carnal — sebastian sallow x fem!reader x ominis gaunt
plot summary: Challenging two renowned Aurors responsible for almost half of the imprisonment of numerous dark wizards leads to you experiencing being hunted for your life during a celebratory party at the ministry.
warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, slight plot with porn, aged up characters (silver trio are in their mid 20's), sebastian and ominis are aurors, random ocs mentioned (i just shit out names tbh), random hp shit as well not sure some of them exist in the canon lore, reader is a magizoologist in a partnership w the ministry, they hunt u down (its all roleplay), dominis, switch seb, bottom reader, she/her prns is used for reader, ominis, you and seb like pulling each others hair lmfao, oral sex, p in v sex, choking, all the nasty stuff.
notes: inspired by @/pseudonymmcwriter i love prns fics pls you should check them out if ur into detroit become human <3 minors are highly discouraged from reading. read at your own risk. pt 2 of carnal.
It was supposed to be a joke.
A jest at their occupation. You didn't mean to talk shit about their jobs as Aurors. You were merely joking around, influenced by the festivities around you. Although, you suppose you shouldn't have tried to joke around Slytherins at all. It was a celebratory party for the new head Auror, Ryona Bassett, who was praised for her leadership skills and achievements in finally capturing a dark wizard creating havoc in the wizarding world. It was due to this that she had gotten her promotion, a well-earned position on her part.
Of course, she couldn't have done it herself. As part of her plan to capture said wizard, she had formed a group of talented wizards and witches to aid her. Part of that group was you. The wise witch had apparated in front of your apartment in London, sitting on the bench like the menace that she is in hopes of recruiting you as part of her team (You had almost jumped out of your skin at the creepy sight).
It was because of your skills and experience in the field of magical creatures that led you to be recruited by Ryona Bassett. Dragons were said to be one of the weapons used in the dark wizard's plan, and well, who'd be perfect for the job other than you? As a magizoologist, your job enabled you to mostly work alone as it required intensive travel all over the world. Although you worked for the Care of the Magical Creatures department, you were more of a partner rather than an employee of the ministry. You saved Hogwarts during your 5th year, rescued the fate of the wizarding world after a dark wizard had tried yet again to sabotage the election of a new leader, and also nurtured and rescued beasts in your care.
Basically, you were a big shot, and y'know that big shots like you always get called for the important stuff, which is why you're where you are today.
Part of the said group was also none other than your two dearest friends; Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt, Aurors at the British Ministry of Magic. Sebastian and Ominis were the two people who Ryona had at her beck and call given that they did work in her division. However, these weren't the only reasons why she had chosen the two. They both had risen the ranks at a much faster rate than others ever since they joined the Auror office. This wasn't to your surprise considering the two often sneaked out in the safety of the Undercroft to practice spells out of Hogwarts' jurisdiction. Sebastian Sallow was known for his magical prowess in dueling and knowledge of the dark arts whilst Ominis Gaunt excelled more in tracking and hunting through magical traces. Despite his blindness, he had formed a unique connection to his wand, allowing him to sense and feel magic more sensitively than others. The two are quite formidable Aurors and built up a reputation as one.
They were also known to be the pair who almost filled half of Azkaban. They were that good.
It didn't help that they were also attractive. They were deemed to be the ministry's most desired bachelors of this era. You couldn't agree more.
It had been a while since the three of you were together in the same room. You kept your friendship low maintenance and would send an owl to each other here and there. To be honest, the low-maintenance friendship was more of you and them, but we don't need the specifics. After a long month of trying to catch Hugo Blaire (the dark wizard, yes), it wasn't a huge surprise that a party would be done in honor of the group's efforts and contribution to making another safe and sound day for the wizarding world.
You don't know how many glasses of champagne you had downed in the past hour, but you sure as hell won't be counting. You've been scanning the crowd, looking for a particular brunette and blonde amongst a sea of unfamiliar people.
It was tiring trying to keep up with the greetings and the conversations. You probably mispronounced multiple last names at this point, and you couldn't care any less at how many eye twitches and failed to keep horrified expressions you've seen in the past hour. Your assistant, Judy Beckham, decided to be your spokesperson at the start as she noticed that the glass on your hand seemed to have no plans leaving your grasp. It was funny seeing her play as your publicist as you had yet again purposefully mispronounced "Yaxley" to "Yackley? Yatley? Yale? Shitley?" (It was well deserved, to be honest. He was on your shitlist after he had tried to order your imprisonment when you were trying to rescue a Zouwu who had wreaked havoc in the streets of London. He claimed you were the one responsible for the mess... Which was partially true... But not all of it!)
"And that should be your final drink." A voice interrupted your thoughts before a hand grabbed the refillable glass in your hand, moving it away from your grasp. The scent of musk and wood immediately infiltrated your senses as your back feels the presence of another. You turn to face the culprit, smiling at him.
"Sebastian." You softly reply as you place a hand on his arm. "I was looking for you."
"As have I, darling." He chuckles before glancing at the glass in his hand, watching as it filled back up with champagne. "Though it seems you've already started to enjoy yourself."
"Refillable charms are a crime." You softly laugh in response. The Auror has a soft look on his face. You glance back at the center of the ball where Ryona stood alongside the rest of the crew, entertaining guests. "Aren't you supposed to be there?"
"You mean we?" He corrects as he places a hand on your waist. You feel butterflies in your stomach. You push it away.
"... Right."
"Where's the little redhead you're with?" Sebastian doesn't need to crane his head to survey the room. He was a tall motherfucker who was gifted with the lucky genes. You didn't know how much a person could grow knowing that he was the same height as you in your fifth year, then you were at his shoulder in your 7th. He was tall and attractive. A direct shit to your face.
"You mean Judy?" You raise an eyebrow at him despite mentioning her multiple times in your letters. He smiles a boyish grin at you.
"I saw her a moment ago trying to calm down August Yaxley from transfiguring you then and there. What'd you do this time?" You feel his thumb rubbing the material of your dress on your waist. His stare was unwavering as he encouraged a response out of you.
"Mispronounced his name. It was quite funny seeing the number of expressions running through his face. Quite a life-changing experience, if I do say so myself. As for Judy, she just gave up on me. She's probably drinking herself to death somewhere." You jest. He chuckles at your response before pulling his hand away from your waist. It almost made you whine at the loss, but you remember this is your best friend, and you shouldn't be whining like a submissive bitch in heat at the loss of his touch. "Where's Ominis?"
"Ah." He places the glass on the waiter's tray as one passes by before crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so attractive in his black three-piece suit with a silver chain hanging on his vest. It didn't help with the way the material of his coat stretched along his arms, fitting his physique perfectly. You wanted to drool. "He'll be here in a minute."
"That sounds oddly vague." You rest your weight on one leg as you copy his form. "What's he really doing?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes before raising his arms in defense. "You got me. He's finishing writing up and collecting final intel on another case."
"That quick? Damn." Your eyes widen in amusement.
"Remember that church we went to last week? A couple of days before Blaire's capture? The one in Glasgow." He recalls. You hum, remembering the place. "Turns out, there were other traces of dark magic there different from Blaire's lot. It was an infamous place for dark wizards to gather, and we were lucky enough to be able to hit two birds with one stone. Ominis was able to decipher the similarities of that dark magic to the ones he received from that hacienda back in the Philippines."
"That's amazing." You marvel at Ominis's tracking skills.
"I know. Bassett put us on the case right after this." Sebastian sighs. "Not sure if that's a blessing or a curse."
"Just shows how talented you guys are." You bite your lip as you pat his arm. Sebastian shakes his head.
"You had a hand in this, too." He gives you a pointed look. "If it weren't for our daring escapades, I wouldn't be where I am today."
"Yeah, right. If I recall correctly, you were the mastermind of it all."
"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't witness your magical prowess in ancient magic, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts." He leans in, pinching your cheek as he teases you. You flush in embarrassment at the title, trying to forget after years of hearing it multiple times to the point where all you wanted to do is obliviate the whole damn school. Wasn't it so hard to just say you saved the school? Why'd they have to press in the title 'Hero'? Thankfully, Sebastian's proximity made you forget an incoming war flashback of your time at Hogwarts. You would've died from cringe there and then.
"You two look cozy with each other. If I were from Daily Prophet, I'd already made millions from using this as gossip material." A new presence has arrived, startling you two out of your comfortable conversation. Sebastian sighs dramatically at his entrance.
"Ominis. You're late." Sebastian chastises jokingly as he watches his best friend glare in the direction of his voice. You might've laughed at Sebastian trying to act like a disappointed mother, but you were taking your time checking out the new addition to your little group. Similar to Sebastian, Ominis had also experienced a growth spurt. Nearly at the same height as the brunette beside you, the man embodies the essence of elegance and gallantry. His hair is in his usual slicked-back hairdo and wearing a dark blue three-piece set that matched his cloudy blue eyes. Ominis adjusts the tie on his neck with his free hand before moving close to you two with the guide of his wand.
"Thanks, Sebastian, for the obvious observation." He sarcastically replies before feeling for your hand and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Hello, love."
"You two practicing on your courting game or something?" You joke as you watch Ominis put down your hand gently. Sebastian tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he moves close to stand behind you. "I feel so flattered."
"It's just the bare minimum, dove." Sebastian leans in to whisper against your ear. He laughs softly as you move back, tickled by his breath. Ominis wasn't able to hear what the other Auror said and could only sigh in exasperation at Sebastian's antics.
"I heard you were finishing an intel report on a new case, Ominis." You change the subject as you rest your hand on his arm. Ominis places a hand on top of yours.
"Yes. Did Sebastian mess up again?" He turns to the direction of your voice with an accusing tone. "Don't answer. Of course he did."
"Hey! That's unfair of you to assume." Sebastian pouts.
"Am I wrong?" Ominis raises his eyebrow. Sebastian falls silent. "Thought so."
"Shut up."
"I am quite curious, though, did you ever have an instance that you weren't able to track someone?" You ask out of curiosity as your arm intertwines with Ominis's. You glance between the two as they pause to think. These two were deemed the best in the industry. Surely, the praises were exaggerated, right? You had a hard time tracking poacher locations, and you already had possession of ancient magic. Being the best doesn't entail 100% success.
"Nah." Sebastian answers nonchalantly. Ominis nods in agreement. "Sure, some took more time than others but everything's trackable."
You pause for a moment at their answers. "Really?"
"Yes. Everyone leaves tracks of magic every day. It's quite easy to decipher once you're used to it." Ominis adds, trying to convince you further. You hum, still unconvinced by their claims. Sebastian turns to you, looking at you with an unwavering stare. You tried to look back, but you could only glance away, not able to return it.
There's a moment of silence before the brunette breaks it off.
"You don't believe us, do you?" Sebastian says with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised in amusement. Ominis has an unreadable look on his face. You feel like you've offended them both with the way Sebastian's staring at you and Ominis's tense body.
"Well— I mean, surely not all right?" You sheepishly smile at him. Sebastian scoffs at you.
"I assure you, Y/N. When I track something, I get it done." Ominis turns his body towards you, causing your arm to fall from his. You look between the two as they continue to look at you with unreadable looks. You feel as though you've suddenly been cornered. Like you've done something worthy of their attention as Aurors and not as Sebastian and Ominis. This shouldn't excite you, but it did, and so you stupidly continued your plan on pissing them off.
Slytherins are known for one thing, and that's their drive for ambition and winning in competitive environments. What more to entertain yourself by pissing off not one but two snakes?
"Bullshit." You've resorted to using harsh methods. You could see the way Ominis's eye twitched and Sebastian's sudden change of posture. You were glad you met those boring guests back then, it certainly helped maintain a straight face. "Not even once?"
"Y/N." Sebastian takes a step close. "We're not kidding."
"Sure you are." You let out a giggle as you move a step back, trying to gauge their reactions. Ominis steps close to Sebastian's side as he clenches his jaw. This is fun.
Now, this is where the actual problem starts. You were having way too much fun trying to get a rise out of them that the words spewing out of your mouth were thought half-assed. You were joking but they we're taking it seriously.
"I'd bet my whole fucking body you won't be able to catch me. Even Bassett has a hard time getting me these days. What more of a challenge than a magizoologist to track, hm?" You laughed.
Bad move.
Bad fucking move, because all of a sudden, you could feel the tenacity of their stare. Even Ominis seemed like at that specific moment could see you and stare straight into your soul. You felt your body go rigid with nervousness.
The silence was long and uncomfortable. Both of them stood there, postures domineering and authoritative. You felt scared but at the same time, excited. You decided to make the first move.
"Guys?"
Sebastian licks his lips as he looks at Ominis before leaning close to his ear and whispering. The other Auror blinks slowly as he listens to him before nodding. Sebastian moves forward first.
"What's the bet again?" Sebastian smugly asks. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
"I'm afraid I'm not following—"
"You said you'd bet your whole body, right?" He reminds you. Your eyes widen in response.
"I wasn't serious about it." You try to reason with them.
"We weren't joking in the first place. You know we've always liked you. Why not take advantage of a little opportunity, hm?" Sebastian says with a low voice as he raises a hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with eyes that seemed to mock you. You felt slightly ashamed but tried to keep your confidence afloat.
It was common knowledge that the two best friends pined after you. Ever since your 5th year, the two had fallen irrevocably in love with everything about you. You knew. They knew you knew and yet a silent pact was made between the two to never make a move on you as they didn't know how you felt and didn't deem it worthy as the fall of their friendship. You were glad somehow but also saddened because you never really chose between them. You liked them both. But they didn't need to know that. Right?
Well, it seems as if they're testing you right now, and with the amount of alcohol in your system combined with their dark looks trained on you, you wouldn't be surprised if you did admit your attraction to both of your best friends.
"Aw, are you scared?" Sebastian taunts. Ominis only stands behind him, posture calm and collected as he listens to his partner speak for him.
"Shut the fuck up." You reply in a weak voice, feeling intimidated by their aura. Ominis lets out a soft laugh. "I was joking about it in the first place—"
"Ah, ah." Sebastian grasps your chin in his hand, turning your face towards him. "You said it first. We're just finishing the job."
You let out a shaky breath as they continue to move closer and into your space. Sebastian's thumb caresses your bottom lip as he stares at you with want and desire.
"Let's be clear here, darling. The only reason why Bassett can't properly find you is that it's her that's finding you." Sebastian mumbles lowly. You could feel the grip on your chin tightening. Your knees tremble at his domineering hold on your face as your core begins to burn with arousal. "You've never had us."
Shit.
It's Ominis that sets the final nail in the coffin. He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Ryona's going to give a final speech in the next few minutes."
A hand slithers across the small of your back before grabbing your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small moan at the harsh movement before the lips against your ear continue to move. "We're going to give you 30 seconds to move. You got that, sweetheart?"
A soft kiss placed on both sides of your neck makes you whimper as both of them pull away from you. You watch as Sebastian casts a final look at you before both of them disappear into the crowd. You stand with knees weak and mind in shambles as you hear the crowd cheer at Ryona's entrance. She waves into the crowd and suddenly you're face with an existential crisis.
We're you suppose to move during? Or after? Did you have to hide? Fuck, did the 30 seconds already start? You couldn't grasp a single thing in your mind as your eyes tried to find the familiar backs of the two. It seemed all the eerier that you didn't know where they were. It was like a predator hiding and waiting for the perfect chance to pounce. So as the submissive prey that you are, you began to move.
You squeezed your way through heaps of people. Ryona's speech was already considered background noise for you. You had reached the east entrance, sighing in relief before a pair of hands stop you from reaching freedom. You could almost feel your heart drop before exhaling a big breath at the sight of your assistant, Judy Beckham.
"Where were you? I was looking everywhere for you!" Judy worries like the inner mother that she is. You could almost coo at her concern over your well-being but the thought of two Aurors after your ass was more pressing than the worried redhead in front of you.
"Listen, Judy. If ever you come across Sebastian and Ominis, tell them I went to the west side of the building." You smile widely as you hold her arms tight within your grasp. Judy raises her eyebrow in confusion.
"Y/N, you're not making sense—"
"Please!" You plead as you pull her closer to your face. The girl cranes her head back at the proximity. "I'm in grave danger if those two ever find me. Be a gal and lie, okay?"
Judy stares at you for a few seconds before sighing. "West. Got it."
"Thank you!" You grab her for a quick hug before bolting through the doors. Your heels clack noisily on the marble floor as you rushed through the partially empty corridors of the ministry. You pass by familiar faces who you kindly shoot a smile at.
"Fucking heels—" You groan as you reach for the devil traps on your feet, pulling them off and continuing your escape barefoot. You manage to reach the hallway to the elevator before a voice causes you to pause and crouch down to hide.
"Y/N." Ominis's tender voice echoes throughout the empty corridor. You hide in a corner as you watch his figure pass by the elevator. Great, the easiest way out was already guarded. You should've thought that ahead. "I know you're here."
You remain silent as you watch Ominis pace back and forth slowly, face looking calm and collected. You assess your surroundings, looking for a way to escape.
"Do you want to know why I know you're here?" Ominis asks which catches your attention. You check behind you to ensure that no Sebastian was sneaking up on you to catch you off guard. You wait for him to reply. "You've always had a particular magical aura. I sensed a glimpse of it when you entered the doors of the Great Hall in our 5th year, then it grew bigger and stronger when I saw you exit the Undercroft. Magical auras tend to vary according to a wizard or witch's personality and most of them feel loud and ... unnerving. You, however, shine like sunlight on a sunny day. A gentle breeze at the start of autumn."
Your breath hitched as you hear his footsteps halt. You feel your cheeks heat up at his declaration, you bite your lip as you wait to hear more. "I felt attached to you because of it. Like a moth to a flame. Do you think spending years by your side that I haven't got your aura ingrained in my head? I suppose that's what I get for falling for you."
Fuck. You don't know where he went. It seems as if one moment you knew he was there and then the next he was gone. You peek into the hallway, glancing back and forth.
You knew you shouldn't have let your guard down. You knew that you were faced with someone who was so used to tracking and feeling magic differently and more sensitively than others that it became an extra sense to them. You feel his breath before his touch.
"It's the very reason why I sense you right away. You're leaking your tracks everywhere, love." He speaks lowly against your ear. With a harsh shove and a twist of your arm to your back, he pushes you against the wall with your front against the hard surface.
"O-Ominis, wait!—" You try to plead but the Auror only presses you more against the wall. He had your arm twisted against your back with a hold of your wrist. His chest pressed against yours and his face on the side of your neck.
"That fast?" He mocks you as he laughs closely against your ear. You try to push back against his grip but you remain defenseless.
"Fuck you."
"You wish." He mumbles lowly in your ear. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent before placing possessive kisses against it. You let out sighs of pleasure before groaning in pain as Ominis grabs your head by your hair and angles it for more room on your neck.
"Let me go." You breathlessly beg as you allow him to pepper kisses against your neck. You wish to stay there and then but you knew that the boys wanted a bit more fun. After all, you wanted to get the most out of this once-in-a-lifetime situation.
"Now, why would I do that?" Ominis bites your ear lobe as he grinds his hips against your ass. You try to turn your head towards him.
"Cause you love a good chase, right? This barely counts as one." You tempt him, grinding back against his moving hips. He lets out an amused laugh, letting go of your wrist as he encloses his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against him. You bask in his presence, head falling back on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side, placing more kisses on your neck before biting on your shoulder. You let out a soft moan.
"I'm giving you another 15 seconds. Run as fast as you can." He whispers in your ear before sensually moving his arms off your waist. He takes 5 steps back before motioning the empty corridor with a nudge of his hand. You lick your lips before running away from him.
Ominis tilts his head back as he pants from the arousal, running his fingers through his neatly styled hair before a voice enters his mind.
"Are you on your way?" Sebastian asks. Ominis rolls his eyes before fixing his coat. Sebastian often flexed his magical abilities, especially this one he had learned recently. The ability to communicate through the mind. His best friend was a natural student of magic, curious to the wizarding world and desperate in learning all of it as he is a son to two former educators. This was also what made him a pain in the ass.
"I let her go. She's on her way to you." He replies as he takes his time following your trail. He's sure if he made a run for it now, he'd get you in no time. But he decides to play by your rules.
"Fucker. Did you get a taste?" He hears Sebastian chuckle through their shared mind connection.
"Get the fuck out of my head before I get her myself."
"You're hot when you're angry, y'know?" Sebastian purrs. Ominis grunts at his flirt. "Got it, sir."
You don't know how long you've run. Most of the ministry departments were empty due to the large celebration on one of the building's halls. Everyone was there and the only creatures patrolling the halls were Matagots. They were formidable creatures who easily sensed intruders so if there was a breach in security, a single spell cast on a Matagot would immediately alert all of you. You've decided to stop at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as you deduced that Sebastian would probably be on standby in front of the elevator when it reached the ground level. At least here, you were close to the ground floor and there's a passageway that leads you down to the ground floor discreetly (you'd have to thank Hank, the house elf in charge of the elevator for that one).
Also because you've chosen this floor, consequently you knew you were on the floor where the Auror office is located. Which means, Sebastian and Ominis's floor. This is probably the least floor to logically be on but you probably (emphasis on probably) knew that they wouldn't check here. The passageway was located at the Head Auror's office and so you just need to sneak your way in and easily escape.
Unfortunately, Merlin was being a bitch.
As soon as you opened the entrance to the Auror division, you gasp quietly at Sebastian leaning against the doors to the Head Auror's office, twirling his wand elegantly between his fingers.
"Fancy seeing you here." Sebastian smiles so innocently. You stand on alert as he moves away from the double doors and towards you with careful steps.
"How'd you know?" You ask as you take steps back with every step forward from the man in front of you. Sebastian shrugs.
"When you're well versed with the dark arts, it's quite easy to detect certain things." Sebastian hums. "Or maybe it's just basic logic. After all, you have to think ahead of your opponent."
You continue to take a step back before your back meets a surface that wasn't originally there. You turn around to see the very same man who had given you a moment of mercy.
"Again?" Ominis smiles with pity, pretending to have no clue as to why he found you yet again. You let out a loud gasp before rushing to the one side of the room to move away from them both. The two stalk toward you like predators. You could feel your breath shortening with nervousness as they cornered you to a wall. You had no way out. You discreetly glance around you before seeing an opening to the Head Auror's office. In a moment of panic and sheer bravery, you bolt down towards the double doors leading to your escape, trying to get one last chance to run away.
Sebastian snarls as he runs after you. Ominis stands behind, arms behind his back as he lets his partner handle the work. You could feel the fast thumps of his foot against carpeted floor as your hands try to open the overly complicated entrance. You clumsily open the door before a set of strong arms grab your waist and pull you away from your only chance of escaping. You scream in retaliation before a hand covers your mouth.
"Bad, bad girl." Sebastian huffs as he presses you against his chest, hand on your mouth as he watches you fight back in his grasp. His hands then move to reposition themselves. One hand wraps around your waist while the other grabs your neck and grips it back to lay your head back against his shoulder. "Should I cast Oscausi on you for being so fucking loud, hm?"
"Sebastian." Ominis calls his attention before nodding to one of the open and empty offices. He moves towards the two of you as Sebastian pulls you to the empty roomwith Ominis locking the door behind him. "Stop scaring her."
"Do you think she looks scared?" Sebastian raises his eyebrow as he settles on a desk, pulling you to his lap. You shake, riddled with sensitivity as Sebastian continues to grip your neck. Ominis raises his hands, gliding up your arms before feeling Sebastian's hold on your neck and then moving up to your face. He feels the heat from your cheeks, the dryness of your lips and hears the soft little gasps and moans escaping your mouth. You were aroused and completely at their mercy. Ominis smiles as he runs his thumb against your bottom lip before leaning in close.
"We won, little dove. Are you ready?" He gently asks. Sebastian gently eases on his grip but remains his hold on your neck. You look up at Ominis and softly brush your lips against his.
"Just fuck me already." You pant, blunt with your response as the two fall into silence.
"Fuck." Ominis curses before surging in to press his lips against yours. Sebastian almost falls back at the sudden pressure but recollects himself as he busies with kissing your neck.
Hands begin to grope at your body. Sebastian's hands gripped your waist as he moved his hips up against yours, his bulge rubbing against your heat. Ominis cups the nape of your neck to angle you for a deeper kiss. You open your mouth, allowing the blonde to intertwine his tongue with yours.
"You're so fucking pretty," Sebastian mumbles shakily as he continues to place more marks on your neck, taking advantage of a sweet spot as you moan in surprise. "She's so fucking beautiful, Ominis."
"Yeah?" Ominis responds breathlessly as he pulls away for a moment before diving in for more. "Of course, she is."
Your hands find their way into their respective hairs. Gripping the roots tightly as you pull them closer to you. The two groan in pleasure. The three of you continue to make out before Ominis pulls you back with a tug on your hair.
"On your knees, baby." He licks his lips, savoring your taste on his lips. "Suck Sebastian off."
You pant as you look back at the brunette behind you who looks at you two with lust in his eyes. Sebastian smiles smugly. "You heard the man."
You giggle before rising from his lap, placing a chaste kiss on Sebastian's lips before kneeling in between his legs. Ominis moves to your left as you unbuckle his slacks before pulling down to expose his member, watching as it slapped heavily in between his thighs. Taking his cock in your hands, you gather your drool in your tongue before dripping it down your mouth as a form of lubricant. You perform swift up-and-down motions to start it off.
"Fuck, that's it." Sebastian moans as he runs his hands through your disheveled hair. Ominis listens to his moans before feeling his way up Sebastian's shoulder and finding it's way into his curls. He grips his hair and crane his head towards him. Sebastian moans loudly at Ominis's hold on him.
"Tell me what she looks like," Ominis whispers into his ear as he places wet kisses on his jaw before biting his earlobe. He then harshly pushes his head down towards you which gives you a signal to start using your mouth on him. You lean down to take his cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as you use your hands to take what you can't fit in.
Sebastian chokes his moan as he feels Ominis's grip on his head become tighter. "S-She's taking it all in. Like a good fucking girl."
Ominis hums at his response. You look up towards Sebastian innocently as you pull slightly back, sucking on his tip before you twirl your tongue around it like a lollipop.
"F-fuck— Ah. She— She looks so perfect with my cock in her— A-ah! I-In her mouth. Look's so fucking pretty— Merlin's beard." Sebastian stumbles over his words as you bob your head faster. Ominis smirks against Sebastian's cheek before he speaks parseltongue into the brunette's ear. You feel the shiver and twitch of Sebastian's hips as his face becomes flushed red at Ominis's hypnotic speaking of the language of snakes.
It seems as if Sebastian enjoyed it too much as a hand wraps itself around his neck, gripping it tight as Ominis continues to speak in tongues to his ear. Sebastian whimpers, eyes rolling back before the blonde moves his grip on his neck to his jaw to pull him into a deep kiss.
You moan at the sight of the two making out, encouraging you to give the best fucking head Sebastian Sallow has ever fucking had in his life. With a twist of your hand and fast bobs of your head, Sebastian archs his back in sensitivity, breaking away from his kiss with Ominis. His body curls as he grips your hair, pulling you away from his dick.
"F-fuck wait." Sebastian whines as he pants, not handling the intense pleasure from your mouth on his dick and Ominis's mouth on his, especially the fucking parseltongue. He almost came in your mouth if it weren't for his swift reaction. You twist your hand over his tip to tease him. He then transfers his hand from your hair to your neck, gripping it firmly. "I said wait. Can't follow simple fucking instructions. Get up."
You whimper as Sebastian pulls you up from the floor through the grip on your neck before moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to carry up you and wrap them against his waist. He settles you down on the desk before pushing you back to lie down on it. Ominis moves to the other side of the desk where your head is placed. The two make haste on pulling your clothes off of you, leaving you bare and naked on the wooden surface.
"Fucking gorgeous," Sebastian mutters under his breath as he runs his hands on your thighs before pulling them apart to stare at your pussy. Ominis runs his hands on your chest, groping your breasts into his hands. The blonde groans at the feeling of your body within his grasp. He remembers dreaming of this very moment and it's now within the palms of his hands (literally).
Sebastian pushes your thighs up against your chest and you whine in embarrassment at the exposing position. Sebastian chuckles at your sudden shy behavior. "Don't worry, it'll pass. I'll make sure of it."
You could barely process Ominis's groping on your upper body before you feel Sebastian's tongue on your cunt. You gasp at the sudden feeling which makes Ominis smile.
"Sebastian, wait—"
"I told you to wait awhile ago, why would I do that?" Sebastian retorts before diving in and devouring your pussy like a man finally quenching his thirst. His tongue licks back and forth on your clit before sucking it. He then presses the flat of his tongue, moving it up and down before using the tip and move in circular motions. He slurps the juices dripping out of your pussy, moaning at the taste. The vibration of his moan causes you to moan loudly in pleasure.
"Sebastian— Oh fuck! fuck.. fuck!" You pant as you grip Ominis's arms, taking what Sebastian's giving. "Don't stop, please please please please!"
"Yeah?" Ominis leans down to caress your face, feeling the tears drip down the side of your face. "Little dove crying because you feel too good, hm? Poor girl."
You sob as Sebastian continues to assault your pussy with his tongue. Pleasure courses through your veins as the brunette between your legs manhandle you into the position he desires. Ominis basks in the sounds of your moans and the wet and messy slurps of Sebastian's work. His cock twitches against his pants. He eases the pain by using his free hand to rub against the front of his slacks. You look up at Ominis who continues to caress your face. "Ominis..."
"Hm?"
"Kiss me." You whine softly as you feel a knot slowly build up in your stomach. Sebastian continues to eat you up and a building pressure reveals itself in the process. Ominis smiles at you before leaning to place a kiss on your lips, upside down. He swallows your moans of pleasure as he pushes in his tongue, slowly and passionately kissing you deeply.
Sebastian glances up from his position, furrowing his eyebrows at the loss of your pathetic moaning. He smirks as he sees you focused on kissing Ominis before deciding to take matters into his own hands. He moves up to your clit, focusing the attention of his tongue there before adding the usage of his hand, gently rubbing the entrance of your cunt. You gasp at the sensation before yelping at the insertion of a finger inside.
"Ah!" You pull away from Ominis in the process as Sebastian eases his fingers into you. The brunette glances at the blonde with a smirk and a light chuckle. Ominis definitely heard that.
"Feel good, pretty girl?" Sebastian hums against the side of your thigh as he watches his finger go in and out of you before adding another one. You let out a measly moan in response. "I need to hear an answer."
"M-Mhm." You moaned out as he begins to curl his fingers up, pushing it deep within you. Sebastian pushes back against your clit, sucking it and licking it well for you. The sensation of his tongue and fingers begin to bring you closer to the edge. "Oh, fuck."
"Close?" Ominis whispers as he leans down against your ear. You let out short breaths as you feel the knot slowly unravel. Sebastian enters another finger as he speeds up the process. His fingers begin to reach depths even yours couldn't reach. It felt so fucking good as the tips of his fingers brush against a sensitive spot within you that jolts your back into an arch. It was there yet it wasn't. Sebastian's tongue flicks and sucks faster against your clit as you descend rapidly into the madness.
"Let me cum, please. please." You whined as your hand reaches up to intertwine with Ominis's locks. The blonde torments you from above as he sucks marks alongside Sebastian's work during his time on your neck from awhile ago.
"Go ahead, pretty girl," Ominis whispers in your ear alongside Sebastian's ministrations. The knot unravels fast as your body shakes violently in their care. Your orgasm is hard and slow as Sebastian does his best to lengthen it, your thighs crushing his head close against your heat. You let out long and loud moans as your body rises from the desk in the process. Ominis grabs you against his chest, kissing the side of your head softly as Sebastian continues his assault between your thighs, making sure to slurp every last bit of your release. "There you go."
"Stop, stop!" You reach a hand down, trying to push his face away from your heat. You let out a small laugh from the sensitivity as he continues to mouth your cunt.
"Tastes so fucking good," Sebastian growls as he pulls away, lips red and chin dripping with your arousal. He places a gentle kiss on your clit as you twitch in sensitivity at the action before kissing his way upwards and pulling you into a deep kiss. Your tongues intertwine as your back rests against Ominis's chest. The blonde's hand runs through Sebastian's locks, gently petting his head as the two of you kiss. His free hand moves to where your lips are connected, probing his index finger within your tongue as he tries to feel you two kiss. Ominis lets out a shaky sigh at the feel of your tongues moving against one another before you two pull away.
The brunette looks up at you with a smile. "How'd you want us?"
You take a breath as Sebastian places a chaste kiss on your cheek while Ominis places one on the side of your head. "Ominis inside. You get my mouth. He's been on the sidelines for way too long."
Sebastian nods with a cheeky grin. "Got no complaints there."
Ominis places a kiss on your forehead as he helps you up before exchanging places with Sebastian. The brunette sits on the desk as you stand between them with Ominis behind you. You hear the rustling of clothes behind you before turning around to look. Ominis had taken off his coat and bottoms, leaving him bare from the waist down. His cock slaps heavily up against his stomach, dripping pre-cum from the amount of waiting he had done. Throughout your sexual escapade, Ominis opted to listen in on your and Sebastian's pleasure than himself. He was more of a observer, preferred ordering the two of you and revel in the moans and pants pulled by pleasure. You take a note to spoil him further in the future.
He pulls you back against his chest as he moves close to you and Sebastian. The brunette cups your cheek, placing a peck on your lips before he travels his hand to the top of your head and pushing you down gently to his cock. You eagerly use your mouth to pleasure him, slipping it inside and try to take him all in.
"Damn, fuck. Can never get used to this. Your mouth is a fucking haven, baby." Sebastian curses as he feels the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You choke slightly at the deepness of his dick before bobbing up and then down, forming a rhythm. The brunette tilts his head back in pleasure, letting out soft moans as his fingers tighten within your locks. Ominis listens in on his moans as he uses his wand to conjure a lubricating charm before pumping his dick for a bit of stimulation. He lets out a moan before pressing the his cock against your folds.
You moan at the feeling of a new sensation against your heat. Ominis places a hand on his shaft, rubbing the tip against your folds. He slides it against your clit, moving it in circular motions and hears your appreciative moan. His free hand then grabs your waist as leverage before finally positioning the tip against your entrance. "I'm pushing in, love."
You hum against Sebastian's dick in response before feeling the pressure of Ominis's cock split you open. He was a bit longer than Sebastian but the brunette was thicker. The two were already considered big and the moment that you felt the two of them inside you made you all the more conscious of their size. You whimper against Sebastian's cock, unable to move as Ominis continues to slide in his cock.
Sebastian glances down at your tear-stricken face, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Ominis bottoms out with a groan, letting you adjust for a moment before beginning to move. The jostle of Ominis's hips propels your forward causing Sebastian's dick to go deeper inside your mouth.
"Yeah. Liked getting fucked by Ominis?" Sebastian taunts as he brushes your hair away from your face. A bruising grip on your hips that you're sure will mark you in the morning, pulls you back with every thrust. Ominis's cock reaches depths farther than Sebastian's fingers, the curve of his dick and the ridges alongside it brushes deliciously against the soft walls of your pussy.
You moan in response as Sebastian begins to move his hips, thrusting into your mouth. You choke as you feel his throat touch the back of your throat once again.
"Support her upper body." Ominis orders. Sebastian places a hand on your shoulders as Ominis grabs both of your hands, twisting them against your lower back, holding them both with one hand as he suspends your upper body in the air with Sebastian's help. The position allows you to be completely at their mercy as Sebastian fucks your mouth at this point and Ominis's thrusts go deeper, faster and harsher.
You can only shriek and moan against Sebastian's cock as you take what they give you. Sebastian feels his release fast approaching, hips stuttering. "Holy fuck, I'm close."
You allow him to use your mouth as he pleases, thrusting fast into your mouth as he moans loudly at the process. Ominis leans down, placing a kiss on your shoulder before growling in your ear. "Don't waste a single fucking drop."
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and it seems as if Sebastian also heard it. The brunette releases with a choked moan, spurting his release into your mouth. He moans as his hips jerk in sensitivity, emptying it all before slumping on the desk. You swallow it all before coughing, finally being able to breathe.
Ominis takes this as an opportunity to fuck you harder.
"O-Ominis!" Your voice raises in pitch as his hips hammer against yours. He releases your arms, opting to pull you up against his chest. His hands busy themselves with your breasts as he grunts into the crook of your neck. "O-Oh fuck. Right there."
Sebastian smiles lazily as he watches his best friend rail you to the point that your eyes roll back in pleasure. To give you a more pleasurable experience, he raises a hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, gripping it with enough pressure to hear you whine and moan.
"Yeah, that's fucking right baby. Sebastian's choking you again? You love that shit." Ominis growls against your ear as he pounds your tight pussy. He angles his hips to hit that spot that Sebastian grazed over with his fingers, pulling louder moans from you. Your eyes lock with Sebastian's as Ominis fucks you from behind.
"Pretty girl's crying because you're fucking her too good." Sebastian laughs as he leans forward to kiss your tears away. Ominis chuckles against your neck. You could feel your release fast approaching as a hand makes it's way down to where you're connected.
"Mm, stretched so fucking well for me." Ominis hums before moving to your clit and circling it fast deliciously. Your moans get louder.
"Ominis, Sebastian!" You whine as you feel your release fast approaching. Sebastian tightens his grip on your throat making your moans choked as Ominis fucks you faster and deeper.
Already feeling the edge of his release, Ominis rubs faster as his hips stutter. His pace becomes harder and harsher. "Cum baby. Cum."
You let out a high-pitched whine before finally reaching your climax. Your knees shake, almost giving you up before Ominis grips you up, supporting you against his chest. You let out loud moans as your orgasm wreaks havoc throughout your body in violent shakes. Tears stream down your face at the intensity of your release and Sebastian smiles at the beauty of it all. Ominis continues to pump his cock inside, reaching for his release. "Where?"
"Inside. I-I'm on the potion. Please, cum inside." You moan as you lock eyes once again with Sebastian, his grip loosening from your neck as he pulls you into a kiss. Ominis grunts before releasing inside. He moans loudly, bottoming out as he orgasms. "Good girl."
You rest your upper body in Sebastian's embrace, waiting for Ominis to finish before whimpering as the blonde pulls out. Ominis runs a hand down to your cunt before pushing the cum back in. Sebastian chuckles as he hears you let out another weak moan.
There's a moment of comfortable silence as you three catch you breath from the amount of strenuous activities you've done in the past few hours.
"Damn, that was probably the best sex of my life." Sebastian chuckles, breaking the silence as he pulls you fully into his embrace. You rest your head on the crook of his neck while Ominis runs a hand through his hair.
"I'm so tired." You groan in exhaustion. "I'm not moving a single fucking muscle. This is both of your fault."
"Me too? It's Ominis who you should be blaming. The man was railing you to fucking oblivion." Sebastian jests which receives a harsh smack on the back of his head. You chuckle at the crisp sound of Ominis's palm hitting Sebastian's head.
"You literally fucked my throat. Sore throats are a bitch to cure." You weakly pull away from Sebastian's embrace, feeling the ache on your ass. Ominis notices your discomfort from your grunts of pain.
"Did I go too far?" The blonde shyly asks. You turn to look at him with a soft smile. You had the hardest and best fucking orgasm of your life and now this man was acting all shy and cute after he had just practically destroyed any other chance of another person reaching that kind of level with you. You couldn't really blame him after he had just ascended you to a different realm with his dick. Sebastian helps you up before you place a kiss on Ominis's lips.
"Don't worry. I loved it." You reassure him. Sebastian and Ominis help you get dressed before the two focus on their garments. Sebastian casts a cleaning charm to any suspicious fluids that might have touched any surface while Ominis casts Reparo to the destroyed piles of paper scattered on the floor (a product of their haste to fuck you moments ago).
There's a moment of silence after cleaning up as the three of you stand, fully clothed in the empty office space. This time, Ominis makes the first move. "I assume from all that's happened that you know we're still pretty much in touch with our feelings for you."
Sebastian looks at you, assessing your facial expressions as you looked at them both. Sebastian continues. "This can be a one-time thing if you don't want to delve deeper into it. We also don't mind if you prefer one over the other. Our friendship will remain intact, that I assure you."
You look at them both as their body language speaks of nervousness and fear of rejection. You doubt your friendship will ever be fixed if you chose one of them. You roll your eyes playfully. "I literally just got fucked by both of you and you're telling me to choose one?"
"I— well." Ominis tries to reason. Sebastian is silent for a moment before shrugging in agreement.
"I mean she's got a point." The brunette chuckles. You limp towards them, Sebastian's hand reaching out for you while Ominis's arm wraps around your waist.
"I assume you're choosing us both, correct?" Ominis clarifies. You chuckle at his need for reassurance before reaching up to place a kiss on his lips before turning to Sebastian to give him one as well.
"Yes. I am." You firmly answer. Ominis lets out a smile while Sebastian laughs softly. "Now please apparate me home, I'm not walking another fucking corridor after what you guys put me through."
"Yes Ma'am."
A/N: ITS DONE OFMHDHDH this took way too long but I had fun writing it. It's my first time writing filth and I hope it was up to satisfaction 😭🧎♂️🫶 will probs cringe at this in the future. TYSM.
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busted (3tan) (m) | myg
title: busted
pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f)
series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au
summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made.
note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun!
note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all!
warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍
drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est
word count: 18.8k gdi
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Here goes nothing and everything.
It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher.
A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car.
Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time.
Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else.
In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root.
Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him.
But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive.
And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.
There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.
However.
What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household.
A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.
They change with or without you.
And they pass by.
“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.
But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”
When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”
“Okay.”
When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money.
All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.
Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.
But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.
During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.
You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways.
Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.
And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.
Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.
But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?
Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now.
A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,
“You okay?”
Fuck.
Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.
And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.
When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer.
Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers.
The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”
Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.
Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.”
“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”
If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.
But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”
He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”
It’s weird to say it.
But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”
“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”
“Oh, god.”
“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”
Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview.
“Who are you seeing?”
“Kook…”
“I wanna know.”
“Why?”
He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back.
And your heart pangs at how big his back has become.
Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down.
“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.”
“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”
And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret.
Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon.
Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees.
“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”
The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets.
All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him.
“You did.”
Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.
Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.
Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?
With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all.
And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you.
Because they are still the same.
You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side.
“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…”
You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide.
But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back.
He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears.
“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.”
“I know.”
“Do you really?”
He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk.
And you’re going to.
“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.”
His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch.
You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.
“Is it true that you even loved me?”
“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.”
Did.
“I still do.”
Liar.
“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?”
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—”
When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it.
“I’ve regretted it every day since.”
“Bullshit.”
“I have!”
“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?”
“No, I—”
“All those calls you never made.”
“I wanted to call!”
“You wanted nothing to do with me!”
“No! That’s not true—”
“Liar!”
He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to.
“I’m not lying!”
“You are!”
You thought it would feel better seeing him cry.
But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this.
Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—
There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,
“What the hell’s going on in there!”
Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling?
…Were you both that loud?
“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“You better be serious—”
“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.”
“…Okay.”
And then it’s completely silent.
But you know he hasn’t left.
Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight.
Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off,
“Dude, I said I’m—”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi’s right there with him.
And your heart fucking lurches.
Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—
“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”
“Wait, it’s not like th—”
“You come into our house after years—”
“Stop!”
“And pull some shit like this?”
Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”
You and your brother have a thousand differences.
But one thing you two have in common?
He’s just as stubborn as you are.
A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.
“I’m not—”
“Hey—!”
“The fuck—”
“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.
Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you.
Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them.
Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”
Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows,
“Why should I.”
“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately.
Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.
No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.
It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”
“…So it’s like that?”
Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”
To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout,
“The fuck it isn’t—”
“It is! Fucking hell, dude...”
You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior.
Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops.
You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done.
You hope your brother understands that you’re tired.
And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished.
When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.
“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.
But they don’t have to do anything.
Except let you do this yourself.
“Please.”
After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again.
But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,
“Trust me.”
Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts.
When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence.
While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times.
However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.
What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.
It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.
But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay.
“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers.
And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.”
“Yoongi was a surprise.”
Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”
Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.
“Right.”
…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?
Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all?
“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.”
“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.”
Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years.
Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were.
Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken,
“You loved me?”
“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”
“What?”
Fuck.
It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop.
As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways.
So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years.
In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend.
“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.”
Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.
When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.
And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost.
When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”
He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.”
For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”
“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.”
“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?”
When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.”
“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.”
He laughs again. So do you.
And the both of you break all at once.
He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world.
While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder.
You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end.
But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future.
“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”
“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.
And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.
Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.
When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours.
But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave.
What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away.
But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”
Still, Jungkook moves in.
Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.
What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness.
You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”
“I promise.”
“Only alright? I have a chance then.”
“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”
His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”
Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.”
He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.”
“I’ll be okay.”
After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.
Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.
You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present.
But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.
And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.
She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.
While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of.
Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”
Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”
“He said he still loves me.”
Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”
“Dom…”
“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”
“He said it was a mistake.”
“It sure as fuck was.”
“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…”
“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”
“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.”
In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things,
“What do I have now.”
As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”
Huh?
Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”
What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on—
“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”
“K.”
Wait, what.
You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face.
His name is molasses on your tongue.
What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer?
He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets.
“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.
Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need.
Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.
When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?”
Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not.
“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”
“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”
“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.”
Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.”
“But it’s true.”
His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,
“Makes me wanna take you home.”
Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for.
Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it.
But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape.
Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.”
“Take you home?”
“Mmhmm.”
Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.”
If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide.
If you didn’t have to wait.
At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out.
But why does he seem so—
You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like.
And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.
“Listen.”
“Hmm?”
“I know we said we’d say something.”
Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”
“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”
Huh.
What does he mean by—
“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”
You freeze.
So does time.
A minute is no longer enough.
“Yoongi, please—”
“Can you do that?”
Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.
Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait.
There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless.
And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.
Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?
“Babe?”
But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs.
Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.
And yet he found a way to be with you one last time.
Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye.
So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try.
You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.
If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.
Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.
“Doll, let me know because—”
“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”
He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,
“Anything for you.”
That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.
“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.
And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel.
You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.
But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it.
Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will.
And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.
If people are like seasons…
Which one will Yoongi be?
Fuck.
Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust.
And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.
“Yoongi, I—”
You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth.
“I know.”
His name rattles around your mouth.
“It’ll be okay.”
You wanna believe him.
“Okay?”
But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him.
“Fuck.”
He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.
It’s not fair.
None of this is fucking fair.
If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now.
It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.
And now you’ll be farther apart than stars.
Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you.
“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.
Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.
Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest.
Because you know him well enough.
He was committing your every feature to memory.
And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.
The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.
And you hear them all through your door.
Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.
Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey
Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?
You [1:40am]: yeah
Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up
You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees.
When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.
Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too
That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.
You🙄 [1:46am]: ok
Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍
Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.
A plate. A bowl after that.
Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.
You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.
And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.
“Hey.”
You hum.
“Do I need to beat his ass?”
Well, that didn’t take long.
Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”
“And I’d deserve it.”
You pause.
“But I still wanna know.”
Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.”
“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”
Your lip stings under your teeth.
“And I can’t just let that go.”
When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.”
He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.
And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves.
As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing.
All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides.
But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly.
You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.
But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes.
“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.”
“...Why didn’t you tell me.”
Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”
Silence.
“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I always worry.”
“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”
Shit, that was close.
“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.”
“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.”
And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got.
He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore.
But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.
An apology.
“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.”
Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years?
This can’t be it.
Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.”
“I know. But I’ll try to be better.”
He’s gonna what? “Why?”
“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.”
“…Oh.”
You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.
And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it.
What the hell happened after he left your room?
Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?”
Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone.
But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.”
“Until they realized we kept going alone.”
A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.”
He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.”
“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things.
A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.”
“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.”
True. “It could be worse, I think.”
“How?”
You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges.
Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade?
Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence.
Together.
“They could’ve left us somewhere else.”
“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.”
Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”
And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.”
“Oh, really.”
“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”
Wait, he did what now?
…You didn’t know that.
“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”
“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”
The pause he makes weighs a ton.
“And leave this to us when you came back.”
So… He…
Holy shit.
You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out.
But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible?
…Is he paying loans?
“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.
He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”
“So were you.”
Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t.
“It’s whatever.”
He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to.
And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways.
So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is.
And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too.
Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend?
Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.”
“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.”
“What.”
“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.”
“I like it here, though.”
“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...”
“Empty?”
“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.”
You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.”
And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.
Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else.
But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things.
And regret others.
A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?”
“All the time.”
“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.”
“Hmm.”
You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.”
And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.”
You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were.
Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.
He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least.
So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.
“For what I did. I was outta line.”
“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”
“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.”
Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.
It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back.
But that doesn’t make it any less true.
“Love you, too.”
An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.
…Calling should be okay, right?
Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you...
Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
It’s ringing.
Still ringing.
…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.
Fuck.
Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.
And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can.
This hollow, aching, painful feeli—
Yoongi: Incoming Call
Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.
“H—”
“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”
His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”
Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”
“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”
Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”
You hear a low grunt before he responds.
“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.”
Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?”
“It’s not that bad. Just stings.”
“Okay.”
There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through.
“Spoke to Kook.”
Shit.
“And the guys.”
Oh. About work. “What’s up?”
“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.”
Ah. No finish line in sight.
But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.
“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.”
“When you get it.”
You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”
“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”
“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”
“See? Claiming shit already.”
You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.”
“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”
“Yoongi.”
“Fine.”
“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”
“Just work stuff.”
“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate.
Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”
“What.”
Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.”
“…I see.”
Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”
“Huh? Don’t be.”
“You sound mad.”
There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,
“Not at you, doll.”
Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”
“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”
You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper.
“Mm.”
“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.”
There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.
“I was there first, doll.”
He what?
“Wait… You were?”
He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke.
Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway.
Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.
“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.”
“So… You both heard—”
“Nothing until the yelling.”
They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him?
Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams.
Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—
Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling.
Run.
“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.”
“You okay?”
Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”
“Wait—”
“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”
“Babe, talk to—”
“Bye, Yoongi.”
And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.
He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most.
Yoongi: Missed Call
All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you.
And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself.
But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before.
And you’ve been through hell.
Yoongi: Missed Call (2)
Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?
Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?
Yoongi: Incoming Call
With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort.
And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.
“Knew you’d answer on the first try.”
Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.
“You didn’t let me say bye.”
When you don’t respond, he trudges on.
“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”
Huh?
“And no hanging up this time.”
What the heck does he… mean…
As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note.
Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.
A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.
And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.
For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s.
And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.
It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened.
Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked.
But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen.
And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you.
Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts.
As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place.
Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—
“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?”
Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen.
Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat.
“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.
“How’s Jimin?”
“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”
You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.
“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.”
“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?”
When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.
“How long has it been?”
Ah. That’s a good start.
As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,
“A month.”
“...Damn.”
Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game.
“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?”
That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.”
“That’s good, at least.”
As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat.
Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.
And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.
It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.
“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.”
If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.”
“What do you mean?”
Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.”
That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?”
A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.”
“Mm.”
That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants.
Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public.
“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.”
Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.
Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes.
But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?”
He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?”
Huh. “Me? How?”
Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.”
All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer.
“Not even denying it. I like this.”
“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again.
The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start.
“Break? Or what do you feel like?”
You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.”
“Mmk.”
Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.
Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week
Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but
Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know
Right.
You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.
“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.”
“You can definitely be upset.”
You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all.
Only warmth. And understanding.
“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.”
There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time.
Him? Being more upset than you?
You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way.
But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause.
It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.
Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…
Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present,
“What are you gonna say?”
Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again.
If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot.
You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴
You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time
When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders.
They’re lighter.
How is that possible? You’re still sad.
But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing.
Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out.
Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.
You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again.
The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.
Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says.
Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you
And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this.
You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later
Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob.
Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll
But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle.
Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.
The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.
But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.
Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close.
The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone.
“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers.
And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours.
“You will.”
Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.”
His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.
“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.”
“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.”
“Oh? The luckiest then.”
“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.”
With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food.
“Maybe you’re right.”
One week turns into three.
Then two more pass.
And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought.
“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”
“It’s okay.”
“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”
“So?”
“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”
“You got a heating pad?”
A what? How does he know about—
Oh. Right.
…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of.
“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”
He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,
“Go get it, doll.”
Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision.
Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”
“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”
“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”
Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes.
“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons.
“Okay.”
To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day.
Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.
And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.
Soon.
Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.
Both can give people a bit of hope.
But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.
Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good.
“Going to Yoongi’s.”
“K.”
“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”
You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”
“K. Have fun!”
When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.
Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere.
On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.
When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.
It’s perfect.
And completely useless for the time being.
Calls have been the one thing getting you by.
But over time, even those have virtually stopped.
It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up.
Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too.
However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded.
Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.
You accidentally spill your drink.
And you sob.
One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time.
But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…
There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size.
No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.
Painful.
As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo.
If you forget this one on the railing, too…
Will he finally show up to hand it back?
A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all.
Three months.
Ninety days.
Eight million seconds.
It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else.
How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up?
You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer.
A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels.
Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either.
To the point where it’s starting to scare you.
Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly.
But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling.
Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.
It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.
But that night in his kitchen…
It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.
On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.
You can’t.
He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.
Your finger moves a bit closer.
What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.
But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.
When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now.
Hold on, it’s an incoming call?
Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.
Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight.
How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know?
Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.
You can’t even say hello.
“Hey.”
Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong.
“Hello?”
But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable.
As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.
Because it plummets.
“Where are you.”
There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.
“What’s wrong.”
Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing.
Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.
You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.
However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted.
“Babe, tell me. Now.”
“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—”
“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?”
Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement.
Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.”
“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.”
Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.
“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.”
That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”
“I am.”
You freeze.
So does time.
And the next three seconds are enough.
“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”
After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner.
And your chest has never felt lighter.
Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats.
If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.
And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.
It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing.
But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.
As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.
“Fucking hustler.”
No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all.
In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours.
Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.
Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left.
And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.
Endless.
“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.”
With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,
“Anything for you.”
With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.
“You still have to gimme chips.”
Maybe not quite everything.
Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”
“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”
Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.
As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”
“You’re the smartass.”
“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.”
When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?”
“I just… You read.”
To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window.
Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”
“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”
He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”
“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”
“Proactive.”
“Huh? For what?”
He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.”
Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”
“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”
“That was you!”
“No?”
“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”
Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.
And you glitch when you realize why.
Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.”
He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.
Way too familiar.
Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?
No no no. Why is he taking you there?
You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.
All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.”
He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.”
“I don’t care.”
“I was only gonna bring you back.”
“Baby, please.”
“He’s home—”
“Do you still miss me?”
He freezes.
Which gives you a chance.
Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.
Almost everything.
“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.”
Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done.
“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”
He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”
Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close.
You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.
Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.
Yoongi’s still way too quiet.
So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.
“Stop.”
You do.
And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive.
The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door.
Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place.
If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.
“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—”
You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want.
“Please what.”
Everything you want.
Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”
“Huh?”
A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”
All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways.
But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap.
“The fuck.”
Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines.
You don’t know what’s coming over you.
Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.
“Babe—”
Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.
“Are you su—”
“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum.
Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…
Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding.
What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?
When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh.
Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.”
Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance.
“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”
He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”
“This.”
Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips.
He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”
And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too.
Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.
“Holy fuck.”
You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight.
And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher.
“So fucking filthy...”
You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair.
“Don’t do that.”
You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls.
“Fuck!”
There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses.
Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin.
Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus.
“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”
You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.
Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time.
And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.
But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time.
“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.”
You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”
“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,
“I’m fucking you with them on.”
“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything.
You know your panties are soaked.
You know he’s gonna wreck your shit.
But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night.
Perfect.
“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you.
He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.”
You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means.
But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot.
The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want.
He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath,
“So fucking perfect.”
“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”
“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.”
“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,
“Almost made me come.”
“Be for real.”
“Damn serious.”
The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”
“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.”
“Fuck me like you missed me.”
A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck.
Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between.
“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”
“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”
Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple.
His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”
Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved.
“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”
“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.”
He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”
You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,
“I said. Don’t move.”
“But—Yoongi!”
You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him.
“Uh uh.”
And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes.
You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling.
Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.
If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops.
When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure.
All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”
Suddenly.
He stops.
And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”
The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,
“What’d you say?”
“Plea—Baby!”
“Huh?”
Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again.
And again.
You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.
In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—
“This is what you wanted, huh.”
Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.
“You gonna be a good little slut?”
Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided.
“Then fucking beg.”
He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out.
To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.
You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”
“Need you, too.”
He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming.
Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips.
When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides.
Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too.
Because his eyes speak volumes.
They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size.
But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem.
And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window.
You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck.
“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”
When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”
You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”
“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—”
Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”
“Now swallow.”
As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.
“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.
“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.”
“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.”
Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe.
“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.”
Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”
When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better.
It’s not.
But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds.
Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke.
“Feel so good—”
When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.”
What is he—
You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.
What’s—
Oh fuck, are you on his desk?
Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass.
“Yoongi—”
You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make.
“Uh uh. Stay like that.”
“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”
“There you go.”
The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.
But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.
You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.
“Goddamn.”
Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back.
Oh, fuck!
Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—
“Come here.”
He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat.
And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel.
Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear,
“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.”
When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—
You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright.
But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs.
Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk.
Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise.
It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again.
When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.
“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”
“You already fucking know.”
“Show me what I’ve been missing.”
“Don’t fall in love.”
When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it.
“Fuck.”
His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver.
You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.
Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain.
“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep.
“It missed you, too.”
Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips.
Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.
But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard.
“Yoongi!”
“Uh huh.”
Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.
“You gonna come?”
A frantic nod.
“Then come.”
As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips.
“Again.”
Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying.
Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true.
The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands,
“Again.”
You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want.
Oh, if they could witness you now.
You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Two hearts.
One night is enough.
“So fucking perfect.”
“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.”
He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection.
Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months.
When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house.
Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there.
It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back.
And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,
“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.”
Oh, shit!
Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things.
This man leaned right into the whole thing.
“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”
“First off.”
“Uh huh.”
God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes.
Yeah. Stuff like that.
“I’m her favorite.”
Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”
A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”
Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”
When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes.
Does he feel at home, too?
“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”
Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next.
Then you pull away.
Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore.
“Come here.”
You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets.
But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern.
“How are you gonna get home?”
Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.”
“K.”
“Did I keep you from anything?”
A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.”
“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”
“But no, we were finishing up when I called.”
“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure.
When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“S’ok.”
“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.”
After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.”
Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper,
“Maybe try that one more time.”
And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed.
When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak,
“I always do, babe.”
Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.
“Miss you.”
As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering.
His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this.
“That’s my fault.”
Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.”
After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care.
“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.”
“You gave me tonight.”
When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give,
“A little longer is nothing.”
A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again.
Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”
Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.”
Us.
Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”
Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,
“What’s the fun in telling you?”
“Ass!”
While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.
“We have a game next week.”
As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.”
“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.”
And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.
What’s he doing?
You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.
When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul.
An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds.
As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others.
You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window.
“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”
“Huh? Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”
Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”
He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.”
At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?”
“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.”
“Ah, I see.”
You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips.
“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”
“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.”
Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours.
You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface.
And you start to hum.
It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones.
You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.
And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.
“Shit, was I too loud?”
He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side.
“Not at all.”
So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head.
And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.
Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.
When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss.
Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light.
You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.
For him, you can do anything.
But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.
And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.
“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”
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tbc. :)
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a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?
A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf)
A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder.
A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful!
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feedback box:
⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated!
⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think!
⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like!
⇥ here!
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more links:
⇥ three tangerines masterlist
⇥ masterlist
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