types. Redeem Now!

No expiration date.

"A free massage?" You think out loud and Rissa laughs.

"Girl, you need to relax, okay? You're always working so damn hard, you never give yourself a break. I know I had mentioned the parlor before, but I just haven't had the time to take you. I want you to go and treat yourself as my birthday present." She pauses briefly before going on again. "And don't give me that 'with what time' bullshit cause I'm gonna be on your ass until you step foot in that establishment. Trust me. I'll be annoying, you don't want that." You laugh.

"Thank you, Rissa. I love it, seriously. Maybe I could use a day to just do this and nothing else." You flip the coupon in your hand.

"Maybe, yeah." She says sarcastically. "If you aren't gonna use that unlimited PTO benefit, then let me at it."

"You're right." You shake your head. "Fine, I'll go."

"Like, tomorrow."

"No, not tomorrow."

"Before next week, though."

"Yes, damn." You laugh a little louder. "Jeez, you weren't kidding when you said you'd be on my ass."

"No, I wasn't. Besides, I spent the money so that you could have this day be all about self-care."

"Thank you." You repeat. "I love you. And I miss you dearly."

"I miss you, too. I'll be home soon and I'll make sure my first stop is your place."

"Sounds like a plan." You say softly, genuinely missing the company of your bestfriend. "I just hope you're enjoying yourself down there in between work."

"Oh girl, you know I am. Don't you even worry." She chuckles. "Seriously though, take that coupon into the parlor this week, you hear me?"

"I will."

"Mmkay. I'll let you get back to your lowkey birthday celebration. Love you to bits and pieces." She says in a sing-song tone. "By the way, there's more gifts coming your way, they're just delayed."

"What!?"

"Byeeeee!" She laughs and abruptly ends the call. You look at the phone in disbelief before slowly setting it down onto your coffee table. You pick up the coupon and look at it again, suddenly getting the urge to look through your work calendar to see which day you could call off.

No meetings, no agenda, nothing.

Just you, yourself and this massage parlor.

"Why not?" You mutter to yourself as you place the coupon back down and start looking through the rest of the week on your calendar.

You actually don't get the chance to go until closer to the end of the week— a Thursday that most people decide that they want to cancel group meetings or work remotely to focus on other urgent projects. You don't complain though, hell, you quickly put in your time off and don't look back.

That Thursday comes just as quickly as you submitted the time off request, the sun beaming straight into your room and warming your sheets through the sheer blinds. You stretch a bit, arms poking out from underneath the covers as you yawn and try to completely wake yourself up. You figured starting your day at the massage parlor could be good, maybe it'll just get you started on the right foot, maybe it'll get you to do other spontaneous, productive things that you should've done on your actual birthday. Who knows? You were just excited to have the day to yourself with no other obligations and people, emails, deadlines— whatever fucking else comes with corporate— to worry about. You get yourself washed up and ready for the day, throwing on a simple, all black biker shorts and sports bra set. You grab a hoodie in case the day is actually colder than expected, throw on some socks, tie up your sneakers and head out the door.

The establishment isn't too far, and it's nice that it's pretty convenient. You and Rissa both had incredibly busy schedules, it was almost impossible to think about a massage during a normal week at work. If it wasn't for your birthday and for her gift, you aren't entirely sure you'd ever step foot here to take advantage of their services [knowing damn well you could use it, too]. The added bonus now is the convenience and how close it is to other establishments you frequent.

Maybe you might be back after a taste.

When you walk in, it's peaceful, serene, as you expected; soft music played in the background. A lady stood near the front desk, walking the receptionist through something— you weren't entirely sure. They finally turned their attention towards you, the lady standing coming towards you with a smile on her face.

"Hey, welcome in to Blissful Hands!" She smiles. "I'm Yannie."

"Y/N." You give her a small, toothless smile as you tug on the strap of your bag. "I, um—" You flash her the coupon after pulling it out from your jacket pocket. "I have this coupon I wanted to redeem."

"Oh, fantastic! You came at a perfect time, we have lots of availability right now." She grabs some paperwork from behind the desk and walks back over to you as you sit on the clean sofa. "I'll go through these in a bit. But, I wanted to ask. Did you already have a particular type of massage in mind? If not, I can grab a pamphlet and we can go through any questions you might have in regards to our services."

"Hm. Do you guys offer hot stone massages?" Is the first that pops into your mind. It had always been something you wanted to try, especially seeing the ads and the promos at the hotels during work trips and conferences. Plus, you've heard about its benefits through word of mouth. If they were able to offer that here, why not get yourself a free hot stone massage? It might turn out to be exactly what you need.

"We sure do." She chuckles and sits next to you. "Why hot stone, if I may ask?"

"Well, besides the usual response of lowering stress, I just feel like my body is pretty.. tense? Lots of muscle tension, soreness, fatigue. I run a lot, try to get some boxing and pole dancing in. No matter how many times I go, I still feel like it's my first time." You chuckle nervously, afraid you've spilled way too much information than necessary. She didn't even ask. "Sorry, just felt like I needed to add that in there for some reason."

"No, that helps a lot. Thank you." She laughs. "I think that would be a great option for you. Our masseur is one of the most top-rated in the city." You nod, impressed. Were they now? "Here." She hands you a pen. "I just need you to fill out these medical intake forms—" She pushes the form closer to you. "And then sign these liability forms." She follows up with the last forms.

"Sounds good."

"Once you're done, I'll take you to a room to get situated before your masseur comes in." You nod once more, giving her eye contact before continuing your task of filling out the paperwork appropriately. Yannie heads back to support the front desk momentarily until she sees you walking towards her with the completed paperwork. She thanks you, takes the papers and hands it over to the front desk before nodding towards the back. "Follow me, I'll bring you to a room." You quietly follow behind, the back area of the establishment being much bigger than you expected. You pass two rather handsome and attractive males on the way to your room, both of them giving you a bright, white smile before continuing on their way. You make a mental note that maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.

A massage and eye candy? Shit, count me the fuck in.

You passed a line of rooms before Yannie turns towards an empty one near the end of the hallway. She lets out a breath for a moment before stepping aside to let you in, showing you to the side of the room where you could place your things.

"Hm, let me go grab your masseur so that you can be on your way, alright? You can place your things here if you'd like, but once he comes in, he'll have you undress down to your underwear and into a robe before getting you on the table." She gives you a smile before walking out and shutting your door. As you stand around awkwardly, you hear her outside asking for your particular masseur, which isn't the problem, but it's the name that catches you off guard—

"Where's Yoongi?" You hear her ask. Yoongi, as in Min Yoongi? You hoped that there was another Yoongi on this planet just to save you from making this session 10x more awkward and weird, but something inside you told you that no, he was the only Yoongi you knew of and that's exactly who this was.

Fuck.

"You have a client, she's in there already." You hear her down the hall, followed by a low 'alright.' Suddenly, the door swings open again and it's Yannie along with the Min Yoongi himself. You're caught off guard that you don't even speak. You simply look at him, eyes full of curiosity, full of question, as he with you. But, he's quick to furrow his brows before slowly walking inside, Yannie catching onto the sudden tension in the air.

"Um, this is Yoongi, your masseur." She clears her throat.

"Sure is." You say, still keeping your eyes on him.

"Have you two met before?"

"Yup." Yoongi says before turning to her with a small smile. "I got it from here boss, thanks." Yannie gives you one last smile before shutting the door and walking down the hallway to continue her previous tasks.

"Well, if you look who it is—" You say sarcastically, placing your things down onto the side. "I didn't know you worked here." You're saying things in a certain tone to make sure Yoongi doesn't see how much you're actually dreading this right now. Because you are, god, you fucking are, and you almost wish you didn't step foot into this establishment and ask for a hot stone massage.

Could've been anything else. You should have done your research before.

"Hm, there's alot of things you don't know about me anymore, Y/N." He says coldly. "Didn't think I'd ever see you here." He starts to look at the papers and gather his things together, his back turned against you.

"Yeah, well. Rissa gave me a birthday coupon." He nods silently. "H-how've you been?" You ask him, awkwardly rubbing at your arm.

"Good as can be." He says flatly before turning to look at you, no emotion to match his blank expression. You look at the way he's changed— his orange, long hair that suited him well, body built perfectly, jaw line shaped with perfection. You're pulled out of your thoughts when he turns once more, pointing towards the back of the room. "Gonna need you to undress and get into the robe. This time, might wanna keep your panties on." He gives you a look, and you aren't sure whether or not he's throwing shade at you for whatever problems you had caused him— you weren't sure. Maybe that's where you went wrong because at one point, you and Yoongi had been close. You and Yoongi had shared everything, you and Yoongi had been everything to each other. He was one of your closest friends, maybe at some points a little too close than friends normally would be, but that was your relationship with him and you both had been on the same page about it. He was always good to you, always taking care of you, always knowing what was best for you over him—

Then, it just.. stopped.

And you clearly never understood where you went wrong. At least, to your knowledge, it wasn't clear where you went wrong.

"Mmkay." Is all you say, heading behind the divider towards the back end of his room to change into the fresh, clean robe hanging on the other side of it. You slip out of your clothes, leaving your panties on as Yoongi ever so respectfully requested, and get the robe on. You tighten the strap, feeling shy around him even though Yoongi has definitely you full blown naked before.

He's touched you.

He's kissed you.

He's handled you.

It's been years, though.

"Get on the table face down, please. I'll start off with your back." He turns to you, meeting your eyes but nothing more. He's always been this way, he's always been hard to crack. You were just lucky you were able to at some point.

You do as you're told, slipping the robe off of you and tossing it aside when Yoongi turns around to give you some privacy. You lay face down onto the table, suddenly feeling Yoongi place a clean linen cloth to cover your sacrum and below. He looks at you for a minute because even though it's been awhile, he remembers everything about you, your body. He remembers the tiny mole right below your left shoulder blade, remembers the scar on your knee. He remembers where your spots used to be, where you liked to be touched, kissed.

He lets out a small huff before shaking his head at the thoughts that start to occupy his mind. There's soft music playing in the background to help ease the energy in the room, to help relax you and soothe you. And it does. Everything feels peaceful for a moment that you almost forget you're about to get a massage by Yoongi himself until—

"You ready? I'm gonna start with your back. Let me know if the stones get too hot for you." He says, dimming the lights just a bit, lighting some candles and incense.

"Mhm." You mumble. You hear Yoongi digging the stones out of the water bath, placing them gently on a towel in front of him before grabbing the oil and lathering his hands.

"I'm gonna start, alright? Gonna oil you up first." He says, his large, strong hands manually giving your back a good massage with the oil to introduce his touch, get your tissues warmed up. You immediately feel relaxed under his touch, all tension seemingly disappearing into thin air. He feels you ease up underneath him, hands with the magic touch you could almost call him Midas.

/ FLASHBACK

"Fuck." You giggle into Rissa's shoulder, red cup empty after the second, third, sixth [who fucking knows at this point] drink of the night.

"So drunk." She giggles along with you, sipping on water.

"God, I'm getting over this party though." You turn to look at your surroundings. "Look, literally no one is dancing anymore. Everyone is just standing around talking or—" You snort when you see one of your friends slumped on the couch. "Slumped."

"It's almost that time of the night, miss. We're crossing into 1AM."

"Ugh, I need to take my drunk ass home."

"No, you need Yoongi to take your drunk ass home." She lifts your chin to get you to look at her but you pout.

"You're not going home, huh?" You ask her, already knowing she was going to spend the night at her boyfriend's apartment.

"Mm, you know this." She laughs. "Your girl needs dick. Bad."

"Whatever."

"Saying it like you don't have the same fucking thought. Shame." She gives you a look.

"Where is heeeeee?" You elongate the 'he,' lip forming into another pout as you drunkily close your eyes.

"Your man's over there." She nods towards the living room, Yoongi standing along the wall with a few of his friends.

"He's not my man."

"Mm." She looks at you up and down. "Go over there before I have more shit to say." You laugh and start making your way over to Yoongi, immediately wrapping your hand around his wrist, chin resting against his bicep.

"You okay?" Yoongi chuckles at how adorable you look.

"Drunk. Just.. drunk."

"I see that." He moves his arm to drape it over your shoulders and pull you close. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Fuck, yeah. Please."

"Where to?"

"Home." You look at him and he nods. The both of you bid your farewell's to his friends before tossing your empty cups and heading out. Yoongi had one drink earlier in the night, but he had been sipping on soda onwards throughout the evening simply because he knew you needed him to take you home. In fact, he would rather let you have the time of your life and watch you have your fun instead of him. He loved seeing that side of you, loved seeing you full of life, full of fun.

It's what attracted him to you the most.

"You okay, princess?"

"Yeah, just wanna get the fuck out of these shoes." He laughs.

"Okay, almost there." He says, kissing your temple. When you finally head down the street to the car, Yoongi gets you situated in the seat before heading to the driver's side and getting himself situated. "You're not gonna yack, are you?" He laughs when he starts driving off towards your apartment.

"No, I'm fine. God." You roll your eyes and lean your head back against the head rest.

"I'm just playing, baby." He says, large hand roaming to your thigh and giving it a good squeeze. You let out a small whimper at his touch, Yoongi smirking to himself when he knows exactly what that means. "Gonna get you some water and make sure you sleep this shit off, I don't wanna hear you complain tomorrow."

"When do I ever complain?"

"All the fucking time, dude." He laughs. "Damn. You're lucky I like you." He quickly caresses your chin. The rest of the ride is quiet, nothing but the soft music playing in the background in his car, the sounds of cars passing by along with the train running through the tracks nearby your apartment building. He parks in a guest spot that's quite far, offering to carry you up to your apartment if you feel too tired. You let him know you're alright though, lacing your fingers with his as you make your way to your door. He grabs your keys, unlocks the door and watches as you stumble in and hurriedly get out of your shoes— tossing them off to the side messily.

"Thank God, ugh." You groan, falling face down onto your comfortable, comfortable bed. You hear Yoong in your kitchen, grabbing you a glass of water and going through your medicine cabinet before walking in to your room and shutting the door behind him.

"Here. Drink some water, please."

"And if I don't?" You tease, still face down against your pillow.

"I'll leave."

"That was unfair." You say, slowly sitting up to drink some of the water. His hand caresses your back as you drink, watching to make sure you get a good amount of water in you before you set the glass back down. Once you do, you immediately get to removing your clothes, tossing them aside and crawling under your sheets in just your bra and panties.

"You wanna sleep? You don't wanna stay up for a bit?" He says, grabbing the pair of basketball shorts he left behind in your closet so he can change into something comfier.

"And do what?"

"You're gonna have a headache in the morning, Y/N."

"It's fine, I'll deal with it when the morning comes." You whine. "Can you just come here and cuddle me like you typically do?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, finally crawling in and throwing his arm around your waist even as you awkwardly lay on your stomach with a leg bent upwards. He begins to quietly massage your sides and down your back, fingers gently running a line down your spine. He listens to you let out a breath, body easing up under his touch like it always does. "Feels good?" He says nearing a whisper, close to your ear.

"Mhm." You let out breathily, eyes shut to feel more of his touch. You feel him unclasp your bra to work his hands deeper into your shoulders and either side of your spine. Yoongi always knew how to work his way with you, work his magic on you— so much that even this simple massage has you wanting more out of him. It's like that though. Your relationship with Yoongi was just like that. You turn to face him and his hand continues to linger on your side, giving it a squeeze when he looks down at your face, nose, down to your lips.

"Need a massage here, too?" He smirks, playing with the strap of your bra.

"You're an idiot." You giggle as he pulls you closer and completely gets rid of your bra while planting small, soft kisses along the surface of your neck. "Wasn't really planning on this, you know?"

"That's funny cause that's always the story, yet what do we always end up doing?" Your eyes flutter at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Your hands roam up to grip his hair just as he makes his way up to your jaw, cheek, kissing the tip of your nose before locking his lips with yours. You moan into the kiss as it deepens, your tongue instantly slipping into his. The only sounds that can be heard within your room are the cars passing by outside, mixed with the noises of wet kisses being exchanged.

You work your way to toss Yoongi's shirt aside, just as he works his way to hook his finger onto your panties and slip it off. You tease at his clothed, hardened cock by palming him through his shorts and he responds by feeling how wet your pussy is. You let out a small gasp when you feel his hand start rubbing at your pussy, spreading your wetness across your pussy lips.

"Just fuck me, Yoongi." You moan, already taking his cock from beneath his shorts before he can fully shred the piece of clothing.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take care of you, baby." He says, wasting no time to climb ontop of you, taking his cock and sliding it up and down your slit a few times to tease you.

"Please." You whine. "Need to feel you." He smirks and bites onto his bottom lip just as he takes his tip and breaches your entrance.

"God, you already feel so fucking good." He lets out. "So wet for me." He watches his cock sink into you, deeper and deeper, until he bottoms out completely.

"Ohhhhhmygod—" You arch your back slightly at the feeling of being full. Yoongi works at a slow pace at first, trying to get the right rhythm going as he cocks your legs wide open with his hands.

"Princess. Look at you. Creaming the fuck out of my cock." He says, looking down as he teasingly slips in and out of you. He begins to pick up his pace, rolling his hips into you as a hand grips onto your headboard to keep him steady, the other hand kept tightly on your hip. He starts to pound into you relentlessly, loving how delicious your walls feel wrapped around him tightly.

It always, always, always, keeps him wanting more of you.

"Yes, yes, yes— just like that—hmmmfuck!" You moan a bunch of jibberish together, nails digging crescents onto his arm. "Feels so fucking good." You continue to whine, whimper, begging him to keep going for you. He lowers his body so that he could run his hands up your hair, whispering praises in your ear as he strokes in and out at a steady speed.

Making you feel him, all of him, completely.

He always tells you how beautiful you are to him, how you're his baby, how there's no one who could make him feel the way you do.

How no one could ever come close to you.

And that's the one thing that always has you hurdling over the edge, reaching your orgasm much faster than expected. Because not only does he fuck you so, so good— but he praises you, knows just the right fucking words to say, knows just how to touch you in the right places.

You let out a loud moan, yelling his name as your eyes roll to the back of your head when your orgasm takes full control. His hand slides down to grip your neck, fucking you senselessly as he tries to reach his own high watching you cum all over his dick. And he does. It takes a few more thrusts, but before you know it, his lips are grazing yours, both of you letting out silent moans when he releases inside of you, painting your walls full of white ribbons.

He comes down from his high as he softens inside of you, lips pecking feathery kisses on yours before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. He grabs a napkin from your nightstand and gently wipes you clean before taking care of himself and throwing his arm back around you.

"You okay?" He brushes the hair out of your face before you roll onto your side.

"Definitely more sober now." You say, making him chuckle as he holds you close and kisses your shoulder.

"Good. At least I helped prevent the morning headache."

"Shut up." You chuckle.

"Anything for you." He continues to joke.

/ END FLASHBACK

After Yoongi gives your back a good introductory massage, he then turns to get the stones and holds them tightly in his palms. You feel the back of his hands work their way down on either side of your spine, all the way down to your sacrum, before coming back up. He repeats this process a few times before flipping his palms over and rolling the stones down the same path. He adds the right pressure against the surface of your skin, the heat just enough to penetrate and hit deeper into your tissue.

Yoongi doesn't even know how to feel right now with you being underneath him for a completely different reason today. And it's been years— years since you've last spoken, last talked.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't hurt all over again when he saw you.

You still looked beautiful as ever, still rocking that fine ass body with curves in all the right places. Yeah, he definitely wasn't hurt when you two ended up the way you did. He wish it never ended up that way. He wanted much, much more with you. You just never seemed to feel the same. But he couldn't dwell on it. Figured he'd just accept it and move on, even if that meant without you by his side. That was probably the hardest part all along. To be with you almost 24/7, to suddenly being without you at all. He had to do it though, for his own sake.

Yeah, he'd defnitely be lying if he said he wasn't hurt all over again when he saw you.

"Feels alright?" He dips lowly near your ear as he holds stones sideways and digs them deep into your shoulders, down your back, sacrum; always avoiding the spine directly.

"Mmm." Is all he hears. He continues to work all through your back and up to your neck before placing the stones down to rest along your spine. He places two tiny stones amongst your shoulders, guiding you to move your hand backwards one at a time, just so he can give you a good, deep, proper massage in between the scapula. Afterwards, he grabs new stones and moves down to your left leg. He uncovers it, gently massaging up and down your thigh, calf, in a circular motion with the stones, using them as an extension of his hands. He does this for awhile until he feels like he's done enough, the heat slowly moving away from the stones in his palms. So, he sticks a stone on the back of your knee where the bend is, and takes the other stone down to your foot for a soft massage— flipping the stone as needed to distribute the heat along your foot properly. Once he's finished with his final touches, he places the stone in the middle of your foot, covers the entire leg with the linen cloth and repeats the same process on your right leg.

You're sinking in and out of sleep while Yoongi massages you, all of a sudden forgetting the heated, awkward tension in the air as he continues to work his magic throughout your body. For a moment, you don't regret stepping foot into the establishment. For a moment, you don't ponder on your worries and why things feel so fucking tense between you and Yoongi. Then it hits you when he clears his throat in the background that yeah, your relationship, friendship— whatever the hell you wanted to call it— was cut off so abruptly. Seeing him made you really miss having him around. Because besides Rissa, he was someone you were able to lean on, have fun with, be yourself around.

There was no pressure with Yoongi before.

Now, there's a ton.

Pressure to, what? Fix things? Talk about things? Figure out where it went so, so wrong that he had upped and left, cutting off all ties with you without reason? You don't even know where or how to start.

"Y/N." He repeats.

"Hm?"

"I said I need you to flip over so I can work on the front of your body." You're nervous. God, you're nervous. It's like you were trying to impress him all over again, the same Min Yoongi that you had the fattest fucking crush on. The same Min Yoongi that you could do all that shit with, but could never admit that you had feelings for.

You hold onto the linen cloth as you carefully turn yourself over on the table, Yoongi once again giving you the privacy you need by turning his back. When he feels like he's given you enough time, he turns to see you pulling the linen cloth over your chest. He walks over, taking his biggest stone into another towel and wrapping it tightly before placing it down on your abdomen.

"That feel okay? Gonna leave this here while I work through your arms and legs."

"Yeah, that feels nice."

"Cool." He says, pressing it down ever so slightly just so you could feel the heat against your abdomen. He starts with your left leg, following the same rhythm he had when he massaged the back of your leg earlier. He takes the stones around your thigh, down to your calf, and works it in small circular motions before repeating the same up and down motion he had done before. He then takes the stone, places it underneath the bend of your knee and take the other to your foot. He gently grips your foot, working the stone in small motions against the surface before his touch disappears and he moves onto the next leg.

His touch.

You remember feeling cold without his touch.

After massaging your leg, he takes a moment to grab another warm towel and places it over your breasts before sliding the linen cloth down below your abdomen.

"Gonna give you a quick abdomen massage. The towel feel okay?" You let out a small 'mhm' before you hear him take a stone from behind you. He slowly introduces his touch against your abdomen, watching your body react to his touch.

His touch.

You remember how you used to react to his touch.

His touch is soft, gentle, when he presses into your abdomen, applying the right pressure as he goes on just as he realizes you're comfortable again. He takes a stone and proceeds with double-handed kneading that followed the pattern along your colon.

He makes his way up to work with your left arm, hooking the stone into the palm of his hand while he uses the other for support— gently running it up your arm and over your shoulder, back down towards your wrist. He switches to another stone and turns your hand over; starting from your palm and working his way up to your axillary node, then back down. Afterwards, he takes both stones in his hands, running it back all the way up before gently kneading as he comes back down. He leaves a stone under your hand before taking two long stones to do some manipulation around your shoulders. Once he feels like he has finished your left arm, he repeats the process on your right.

"That felt nice." Yoongi smirks at your sudden comment.

"That's the goal." He says, fixing the linen cloth over your body, tucking it in neatly so that your upper chest is properly exposed to him. "We're almost done here. I'll work on your upper chest and do a facial massage, okay? Then you'll be out of here."

"What if I don't wanna be out of here? It's too relaxing." You mumble.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way." He chuckles. "Relax." He closes off the quick conversation by soothing your upper chest, working his hands around, up the shoulders and neck just to warm up the tissue. He repeats the process but this time, takes his two long stones and works them in, running it across your chest and in circular motions around the shoulders. He places them right beneath your collarbones so you can continue feeling the heat penetrate your tissues before taking two smaller stones to your face. He works the stones in an outward motion on your cheek, your forehead, in between your eyes— before working in an upward motion along the same path. Then, he grabs two stones a size up, working it behind the neck, ear and into the hairline in smaller motions. He sets the stones aside, now finishing off the massage by working his fingers deep into your scalp, down to your temples, keeping his hands over your ears for a brief moment to let the heat and energy transfer over. "How do you feel?" He says lowly near your ear, the vibrations in his tone somehow still able to send a tingle down your spine after all these years.

"Really good."

"Yeah? That's good." He says, hands gently gliding down your neck, back to the surface of your chest before he removes the stones. "Hope that was a nice session for you."

"Way more than that. Thank you." He smiles to himself before turning towards the counter, placing the rest of his supplies back on the surface to remind himself to do some good cleaning and disinfecting before his next client.

"Take your time when you get up and get ready, alright? Don't get up too fast." You open your eyes, still feeling calm, relaxed, as your body feels every inch of the table.

"Can't I just stay?" You joke.

"No can do." Yoongi chuckles a bit.

"Hey." You call for him. "This might sound a little crazy to ask but, do you think we can catch up? It's been a long time, and quite frankly, I wasn't really expecting to run into you here." He turns over his shoulder before shaking his head.

"I don't know. I don't really think there's much for us to catch up on."

"You said it yourself, there's alot of things I don't know about you anymore. We used to be close—"

"Used to be." He says quite harshly when he cuts you off. "And yeah, just cause I said that, doesn't mean it's shit you need to know." He sighs, pushing his things aside before looking at you. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way, but you're right. It's been years, and to be honest, part of me just wants to leave it in the past like it should be kept in the past. I don't really know if there's much for us to talk about."

"Please don't be like that. I'm trying to figure out where things went wrong. It's always bothered me that we ended up this way." He shrugs.

"You ever think that maybe this is just how things were meant to be?" He says, giving you one last look, his tongue licking his bottom lip. "It was really nice to see you though, Y/N. Hope you had a good time." He says before grabbing the door knob and twisting it, not really expecting you to be back for another session after all of this. "Again, no rush. My next client isn't until an hour from now." With that, he walks out and shuts the door, leaving you to your own peace.

You were relaxed. Felt blissful, felt at ease.

But now, you aren't so sure. You aren't sure if you wanna break down and cry, if you wanna run after him and beg for him to just talk to you.

You just aren't sure.

So you get up and walk over to the back, throwing on your clothes before lazily tossing the robe into the hamper placed near the divider. You let out a breath before grabbing the knob and twisting it, revealing an empty hallway with a few closed doors in front of you. No Yoongi in sight though, and you can't help but feel a bit heavy walking out of the session as if you didn't just receive a hot stone massage from him.

"Hey! How was it?" Yannie asks, reading your expression as you walk out and tug on your unzipped hoodie. You give her a small, toothless smile and nod, hoping to be on your way quickly.

"It was great!" You simply say with a nod. "Definitely will be back." You lie, mainly because you aren't really sure where this leaves you with Yoongi even if you wanted to be back for one. Shit, that massage was everything you needed and more.

"Good to hear, we'll see you again soon then." She smiles before waving you off.

Fuck.

As for the rest of the day, you do take the time to walk around town, run into a few stores to window shop and eat at the nearby mom and pop Vietnamese restaurant for a good ol' bowl of pho. Mainly out of enjoyment for your day off, moreso because your thoughts were starting to plague your mind and you needed a distraction.

If anything, today taught you that you really needed to take more time out of your busy schedule to slip in some self-care. So, that's what you do to end your night just as well as you started it [you like to think]. You run some hot water and bubbles, pour a glass of red, red wine and light up some incense, candles.

"Wait—" Rissa says while you have her on speaker, phone sitting on the toilet cover. "Yoongi was your masseur?!”

"Yuuuup." You say, sipping on your red wine.

"Oh, this is some shit." She laughs. "Wish I could get my ass on that first flight home so I could see how you look right now."

"Don't even try it."

"Well, tell me the massage was at least worth it."

"It was, very much so." She chuckles.

"But?"

"But, what?"

"There's a 'but' in that sentence. Now, spill."

"It's just weird. We fell off so abruptly, there was no closure. I just wish we could talk about things, I'm not entirely sure where things went wrong between us and it kinda sucks now that I've seen him again."

"I know Yoongi has always meant a lot to you, Y/N. But you could never admit it to him, yourself, even. Don't you think that has a lot to do with this?"

"W-what? That's not true."

"See, there you go again." You sigh.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Think about it. Not saying that's it, there could be other reasons and the only person who would really know is Yoongi since we know what your side is like, but we don't know his."

"I don't know what to do. Should I go back?"

"What, for a massage or for Yoongi?" She laughs. "Or both, I guess."

"Both." You slip a bit further down into the water. "He was pretty direct today. I don't think he wants to talk about it, but part of me can't really let that go."

"You've always been stubborn like that. But, it's good, you know? You always go for what you want without giving up. I say go for it. If he really, really doesn't wanna see you and talk about things after this, then don't force it. Maybe he's right. It sucks to say, but maybe that's really how you two were supposed to end up." You sigh.

"Yeah, yeah." You respond simply, shutting your eyes as you let the hot water seep in and continue to relax your muscles. It was hard to say. Yoongi did mean a lot to you. He was someone you always had fun with, someone you could trust, someone who took care of you even when you didn't ask.

Of course, he meant a lot to you.

Of course, you wouldn't let that go after seeing him again.

But of course, Yoongi's detached and you're having to break through his walls yet again— most likely due to something you did that you weren't even aware of.

"You're back!" Yannie exclaims when she sees you walk through the door shyly.

"I am. I probably should have called beforehand, but I wasn't sure if I was going to make it in time before the last slot." You rub your hands together. "Is Yoongi here?"

"He sure is, and you just got lucky. His last spot cancelled not too long ago." Yannie shrugs.

"Sweet."

"He's with someone right now, but the session will be over—" She glances at the time. "Pretty soon, actually. Take a seat and get comfortable for now, alright?" She smiles, handing you one form to sign. You silently take the form with you, reading through the liability language again as you take your pen and get ready to sign at the line on the bottom half of the page. Sooner or later, you hear some giggling and a female voice echoing in the back hallway, a pretty, young lady coming through with Yoongi following behind her.

His smile drops almost instantly when he sees you sitting there. But it's not cause he's mad or anything, no. He could never be that mad at you after everything, could never hold a big grudge against you. He's just surprised that you're back, and he's also [surprisingly] relieved to see you're back.

Your eyes, and that smile.

The way you always used to hold onto him and hold his hand, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes.

Your laugh.

He could never be that mad at you.

"Hey, I know your last client cancelled, but Y/N is here hoping to grab that slot." Yoongi nods.

"Yeah, it's no problem." He looks at the young lady in front of him as she bats her lashes and sways her hips while walking towards the door.

"See you next session, Yoonks?" She calls him a weird nickname that falls off her tongue so poorly. God.

"Of course." He smiles shyly, hand coming to the nape of his neck as he watches her walk out. He finally turns his attention towards you and clears his throat when he realizes you had been watching the interaction the entire time. "I um, just need to clean up in there a bit then I'll be ready for you. Give me a couple of minutes."

"Okay." Is all you say before finally scribbling your fucking signature on that line. Oh, Yoonks. Hope she isn't the one you're slipping in bed with. Your heart would be crushed to know he already had someone, even though you knew it was a high possibility after all this time. You couldn't be selfish with him forever.

Sooner or later, you're pulled out of your thoughts when Yoongi peeks his head out into the waiting area and taps the door frame. He purses his lips together when he looks at you and nods.

"Ready?"

"Mmyeah." You get up to follow him.

"Enjoy!" Yannie exclaims when she sees you follow him to the back. You quietly continue on, setting your things aside like you had done before when you step into the room and Yoongi shuts the door behind him.

"Was that your girlfriend, or something?" You tease.

"No. Repeat client." He looks at you before turning. "Somehow, I know you aren't really here for the massage." He fiddles with his things on the counter.

"I mean, I am. I could really use one."

"But you wanna try and talk, don't you?" You silently excuse yourself behind the divider to change and slip the robe on.

"Maybe. I won't push it." You say, tying the robe close before taking a seat on the edge of the table.

"Mm, but you always push it." He softly chuckles. "There's no stopping Y/N when she's determined to get what she wants." He turns to look at you, white tee hugging his body so nicely— you can't help but ogle a bit when he steps in front of you.

"No, not anymore necessarily." You try and cover your shit up even though both him and Rissa are right. You know this.

"Right." He lets out a little laugh. "You wanna lie down so we can get this started?" He walks over to the cabinets, grabbing a fresh, clean pair of linens in his hands. When he turns, he catches you removing your robe and covering your breasts when you're about to lie down. He quickly turns because quite frankly, he shouldn't even be in here for this— but, it's you.

You know this, too.

"I'm ready." You tell him, placing your face into the cushion comfortably.

"Cool." He says, draping your lower body with the linen in his hand, tucking it gently into your sides to make you feel even more comfortable. He makes his way to the front, preparing to manually massage you before adding the stones just so he can introduce his touch again. "Gonna start, alright? Relax, breathe in and out. I'll massage you without the stones first to get your tissues warmed up."

"Okay." You pause before calling for him again. "Yoongi?" You let out a little weirdly with the pressure he's adding onto your back.

"Hm?"

"What really happened between us?" He chuckles.

"And here you were, trying to tell me you weren't gonna push the agenda. Do you have to do this now? Mid-hot stone massage?" You head the clacking of the stones against each other before he starts working it into your back. He's right, it honestly feels too good for you to speak properly, but you felt like this was the only way— the only option, so to speak. His number had changed, he wasn't necessarily on social media. Didn't live at home with his parents anymore.

How else could you contact him besides seeing him for a massage?

"What other choice do I have?"

"I already told you there isn't much to talk about."

"Yeah, so why are we so awkward with each other?"

"It's been years."

"Why has it been years, Yoongi?" He sighs, head falling before he continues to work your back.

"It's your massage, don't blame me if you don't feel completely rested afterwards." He caves, gives in, knowing he can't ever say no to you. He can't ever be that mad, no.

You know that.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Y/N. I was pretty upset with you when we spoke last. Do you even remember when that was?" He speaks up again.

"In college, yeah." You let out a small sigh when he deeply massages near the shoulder blades.

"So, you don't exactly remember?"

"Yoongi, I don't. Okay? I'm sorry." He should've expected it. He remembers that scene so clearly in his head, it almost aches him. He really did like you, Y/N. Min Yoongi was so much in like with you that he wanted to stop being friends with benefits, and he wanted more out of it. He was sure you two could take it there, no doubt. You fit each other well. So, so well—

Until you didn't.

/ FLASHBACK

"Sorry, I need to go find Y/N soon. She said she wanted to kick it." Yoongi tells his friend, Akio.

"What, for a quick fuck?" He laughs, making Yoongi shake his head.

"Shut the fuck up. She's not just a quick fuck. That girl means a lot to me, alright?" Yoongi catches the way Akio's face falls, moreso into confusion.

"Wait, you're not serious, right?"

"I'm pretty sure I am." Yoongi responds sarcastically, a little thrown off at the way he's taking the news right now. Was there something he wasn't aware about? Last time he checked, even if you two weren't serious, you both were exclusively just fucking around with each other and each other only.

Yoongi could be completely wrong at this point, though. But he hoped he wasn't. He really respected you and cared about you more than anyone he has ever crossed paths with, and the foundation of your friendship, that closeness you two had before anything, meant everything to him. He would never fuck that up. That's why he always checked in with you, always made sure that what you two were doing was still okay. He would never wanna disrespect you or make you feel uncomfortable. He never wanted to step out of line, or even hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Look, I just thought you two settled on the fact that you were friends with benefits, that's all."

"What do you know that I don't?"

"Nothing, man. That's it."

"Don't lie to my face, dude." Yoongi gives off a nervous chuckle. "What did she say to you?"

"She's been telling people that you two weren't serious and that she couldn't really see you two together like that.. or— that she couldn't see you like that." Ouch. Yoongi's fucking hurt, alright. And if that wasn't enough, Yoongi catches the way Akio looks past his shoulder, so he follows his gaze. He turns to see you flirting with the hot soccer boy on campus, Kane, who was also notorious for sleeping around and messing with other females at the same time.

Great.

Fucking great.

Because he knows you wouldn't turn that down— no, the fuck you wouldn't.

And he wishes he was wrong because the moment he sees you hold onto his arm and let him walk you up into the dormitory, his heart sinks. Shatters to pieces. Everything feels numb.

He thought you two were on the same page. Clearly, you weren't. He could never be that mad at you, though. Because he's always gonna have it for you, always gonna have that soft spot for you and hold you close, even if you were meant to stray away, even if you were meant to be kept at a distance.

He could never be that mad at you, no.

"I'm sorry my guy, I really thought you two had been on the same page. I didn't wanna be the first to break it to you like that. Maybe you should talk to her."

"No, it's good. You're right, it's really not that serious." He lies.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's whatever." Akio shrugs.

"Alright then, I'm just saying. It could be good for you two to talk. It seems like there's still a disconnect somewhere." Yoongi ignores his added statement and pats him on the back.

"Gotta go, catch you later." He thought you two were close enough, thought he could read every inch of you, be that person who knew you like the back of his hand. He thought he had the privilege of having that much access to you because god, never in a million years would he have guessed. It started off so innocently, started off as two friends going through college together, before it grew into something more.

He wished it could blossom into more.

But now, maybe he truly does have to keep you at a distance. Keep you away, treat you like your mind and heart had been somewhere else this entire time.

Fuck.

Later that evening, Yoongi runs into you after you finish up a review session in the library. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight, but there was no turning back. You weren't even aware that he knew about the things you said, seeing you with Kane earlier today. You knew nothing.

"Hey." You giggle, swinging your arms around him, but he gently pries it off and continues to walk towards his dorm. "Wait, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just having an off day." He says, keeping his head hung low.

"What happened?"

"Classes, homework. Lots of stuff to do."

"Oh, okay. That's it?" You nervously chuckle. "You got it, champ. I know you'll get through it." You playfully punch at his bicep, but he doesn't respond. "Okay, well, I'm sorry it's been a bad day." You awkwardly rub at your arms, stopping in your tracks. "I'm gonna go hang out with Kane and his friends, alright? Let me know if you need me."

"Mhm." He says, brushing you off completely and walking into this dormitory building.

/ END FLASHBACK

"I was waiting for you to try and figure out what was wrong. I wanted you to come to me and fix things, like I always do when something is off between us—" He works his way to your left arm. "With you. But the one night I needed you to do the same, you couldn't. Then you proceeded to tell me you were gonna go off and hang out with Kane and his friends." He says, working the stones down your arm.

"I wish you could have just told me."

"Y/N. You knew something was wrong, but you just didn't try to fix it. You didn't really care in the moment. The only thing you cared about was yourself and benefitting for yourself." You aren't really sure how to respond because now that you think about the moment, he was right. You knew something was off, but you didn't care enough to try and fix it. Yoongi had always been there for you, had always put you before anyone and anything.

And the one time he expected you to pull your own weight, even as a good friend [all benefits and fuckbuddy shit aside], you couldn't do that for him.

"I'm sorry."

"I mean." He chuckles, covering your arm with the linen before moving down to your leg. "Doesn't really matter anymore, right?"

"Of course it does. I'm sorry it had to take this for me to realize but it really fucked me up that we just stopped talking. I was dumb." You mumble.

"You're not dumb, don't say things like that." He adds.

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't apologize anymore. It's fine. I shouldn't have made it such a big deal."

"It is a big deal." He sighs a bit. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"Were you really hurt about the whole Kane thing?"

"Are you really asking me this?"

"Right." You subtly shake your head. "I take it back—"

"Of course I was hurt." He continues to reply anyway. "I thought we were on the same page. We were for awhile. My feelings for you grew, and I thought we'd eventually make our way into something bigger than just being friends with benefits. I cared a lot about you, I tried to do a lot of things to show you that you were something special to me. You always came first because I had never had someone make me feel comfortable in my own skin the way that you did. Then—" He gently massages your foot with the stone before moving onto your other leg, introducing is touch just like he did before. "When I found out you were messing with other people and telling other people you didn't really see me that way, it fucked me up."

"Yoongi." You turn your head to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of him somehow.

"Nah, it's okay. You wanted an explanation so I'm giving it to you. Really, there's no need to try and apologize for it now. It's all in the past and I kinda just wanna leave it that way." You're a tad bit hurt at the way he won't accept the apology, but part of you understood that it took way too long for you to realize that something you had done affected him in ways you could only imagine.

"I should've done better." Is all you can say. He doesn't respond to it, though. Just continues to massage you, make you feel good like he always has done. You feel a little awkward now, lowkey regretting the fact that you came here with the sole intention to get Yoongi to talk about what happened between you two. Although, it was definitely something you needed to hear. Where to go from here though? You had no idea how to navigate this. What if this was it? After seeing him, you didn't want it to be. You wanted to try and fix this, even with knowing that it was close to impossible to bring back what you two had before.

That's the only thought that continued to plague your mind at this moment; the only thought that repeated itself over and over again that you didn't even realize you were now having to face him as you switch onto your back to let Yoongi massage the front of your body.

"You can relax, you know?" He looks you in the eye, a little confused as to why you're just plainly staring at him as he starts the front body massage.

"I'm sorry." You repeat, close to a whisper. "I just wanna fix things between us. I know it's a little late, but better late than never right?"

"Mm, I'm always going to have a soft spot for you Y/N.. but in a way where I can just support you and care about you from a distance. I think we work better that way."

"Do we, though?"

"These past years kinda say so, don't you think?"

"But that's because I didn't know any better." He shrugs.

"It seemed to be fine." He simply states.

"Were you, though? I missed you, a lot. I just didn't know how else to reach out to you before, or where to even find you."

"Don't say things you don't mean." He lets out a tiny breath, pursing his lips together.

"I do mean that. I thought about us, you, a lot. I missed the way you cared for me and how you were always there for me. I missed how you always made me feel so special." You stop there, even though you can go on and on about how Yoongi made you feel back in the days. That lingering feeling of attachment, of needing his touch, his cuddles, the way he never let you down. Fuck, he was so good to you. You let him get away.

"Sounds like this is purely for your benefit."

"You can't say we didn't make each other happy."

"You did make me happy, I just wasn't the case for you."

"Of course you made me happy."

"Kinda hard to believe." He says flatly. "Look, I said what I needed to say. I think that's what you wanted, right? I've just come to the conclusion that we're better off the way that we ended up. You'll always mean something to me, no matter what. Don't get me wrong. But, I think we both just need to continue moving on and leaving that where it belongs." Suddenly the room feels hot and tense, especially when he's incredibly close to your ear, close to your face, your lips. His hands continue to travel down your body, working his touch like he's always been so good at doing.

You leave it at that, though. Respecting his wishes, not wanting to push any further to avoid more issues. Although it fucking kills you, and you wish you could just snap your fingers and you and Yoongi could return to your old ways like shit never happened.

You should've known better, you could have done better. You were too selfish to try at the moment, and now you're laying here wondering how things could have been if you just tried a little harder for him.

He's the one that got away.

Maybe he was right, maybe there really was no coming back from this. Maybe it was just better this way.

When the massage comes to a close, Yoongi softly lets you know that the session has concluded, but doesn't say much. He doesn't offer for you to come back like the first time you came here, doesn't really offer much in general. You quietly get up to change behind the divider, tossing the robe into the hamper while Yoongi tidies up his room for closure tonight. When he hears you come out from behind the divider, he simply gives you a look over his shoulder before returning his attention to his supplies beneath his hands.

"You feel alright?" He decides to ask anyway.

"I guess so." You dig your hands into your pockets. "Thank you."

"Of course." He finally turns to fully look at you, eyes locking onto yours as his tongue comes out to meet the corner of his mouth. You don't pull your gaze away for a bit, his look still giving you those same old butterflies you used to feel when he used to give you the same look back in the day. His eyes used to say a lot about how he felt about you without the need to actually say it out loud. He watches as you grab one of his business cards and scribble something on the back before handing it to him.

"Just know that I'm really sorry, and I really wish we could fix things. Or, I could fix things. I should have done better for you, especially when I knew I felt more for you than what I showed at the time." He sees that you had written your number on the back of one of his business cards, eyes locked on it as it sits in his hand. "In case you ever needed it." You give him one last look before giving him a tiny, toothless smile and excusing yourself out of his room.

Don't get it twisted, though. You do feel relieved he at least told you what was going through his head at the time, and what had happened between the two of you. But, the majority of you felt guilty, and you weren't sure how you'd fix this without forcing the connection, without forcing what wasn't meant to be.

Damn.

"Sorry, I just came out of my massage and got home." You place the phone against your ear as you step into your apartment.

"How was it?" Rissa asks with a small giggle.

"I don't even know, Rissa. I think I may have just fucked this up for good. I shouldn't have gone back."

"Don't say that. Tell me what happened." She says, hearing another sigh leave your lips as you place your bag and keys down.

"I'm so stupid, Rissa. I should have known he was hurt by the whole Kane thing. I should have told him the truth."

"Girl, not to be the 'I told you so' bitch, but I am gonna be that bitch and say I told you so." She says directly. "I knew you were caught up at the time cause Kane was giving you the attention, who wouldn't? But you going around saying the things you said about Yoongi and denying that entire thing was definitely going to backfire."

"God, I was so fucking selfish and dumb." You lay back against your couch and let your head rest back, now remembering the times you brushed Yoongi off without even realizing.

"We live and we learn, at least now you know." Rissa says.

"I apologized, though. I really did try to talk to him about it."

"I'm sure he appreciates it, love. What else did he say?"

"Nothing. He just thinks that maybe we really were meant to fall off and be this way. He was saying that after all these years, it just seems better. He just wants to keep it that way and keep it in the past."

"Maybe he just needs time to think. I'm sure it was hard on his part, especially having to unexpectedly face it again. You know Yoongi doesn't trust a lot of people, and you probably were the one person he could fully trust. I'm sure it hurt him a lot." She says softly.

"I don't know what to do now. I left him my number but fuck, I don't even think he'll use it. He probably trashed it the moment I left the room."

"Just give it time. Again, if it really is meant to be, then it'll happen in time. If not, then I hate to say it, but maybe he's right, hun."

"I hate to think of it that way. God. Why didn't I just realize it at the time?"

"We were young and dumb. It was college. We weren't worried about all this because we wanted to have fun."

"Doesn't make it an excuse." You sighed heavily. "I don't know. I really can't do anything to force it, so I'll just let it be like you like said." There's a small pause before Rissa speaks again.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I will be." You shake your head, not wanting to think more about the situation for the rest of the night. "So, tell me all about what you did today, please? What fun did you get into?" She hears it in your voice, and as your bestfriend, she knows very well that you don't like to stress too much about things. So, she gives you what you want. Gives you the full details of her day so that the both of you can pick at the little things and go off on tangents.

Just so you no longer have to think about Yoongi for tonight.

But that's the opposite case for Yoongi, even if he didn't want it to be the case. Because the moment he gets home from work, all he can think about is you.

He hates that this is always the case with you, hates that he always has that soft spot for you no matter how direct or blunt he can get. Hates how you always have him in some kind of hold, hates how after all these years, you can still make him weak in one way or another.

But he'll never be that mad at you, no. He can never be that mad at you.

/ FLASHBACK

"Hey." Yoongi whispers, slipping into your dorm bed around 2AM. You were fast asleep, cuddled up in your blankets. But, you always left your door open especially for Yoongi to slip himself in.

"You're so cold." You mumble against the sheets, scooting to make room for Yoongi to situated himself in your bed next to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, instantly wanting some of the heat you radiated under the covers. "Yoooongi." You whine, trying to pry his arms off of you.

"Baby, you're so warm though." He snuggles against your neck. "Missed you." You continue to whine a bit until you feel him warming up behind you.

"How was Akio's birthday outing?"

"Fun. Kinda drunk, not gonna lie."

"I see." You chuckle a bit, eyes still closed as you turn to face him and snuggle against his chest.

"Been too long without you."

"Shut up." You giggle, eyes slowly flickering as you look at him in the dark.

"Did you miss me?"

"No."

"Fucking liar." He laughs, pulling you closer. He places a peck on your forehead before moving down to the tip of your nose and your lips. You giggle when he continues to give you small, feathery kisses against your lips, playfully pushing him away to get some air.

"You're so fucking affectionate right now. Gross."

"Just missed you." He squeezes your thigh and pulls you near, your waist tucked as close as possible to his crotch. You liked it when he did this shit though, always telling you how much he missed you, how much he wanted you. Always made you feel good, feel special. "Can I kiss you, please?" He looks at you, brushing the hair away from your face and off your shoulder.

"You still have to ask?" You turn a bit, laying on your back with your head turned towards his direction.

"I always have to ask. I never like to assume." He says, large hand coming to cup your cheek. "C'mere." His thumb caresses the surface as he slowly brings your face closer to his, eyes drawn to yours, then down to your lips. When you feel his soft lips press a light kiss against your own, you can't help but release all the butterflies in your tummy. You feel tingles run down your spine, your arms, entire body, even as he continues to deepen his kisses.

It's a quiet night. The only sounds that fill the room are the sweet, soft, slow kisses being exchanged between the two of you. And it was perfectly fine. There were no expectations to fulfill any other need besides being in each other's company and enjoying each other's kisses.

His hand slips down to your sides, giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulls you closer, peppering your jaw and the surface of your neck with feathery kisses. He hungrily moves back to your lips, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling it back with a soft pop. You moan against the next kiss, tugging on his shirt as his hand roams inside of yours.

"Can we fuck already?"

"Not what I came here for." He chuckles when he pulls back from the kiss. "Just wanted to kiss you and cuddle you to sleep."

"Wow, are you being foreel?" You kinda laugh in his face, unsure if he was serious or not.

"Seriously." He edges his face to kiss you some more on the neck, letting him do whatever he wanted to do to you.

Which was that; it was just that. And sometimes, you really did enjoy this part of having Yoongi around— where there was nothing but safety, comfort. No strings attached.

/ END FLASHBACK

The flashback comes into Yoongi's mind after he steps out of the shower, your constant 'I'm sorry's' repeating in his head while he looked at his own business card sitting next to his phone on the bathroom sink counter.

More like your voice repeating in his head, the look on your face repeating in his head. Your eyes, lips.

He can never forget those.

The towel hangs loosely on his waist, water drips down his orange hair, down his chest. He lets out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone, clicking his teeth when he grabs the card.

"Fuck." He mumbles to himself when he types in your number and decides to send a text. A lousy, little text—

[unknown number] 8:53am: coming by again any time soon?

[unknown number] 8:54am: it's yoongi btw

He's definitely lost his touch. He does a slight head tilt when he tosses his phone aside, waiting for your response. Albeit, he hasn't really had a relationship since he was messing with you. Had a few fuckbuddies on the side to try and get rid of the shit you put him through. Nonetheless though, it was never going to compare.

You look at your phone, startled at the sudden notification [especially since it wasn't your family or Rissa]. You look at Yoongi's text for a little bit, unsure if you're relieved he actually put your number to use or if you're nervous about interacting with him some more.

[y/n] 8:58am: why do you ask?

[yoongi] 9:01am: promos happening, just thought you should know

You smirk. That was a terrible lie, and he should've known better than to pull that one.

[y/n] 9:05am: riiiight.. lol. thought about coming later today. could use another massage after this proposal takes everything out of me. wasn't sure if i'd try another kind of massage tho.

[yoongi] 9:07am: you don't want the other dudes here, trust me

[y/n] 9:08am: and why not??

[yoongi] 9:11am: just cause. let me know if you're stopping by, ok? i'm free at 4.

[y/n] 9:12am: yoongi, i know you aren't really just texting me about some promos..

[yoongi] 9:14am: i mean i am

[yoongi] 9:15am: listen, i just want you to know that i didn't mean to come off rude or anything last session. i'm sorry, alright? you know i never mean to hurt you, but i also had to be real with you

[y/n] 9:17am: heard you loud & clear.

[yoongi] 9:18am: so coming by later today?

[y/n] 9:20am: sure, i guess so. why not.

[yoongi] 9:21am: kk

[y/n] 9:22am: why do you want me to come by so badly?

[yoongi] 9:23am: just think we need to re-do last session, felt kinda bad

[yoongi] 9:25am: i gotta run, i'm about to be fucking late and i haven't even left the house yet. i'll see u later

You look at your phone in slight disbelief. This was starting to sound a bit like the Yoongi you knew, however, you were still confused as to why he wanted you to come by so badly.

Plus, he didn't even want you to try the other services they had to offer because he felt like he needed to re-do the last session?

He was up to something. Even if he wouldn't say it directly.

But really, you knew it was easy for Yoongi to feel bad. He never liked making you upset in any way possible, never liked making you feel like you weren't worth his time or effort. Because you always were worth it, you were always going to be worth it to him.

When you left the other day, he couldn't help but feel a tad bit guilty about his tone and how he came off. He never intended for it to be that way. Sure, he was hurt. But he wasn't going to fight fire with fire. Seeing you made him miss you, too. He was afraid to admit it, but he'll say it now. He does miss you. He misses how things used to be. And maybe it won't ever go back to that 100%, but he'd enjoy having you back in his life one way or another.

That's why he doesn't want you to try the other services and see his colleagues. They had their own shit going on too, anyway. He tends to be pretty selfish with you, whether he realizes it or not.

Your day goes by stressfully, with this month-long proposal finally being submitted as a final draft to your boss. You had put in so much time and effort into this, fixing every single detail down to the T to make sure it was to his liking. He has you walk through the proposal from beginning to end, suggesting teeny tiny last n minute edits before he tells you that the proposal is beautiful and that it should be good to go after the last corrections have been made.

A relief.

You definitely deserved this massage, especially since you worked so hard, so long, on this shit [that wasn't necessarily even your responsibility] and took the project under your wing with grace.

Waltzing into Blissful Hands a bit before 4PM, the waiting room is a bit more packed than you the past two times you've been here. Yannie gives you a wave, signaling for you to do the same routine before seeing Yoongi. You sit there awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers until you see Yoongi poke his head out from the hallway to give you an 'i'm ready for you' nod. You purse your lips together and follow him to his room— this time, candles lit, incense burning.

"Uh, wow." You set your things aside. "Those smell really nice."

"Figured I'd help you relax a bit more this time." He looks at you. "How are you feeling today?"

"Good I guess, finally fucking finished that proposal I've been working on for months."

"Yeah?" He licks his bottom lip before turning. "That's good. Assuming you're in marketing like you've always dreamed of getting into?" You shrug before walking towards the back divider.

"Mhm." It's quiet for a moment as you switch out of your clothes and get into the robe, gently sitting on the edge of the table while your feet dangle as Yoongi prepares the rest of his supplies. He finally turns and comes towards you, hand brushing the hair away from your shoulder.

"Is it okay if I start with the front today?" He asks you.

"Do you always do that?"

"Sometimes, If I wanna switch it up."

"You know best." He chuckles a bit.

"Lie down, please." He hands you a smaller linen to cover your breasts when you slip out of the robe and lie down in the position he needs you to be in.

"Did you really feel bad for last time?"

"Kinda, yeah. Not gonna lie. Didn't want you to think I was coming off like a dick."

"Maybe just a tad. Understandable though. It's my fault."

"Sorry." He says. "I am happy to see you again, you know?" He says softly. "You always win."

"Win?" You watch as he drips some oil down your arm, eyes locking onto yours as he places the tiny bottle down. He starts to work his hands down your arm and up to your shoulder, to the base of your neck, his touch sending tingles down your spine this time.

"I can never stay mad at you." He says huskily. "After all this time, I didn't think it'd be the same way, but it is."

"Elaborate."

"I—" He sighs a bit, positioning himself right above your head as he drops more oil down your left arm and abdomen. "I was just remembering the times we spent together, that's all."

"I miss it." You simply tell him. You know your eyes should be shut right now, but for some reason, you can't. He doesn't even tell you to, and you know it's his intention when he locks eyes with you during the duration of his warm up. Even as Yoongi turns to grab some of his stones, he still looks at you.

He keeps looking at you.

You swallow the lump in your throat when he takes a stone down your arm, slowly. His body drops a little closer to yours, his chin almost matching your level when he brings it back up and down with the right pressure.

"Does it feel okay?" He asks, close to a whisper, lips only inches away from yours.

"Mhm." You look at him.

"Harder? Softer? Let me know."

"It's perfect, Yoongi."

"Okay." He works your arms before moving the smaller stones to your abdomen. His finger gently brushes over the linen cloth covering your clothed pussy, his eyes flickering back up to you when he catches you slightly flinch. "You okay?"

"Sorry, was just not ready for that."

"I'll take it slow." He says, his hands using the stones as an extension as he kneads and kneads gently into your stomach and abdomen. You weren't sure why, but you were nervous around him. But in a way where you had hoped you were still enough for him. In a way where he'd look at you and still remember how he felt about you back in the day, even if you couldn't get that back. At least he'd remember.

His touch makes your palms sweaty and he feels that when he takes his tiny stones against your palm and places them in between your fingers.

"Nervous?"

"Not really." He smirks.

"You don't have to lie, I can tell Y/N." He gives you a hand massage. "Don't be nervous, okay? I told you I wanted you to relax this time around."

"Okay."

"Gonna move to your legs now." He uncovers your right leg, locking eyes with you once again when he lets the oil drip from your thigh to your inner thigh, even as he continues to move down your leg. His large hands start from your feet, up to your calf and knee before he's kneading your thigh and inner thigh. Your breathing hitches when you feel him getting closer and closer to your heat, only for him to pull away and grab his stones.

"Yoongi?" You panic and call for him even though you don't necessarily know what you're trying to say right now.

"Mhm?"

"T-that felt nice." You recover quickly.

"Yeah?" He focuses the stone in his palm against your inner thigh, watching as you close your eyes momentarily, body feeling heavy but relaxed in his grip. "Good."

And it's like that, it just continues to be a teasing game for the majority of the session. You weren't sure what Yoongi was hinting at during this moment, but god, did he make you feel good. He always knew how to make you feel good, one way or another. The session goes on for the full hour, Yoongi standing near the side of the table as you try to sit up and stable yourself post-mini nap while he worked on your back. He places his hand on your thigh as your cover your body with the linen cloth, brushing your hair back as you sit and get yourself together.

"Yo, are you okay? Was it that bad?" You chuckle.

"Shut up. It felt so nice. I wish I could just lay here forever, seriously." He smiles. "You're really good at what you do."

"Thanks." You look at him and he doesn't say much, but he also doesn't move away. "Guess I'll be seeing you again then?"

"Maybe." You stand, bodies almost pressed together with the way he doesn't move in his position. "I just hope I'm not a bother."

"You've never been a bother. Just wanted you to actually enjoy yourself." He says. The pause lingers for longer than you imagined, and you're not entirely sure what takes over you in that brief moment [although you kinda do], but you move yourself closer to him, lips crashing into his.

He doesn't move away.

He takes the kiss and runs with it, hands coming up to the small of your back to press you flush against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants against your covered core, and suddenly, you want more out of Yoongi. You're just not sure if you could have it the same way you did before—

"Do you know what you're doing right now?" He pulls back slightly, whispering against your lips.

"Think so."

"I don't know if we should be doing this again."

"Then why didn't you stop me earlier?"

"Shit is just going to get complicated."

"It doesn't have to be. What was all that during the session?"

"I was just doing my job, Y/N" He steps back a bit, teeth nibbling onto his bottom lip. "I—yeah." He sets his things aside. "We probably shouldn't." He scratches at his temple, flustered from the kiss because yeah, does he want you. He really does miss you, does miss having that relationship he had with you— keeping you close, having you to himself at one point.

He's not sure why or how these feelings came rushing back, but they did, especially after you laid that kiss on him moments ago. It's like the complete closure you two were looking for never came because it brought you two to this very moment where maybe, you didn't need to close that part off. Maybe, you both didn't need to shut each other out completely for the rest of your lives.

Maybe, it would be better this time around.

But no, Yoongi still gets a little afraid, still is doubtful. He doesn't know anything about your life right now besides you working your dream job. Hell, you could have a man for all he knows and that could all be fucked up and complicated now.

What was he doing?

What were you two doing?

That was always the question, and that's probably the biggest reason why he just had to step away in the first place.

"Um, I'll give you some space to get dressed." He says, clearing his throat. "You can make your next appointment at the front after, okay?"

"Wait, Yoongi—" You watch as he scurries on out, shutting the door behind him and leaving you to your own peace. "Fuck." You run your hand through your hair, dragging the stupid linen cloth along with you to the back divider to get changed. You still hoped you could catch him, so you hurriedly throw on your clothes and grab your bag, not realizing that your wallet had been poking out and fell onto the floor in the midst of your swift motions.

No Yoongi in sight.

You let out a deep sigh, tugging on your bag strap as you walk out and greet Yannie with that same old 'it felt amazing' smile you always give her before walking out of the establishment.

Fresh air. Fresh, fresh air. No tension, no suffocation.

"Rissa, fuck." You call her as soon as you step into your door, tossing off your shoes and throwing your keys aside. "I'm sorry, I know it's probably still stupid early there but I need you."

"What happened?" She sleepily asks, still trying to get some shut eye in before she has to fully wake up for her day.

"I kissed him."

"Oh fuck." She lets out with a laugh. "Ohhh fuck. Wow, yeah, I like waking up to this kinda news."

"No, bad!" You tell her in a whiny tone. "I shouldn't have, and now it's probably gonna be so awkward. I couldn't help it though, I felt like he was teasing me all session and being gentle with me for certain reasons."

"He's a fucking masseuse, Y/N." She laughs.

"He was teasing me!"

"Listen, he probably liked the kiss so much he had to run off and hide his boner." She shuffles in the back. "That boy has always had it for you. I ship."

"Rissa."

"What, you can't tell me that this is out of the ordinary. You two are always so fucking weird about your relationship, especially you. Just get together already!" She yells into her pillow. "You two obviously have always really liked each other and those feelings never went away. Why don't you finally do something about it? I mean, don't you think there's a reason why you two crossed paths again?"

"Ugh."

"Yeah, ugh. You're telling me." She chuckles. "Go for it this time. Please don't hold back and just go for it." You pause, digging through your bag to try and find your wallet. "Hello? All of a sudden you don't wanna say shit." She jokes.

"Wait, oh my god." You start to panic a bit when you realize your wallet is nowhere to be found. "What the fuck!"

"What's wrong?"

"My wallet? It's gone? I don't know if I dropped it or—"

"Did you have it on you when you got to the massage parlor?"

"Yeah, I did." You sigh and run your hand through your hair. "Shit."

"Welp, guess you're going back to see Yoongi." She giggles. "I better hear about him clapping your cheeks when you get back."

"You're too much." You roll your eyes and shake your head. "I gotta go before I lose my shit even more."

"Update me, text me, whatever. I hope you find it, boo. I'm sure it's just there."

"Thanks. I'll keep you posted." You grab your keys, sighing deeply as you slip back into your shoes and head out back to the parlor. It's not as busy as it was earlier, with only two people waiting in the waiting room for their sessions. Yannie is surprised to see you back, questioning whether or not something had gone wrong during your last session. You simply tell her no, and that you were just over to check if your wallet had fallen out in Yoongi's room. Luckily, he doesn't have anyone back there just yet, so she lets you head on back and straight to his room.

No Yoongi again, though.

You peek your head in at first, scanning the room to see if Yoongi may have just been hiding in the corners, but he wasn't there. You welcome yourself into the room anyway, figuring you were harmlessly looking for your wallet. You scan the side of the room thoroughly, checking the sides, crevices, making sure you weren't missing the item as you passed along. When you finally hit the back area, you catch a glimpse of your wallet right underneath the divider, giving you some relief.

"Oh, thank god." You mutter to yourself.

"What're you doing?" You jump, startled at Yoongi's voice as he stands at the doorway with a tangerine in his hand.

"I—uh, dropped my wallet. Didn't realize it until I got home." You raise your wallet and shyly show him.

"Oh." Is all he says.

"Sorry, I'll get out of your way now." You try to rush out but he blocks your path, holding his hand out.

"Wait, you don't have to rush out."

"Kinda want to after earlier." You directly tell him.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do in the moment." He looks at you, genuinely trying to apologize. "I mean— it happened so fast. I didn't know what to say or do." He stumbles over his own words.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing."

"Look Y/N, I didn't mean all of that. I didn't mean to lead you on, or anything. It was kinda just.. a defense mechanism for me. It's been so long since we both had been close in that way and I'm afraid you'd pull the same shit."

"Things change, you know? Even though I didn't try before, doesn't mean I wouldn't try this time around." You try to brush past him, but you still aren't successful. "Yoongi, please just let me get home."

"I know things change." He says. "Can we— can we just do that whole thing over?"

"You'd want to?" You cock your head to the side, trying your best to read him.

"I know we both had our own faults in the past and I want to leave that there as much as possible. At the same time, I really missed you and it's been hitting me ever since the first time you walked into this establishment. I don't know what it is about you, Y/N. I don't know if I'll ever figure it out. But I want us to move past that and start fresh, whatever that means. I'd hate to let you slip away again." He looks at you, stares into your soul almost. You don't really know what to say except, you know this feeling all too well. You've felt this for Yoongi for so long, you've thought about him and your relationship with him for so long. He was the one you couldn't stop thinking about, the one who you always managed to ponder 'what if's' and 'maybe's' about.

You're also terrible with words, but you nod anyways. And you finally find the courage to tell him—

"I feel the same way." He gives you a tiny smile before placing his tiny tangerine down on the counter. He gently cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that manages to deepen quickly— so quickly that you find yourself being carried onto the table. Yoongi sits you on the end, hands roaming up your sides before giving it a good squeeze.

"I wasn't sure how to take it earlier, please don't take it personally." He whispers near your jaw as he begins to pepper it with light kisses. You tilt your head back slightly to give him more area to work with, eyes shut and rolling to the back of your head when you feel his tongue glide over your neck and below your ear.

"I'm sorry. I—" You whisper back, trying to explain why you had the sudden urge to kiss him at that moment, but he cuts you off.

"It's fine, you don't need to explain. We're here now, right? Can't necessarily turn back." His lips graze yours as his hand travels down your shirt, tugging on the bottom half to signal that he wants you out of it. "Don't necessarily want to, either."

"Fuck— don't you have someone coming in soon?"

"In about 30 minutes, yeah."

"Yoongi."

"Can make you cum before then, right?" He smirks, finally getting you out of your top.

"Is that on your secret menu?"

"No." He chuckles. "Promise." His hands start to roam over your breasts, giving them a good squeeze while he continues to kiss you passionately— working his tongue in your mouth, sucking on your tongue in between. He tugs on your bottoms, getting you to slip out of them with ease. He feels the wet spot pooling on those thin, black panties you have on and it instantly sends blood rushing to his dick—

The fact that you two still had this affect on each other, he couldn't help himself.

You continue to kiss him roughly, passionately, as you get him out of his own clothes, tossing all the pieces of fabric to various points in the room. He slips you out of your panties, instantly rubbing his thumb against your clit. You let out a quick, muffled moan against his lips, only for Yoongi to pull back and smirk at you.

"Like that?" You nod.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Thought I could make it a little more fun." You watch as he grabs his oil and his smaller stones. "If.. that's okay with you. These were the ones I used on you earlier."

"Okay." You say, close to a whisper, gently bringing your lips back onto his. Your hands snake up his neck to get a good grip on his orange strands, tugging on them lightly as he works his way down to your neck again. He pulls away slightly, locking eyes with you before he spreads your legs wider and lets some drops of oil fall down your abdomen and onto your pussy.

He sees your breathing hitch again, but this time, he takes the stone and presses it against your clit to start massaging the oil around.

"Yoongi, fuck." You breathe out as you sit back a bit further, head tilting in pleasure.

"Can already tell how wet you are for me." He bites onto his bottom lip as he continues to work the stone and oil against your clit, free hand slipping in two fingers to pump in and out of you. If it weren't for the soft music Yoongi had playing in the background, you were sure people passing by could hear how wet you were. Because to Yoongi, all he hears is you. The way your pussy sounds when he works his digits inside, the way you let out soft moans as you sit back and let him do his work.

"Need you inside." You let out breathily as you open your eyes again and watch Yoongi damn near pierce his bottom lip with how quick he's trying to work his magic and make you cum on his fingers.

"Wanna cum for me first?" He says near the surface of your neck, lips grazing below your ear before he takes your earlobe into his mouth and gently tugs back. He works the stone faster against your clit, the pressure enough to have you reaching the edge quicker than expected even if the stone was losing its heat.

"Fuck, yeah— like that—" You whine, working your hips against his motions. "Shit, I'm gonna cum—" In a matter of seconds, you feel your high, body twitching as you finally tip over the edge and call Yoongi's name. He slowly pumps his digits in and out, helping you work through your high until he slowly removes it from inside of you. He smirks, setting the stone and oil aside before grabbing at your jaw.

"Open." You do as told, allowing Yoongi to slip in his fingers just so you could have a taste of yourself. "That's my girl." He says.

"Wanna feel you, please." You beg, watching as Yoongi strokes his rock hard cock before bringing you back closer to the edge of the table and spreading your legs wide open for him.

"I got you, baby. You know I always do. Lay back for me and relax." He says, dropping some oil down the valley of your breasts, your stomach. He takes two stones into his palms, gliding it over your chest and stomach, multitasking to add the right pressure through his hands while he takes a hardened bud into his mouth and tongues it in circular motions.

"Oh my god—" You whine, feeling him move onto the next nipple to repeat the process, his tongue gliding effortlessly over your bud. When he finally feels like he's had enough teasing you and making you beg for more, he leans back, setting his shit aside before giving your clit a good rub. He spits on to your pussy, watching it drip down to meet his cock as he slowly penetrates your entrance. Your mouth falls open, a silent moan releasing. It's been years, but you could never forget how Yoongi always made you feel so good, so fucking full and complete.

"Fuck, missed this." He huffs as he bottoms out. He stays in his position for awhile, afraid to move and release too fast, even though he knows he's on a bit of a time crunch right now. He slowly begins to thrust in and out of you, finding his rhythm after a few strokes. He's careful to make sure he doesn't make too much noise with the table, careful to place his hand over your mouth when he starts to hear you moan loudly again as he picks up his pace.

But all in all, his end goal was to make you beg for more and fuck you into oblivion.

Which, he always manages to do. He manages to do it tonight. He's fucking you so good and so deep that you're screaming his name into his palm, tears spilling over and staining your cheeks. His hand has a tight grip onto your thigh, keeping you stationary as he rocks into you— in and out, in and out.

"Baby shit, you feel so good." He moans deeply, head tilting back in pleasure for a quick moment before he's focused on you and only you. "Gonna make me cum all over you. You want that?" You nod, whimpering a quick 'mhm' into his palm once again while he continues with the momentum he has going. You tap his wrist a few times, signaling that you're about to reach your high again tonight, and he picks up on a quick.

"Cumming—" You manage to mumble.

He sees the way you grip onto his wrist.

Feels the way you're clenching around his cock.

Watches the quick way your chest rises with every breath.

It's not long before he feels you tightening around him, eyes shut as you dig your nails onto his wrist and moan loudly into his hand.

"Fuck, gonna cum with you." He groans. The sight, the feeling, is enough for Yoongi reach his high, quickly pulling out to release his seed all over the surface of your pussy.

"Holy shit." You pant, laying there as you and Yoongi try to regulate your breathing. His hands run up your sides to help soothe you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips before coming back up to grab a towel near the table.

"You okay?"

"More than okay." He chuckles.

"Let me clean you up." He says, wetting the towel and cleaning you up before helping you up from the table.

"You have like 7 minutes before your next client." He shrugs.

"It's fine, I'll clean up quick." You slip back into your own clothes.

"The stones?" You look at him and point at the table.

"Ah, yeah. I'll sanitize those but I'll probably stash them away for you." You laugh.

"Wow, I get my own set of dedicated stones, huh?"

"Probably better that way, anyway. I have extra, and Yannie can always order more for me." You shake your head.

"Thanks, by the way." You raise your wallet. "Needed this."

"Figured." He fixes his shirt and tucks it into his pants before letting out a breath and walking back towards you. "So, am I gonna see you again?" He pulls you tightly by the waist, keeping you flush against him as you look him in the eyes and smile.

"Just might." He chuckles and nods before caressing your chin and placing a warm, soft peck against your lips.

"Let me know when you get home, alright?"

"Okay. Have a good rest of your shift." You giggle before walking out and leaving him to his peace. Getting home, all you could think about was the sudden turn of events and how you were going to tell Rissa about the shit that just happened.

She'd be fucking ecstatic.

She was.

Not even gonna lie.

You had to pull the phone from your ear a couple of times even though that girl claimed she was going to keep it a minimum since she was supposedly on a team call. And to be quite honest, you liked every bit of it even though it made you flustered at times. You liked it because you finally felt like you could do this right, could do him right. You liked it because it finally felt like things had fallen into place and that the closure you thought you needed didn't have to actually come—

Because now, you and Yoongi could finally move on and move past that grey area, together.

>> 1.5 MONTHS LATER

For days, you and Yoongi had continued to see each other at the parlor, both for hot stone reasons and other reasons, before he was finally seeing you at your place and vice versa. Following those weeks and the next month or so, you had started to see each other outside of work, spending a lot of time together and spending the night at each other's homes. Everything had grown quickly, but at the same time, it only felt natural being that you and Yoongi had known each other and had been in this space before. It almost feels like you two picked up right where you left off, even though the both of you considered this to be a fresh start.

It felt amazing, real, genuine.

Like everything had fallen right into your lap just how it should have. And hell yeah, you learned your lesson from the beginning. You weren't gonna mess this up again.

"Scoot." He smiles when he sees you laying down in his bed with nothing on. You set your phone on his nightstand, gripping the sheets closer to your body when you turn and face him. He slips himself in, immediately pulling you flush against his body before brushing the hair out of your face. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." He lets out a small laugh, giving your side a light squeeze.

"Say it, baby."

"It's just kinda crazy, isn't it?"

"What?"

"This. Us?"

"It's crazy only if you make it crazy." You playfully punch him on the chest.

"Seriously." You pout and he gives in, he always gives in.

"A bit, but I wouldn't think too much of it. Guess this is how it was meant to happen."

"Never got that closure because we never needed the closure." You added.

"Are you happy, though?"

"Of course I am." He looks at you and presses a kiss against your forehead.

"I want you to let me know when you aren't, okay? The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. Doesn't matter if that means with me or not. I just want you to be honest."

"I know. But, I am." He nods.

"Okay." You lean in and kiss him on the lips just as he turns from shutting off his nightstand light.

"Sleeping already?" You mumble against his lips and he smirks.

"I mean, fuck. Yeah? Was hoping to at least get some sleep tonight." You giggle, gently grabbing at his jaw and pulling him in for another kiss.

"No fuuuun." You whine.

"What'd you have in mind then?"

"Oh, I don't know? Thought we could just stay up and talk." His breathing hitches when he feels your soft hand stroking his cock, hardening by the minute.

"S-stay up and talk, huh?" He lets out a breathy moan when he feels you pump him slowly, grabbing his tip and smearing his pre-cum all over your clit. "Aren't you tired, baby?"

"Nope. We don't have to go all the way, though." You say, slipping his cock in between your legs, enough for it to glide smoothly back and forth between your pussy lips. A low groan emits from his lips, hand gripping onto your ass to keep you close. He sucks onto your bottom lip before biting down and pulling back.

"Always make me feel so good." He whispers, feeling your wetness spread across his length. It's almost embarrassing how quick you can make him cum just by doing this but god, it felt heaven sent. Just being with you, by you, all around you, felt heaven sent.

"I could at least do my part somehow, right?" You giggle, nipping at his chiseled jawline while rocking along his length, picking up your pace at the same time. He feels your tongue swipe against the surface across his throat, making Yoongi let out a moan that has him stressing—

"B-baby, gonna make me cum—fuck—" His pants getting heavier, cock twitching underneath you. You glide slowly, feeling his tip brush up against your clit before sliding back down before picking up your pace again.

"Gonna cum with you." You whisper, feeling yourself tipping over the edge with every move you make at this point. When Yoongi finally lets himself go, it's mid-kiss and he's having to grip your waist tightly as he releases white ribbons messily all over your legs and in between. You tremble in his grip, allowing yourself to fully let go as well while he holds you close.

"That felt so good, princess." He presses a kiss against your temple, holding you close to him as you come down from your own high. He grabs a few napkins from the nightstand to clean you both up nicely before he's tossing it into the trash can and shutting his eyes when his body crashes back onto the mattress.

"Yeah it did." You throw your leg over him as you lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat slowing down. "Are you really gonna sleep?"

"Baby." He laughs. "Yes?! As much as I love you, you fucking wear me out. Sheesh." You chuckle.

"Fine."

"Goodnight. Expect me to wake you up bright and early though."

"Mhm." You tease as he kisses the top of your head. As promised, Yoongi does wake you up very bright and early for another round. And you loved these moments with him, you loved it even more now because he was yours and you were his. No more of that bullshit, that fuckbuddy-no-strings-attached-but-kinda-strings-attached grey area you both had going on for years.

It just felt right.

When the both of you split ways in the morning for work, you figured you'd visit him during his lunch just to spend more time with him [as if you didn't already]. Rissa calls you while you drive over to the parlor just as she makes her way to the airport as her work trip finally comes to an end.

Not only was Yoongi yours, but your bestfriend was finally coming home.

Yeah, shit felt right.

"You better tell him I'm coming over as soon as I reach the airport so I can tease the hell out of both of you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm so happy. Fucking finally. I get to come home. I get to spend time with my bestfriend. I get to see her happy. Maybe I'll finally find somebody to mess with at Blissful Hands, too."

"Please." You laugh. "Don't even start."

"Can't promise." She squeals. "I'm excited. I'll text you as soon as I'm on my way over, alright?"

"Oh, you were serious?"

"Yeah I fucking was, you better make room for me. Yoongi can wait." You nod.

"Alright, alright. Speaking of him, I just got here. Have a safe flight, okay? I love you."

"I love you too!" You end the call and tuck your phone into your purse before heading into the establishment.

"Goodmorning Miss Y/N." Yannie smiles at you.

"Hey!"

"He's on his lunch in the back."

"Cool, thanks." You say, heading back towards Yoongi's room. On the way over, you see his colleagues getting ready for their own clients. One smiles at you [Taehyung or was it Namjoon?] while the other mumbles to him—

"Great, gonna have to hear him fuck her brains out again." Which you catch on the way to Yoongi's, making you giggle to yourself before you greet your man and shut the door behind you.

tags: @spideyjimin @miinoongi @thebeebi @ggukkieland @bluesharksandfish @unicornbabylover @preciouschimine @codeinebelle @shesoldbutcute @jikookiekosmos @awhnamjoon @namjooningelsewhere @bunnybearrj @babycoffeefire @bri-mal @sintaethick @taejkjoons @love2luvya-blog @pb-n-juju @dianaxnyc @fan-ati--c @jungjoonie @jcsmae @favouritesblog @ppeachyttae @awseokjin @jjk1iscoming @moonchild1 @vantxx95 @genzslayer @knjeuphoria @jksjx @oogawooga222 @yoonqki @halesandy @chimchimmarie @deliciousdetectivestranger @lookhere-2seok @persphonesorchid

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kiestrokes · 8 months

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How BTS Would React to You Coming Home Drunk (and Horny) from a Night Out with Friends | NSFW

Pairing: BTS x Reader/You/Yn (some gendered + some non-gendered) Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 691ish Genre: scenario/imagine, smut, sprinklings or crack/fluff, established relationships. Warnings: mentions of drinking (consensual drunken behavior between partners), reader is wearing a dress because ease of access.

Sexually Explicit Content: penetration (penis is whatever you want to imagine: vagina/ass), cunnilingus, fellatio, nipple play, cockwarming, kissing/making out, overstiumulation, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything!

🗝️ Note: I’ll format this tomorrow. But in tradition of when this imagine was made, that’s a sober Kie problem. A repost from @/goodsoop. Edited 8/20/23 to include warnings!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here.

KSJ: would be mildly "unapproving" of your loose behavior but would fix himself a double and quickly get on your level. Until you both were drunk, loudly playing video games on the couch of the game room. This of course escalates into you attempting to cheat by climbing into his lap. You end up getting distracted by his beautiful lips and it turns into a sloppy, laughter filled fuck on the sectional. Jin boasts that he, of course, won. In the game and in getting you off.

MYG: was asleep when you drunkenly climbed into bed, laying on top of him Jung-Hoseok-spread-eagle style. Grumbles about the fact you’re going to have a hangover tomorrow. Slips out from under you and begins to remove your clothes. Batting away your wandering hands that are attempting to climb under his shirt. He leaves you passed out on top of the covers to get water and pain reliever. Returning to your sad attempt at getting yourself off. Huffs at you to let him do it, because he secretly loves how pliable and vocal you are when he gives you head this way.

JHS: is also in bed, you strip down to your panties and climb under the covers with him. He sleepily pulls you back into him, large hands drifting down your bare body. You have no trouble rousing Hoseok for drunken foreplay, he’s already hard. But he just wants a little cock warming tonight. To feel you clench around him as he plucks your nipples between nimble fingers and drifts off into the wettest dream of his life.

KNJ: was up late reading, stands up to greet you, reading glasses still on. Catches your mouth just as you tug his face to yours. The two of you clumsily fumbling with each other across the living room. He curses as he accidentally drops you onto the coffee table. But you’re unharmed and laughing, hands already reaching to tug down his sweats. Giving him a thoroughly dedicated blow job. Until he coats your throat and is moaning at you to stop.

PJM: is waiting for you in the bedroom, watching a new drama. Waiting in his boxers for the return of handsy and affectionate you. This is the only time that you’re almost as touchy with him as he is you. You don’t even take your dress off, just drop your panties at the bedroom door. Climbing onto Jimin’s lap to kiss the lips you had been thinking about since your second drink. It’s slow and intense sex that has you both crying out from overstimulation.

KTH: is mopey of course that he couldn’t go with you and the "girls". Has a bit of a wine buzz and is dancing around the kitchen to some Leon Bridges. You slip into his waltz and Tae serenades you, spinning you around the island. Until you’re pulled into a mutual kiss like two magnets, charged by the music and alcohol pulsing through your veins. He pins you against the island with his husky, low groans. Fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, and under your panties until his fingers are coated in your essence. He swallows your cries of pleasure, murmuring quiet pleas against your lips, begging for you to take him out next time.

JJK: he of course is gaming when you get home. So you slip past him, dropping your clothes along the way to catch his attention. He grumbles to his teammates in frustration, excusing himself from the game. Running to catch up with you just as you make it to the bedroom door, nude as fuck. You squeal as he spins you around and peppers wet, open mouth, kisses from your neck to the top of your knees. Before folding you across the edge of the bed, ass bare to him. Making quick, erratic work of your orgasms. Before collapsing on top of you, his t-shirt collecting the sweat that had accumulated on your back. He abandons the game to climb into bed with you, cuddling naked.

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evangelical04 · 1 month

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A Single Daffodil Masterlist

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Chapter 1 3.25.24

Chapter 2 4.1.24

Chapter 3 4.21.24

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

...

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oddinary4bts · 9 months

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Sinful Lust | Masterpost (myg & jjk)

☆summary: in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

☆status: completed

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: snippets of life!au, smut, angst

☆total word count: 71.9k

☆a/n: Yeah so. This is pure filth. And then pure angst, and more filth. And then angst with a big A. You'll hate me, and you'll love it (at least I hope so) (it does involve cheating tho so beware if cheating is a trigger to you). Thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆☆☆☆☆

➳ Teaser

➳ Chapter one: when it starts (10.4k)

I know you want it.

➳ Chapter two teaser

➳ Chapter two: when you can't resist after a dinner with friends (9.4k)

Shut up before I change my mind.

➳ Chapter three: when you establish ground rules (12.4k)

You think you deserve it?

➳ Chapter four: when Jungkook questions everything (8.6k)

And what about you and Yoongi?

➳ Chapter five: when the unforgivable happens (8.3k)

I didn't want you to be alone.

➳ Chapter six: when it breaks (12.5k)

Well, I guess this is it.

➳ Chapter seven: a year later (10.1k)

You really loved her, didn't you?

☆☆☆☆☆

All rights belong to @/oddinary4bts, 2023, 2024. Do not copy, translate or repost

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missgeniality · 2 years

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Magnetic (m)

“A light heart is a magnet for all that you love.” - St. Germain

➺ Banner: Resource credits can be found @imakeamess

➺ Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Established Relationship

➺ Genre: Smut, Slight Fluff

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 941

➺ Summary: One single piece of ornament sends the ball rolling tonight.

➺ Warnings: denied orgasms, some restraining, kissing, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl 🔪), spitting, brief nipple play, two instances of light dumbification (and hence dom!Yoongi), fingering, my go-to ending <3

➺ Cross Posted: AO3

➺ Author’s Note: Here’s a blurb of filth to ease my way into writing again! This is wholly inspired by this one Instagram post I came across, I saw a chain and did the math; Yoongi shall bear the brunt of this. Trying to find my bearings here, so if you see me give someone 9 hands just read this like a fantasy AU.🥲 Thank you for being here through everything, and please let me know what you think!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

On paper, this was a great idea.

The very off-handed sales pitch Yoongi gave you was all the more reason for you to pounce in delight, your exuberance a great pair to his nonchalance.

But goddamn it, today Yoongi played you.

“Hey there baby,” his husky, breathless voice pierces through your trance, “lookin’ kinda lost there.”

If your brain could shut down any further, it definitely ain’t coming back up. The relentless clinking of your new necklaces releases a burdensome sob from the back of your throat, one laced with equal parts of lust and despair, the build-up in your belly unravelling slowly, and the orgasms teetering in the corner receding into its chambers without comeuppance.

“Babe, come owwngghh,” your attempt at bringing him closer is foiled on sight, as Yoongi dick thrusting into your dripping pussy jolts you into forgetting how arms work. Instead, he just threads his fingers into yours, guiding your hand back under his hold, pinning them above your head like they were a few moments ago.

“Sorry love,” you can hear the evil joy in his snicker, “gotta start over.”

Even with your half-defunct senses, you feel the man bend over you, your leg over his shoulder feeling the stretch of his actions – he stills when he’s reached his intended destination. A sharp nip to your ear lobe makes all the haze disappear; and when he runs his tongue over the pricking skin, you have only the bearings to give a ragged mewl.

“You know the rules baby,” Yoongi purrs into your ear, his silky soft voice a stark contrast to your undone state; he stays lodged in the nook of your neck, adjusting up and down until he hears the click he wanted.

“I—” this was not what you imagined, when he pulled out two metal necklaces, each adorned with a magnetic half-bullet-pendant – the monochrome silver shine making for one very attractive ornament. This was not what you imagined when he pulled you close into a kiss, the magnets attaching perfectly as he licked into your mouth with unrestrained lechery. This was absolutely not what you imagined, when you yourself proposed the idea of fucking with the new jewellery on.

He’s looking into your disoriented eyes with a smile so sweet, so angelic, you almost believe he’s going to make things easier for you, partly because he lets your arms free. You’re rushing to find a spot to hold on to, to take control, to propel this tempo – but your autonomy is short-lived; a fat blob of spit lands plum on your nipple, followed by foxy, dexterous fingers working the slaver around your sensitive, perked nub.

“You did this to yourself, didn’t you,” he coos into the air as he gives your nipple a sharp tug, followed by a generous twist, driving you to arch your back towards him, “my stupid girl didn’t think through things, did she?”

You want to respond; you want to tell him it wasn’t your idea entirely. Want to tell him that the main agenda was the fucking, and the necklaces linking could be a fun side-product. Want to tell him that it’s physically impossible for you to not twitch and squirm when he’s slamming into you so good, impossible to keep the magnets connected in the face of his fucking. But when he’s back to jack-hammering your battered and denied pussy, pulling your legs over his shoulders, and whispering how empty-brained you are for him, your retorts die a hard death, and you can only nod along with the force of his thrusts.

“More, mo–more, mo—” the slow chant of your ride up starts again, aware enough to not break the necklaces’ bond – it would have very costly repercussions at this point – biting back the moan that can possibly turn into a howl because of your current state of deprivation.

The overlords seem content, because Yoongi’s momentum shows no slowing, animalistic pace that clearly projects how far he’s affected too. He fucks into you with deliberation, with unadulterated hunger, and with a final cry your orgasm hits you with a heaving force, launching a small rivulet of unintended tears. Yoongi continues to chase his own high, your grip on his dick not allowing him to last long, and he only stops when he’s emptied himself all the way through. With a heave, he falls on your body, both out of breath and possibly out of senses.

“I never fucking asked for this, you devil,” you chide the man, eliciting a small snort from him. He pushes himself up to face you, eyes glazing over the glow on your face, after which he bends to drop a small peck on your cheek.

“You sure about that?”

Trust Yoongi to turn a possibly sweet moment into a flurry of frenetic arousal. Without a warning, he drags his tongue across, up till the apple of your cheek, tasting the tears that were his doing, and your undoing. You’re absolutely certain he can feel the goosebumps prickling across your skin, the slight shudder that passes through your bones, the unevenness in your breathing as you wordlessly beg for more.

Lo and behold, your message is received.

His lips find yours once again, connecting with a bruising force, one that you return in kind. You lurch into the kiss when he fingers you once again, two digits easily penetrating your soaked core, allowing for his mess to leak out of you.

In the midst of this sensory overload, there’s one sound that you hear sharp and clear, one that makes you both smile into the kiss.

The connecting click of your necklaces.

Thank you for making it to the end! For more of my writing, find my masterlist here. As always, thoughts and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

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quinnluvsbangtan · 5 months

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MASTERLIST~

I ONLY WRITE FEM!READER

I will not write anything i am uncomfortable with, if i dont do your request please dont ask why

smut : 𖤐

fluff : ☽

angst : ᜊ

KNJ:

coming soon...

KSJ:

coming soon...

MYG:

coming soon...

JHS:

coming soon...

PJM:

coming soon...

KTH:

coming soon...

JJK:

coming soon...

#bts fanfic #knj smut #ksj smut #myg smut #jhs smut #pjm smut #kth smut #jjk smut #knj fluff #ksj fluff #myg fluff #jhs fluff #pjm fluff #kth fluff #jjk fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

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Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?

OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂

it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too ��

AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.

Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.

Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).

Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀

This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).

Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸

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

He is used to it.

But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.

Your sleep moaning, that is.

And it’s always turning him on.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.

Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.

Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.

At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.

You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.

You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.

He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly.

Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.

Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.

A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.

In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.

As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.

As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.

With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.

In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.

A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.

And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.

“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.

Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.

He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”

Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.

Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.

Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.

A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.

Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.

Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.

With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.

Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.

Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.

His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.

Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.

You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.

“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes.

Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips.

“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you.

“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.

“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.

“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.

“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers.

With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.

Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.

“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.

An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.

Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.

“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”

“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.

“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.

Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.

As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you.

Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.

Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Hmm?”

His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.

“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.

“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.

“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.

“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.

With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.

His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.

God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.

As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.

“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely.

“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion.

Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick.

It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge.

“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing.

You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.

“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”

You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”

“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily.

“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.

“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.

He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.

Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.

He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.

Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.

You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody.

He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.

“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more.

He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment.

He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.

You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.

“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.

He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”

You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.

The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.

The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.

Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.

You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.

“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot.

“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor.

You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.”

You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body.

As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman.

His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.

With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.

“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.

“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.

As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.

With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him.

You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”

With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm.

Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him.

“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.

“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits.

Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy.

“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.

“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.

“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.

“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.

“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”

You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.

Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.

“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.

“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.

And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.

“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.

“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.

“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”

“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.

“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.

“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.

“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.

“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.

Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.

“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.

A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up.

As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.

As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”

Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”

Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.

Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.

His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.

“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.

“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.

As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.

“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.

“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.”

Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.

“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.

“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.

“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.

“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.

“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.

Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.

Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.

The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.

His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”

As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.

“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.

“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.

Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.

The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.

He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.

Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”

“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”

“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.

“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.

“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.

“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.

Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.

“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons.

“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.

Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.

“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.

Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”

“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.

He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.

Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.

He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.

Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?

With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.

He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!

Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.

He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.

“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.

Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”

You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”

Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.

“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”

“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.

“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.

“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.

“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.

“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.

As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.

Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.

Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.

With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.

“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.

Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.

He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.

In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.

Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.

For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?

“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.

As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.

Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.

“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.

His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.

And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.

You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.

Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.

“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.

“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.

“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”

“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“Just relax,” Jimin adds.

“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.

“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.

When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.

“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.

“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival.

He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief.

Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.

Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”

Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.

With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.

Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.

“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.

You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.

“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.

Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”

“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.

As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.

Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.

Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.

The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.

Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.

An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.

In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.

As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.

In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.

In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.

Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.

Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.

Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.

“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.

“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.

Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.

“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.

“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.

Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.

“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.

Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.

Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.

Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.

Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.

Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.

Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”

Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.

You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.

“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.

Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.

Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.

They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.

“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.

“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.

You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”

Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.

“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.

Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.

As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.

Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”

A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.

What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨

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