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kookslastbutton · 2 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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kithtaehyung · 3 months

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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi 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 | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.

“Were they always on this team?”

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.”

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.

“And you’re paying me double.”

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.”

You stare.

“This will be over soon.”

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”

That was close. Way too close.

Get it together.

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.

However.

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,

“I need you all to calm down.”

“No can do, coach.”

“Not if they aren’t.”

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.

And you don’t like it one bit.

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.

“What?”

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”

“After what he did to you?”

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.”

“Yoongi.”

“Sorry, doll.”

“Please just—”

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.

Only for him to be just out of reach.

After halftime, it’s a whole different game.

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if…

Nah.

That’s still too big a reach.

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”

Motherfucker.

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.

Weird.

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”

“You’re whipped.”

“No, you.”

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake.

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud.

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”

“No! What the fuck—”

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.

“Babe, we have to go now.”

“No, let me go!”

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!”

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.

You want to believe him. You do. You do.

But hope may be a bitch.

So you don’t.

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”

Oh.

“Your brother’s here, too.”

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”

“Umm.. Yeah.”

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”

“Fuck that.”

“Huh?”

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”

And you mean that.

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?”

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.

So you leave to go pack without another word.

It’s raining.

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there.

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.

Finally. “Hello.”

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.”

“No!”

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,

“…No.”

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.

And your breath cuts like it’s your last.

Shards.

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it.

Throw it out, all of it, all of it.

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.

Shit, this is everywhere.

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts.

This really, really hurts.

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.

“I got it.”

“Let me do it.”

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”

“I still need to—”

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”

“Do what? I’m helping you.”

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.

But ice.

“Who said I needed it?”

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”

“You think I’m joking?”

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”

“I say a lot of things.”

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”

“Not tonight what.”

“We aren’t doing this tonight.”

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”

“I am.”

“Wow.”

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”

“Do you even know?”

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”

“That’s cus—”

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then.

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,

“Who asked you?”

Dark liquid drips onto your soul.

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”

“That’s what I said.”

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”

“Whoa, hold u—”

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”

“Just listen—”

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.

“I swear to—”

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.

“He’s still home.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”

Your eyes are ice.

“Are you.”

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.

And Yoongi cracks like lightning.

“Goddamn it.”

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.

“Stubborn.”

“Coward.”

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation.

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.

“Holy fuck.”

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.

And it’s maddening. “Please!”

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.

“What was that?”

“I said fuck you!”

“Thought so.”

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”

“Fuck—!”

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”

“Asshole—”

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”

“Make me. Bet you can’t.”

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.

“Fuckin’ thought so.”

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”

“What, doll.”

“Please!”

“Nah.”

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.

Every. Single. Time.

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”

“Please!”

“Mm. Not loud enough.”

“Yoongi, please.”

“Oh, we’re saying names now?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”

“Do it yourself then.”

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat.

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”

“Nah.”

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?”

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,

“Then fucking come.”

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.

“I said again.”

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.

“Yoongi—”

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.”

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.

“Babe.”

“I—I—”

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.

“There you go. Keep going.”

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Babe.”

“You told me so many times—”

“Breathe, angel.”

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just… Like this.”

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”

“I’m here.”

“So please don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you don’t make promises but—”

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”

“Hmm?”

“Shower.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise.”

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.

“You got hurt cus I said to play.”

“Nope.”

“I wore the outfit that day.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And lost my friends at the club.”

“No.”

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,

“How about we share it.”

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”

“Okay.”

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”

“Duh.”

He’s himself again.

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.

That’s all you both need to feel peace.

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”

Scroll, scroll.

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.

Scroll, scroll.

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.”

Time bursts.

Your chest glows.

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.

His eyes.

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?

No.

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you?

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”

“I want what you want, doll.”

“Then it’s okay.”

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yoongi—”

“Fuck.”

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”

Again.

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.

“Taking me so well like this.”

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”

“Uh uh.”

“Please—please—”

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Mmhmm.”

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.

Swelling, you already feel close.

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins.

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you.

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”

Oh. Wait. “What?”

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”

“You did threaten to kick me out before.”

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”

“Guess what.”

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”

“I can!”

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.

And it hurts. It really, really hurts.

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.”

Oh.

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.”

tbc. :)

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ 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! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#AHHH it's finally here!#bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfic #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #3tan12 #*latest

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bluemari23 · 4 months

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hello soulmate | min yoongi

summary: your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

pairing: min yoongi x hype employee reader

genre: soulmate au, soulmarks, fluff,

warnings: running, unhappy coworkers, some injury

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

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Running was not your forte, and neither was breathing apparently as you choke trying to get air into your lungs as you reach the fortunately empty elevator.

You were running late, and you were seconds away from being fired on your third day of work. You had just gotten the job as one of the content creators for a variety show through one of the big four entertainment companies, and today was the first official day at the company.

HYBE was bigger than you imagined, and thus, the reason you were late. You had gotten lost on the first floor and then there were issues with your ID card getting past security. But you manage to reach the 12th floor in record time and use the piece of paper you received the last meeting to find the correct room.

It was slight chaos when you opened the door, unsurprisingly as you now realized who you would be working with for the variety show. Everything was kept top secret until you were approved by HYBE and showed up on the first day, after signing numerous NDA’s of course.

The BTS boys were having fun and running amuck as they waited for the shoot to start. It was supposed to be just a fun shoot, numerous arcade games set up throughout the room and a table set in the middle where some challenges were going to take place later on.

You looked around after taking in the room, trying to set eyes on your director. Eventually you find him talking to your fellow creators, going over the different challenges that would be taking place.

“—After the water bottle challenge, we’re going to move onto the karaoke booth.” You arrive just at the tail end of the run through, but you manage to understand anyways, seeing as you all had a copy of the schedule for the day.

“Where have you been? Never mind, you’re working on the individual camera today.” Your director questions you but doesn’t give you any time to explain yourself before moving on and assigning you your task. You quickly nod your head, before moving to grab one of the video cameras from the table.

You would be in charge of taking individual behind the scenes videos and photos for the social media accounts. You had seen episodes of Run BTS before and knew how much moving you would be doing today.

Again. Running wasn’t your thing.

“What are you doing?” You turn your head to see a slightly older woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she looks towards the camera in your hands.

“I was assigned individual shots today, Ma’am.” You respond as politely as you can, getting bad feelings from the woman in front of you.

You could almost feel that you would be having problems with her. You tried to be respectful though, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes on your first official day.

The woman just looked you up and down, her nose crinkling a little before she spoke. “Just don’t get in my way. I’ve been doing this longer than you have and don’t need some inexperienced newbie messing up my photos.”

You can only nod before she is walking past you, bumping into your shoulder on her way past.

‘What the heck?’ you think, turning to watch as she steps forward and begins to talk to one of the supervisors who was in the middle of talking to Namjoon. Shaking your head, you move to the edge of the set, close to the basketball arcade shot game.

You had a good view of the other games from here and felt you could maneuver through the set easier from where you were set up. Bringing your camera up to your eyes, you begin taking some practice shots, making sure the lighting was good and the settings on the camera aligned with what you wanted to photograph.

It took you some time, but eventually you were able to begin taking photos of the boys who had come back to mess around with the games after getting changed and before the actual shoot started.

You were so focused on the pictures that you didn’t even notice one of the boys moving up to you.

“Hi! You must be one of the new creators! I’m Taehyung.” The bright eyed man bounced right up to you when he noticed you, hand held in front of you to shake your hand as he introduced himself.

You put your camera down, smiling softly as you brought your hand to meet his, introducing yourself. As you did, you caught his attention on your wrist, where your soulmark resided. The initials of your soulmate were written in short, quick writing, the gray M and Y staring back up at you since the minute you turned sixteen.

Taehyung’s smile only seemed to widen once you introduced yourself, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You could barely blink before the director was calling for the boys to get into place; the shoot was about to begin.

You smile as you watch him bounce away again, his energy levels palpable as you hold your camera up again.

The next hour was spent moving slowly throughout the edge of the set up game room, trying to get as many good shots as you could. You noticed that Taehyung gravitated towards you and seemed to pull Yoongi with him to play the basketball game, Jungkook following behind to try and battle against the basketball player.

You moved closer to get a picture of both boys making a basket and scoring a point when someone stepped on your foot causing pain to radiate up your ankle and shin. A gasp leaves your lips as you look towards your left to see the woman from earlier, a glare set on her dark eyes as she almost pushes you aside.

You end up tripping over the cord to another game and just barely manage to catch yourself on the corner of said game before injuring yourself or ruining the shoot. You were so focused on the pain in your foot you didn’t even notice the burning in your wrist as your soulmark gets darker.

You didn’t notice the three men witnessing the entire thing, nor the dark looks Taehyung was sending to the older woman. A break was luckily called soon enough and you tried to move away back to the far wall but a hand on your arm stops you.

“What was that? I thought I told you not to get in my way?!” The older woman steps in front of you, her hand still gripping tightly to your forearm.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You grit out as politely as you can, the pain in your ankle making you want to sit down but you knew you needed to just go along with what she was saying, not wanting any trouble.

“No. Don’t apologize.” You both turn to your right to see Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook, all three eyeing the hand gripping onto your forearm. The woman is quick to release you when she realizes what the boys were seeing.

“Oh boys! Don’t worry about this. I’m just giving some advice to the newbie.” The woman was quick to put on the sweet tone as she speaks to them. You just want to roll your eyes.

Pulling your arm back to your chest, rubbing against where you knew her grip was going to leave some bruises. Your sleeve had rolled back down and your forearm was on full display, along with your soulmark.

“Advice? It seemed like you stepped on and pushed someone out of the way. That is not okay nor something we want to see happen between our employees.” Yoongi’s voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if to ensure the woman knew exactly what she had done.

Jungkook moved to you while Taehyung and Yoongi were talking to the woman, his hand holding onto your own, softly and a huge contrast to the woman as he tilts your forearm around to see the spot where the woman held you.

The skin was red and he knew it would bruise. This was unacceptable and he would make sure that the woman would be reprimanded for her actions. As Jungkook continued to look over your arm, his attention was caught by your soulmark, his hyungs initials on the inside of your wrist.

‘No wonder Taehyung kept bringing him to where you were…’ Jungkook mused, a small smile on his lips as the thought of Taehyung trying to bring you two together.

Well, no time like the present.

Taehyung agreed, as his next words caught the attention of everyone.

“You hurt Yoongi’s mate.” Your eyes widened as your head turned quickly to see Yoongi already staring at you, your faces both sharing the expression of shock. Jungkook was still holding your wrist, bringing you the two feet until you were right in front of Yoongi.

You were silent, trying to process everything as Yoongi looked down at your held out wrist, his initials written in his own handwriting. Slowly, he pulled his own sleeve up, showing you his soulmark.

Your initials were written in your own soft script, smooth cursive showing on his inner wrist, the same spot as your own.

You were lost in your own world, oblivious to all of the noise and emotions happened outside the two of you. Yoongi slowly brought his hand to your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the top of your soulmark, gray turning to a dark black as the soulbond snaps into place confirming Taehyung’s suspicions.

“Hello, soulmate.” A gummy smile burns into your retina, a memory you never want to forget as warmth erupts in your soul.

#min yoongi #yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts suga #suga #min yoongi x reader #hype employee reader #yoongi x reader #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #yoongi solumate #bts yoongi soulmate #soulmarks #bts yoongi #suga x reader #fluff #bluemari23

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moonchild1 · 1 year

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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hi guys it's been a minute since i posted it's been hectic i recently got a promotion so that's been taking up my time but here's another list of my favourite yoongi fics honestly reading them was so much fun and made me feel happy so i hope you enjoy them as much as i did. remember to please show lots of love and support to these incredible authors and creators and their blogs, don't forget to give them a follow , leave a heart, reblog or leave a kind message i know they will appreciate hearing from you, these fics contain smut so no minors interact feel free to send and share any fics you are currently into and would like to share with me i would love hearing from you guys

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

love lockdown by @personasintro f s a (enemies to lovers zombie apocalypse)

belong by @ahundredtimesover f s a (exes au basketball yoongi summer love au)

in the margins by @bonvoyagenoona f s a (enemies to friends to lovers slow burn)

look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash s a (enemies/coworkers to lovers slow burn)

andante cantabile by @kkulfm-2 f s (regency au unrequited love slow enemies to lovers pianist yoongi)

match made in hell by @ughcore f s a (arranged marriage doctor au rivals to lovers)

only yesterday by @borathae f s a (strangers to lovers)

dating advice by @taleasnewastime f s a (strangers to lovers)

the deal by @untaemedqueen f s a (strangers to lovers gang/cartel au)

matilda by @babystrcandy f s a (brother's best friend unrequited love)

down the hall by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend)

ink nemesis by @scriptaed f a (fake dating au)

unexpected lovers by @jjkeverlast f s a (fake dating artist yoongi)

love is a dog from hell by yourlocalhoney (ao3) f s a (love triangle friends with benefits) ft.Jungkook

petals by @yoonia f (parents au)

pink bird houses by @54daysormore f a (single dad au)

everytime by @deathbyyoongx f s a (fuckboy exes au)

desolate by @angelicyoongie f s a (hybrid au)

one-shot

first-date bait by @jimlingss f (strangers to lovers)

↬first-date bait drabble @/jimlingss s (strangers to lovers)

wallflowers by @bonvoyagenoona s (strangers to lovers)

shirt by @bonvoyagenoona s a (one night stand idol au)

sugar by @zehakoo f s (ceo au strangers to lovers neighbours)

radio sweethearts by @helenazbmrskai s (brother's best friend college au slow burn)

tongue like candy by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend age gap)

auburn skies by @persphonesorchid f s a (brother's best friend)

black and white by @akinnie75 f a (slow burn)

always & forever by @sugakookitty f s (established relationship wedding au)

hard liquor by @chateautae s (boss x employee age gap)

sweetener by @taegularities f s (enemies to lovers fwb au fuckboy)

soft spot by @cultleaderyoongi f (first date)

↬sweet spot by @/cultleaderyoongi f s (established relationship)

sticks & stones by @xpeachesncream f s a (friends to lovers ex friends with benefits pinning au)

fuck being friends by @strawberrynamjoon f a (friends to lovers college au)

the seventh muse by @wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

tell me what you want by @/wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

yoongi’s lullaby by @jiminrings f a (unrequited love friends to lovers soulmate au)

illicit favors by @yoongiofmine f s a (friends to lovers)

snow blanket by @yoonieper f s (friends to lovers)

a wager of lords & love @hisunshiine s (regency au arranged marriage)

an empty home by @7deadlysinsfics s a (arranged marriage) ft. Taehyung

the nanny diaries by @btsgotjams27 f (single mom roommate au)

the good part by @introlxv s (roommate au)

handyman by @borathae s a (rebound au roommate au)

peaches in bed by @/borathae s (domestic au husband au)

don't hold hands by @whatifyoulivelikethat s ( friends with benefits roommate au)

by the time i've figured out what it's worth by @ugh-yoongi f s a (marriage au)

swing life away by @aphrodijin f s a (marriage au)

the little things by @kth1 f s (boyfriend au)

fxck a fxckboy! by @yoongifis s (fuckboy)

cupid's curse by @ressjeon s a (first love au)

dawned in by @aquagustd f s (dilf yoongi)

bad things by @yoonia s a (escort au pining)

close call by @xjoonchildx (mafia au)

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

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aphrodijin · 1 year

Text

swing life away | min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

rating: 18+

word count: 5.2k

tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.

this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)

If you want to support me and help with my dental care funds, please consider tipping me at ko-fi.com/aphrodijin or commission me to write you a fic. I could really use some help.

Thank you so much once again, have a great day! x

©️ 2022 aphrodijin

3K notes · View notes

redrose10 · 4 months

Text

Here is Chapter 6! Things are getting heated between the two. I appreciate the feedback and I hope you’re enjoying the story!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 4,322

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

After what seemed like forever you and Jimin were having a day together at his place. He put out a spread of various foods and drinks while the two of you talked and caught up with each other.

“How have things been between you and Yoongi?”

“Slightly better I guess. We have meals together sometimes and we talk a little more.”

“He doesn’t shut up about you at work.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked taking a bite of your dumpling.

Jimin giggled, “I don’t know, he’s just always asking about you. Like how you’re doing or if you mentioned anything about him. It’s kind of cute. Like a teenager with a crush.”

“I mean we live together and we’re already married. Why doesn’t he just ask me himself?”

“I don’t know. Yoongi’s always been kind of weird that way.”

“Oh yeah I completely forgot to tell you that he was livid last night about you introducing me to Taehyung. Said he was going to kill you and then fire you. I still don’t know why he got so upset about the whole thing.”

“Well because Taehyung is extremely handsome and also very straight forwardly friendly and kind. He’s a lot of what Yoongi isn’t and Yoongi knows that. I think he was a little worried you’d run off because he knows he wouldn’t stand a chance if Taehyung made a move on you.”

His words caused you to stop and think for a moment. Yoongi jealous? “I mean why would he care so much? I feel like he’s been trying to get rid of me since day one so Taehyung would just be doing him a favor.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s starting to come around a little. Maybe you’re slowly melting away at his ice cold heart.”

You remembered what Seokjin had told you about Yoongi coming around eventually.

“Yeah well tell that to all the women he already cheated on me with. I’m sure that’s still going on somehow.”

“Trust me I know. I’ve had many words with him about that. Now as far as I know he hasn’t been with any women in a couple months. He even transferred out one of his favorite interns because she wasn’t taking no for an answer and kept coming on to him.”

The laugh that you let out bellowed through the room, “Yeah okay. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

After finishing up all the food that was left and helping him clean up you said goodbye to Jimin and headed home. You felt better, lighter even, after spending the day with him. It was definitely something you needed. Getting home you were surprised to find Yoongi sitting on the couch watching a basketball game. He was dressed comfortably in sweats and a tshirt. It was off as you’ve alway seen him in expensive suits. Even his casual wear was usually still designer and well styled. You’ve never seen him look so plain before but he looked happier somehow.

When he noticed you he smiled and told you there was some takeout in the fridge that he had ordered for you just in case you were hungry.

You thanked him and headed off to your room wanting to take a hot shower and get ready for bed as you weren’t really hungry after eating at Jimins all day.

Just as you were about to get under the covers a soft knock appeared at your door. Yoongi was standing there holding a mug which he quickly handed over to you and you smiled at the warm milk staring back at you. You had a feeling that he wanted something more than to just bring you a glass of milk at 11pm.

Your instincts were right because he began to nervously scratched at the side of his neck, “So Y/N our first anniversary is coming up and I was wondering if maybe you would like to go on a trip with me. To celebrate. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d fully understand. I just thought maybe we could go somewhere or I don’t know. Again it’s okay if you don’t want to go. I haven’t planned anything yet. I just thought I’d ask to see what you’d say. It’s probably a dumb idea.”

At this point he was rambling so fast you could barely make out what he was saying. Maybe it was the fact that you were so tired or that you were still on a high from the great day you had with Jimin but you agreed. “Sure Yoongi. I’ll go with you. Sounds nice.”

You could see the tension leave his body as well as the surprised look on his face showing that he fully expected you to decline his offer. “Okay, I’ll let you know the details once I have them figured out.”

Nodding you shut the door and climbed in bed with your mind racing. Another week stuck on vacation with Yoongi. Something you had hoped you’d never have to go through again.

A few days went by and one day during dinner Yoongi had told you that the anniversary trip was going to be a surprise. All you needed to know was to pack comfy clothes and that he’d handle the rest.

Two weeks later you were in the passenger seat as Yoongi drove the two of you to your destination. While surprised that this trip didn’t involve a plane you were also excited as this meant you werent going to have to suffer in tropical hell again.

After a four hour car ride you pulled up in front of a large cabin.

“I know it’s not the Alps but I thought it would be nice to go somewhere more low key and quiet. I wanted a redo of our honeymoon since I had purposely picked somewhere I knew you’d hate.”

“I knew you did that on purpose.”, you smirked.

Yoongi opened the front door for you with the code he was given while he went back to the car to grab the bags. The cabin was what you’d always dreamed about. There was a large fireplace with a stack of wood ready to be burned sitting next to it. A big comfy couch adorned with fluffy blankets and pillows sat in front. The kitchen was massive and to your surprise already fully stocked with food. Making your way upstairs to the master bedroom you were excited to see a balcony.

Stepping out you were greeted with the most breath taking view you’d ever seen. Snow covered mountains were framed by tall and full pine trees. Off in the distance a family of deer ran through the snow. You felt like you were looking at a Christmas card. It was quiet and peaceful and everything you could hope for.

While taking in the beauty you didn’t notice Yoongi step out onto the balcony behind you. He startled you as he spoke, “Do you like it?” “Yeah it’s incredible.”, you smiled. It didn’t take long for him to violently start shivering which got a big laugh out of you even though he tried his best to hide it.

“Come on you big baby. Let’s go back inside.”

Once back in the warmth of the cabin Yoongi told you to take a shower or a nap or whatever you wanted and he’d start on dinner.

You opted for a nice hot bath letting the water soothe you. The lavender oil provided by the host adding a nice comforting touch. When you were cleaned and changed into some comfy clothes you went down to the bottom level finding that Yoongi had built a fire and was just putting the finishing touches on the meal.

You both ate quietly before you grabbed a blanket and went to the couch to watch a movie while he cleaned up before joining you. There was an awkward feeling in you. Even though the two of you were married you’d never really spent quality time like this together. You weren’t sure if you should sit right next to him or maybe on the other side of the couch but is that too awkward? Should you share a blanket or get him his own? Let him pick the movie or should you? You felt kind of ridiculous because it shouldn’t be so hard to watch a movie with your husband but at the same time it’s Yoongi.

You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy green blanket and decided to just take a seat on the right side of the couch and let him make the next move. Yoongi walked in a few minutes later handing you a mug of warm milk before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

“I already chose a movie. I hope that’s okay. It’s one I’ve been wanting to see for a while.”, he said.

“Yeah sure that’s fine.”, you shrugged secretly happy that you wouldn’t have to awkwardly try to pick something together.

After he clicked play you chuckled when you heard the familiar music.

“Seriously Harry Potter?”, you asked.

“Yeah I’ve never seen it before and I’ve been told I resemble one of the characters so I thought we’d check it out.”

Snuggling in deeper to your blanket you smiled and began to watch as the movie unfolded.

The two of you made it through the first movie and decided to also get through the second when about half way through you felt a sudden chill. Since you’d planned to go to bed after this movie you stopped adding wood to the fire and it was noticeably colder in the room. Looking over you noticed the goosebumps climbing up Yoongi’s arm and you realized he was without a blanket.

Knowing that you were probably going to regret it later you scooted over so you were sitting closer to him. Not touching but close enough that you could share your blanket so you reached over and placed half on his lap.

“Here you look cold.”

“Thank you.”, he said with a smile and pulled the blanket up to cover himself.

Once the movie was over and after a passionate review on his part you made your way upstairs when the realization hit you. This cabin only had one bed. Yoongi who was not far behind you stopped when he noticed you standing there.

“Oh um how are we going to sleep tonight? I mean with only one bed?”, you asked.

“Well I thought we could share the bed together. Sorry I guess I should’ve asked you first. I can sleep down on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

For a second you really did consider making him sleep on the couch but ultimately decided that the bed was big enough for the two of you to comfortably share.

After completing your nightly routines you got in bed leaving a healthy space between the two of you. Both on your backs staring up at ceiling in silence until Yoongi spoke.

“Red”

You looked over at him with furrowed brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

Not removing his eyes from the spot on the ceiling he continued, “My favorite color is red. When we first went on a date you asked me and I made a sarcastic remark instead of telling you so I’m telling you now.”

You hummed.

“I also do really like to drink whiskey but if I had to choose I would never pass up a glass of ice cold chocolate milk.”

You snorted and he laughed, “You have no room to make fun of me Miss Mug of Warm Milk Before Bed.”

“I love basketball and music. Those are my interests. Growing up I wanted to be a music producer maybe even a rapper but my parents put a stop to that and made sure I would be set up to take over the company instead. Sometimes I regret that I let them stop me. Maybe I’d be a happier person if I went against their wishes.”

“I think you’re pretty good at what you do though. I mean you seem successful. But you should definitely rap for me one day. I’d pay to hear that.”

“I don’t think you could handle my lyrics.”, he said causing you both to erupt into laughter.

After a while of silence he continued, “Y/N I want to apologize for the way I treated you this first year. I know these are just words and you’re going to need a lot more than that from me but I’m going to do my best.”

“I heard from Jimin that you haven’t been hooking up with other women any more. Is that true?”

“Mmhm yeah it is. I haven’t been with anyone in a couple months.”

“Can I ask you another question?”, you asked.

“Go for it.”

“Why were you so determined to make this marriage miserable?”

He let go of a long sigh, “Well it’s kind of a long story. But uh when I was sixteen I met this girl, Mia. After a few months I finally worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes. We dated for a while and when we were nineteen I wanted to propose. We were young but I knew I loved her more than anything in this world and I wanted to spend my life with her because there’d never be anyone else that I could possibly love that much. She was my everything. So I had this big elaborate proposal planned. She thought I was out of town on a business trip but I had lied about that and I left her a note in our apartment telling her to meet me on the rooftop of our building and I had the whole area decorated with roses and there was a dinner planned and I had a piano set up to play her a song that I wrote and then I’d get down on one knee. But after she was like 45 minutes late I went down to the apartment to see what was going on and she didn’t even read the note because she was too busy fucking some guy in our bed. Then she confessed that she’d been cheating on me the entire relationship and was only with me for the money and perks of my family. So after that I swore I’d never love anyone ever again. If I don’t love anyone then they can’t possibly hurt me like that. So after I met you I wanted you to hate me and treat me like you hated me because then I’d never fall for you but no matter what I did you’d still always be kind and be there waiting for me and putting in effort to make this work. I found myself starting to realize that maybe not everyone is out to just use me and that someone could actually love me.”

You sat in silence trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry Yoongi. That did sound like a really nice proposal though. A lot better than here’s this contract, sign on the dotted line like mine.”

He chucked, “Nah looking back it was pretty cheesy anyways. Maybe one day I’ll give you the proposal you deserve.”

“Okay but I want a song. And there better be a rap verse.”

“Deal. Any thing for you.”

The room fell into a silence after that.

“Anything you’d like to ask me?”, you questioned with a smile wanting to change the subject.

“Nope” he said but thankfully you could hear the playful smile in his voice.

“What is your family like?

You knew he was trying to ask about the orphanage thing without directly bringing it up so you decided to just spill it.

“Umm well my parents were great from what I remember. They were killed in a car accident when I was around five. Then I lived with my Aunt Erica until I was eight when she passed away from cancer. No one else in my family was willing or able to take me in so I was sent to live in an orphanage which is where I stayed until I turned eighteen. Then I met Jimin in college and we became really good friends. When he moved away I was pretty much on my own until I came here. So I guess we’re both just a couple broken hearted people, just in different ways.”

He didn’t respond right away and you weren’t sure if maybe you said too much until he spoke again.

“I’m really sorry Y/N. No one should have to go through something like that. I wish I could take away that pain.”

“It’s alright. Nothing can change it now.”

The two of you talked for a little while longer until finally falling asleep feeling a little closer.

The following day Yoongi took you sightseeing through the little mountain town. You ate lunch at a very cute cafe owned by the sweetest elderly woman who recognized Yoongi and kept gushing about how out of all the places to eat he chose her cafe. She even made him take a photo with her to hang on the wall. The woman wrapped her arms around his mid section clinging to him for dear life while completing how toned he felt which caused Yoongi to turn a shade of red you didn’t think was possible for a person. You got a good kick out of it at least.

After getting back to the cabin you changed out of your snow soaked clothes and agreed to continue watching the next Harry Potter film as a continuation of the night before. This time though without thinking you sat down next to Yoongi and immediately covered both of you with the blanket before grabbing the tray of cookies and various pastries he had bought at the cafe earlier. He gave you a smile before taking one of the cookies in his mouth.

You guys got through two more movies before deciding to call it a night and getting into bed.

When you fell asleep you were on opposite sides of the bed. So you were extremely confused when you woke up a couple hours later and Yoongi was now spooning you while holding you as close against him as you could get. His arms tightly wrapped around your waist as his breath tickled the back of your neck.

Part of you wanted to scramble out of the bed and get as far away from him as you could but another part of you was really enjoying the warmth and comfort of being in his arms.

You tried to distance yourself and push away from him a little but his arms only snaked around you tighter pulling you back.

In your attempt to push away you may have accidentally stirred something in him. Slowly he began placing kisses along the back of your neck and down your shoulder. His hand running down the side of your hip before his fingers began dancing on your thighs. Your body seemed to melt into him.

“Yoongi”, you whispered trying to get a better grasp of what his intentions were. Maybe he was just dreaming you thought. He placed another two kisses to the back of your neck, “Is this okay? I’ll stop if you want.” You really thought about it. Your heart was telling you no but your brain and the rest of your body was saying yes. “You really haven’t slept with anyone else in the last couple months?”, you questioned. “I swear on everything.”, he answered.

Turning over to face him you suddenly felt an extreme wave of nervousness come over you.

“We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable Y/N.”

You nodded, “I want to.”

He kissed your lips before adjusting himself to be on top of you. He began placing kisses along your neck past your collarbone. His hands reaching for the hem of your night shirt lightly gripping the edge. “Can I?”, he asked. You nodded slightly sitting up so he could pull the shirt off you.

“You really are beautiful Y/N.”, he said as his hands traced over your body.

As the kisses between you became more and more intense and his hands seemed to have more courage you felt him begin push himself against you and any apprehension you had went away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this and you wanted him bad.

The rest of your clothes were removed as were his and your bodies reconnected like a magnet had pulled you two together. Whether it was the fact that it had been so long for you or the way that he took his time making sure to pleasure every inch of your body, it was the best and also most intense experience you had ever had.

Afterwards he pulled you close against him while you both tried to slow down your rapid breathing. He placed another kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. Just before he fell asleep you heard the faintest whisper, “I love you Y/N.”

After that you had a hard time falling asleep. Things in your relationship were moving a little too fast for your liking. This is what you had always hoped for and what you had always wanted but after everything that had happened with him you knew you would have to move forward carefully.

Having fallen asleep at some point you were woken up when Yoongi began moving and got out of the bed making his way to bathroom. A few minutes later the shower kicked on so you sat up stretching in the bed to wait your turn.

The nightstand next to you kept vibrating and you saw Yoongi’s phone laying face down.

Every few seconds

*Buzz*

You started to get annoyed but then you worried that something may be wrong. You grabbed his phone preparing to knock on the bathroom door when you happened to glance at the phone screen. There were several texts and missed calls nothing that concerned you as he was a busy guy after all. Until something red caught your eye. A text from someone name Suri. In the text a photo of a woman dressed in a barely there red lace lingerie set. You thought back to Yoongi telling you his favorite color was red. The text included with the photo is what caused the room to spin around you.

“Last week was amazing. Can’t wait to see you again. I went out and got a new outfit for you and in red just like you like it. Maybe don’t rip this one. ♥️😘”

After tossing the phone onto the bed you grabbed your suitcase and started throwing all of your belongings into it. You felt sick. You felt like crying. You felt like throwing something. He lied to you. He lied to you before, during, and after.

Yoongi unknowing of the events that just transpired came walking out of the bathroom towel drying his hair. “Y/N I think we should go back to that cafe for breakfast, they had a croissant sandwich I think you’ll really like, and then maybe walk down to that lake it looked really nic-.” He stopped when he saw you stuffing your bag.

“What are you doing?”

You looked up at him with a tear stained face.

“Y/N what happened? Did someone do something to you?”

“Yeah Yoongi, You!! I can’t believe you. What kind of sick game are you playing? Just when I thought you were changing for the better. That maybe deep down you were a good person and not a self centered jerk.”

“Y/N what’s going on? I don’t understand what happened?”

“Oh cut the bullshit Yoongi. You know if you wanted to just use me for sex we could’ve stayed at home and hate fucked each other or something. You didn’t have to bring me out here and make me think you were actually falling in love with me.”

“Y/N I do love you and I have been trying to change. I’m trying to show you that.”

“Fuck you Yoongi. I’m not doing this any more. Next time you need someone to stick your dick into go ahead and call Suri. It looks like she’s replaced the lingerie set that you ripped LAST WEEK! It’s a cute one too. I was even thinking about getting something similar last night but now at least I don’t have to waste money on it.”

Yoongi took a step forward to try and reach out to you but you put your hands up to separate yourself.

“Y/N nothing happened with her. I swear. I know it looks back but let me explain.”

“Save it.”

Before you grabbed the door handle you stopped and turned to face him, “You know I actually felt really bad for you after you told me about Mia and what she did to you. I understood how you could be the way that you are and I was 100% committed to trying to forgive you and move on with a loving happy marriage. But now, I don’t know if I can ever truly love you Yoongi.”

You slammed the door behind you and stormed out of the house. Thankfully the bus station wasn’t too far of a walk and the cold air gave you a chance to calm down anyways and also have an excuse as to why your face was so red. After buying a ticket you took a seat on a bench near the window to wait for your bus. You really wished you would’ve taken a shower before storming out of the cabin. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla heavily staining your skin, a painful reminder of your mistake from the night before.

#yoongi fanfic #bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #min yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #cinnamon&vanilla #arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #yoongi au #bts x reader #bts yoongi

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muniimyg · 1 year

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YOUR UNIVERSE // MYG

in which min yoongi refuses to lose you

regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

navi | m. list | ask me ! | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !

pairings:

basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc

au/genre:

friends to lovers

uni au

one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era <3

parts:

30/30 ( completed 03/04/2023 )

index # youniverse myg

00 | intro

01 | like a loser

02 | coincidence

03 | booboo

04 | not my girl ✒️

05 | no

06 | behave

07 | valentine

08 | winners and losers

09 | downbad era

10 | especially you

11 | support

12 | three for three ✒️

13 | dangle

14 | for my ace :)

15 | please

16 | baby

17 | aki & ace

18 | benched

19 | promise

20 | you’re mine

21 | until then

22 | maybe ✒️

23 | no loyalty

24 | shit ✒️

25 | pu$$y fairy

26 | fight

27 | earth

28 | orbit ✒️

29 | nothing/everything

30 | about you ✒️

epilogue

+ extra ! new ace (2)

+ extra ! jealousy (3)

+ extra ! babies (4)

+ extra ! in our forever (5)

+ extra ! first kiss (1)

end.

#min yoongi fic #bts suga fic #bts smau #basketball captain yoongi #suga basketball #bts social media edits #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi crack au #yoongi fluff #yoongi f2l #bts f2l #bts crack au

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hellbornsworld · 8 months

Text

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆

➳ She's too innocent for his tastes. But it's only a matter of time before he can turn that pure mind into a dirty one.

«Kim Taehyung keeps on sending flowers to your twin sister's grave.»

"I promise I would never leave you, not in a million years."

"Stop lying, Yoongi. Why promise me a million when you don't even live a hundred years?"

"What if I say I do?"

A cliché story about Min Yoongi who fell in love with his human, you. Because, why not?

"You don't have to see love Darling, you feel it. When you feel it you will know, because you would rather die than live a day without it."

Y/N Han works as a daycare worker from morning till noon. One day, she received a new kid to take care of and unknown to her that the kid's father is actually a very dangerous mafia leader that everyone goes by RM. And when RM laid his eyes on his daughter's daycare teacher he's obsessed instantly.

❝I wish we could've met a totally different way. I hate to admit it, but I won't deny it...

I wish you would fall for me the way I feel I'm falling for you. If only.❞

❝No one ever expected it to be me,❞ Hoseok smirks chillingly. ❝I'm the one with the sweet smile.❞

What's a "love story" without a little darkness?

Yours Truly

JJK

❝You make the stars jealous, mi amor.❞

- In which the richest, most eligible bachelor of Seville lusts for a flamenco dancer below his class.

In which, Min Yoongi, a lonely wolf who fell in love with his own mate's little sister, you.

''I'll turn your software into hardware''

"You were supposed to be a bath bomb!"

"Well turns out its your lucky day, sweetheart, cause you just got something ten times better: me."

"Watch where you're putting your hands, Agent Love."

In which a love genie who sucks at names and a renegade government agent are put together.

He was a patient man.

He wouldn't mind to wait for the right time to reap what he thought he deserved. He had lived in the dark for far too long, that happiness was such a foreign notion for him. Until you crossed his path and awakened something deep inside him. Until he realized there was indeed glowing light on the other side of his world, just a flicker at the end of the journey he had to conquer.

Until the sunshine he had waited became you.

In which a girl has a big crush on the basketball player, min yoongi but she has a secret admirer who has been giving bottles of banana milk with sticky notes every day to her.

"If someone loves you, they'd never put themselves in a position to hurt you."

The story of a man who abandons his wife and son to be with his mistress in a foreign country. However, his world is turned upside down when he receives news that his son has fallen ill with a rare and life-threatening illness.

☁︎FUCKBOY | BFF!Yoongi X Reader | Side : JHS X Reader | Author :

Jiminttrash | 26 chapters | completed |

"It's me or that fuckboy, so choose."

"I'll make you feel so good, my pretty"

In which y/n is too innocent for the kinky bad boy Jeon Jungkook

When the campus heartthrob Jeon Jungkook who's actually a secret, self-professed romantic at heart, and the innocent country girl Kim Y/N, who's actually not as timid and docile as she seems, end up sharing a dorm for the semester, both discover that there's much more to their relationship than what meets the eyes.

they both loved him

but he only loved one of them.

♡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.♡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.♡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.♡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.♡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

OTHER POSTS:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2)

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colormepurplex2 · 2 years

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Work Hard, Play Harder | Rewards

↳ Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Strangers/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,449 ⚠️ Light sub/dom tones, spitting/spit kink in a mildly degrading way but also spicy, spanking, public sex, rough sex, cum eating, exhibitionism, throat fucking, hair pulling

⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to chapter list

"You have a game today, right?" Jules asks over slices of toast. Your morning routine helps ground you. Over the last two weeks, Yoongi has turned your world upside down. You now dread Fridays and have an endless supply of ibuprofen in your bag.

You wave a piece of buttered toast in the air toward her. "Yep. It'll be my first game on the bench."

"And he will be there?" She sneers a little when she says he. Jules quickly became president of the anti-Yoongi club after you filled her in on your sessions with him. She pouted for an entire day when you told her the TA was hot but definitely wasn't someone you could just give woo-woo eyes to. No, he's got a stick up his ass even farther than a professor. Though, you wouldn't believe it considering the way he moves. He's all elegance and grace when he's with you. Moves in a way that makes you envious, like his body was made to play basketball.

"Unfortunately," you grumble.

Jules huffs a sigh. "Well, maybe he won't be so bad if it's a game day. No training and all that, so no reason to be an asshole."

You scoff softly. "Not likely. He's still in charge of me on game days. Get's to tell me to jump and I have to ask how high." Again, if eye-rolling were a sport...

"I'll make brownies tonight," Jules offers with a smile, waggling her eyebrows.

"Fuck, Jules," you whine pathetically, "okay. But, please make some that aren't special. You and Ry can have all the fun and I'll just watch...enviously."

Jules bounces on her toes, oozing excitement. "Maybe Ry will get stoned enough to want to kiss it and make it better for you." She gives you a devilish smirk and bites her bottom lip.

It wouldn't be the first time your other best friend, Ryan, has offered to be a soothing balm for life's little shit parties. It's always been casual, with a mutual understanding and agreement. No feelings, just fucks. It's been a while, but maybe you do need to blow off some steam.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" You ask Jules with a laugh, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. "I'll catch you later. I expect piping hot brownies. Oh! And ice cream!" You add before tugging the door closed behind you.

You're feeling a little lighter, definitely in a bit of a better mood now. Pulling out your phone you open your text thread with Ryan and send him a winky face and cake emoji along with a time. He'll come over regardless of the emoji'd offers, simply because that's just how Ry is. Ryan's reply of the eyebrow raised emoji makes you laugh but before you can type back a reply of your own, your phone disappears.

Your head comes up, lips and tongue poised to give a lashing to whoever has decided to rain on your morning parade...but, it's Yoongi standing right in front of you, your phone in his hand. "You communicate through emojis? How juvenile."

"Give that back!" You lunge toward your phone but Yoongi just raises it up, far enough out of your reach that you would need to jump in order to try and grab it. He's not gargantuan, but he's taller than you and he's using that to his advantage now. "What the fuck is your problem?" You shove his shoulder and he stumbles back a few steps.

"Who said I have a problem?" He muses.

"Give it back," you demand again, holding out your hand palm up.

He brings his hand down and you think he's going to give the phone back to you but he slips it into the front pocket of his joggers instead. "How about," he pauses, closing the distance between you, forcing you to drop your hand or have it mashed against his chest, "you earn it back?"

You give him an incredulous look. "Earn it? It's my fucking phone you jackass, give it back!" He just smirks. The self-righteous prick! He better be glad he's good looking or you might introduce your fist to his face. You grit your teeth and a thought crosses your mind. "Fine, you want to be like that, fine."

He goes to turn, preparing to walk away with your phone still in his pocket when you make your move. You sling your left arm around his waist and cage him against you. Just as you hoped, he's caught off guard and you use that surprise to your advantage. With your right hand, you snake it between your bodies and shove it into his pocket. You hadn't accounted for your bodies being pressed together so tightly, so extracting your hand with the phone gripped in it isn't as easy as you thought it might be.

"If you wanted to touch me all you had to do was ask," his voice comes out in a low growl, eyes boring into yours. You're just about to abandon your phone when his arms come around you and pin you to him, too. You struggle against his hold, hand still deep inside his pocket. He grunts and you both freeze. Adrenaline is pumping and you can feel your own pulse in your temple. Your mind races, trying to explain away what exactly just happened, what you felt...surely there is something else...another explanation. Though, by the heat flaring through his eyes you know, there isn't. In all your wiggling against him, hand flailing around in his pocket, you 100% grazed along the side of his now evident erection.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you gasp, finally wrenching yourself from his arms, hand springing free from his pocket. Forget the phone, forget it. He can have it.

You can see his throat bob as he swallows. It takes tremendous willpower to not glance down as he adjusts the bottom of his hoodie to settle further down his hips. His eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth tugs up in a small smile. "I don't think you are sorry," he purrs. Yoongi pats his pocket, where your phone is located. "Be a good girl and show up to class a little early, I'll let you earn a few extra points towards getting this back."

He turns and leaves you there, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Your senses come whooshing back in, making you suddenly aware of your surroundings. You dart a look around, thankful not to see anyone else nearby. Your cheeks are flaming crimson and you can't seem to catch your breath, but you forge ahead and manage to make it to your first class of the day without any further incidents. 🏀🏀🏀

The day drags on and the closer you get to your research class the angrier you become. Without your phone, you haven't been able to reach out to Ryan or Jules to let them know about the run-in with Yoongi this morning. You can barely concentrate in your morning classes, but thankfully you have an extended break before your last class begins. You usually spend this time studying or grabbing lunch.

Today, however, you venture to the other side of campus in search of Jules. She doesn't have quite as long a break as you do, but you know you should be able to catch her coming out of her class soon. You're rounding the corner of the theatre building when you stop short, spotting a familiar figure up ahead coming right toward you, you curse and quickly back peddle. Why the hell is Yoongi on this side of campus?! Thankful to be wearing a watch, you check the time and know if you don't take this route to Jules class you'll miss her, all the other paths take too long.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, resigning to heading back toward the sports complex instead. Maybe if you show up early enough you can pummel Yoongi into a pulp before class begins. You push yourself to move faster, cursing Yoongi the whole way to the gym.

There is another class still going on inside the gym itself so you sit outside in the lobby and wait. Every little noise has you whipping your head around, hoping Yoongi doesn't come strolling in through one of the doors while you're sitting here. The last thing you want is to be faced with him again without a court under your feet. All your boasting thoughts earlier about beating the shit out of him have dwindled to just wanting to get your phone back and get through class so you can wallow on the couch with Jules and Ry later and maybe get a little stress relief without the laced brownies.

As soon as the class lets out of the gym you slip inside and settle on the bleachers near the door. It's still about thirty minutes or so before your class is scheduled to be in here. Professor Sumner and Dr. Rei will hopefully be arriving just before class, so they can get the research students from Rei's lab to help set up the monitors and other equipment they'll use for data collection.

You hear footsteps coming from the hallway, but it doesn't sound like enough steps to be a full class or even the research students from Dr. Rei's lab. Dropping your bag by your feet you lean out, trying to see if you can see whoever it is through the glass panes in the doors before they enter. The face that appears in the pane before the door begins to push open has your heart leaping into your throat.

The guy steps in and holds the door open, admitting another guy with Yoongi following. "Why are they here?"

Yoongi shrugs. "Moral support?"

"Give me my phone back," you deadpan.

"You'll get it back after the game." Yoongi nods towards the court. "We have about twenty minutes before Sumner and Rei show up, how about a warmup?"

"I don't need to warm up, I'm benched today, in case you've forgotten."

"Hmm, no, perhaps not." He gives you a once-over as his two friends take seats at the bottom of the bleachers. You've seen them before, hanging out with him...running shirtless with him. "But, you do need to change into your uniform at least."

Your brows pinch together and you glance down at your grey t-shirt and jeans. In all the fuss and anxiety over Yoongi, you completely forgot to change before coming to the gym. "Fuck you," you mumble, snatching up your bag and heading towards the door into the lady's locker room.

As you step past him, Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you up short, your chest bouncing against his. "Is that what you want?" He asks in a low tone. "To fuck me?"

The husk in his voice sends tingles down your spine. Yes, you do. You have for a very long time. For three years, in fact. But, you can't admit that, not so brazenly. Not to mention the complete brute he's been as your mock trainer. Though, you might like that a little more than you've let on. "Let go of me," the words come out soft and hooked on the end of a shudder.

He smiles, but it's not a sweet smile. No, it's a smile full of promises. Promises to deliver, to play ball...pun intended. "Go change." He releases your wrist and you stumble away, making a beeline for the locker room.

By the time you've conquered your rapid heart rate and put your uniform on, you can hear the distinct noise of the other students in the gym. All of the athlete students are warming up, doing stretches, practicing passes, and shooting. The research half of the class is mingling with Dr. Rei's group from his lab, working together to make sure the data equipment is all working as it should. You spot Yoongi talking with Professor Sumner and Dr. Rei. He extends a hand, gesturing to you as you exit the locker room and your eyes meet Sumner's. He nods, saying something to Yoongi that you're too far away to hear. Though, the delight that spreads across Yoongi's face has your lip curling in a sneer.

"You'll be benched, but you'll also be running data with Yoongi," Sumner explains as you approach them.

Dr. Rei claps you on the shoulder. "The probation element of this is going to be most helpful, I almost want to thank you for failing that test. This research is crucial for the future of this sports department." He nods to Sumner and moves off to speak with the people from his lab.

Sumner gives you a half-hearted smile. "Listen to your trainer, he'll be providing a full report tomorrow that will go towards your test grade." You swallow the tart reply forming on your tongue about how it's not fair that Yoongi's feedback gets to dictate your grade. But, you seem to be at his mercy unless you want to take the hit for the class or push back graduation by a semester. He turns away from you and addresses the whole gym. "Okay, everyone, let's get this game started. Jackson," he begins to walk away and gestures to the team captain, "you're on."

"Don't look so put out," Yoongi sidles up next to you and fingers the hem of the side of your jersey. "I promise to give Sumner nothing but a good report if you play nice."

You whirl on him, eyes blazing with irritation. "What are you getting at here, huh?" You take a step closer, coming toe to toe with him.

"As long as you work hard," he flicks the tip of your nose in a playful manner that has you seeing red. "We can play even harder." The low chuckle that spills from between his lips instantly flips a switch and you're seeing red with a whole different feeling.

"I don't want to play your games, asshole." You're lying through your teeth and he knows it. His chest grazes yours as he sucks in a breath to laugh.

"Careful, people are watching," he snarks softly, after his laugh tapers off, eyes darting over your shoulder.

You clear your throat, hastily step away, and give him your back. Sure enough, there are a lot of people trying to discreetly watch your and Yoongi's interaction. "Just tell me what to do, Yoongi, and stop dicking around."

Another soft chuckle comes from behind you. "You can start by sitting your mouthy little ass on the bench until the game begins." Of course, he speaks so low no one else can hear his lewd words. "Until everyone else is so distracted that they won't see me fucking you under the bleachers."

You gape at him, forcing your mind to actually wrap around what he just said. It's hard, real hard. You think you might just short circuit. Surely, he's joking. He's just trying to get a rise out of you...and it's working. "You're delusional."

He stops a few feet past you, casting you a glance over his shoulder. "I'm not the one that's been drooling over someone for the last three years." His eyes flick from your toes back up to your face. "Just the last two weeks."

Your cheeks burn. You're so warm you think you might pass out if you don't sit down. So, you park your dazed ass down on the bench along the side of the court and zone out as the game begins. On game days, the class runs a little longer to accommodate for the game itself and the data collection at the end of it. You're not sure how you're supposed to survive for an hour and a half being tormented and sexually frustrated by Yoongi. Because that's exactly what he's doing. The minute you sat down, you became intimately aware of the pooling arousal in your shorts. So much for not wanting to fuck him.

It's not until the whistle blows to signal the start of the first half that you realize what Yoongi had just admitted to you. He'd called you out on your pining for him, but had also offered a kernel of his own in that he's been the one drooling over you for the last two weeks. Sweat pricks along the nape of your neck. One of Rei's research collectors steps into your view and gives you a quizzical look.

"Are you okay?" They ask. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," you wheeze. "Uh, umm, is there anything I can do for you guys?" You're desperate for something to keep your mind off of Yoongi.

"Not just yet. After the game, though, for sure. We'll need some help making sure we collect all the vitals from the athletes, you can help with that," they offer with a smile. They nod toward Yoongi, who is standing at the other end of the court, "you should ask your trainer, I'm sure he has something you can be doing."

Your attention follows their nod, eyes landing on Yoongi. He's got his arms crossed over his chest, talking with Dr. Rei. Rei waves a dismissive hand and Yoongi smirks as the older man's attention goes to his research assistant on the other side of him. "Right. My trainer," you mumble to yourself, the research student already having moved further down the court.

Yoongi meets your eyes and he jerks his chin to the side, beckoning you over. You're tempted to stay right where you are, ignore him completely. But, your eyes flicker to Sumner and you know you have to play nice with Yoongi in order to receive a good report tomorrow. Fuck. You keep your attention swiveling between the game and Yoongi until you come up to him.

"Nervous?" He asks.

"What do I have to be nervous about?" You hiss under your breath.

He steps around you, putting his back to the court and essentially blocking you from everyone else except his friends who are still sitting on the bleachers behind you. "I meant what I said." His eyes flick over your shoulder, towards the bleachers, before coming back to yours. He's serious, he's fucking serious.

"Don't be ridiculous, we can't...I mean, it's not- why?" You fumble through your thoughts, searching his eyes for any glimmer of humor. There is none, all you see is pure unadulterated desire.

"Why?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Why not? It'll be fun, c'mon, come play with me." Yoongi toys with a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger. "I promise you'll have fun."

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. His eyes hone in on the action and you can see his eyes darker, pupils expanding. "Aren't you- won't we, umm, aren't you worried about getting caught?" You whisper, trying to take in calming breaths.

"Mmm, how cute, you're worried about someone seeing us? Don't worry, kitten, that's what my friends are for," he purrs, grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you along behind him.

You shoot a glance back towards the court over your shoulder. No one is so much as paying even the slightest bit of attention to you or Yoongi walking away. As you bring your attention back forward your eye catches Yoongi's two friends as they stand up from their seats at the bottom of the bleachers. You can feel their presence behind you as Yoongi continues pulling you along the side of the bleachers. Just as you think he's about to usher you through the double doors, he cuts a sharp right and tugs you into the darkness under the bleachers.

"Yoongi, seriously, we're going to get caught!" You whisper yell as you're dragged along. It's not completely dark back here, a little bit of light filters through the gaps between the rows of bleachers, but it's not nearly enough that you don't trust yourself to not trip over something. There is a myriad of crossed metal support poles and great steel beams, Yoongi moves through them with ease.

He stops, turning and pulling you up against him. "We'll only get caught if you let us." Yoongi is still gripping your arm with one hand, he brings the other up and cups the side of your face. His expression becomes serious for a moment. "Do you want this? If you don't you can leave and I'll still give Sumner a good report for you tomorrow, I promise. This is your choice." His offering and change in demeanor take you by surprise. All his taunting and pushing have been part of his act, but now he's being genuinely sincere. If you don't want this, he'll respect that. The corner of your mouth tugs up in a small smile realizing he's seeking your consent before doing anything you may not want.

"If we get caught, we'll both probably get in a lot of trouble...maybe even expelled. You'd risk that?" You ask softly, not meeting his eyes.

He chuckles. "That won't happen. But, yes."

"Okay, Yoongi, let's play."

A finger under your chin tilts your head back until you look up at him. "Good. Now, be a good little girl and say 'ahh'." You give him a quizzical look, confused. His hand splays out gripping your face, fingers digging into one cheek and thumb into the other until your lips are puckered open. He wrenches his hand, squeezing harder until your jaw opens under the pressure. "When I say to do something, you do it," he growls and his eyes flash. In one quick motion, he leans forward and spits into your mouth. You flinch as stray dots of his saliva pepper your lips, the bulk of the warm liquid hitting your tongue. His hand releases your cheeks, sliding back over your chin to press your mouth closed. "Swallow."

Your chest is heaving. It takes a few times but you finally gather enough moisture in your mouth, his included, to do as you're told. It's hard to tell whether you're turned on or feeling humiliated by his actions. You've never had someone actually spit in your mouth before. Before you can form words, his lips are slanting over yours. You feel his tongue slide across the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. As soon as you part your lips, he's invading your mouth. It's a bruising and all-consuming kiss that leaves you breathless when he finally pulls away.

"Fuck," you exhale in a rush.

"On your knees," he commands. You cast a glance behind you, barely able to make out the other students through the small gaps in the bleachers. With one last thought about getting caught, you drop to your knees in front of Yoongi, bringing your attention back to him. You come at eye level with the very prominent bulge in his joggers. Yoongi can see your hesitation, the way you awkwardly twiddle your fingers in front of you. "You can touch me, it's okay," he encourages in a soft tone.

He combs his fingers through your hair as you reach up and curl your fingers over the waistband of his pants. A subtle ache settles between your thighs, anticipation mounting. The gray material slides down easily, revealing tight black boxer briefs that are straining in the front. One more flick of your wrist and his thick cock is springing free. "Oh, shit," you whisper, eyes going wide as you take in just how big he is. There is a glistening bead of precum already forming at the tip. He's velvety smooth and warm under your hand as you glide your fingers along his length.

"Have a taste, kitten," Yoongi groans, gathering a handful of your hair. He doesn't push or tug on it, just uses it as a tether for now. A throaty groan escapes him as you lave your tongue across the broad crown, swirling in a quick succession of blistering strokes. You slip your free hand over the band of his pants, still hugging his legs mid-thigh, and gently cup his balls. Yoongi sucks in a breath at the touch, his stomach muscles contracting beneath his bulky hoodie. You let him slip past your lips, going as far as you can before your gag reflex is shoving you back. He adjusts his grip on your hair, gathering a second fistful. "Relax," he soothes, his voice turning your tense muscles into jelly.

Your jaw goes slack and you take a steadying breath through your nose as he begins to work his hips, slowly fucking into your mouth. His balls contract in your hand as you massage them, bringing out another throaty groan from him. It's hard to not let the mix of your saliva and his precum gather at the corners of your mouth. You can feel it start to dribble down your chin. After a few more languid thrusts, letting you get used to the motions, he picks up his rhythm. Your free hand fists into the fabric of his joggers as he pistons between your lips. It takes all of your concentration not to gag as tears prick the corners of your eyes and he enters into the back of your throat.

Just as you're starting to pant in semi-panicked breaths, Yoongi relents and pulls completely out of your mouth. With his cock comes a gushing mess of saliva and precum. He releases your hair and you surge up onto your feet, capturing his lips with yours, letting him taste himself on your tongue. Yoongi moans into your mouth, hands grappling with the band of your burgundy basketball shorts. "Fuck me," you pant, finally breaking away from the kiss. His lips are wet and puffy, kiss-swollen and perfect.

Yoongi spins you around, bringing your back hard against his front. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His top lip curls into a sexy sneer. He grips the front of your jersey and hauls it up over your head.

"Yes," you plead, pushing your ass back against his still-out cock. There is a crossing metal 'x' of support beams in front of you that you latch on to for support. It gives you the perfect leverage to arch your back and jut your ass out.

His breath is hot on your neck as his lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk out of here." The whispered words ring with promises.

The bratty response on your tongue withers away as Yoongi shoves down your shorts and panties. He knees apart your legs, grips your hip with one hand, and uses the other to guide himself to your aching core. He swears colorfully as he presses between your thighs, letting the tip of his cock slide through your gathered arousal.

"Yoongi," you moan his name as he begins to sink into you, one agonizing inch after another. It's almost too much, the fire that lances through your body as it flounders to accommodate his considerable size. Your chest heaves with short breaths. Tears, once again, burn at the corners of your eyes. You're about to cry out in protest but slinky fabric being shoved into your mouth cuts off the sound. Yoongi secures the ends of your crumpled jersey behind your head.

He halts his forward push for a moment. "Sorry, kitten, gotta keep the noise down. Pinch my thigh if it's too much, okay?" You take the momentary pause to assess your body. He's bigger than anything or anyone you've ever had before, but you can feel your body adjusting. The pain soothing into a heated pleasure with each passing second. You nod, tightening your grip on the metal bars. "Good girl," Yoongi praises in your ear. Yoongi slips a hand into your hair again, using the tension to turn your head slightly to the right. "Let's show my friends how good of a trainer I am." He chuckles as he feels your walls contract around him in response. The grip in your hair vanishes as he drops the hand to your other hip and grips tightly, sure to leave bruises.

Your eyes are wide as they take in his two friends standing just within the darkness under the bleachers. The dragon-eyed botany major and the slim-bodied performing arts major are faces you associate with Yoongi's bubble. Having them watch him fuck you, claim you, has a whole new wave of fire coursing through your veins. They take turns watching, switching from the court to you and Yoongi. Before you realize it, you're adding your own flare, putting on your own show. Loosening your grip with one hand, you bring it up and pull down the neck of your sports bra, exposing your breasts. Using deft fingers, you tweak your nipples, rolling and tugging them. You begin to meet Yoongi's thrusts, rocking back into them.

The world outside vanishes, as if there isn't a mock basketball game happening just twenty yards away. The crack of skin on skin brings you back to reality and has you squealing around the shirt gag in your mouth. The reaction is swiftly followed by panic as your eyes dart to the gaps between the bleachers because you can almost guarantee someone heard Yoongi's palm connecting with your bare asscheek. You throw a look over your shoulder at Yoongi as he continues to pound into you. Sweat-slicked hair clings to his forehead, his bottom lip is caught harshly between his teeth as his eyes are zeroed in on where your bodies connect. He seems completely oblivious to just how loud the sound is as he quickly lands another stinging spank on your other asscheek. Thankfully, this one is covered by the sound of a whistle blowing. That seems to drag Yoongi out of his single-mindedness.

His eyes flicker ahead of you, probably assessing the game's progress. Yoongi slows the momentum of his hips, rolling them against you in a way that grinds him deep. The jersey comes loose with one tug from Yoongi. You pull the fabric free, sucking in breaths of clean air. "Fuck, Yoongi." You hang your head, letting your chin drop to your chest for a moment as he leans against your back.

"Now, I'm going to make you cum." He says it more like a command than anything. One of his hands slips around your hip, dipping between your thighs in the front until his slender fingers find your clit. He begins smooth circles, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves until your toes curl in your sneakers. With his other hand, he grips your hair and pulls your head back, exposing the side of your neck to him. Using his tongue and teeth, he leaves nipping marks that he soothes with his tongue.

He's so meticulous with his attention, adding just the right amount of pressure. The mix of pleasure and pain has you squeezing your eyes closed and your walls gripping him. "Oh, fuck, I'm about to-" The hand that was in your hair muffles your words as he clamps it over your gaping mouth.

Your own name leaves Yoongi's lips, carried on a soft moan. Pleasure rips through you, your orgasm hitting so hard the vision behind your eyelids flickers. You can feel each spurt of warmth as Yoongi empties himself deep within your body. Suspended there, somewhere between coherent and not, Yoongi slowly withdraws from you. With gentle hands, he removes your stony grip from the metal bar and turns you to face him. He's equally as gentle as he fixes your bra and tugs the rumpled jersey back over your head. Your eyes meet his and you see a mischievous glint light within them. "Say 'ahh'," he repeats his command from earlier. Without hesitation this time, you open your mouth wide. You jump a little as you feel his hand between your thighs, dipping into you. Yoongi brings up cum covered fingers that glisten slightly in the dim lighting. He places them on your tongue and you automatically seal them in your mouth with your lips. There is a wicked fascination playing in his eyes, now, as you swirl your tongue around his fingers until he's slipping them back out of your mouth. He grips the sides of your shorts, gently pulling them back over your hips and settling them back in place. As he brings his hands to his own pants, you halt him, placing your hands over his. You brush them aside, righting his pants for him. You're gentle in tucking his cock back in his pants, doing your best to not get any of the drying cum still coating it, onto the outside of his pants.

"Good game," you offer in a soft but playful tone.

Yoongi just suppresses a snort, rubbing his jaw with a smile tugging at his lips. "I expect you to perform just as well during our next session." His mouth finally pulls into a full-on grin. His arms band around your waist, hauling you against him. "As long as you still want to play."

So, this is actually a thing...Yoongi wants to continue playing. The thought sends a thrill slithering down your spine.

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#bts #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts angst #bts smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts strangers to lovers #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts non idol au #bts college au #yoongi fanfic #ta yoongi #student reader #bangtanwritershq #yoongi basketball #bts sports au

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namjoonscoffeeshop · 2 months

Text

DEEP | HAND BOOK

Deep | M.YG ✧ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader ✧ warning(s): explicit language, oral sex[female/male receiving], unprotected sex(USE PROTECTION),spanking ✧ genre: angst,fluff,smut,fake dating au,contract ✧ synopsis; you're in love with your childhood friend but he does not see you more than just a friend. One day you ask him to be more than just friends, he agrees. a/n: comment to be in permanent taglist of main story

Where it started... Min yoongi's & Y/n's mother met in orientation in their freshman year in university. They became best friends and stayed together even after university. Y/n's father was actually a old friend of Yoongi's mom and that's how they met. tens years after graduating they both became pregnant around the same time, resulting in them having their babies in the same month. being the best friends they are, they promised to raise their kids together and to (force, cuz wouldn't you want your kids to be best friends :))) ) make sure they become best friends.

Min Yoongi

Birthday: March 9th 1993 Age: 23 Occupation/lives: full time student, lives next door to Y/n hobbies: writing, sleeping, hooking up, watching over y/n, hanging out with y/n, hanging out with his friends. talents: piano prodigy, poetry, guitar, wood working, basketball (ask y/n) passion/dream: music, become a producer. favorite foods: anything y/n cooks, his mothers/y/n's mother cooking favorite color: white spirit animal: a black cat major: Business management, minor: music technology best friends(who he considers): Jin, Namjoon, and hoseok friend group: Jin, Namjoon, hoseok, jimin, taehyung, jungkook, y/n, etc relationship status: single Y/n (fake dating), fuck buddies with y/n first love: y/n (she doesn't know) Things he's come to like cause of y/n: kissing, he's addicated to the taste of her lips even if the kiss leads to nothing more than just a make out session he is satisfied with just kissing, tongues sliding together as you both messily suck, exchanging breaths. it's heaven on earth for him. (will be updated) background: Min yoongi is a only child, his father is a successful entrepreneur with a 1.6 million dollar company. His mother is a retired teacher. He has a business management degree due to being the heir to his fathers company, chose to get a minor in music technology because of his passion in music.

Y/N

birthday: March 11th 1993 Age: 23 occupation/lives: full-time student, lives next to yoongi hobbies: reading, writing, hanging out with yoongi,(window) shopping, karaoke with jihye, baking, cooking, swimming. talents: baking, cooking, calligraphy. passion/dream: books, her dream is to open a cafe which is also a book store. favorite foods: yoongi's cooking favorite color: blue sprit animal: butterfly (specifically the emperor butterfly) major: business management, minor in writing best friends: Yoongi, Jihye, junho friend group: jihye, abby, serena, iseul, hana,nari relationship status: momentarily taken, fuck buddies with yoongi first love: yoongi (he knows)background: y/n, only child. Her parents are both writers who publish children and university course books. y/n's mother met her husband through her best friend who was looking for a fellow writer to proof-read a project he was working on. y/n chose business management as her major due to wanting to open a cafe that is also a book store in the future. she has a minor in writing since she was stuck in between both degrees until yoongi convinced her to just take writing as a minor instead of giving it up.

Jeon Jungkook

Birthday: September 1st 1997 age: 20 occupation/lives: full-time student, has his own apartment hobbies: drawing/painting, guitar, boxing, taekwondo, gaming, photography, video editing, swimming, tattoo artist talents: boxing, painting/drawing, he drew every tattoo thats on his body passion/dream: - major: fine arts in film and photography best friends: Taehyung and jimin friend group: Jin, namjoon, hoseok, yoongi, jimin, taehyung, eunwoo relationship status: single first love: - background: - (will be updated in future)

Friends Kim namjoon(22)/major: music technology, minor in writing Kim seokjin(24)/graduated: film and visual arts, occupation: acting Jung hoseok(22)/major: fine arts (specialied in dance) Park jimin(21)/major: fine arts (specialized in dance) Kim taehyung(21)/ major: film and visual arts, minor in photography

RULES

1. Once we start this relationship, only I'm (yoongi) allowed to stop it.

2. We aren't allowed to see anyone else

3. we will always use condoms, we will only have raw sex once

4. finish inside, only once

5. we will have sex twice a week, and if both parties are up for it then the weekend as well

6. the moment I (yoongi) call this off, we will never talk again

7. We will never have drunk sex, if yoongi can help it

read story here ask the characters questions/or questions about them/the story here and they will be answered in a Q/A.

taglist: @baechugff @yoongibaybee , @gimeow , @pjmsneverland , @eissenheimer, @taetaechim7 , @acquiescence804 ,@seoullove96 , @thetaehyungstan , @waitaminswife , @keshiadeija , @camelia122344 , @gaby-93 , @amarawayne

#bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #min yoongi smut #jungkook smut #min yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #min yoongi fanfic #bts au #fake dating au #contract au #yoongi fic #M.YG/Deep #namjoonscoffeeshop

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hamsterclaw · 1 year

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Taehyung's your roommate - you get along fine, you do your own thing and stay out of each others' way. Your relationship works perfectly the way it is, you don't want or need anything more out of it.

Pairing: Taehyung x F! reader, Yoongi x F! reader

Word count: 11k

Genre: College AU, smut

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, swearing

You’re standing in a corner of the kitchen of the house party you’re at with your roommate Taehyung.

You’re aware of the looks you’re attracting. Taehyung’s hot when he’s lounging around half-dressed in your living room, but fully dressed? When he’s made an effort?

He’s devastating.

Dark hair, dark brows often drawn together when he’s looking at someone, like they’re a puzzle he’s dying to work out, lips curled in a smirk.

He dresses carefully, even for hastily thrown together house parties, but even the loosest of shirts don’t hide his broad shoulders, the lines of his torso tapering to hips that he knows how to move.

Your roommate’s a sexy man.

You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, especially today, when your hair’s doing what you want it to and your eyeliner’s sharp enough to cut glass.

Together, you draw attention, and you’ve taken full advantage of it in the past.

Your shared apartment with Taehyung has two bedrooms, set on opposite ends of a hallway with your living room in between, which is just as well. You’ve got no desire to hear your sexy roommate’s pillow talk, nor for him to hear you getting off with your man of choice.

Taehyung sips his drink and tilts his head at you.

‘I might go early,’ he tells you. ‘I haven’t even started Monday’s assignment.’

‘You’ve got the weekend,’ you say, easy.

‘I don’t want to lose tomorrow too,’ he says, shrugging. ‘You don’t need me, anyway.’

You’re distracted by the arrival of the basketball team. ‘Hmm?’

Taehyung dips close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. You lean back, startled. You rarely touch each other, you know some friends do but you’re not a touchy person and you didn’t think Taehyung was either.

‘Now that I have your attention,’ he says pointedly, rolling his eyes, ‘I’m gonna go. Say ‘hi’ to Yoongi for me. Don’t fuck in communal spaces.’

‘Stay for a bit,’ you plead, grabbing his shirt as he turns away.

Taehyung looks down at your hand. ‘Pick up brunch for us tomorrow and I’ll wing you.’

‘Deal,’ you say.

You both turn as you’re approached by Kim Namjoon, basketball captain and the most promiscuous man you know.

‘Hey,’ he says, leaning against the counter, dimpling at you.

‘Hi Namjoon,’ you say.

Taehyung raises a brow as Namjoon acts like he’s interested in your drink.

You’re about to offer Namjoon a sip when there’s a huff of breath, then a gravelly voice.

‘Y/N, Tae,’ Min Yoongi says, nodding to both of you in greeting.

‘Hi Yoongi,’ you say. You smile at him, and he gives you a long look that makes you feel flushed, warm.

Kim Namjoon captains the basketball team, but Yoongi’s the only person you ever watch on the rare occasion you find yourself at a game.

He’s ethereal, with his beautiful skin and dark eyes, and his hands and forearms have featured in all your nastiest fantasies.

You have needs, and tonight, you want Yoongi to see to them.

Taehyung’s already hustling Namjoon away, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder as he leaves you with Yoongi.

Yoongi watches you take a sip of your drink.

‘Want some?’ you ask, tipping your plastic cup towards him.

Yoongi says, cool, so confident you can already feel yourself melting at his feet, ‘yeah.’

He downs what's in your cup and sets it down on the counter.

‘Let me get you a better drink,’ he says, hanging his head, looking up at you, lips curled in a smirk.

You wonder what his lips might feel like on you.

‘I have wine at mine,’ you say, bold.

He keeps looking at you, smile playing on his lips.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you say.

Yoongi tilts his head. ‘Lead the way.’

***

Yoongi’s got your skirt hiked up, panties by your ankles, and his mouth on your cunt.

He licks another stripe along your folds, slow, deliberate.

You reach up, grasp his forearm.

He snickers, following it up with another long slow lick.

‘You want my fingers?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you plead. ‘Want you.’

You’re arched back against your headboard, trying not to scream when there’s a knock at your door.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung calls through the door. ‘You ok?’

Yoongi looks up from where he’s poised over your cunt, sees your hands covering your own mouth.

‘We’re good, bro,’ he answers, sliding his fingers into you.

Your mouth opens to moan, and Yoongi’s other hand comes up to cover your mouth.

Taehyung knocks again, more insistent this time.

‘I want to hear you, Y/N. Are you all right?’

Yoongi’s fingers start moving in and out of you as he shrugs and uncovers your mouth.

‘Yeah,’ you say, trying not to moan again. ‘I’m good, Tae, thanks for checking.’

Taehyung says, ‘Yeah. I’m in my room if you need anything.’

‘Damn,’ Yoongi murmurs as you hear Taehyung walking away. ‘You guys look out for each other like that a lot?’

You whimper as Yoongi shoves his jeans down, moves on top of you.

‘Can’t be too careful,’ you say, breathless.

Yoongi’s unrolling a condom on his pretty dick, nudging into you slowly.

He groans as he eases into you, letting out a breath when he’s all the way in.

You clench around him helplessly, the stretch of him’s so damn good you could come from this alone.

Yoongi rolls his hips, grinding, hitting you so deep you see stars behind your eyelids every time he thrusts.

‘You good?’ he asks. He’s genuinely waiting for an answer, and your heart flutters a little when you realise.

‘Yeah,’ you affirm, smiling up at him.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, mutters something that sounds like ‘so fucking pretty’, that you would ask him to repeat if he wasn’t fucking you so well.

You cry his name as you come, tightening around his cock.

‘Good girl,’ praises Yoongi, the gravel in his voice somehow both sexy and soothing.

His thrusts slow, his rhythm changes, and he groans ‘baby, fuck, fuck!’ as he comes.

He pulls out, ties off the condom and tosses it with a careless flick into your bin.

‘All in the wrist,’ you comment.

Yoongi, now flat on his back on your bed, arm over his face, chuckles.

‘You’re an idiot.’

Then, he sits up, scanning your face like he’s worried he’s upset you.

‘I’m just teasing you,’ he tells you.

You’re already getting up to use the bathroom.

‘I know, Yoongi,’ you reply. ‘Want some water?’

‘I should get going,’ he says.

You shrug. ‘You can stay if you want.’

‘I’ve got basketball in the morning,’ he replies.

‘Sure,’ you say.

You walk him out, bid him goodbye at the door.

There’s crockery rattling in the kitchen, Taehyung’s smoky tenor caressing the notes of a jazz classic.

You stop in the doorway to listen.

Taehyung’s got a stunning voice, the first time you came back early from classes and heard him, you’d thought it was a recording.

He turns his head, spots you, doesn’t miss a beat.

You pour yourself a glass of water and take a seat at the kitchen counter.

Without asking, Taehyung lays a bowl in front of you, chopsticks together angled at a skew.

‘Thanks,’ you say, gratefully.

You eat quietly as Taehyung sings. The song segues into another, words crooned low over the tinkling of an accompanying piano.

He joins you at the counter eventually with his own bowl.

‘You good?’ he asks.

You have a sudden flashback to Yoongi buried inside you, asking the same.

You give Taehyung a half-smile.

‘Yeah good.’

‘How come Yoongi didn’t stay?’ Taehyung asks.

‘He said he had basketball in the morning,’ you reply.

You don’t want it to sting but it does.

Taehyung shrugs. ‘Maybe you’re just not that interesting out of bed,’ he says, deadpan.

‘Yeah,’ you agree, just as deadpan.

‘It’s probably more that he’s an idiot,’ Taehyung continues.

You shrug.

‘Wanna watch TV, Tae?’

‘Yeah. Go set it up and I’ll bring us ice cream.’

You’re curled up in your corner of the couch, blanket pulled over you, when Taehyung enters.

He hands you a tub and a spoon and settles in his corner.

‘Are you really ok?’ he asks, not looking at you.

‘Yeah.’

You wait for him to say something else, but he just hums.

Predictably, he’s asleep before the opening credits have even finished, but his presence is comforting all the same.

***

You’re at the diner with Taehyung the next morning when he says, ‘don’t look now, your fuckboi’s here with his teammates.’

You grimace. ‘Think they might not see us?’

Taehyung says, ‘he’s heading over here.’

You don’t have time to ask who before Min Yoongi’s standing by your booth.

‘Hey,’ he says, tilting his head at you.

You smile at him, grateful you’d at least taken the time to do your skincare this morning before coming out.

‘Hey Yoongi.’

‘Can I get your number?’ he asks.

You reel off your digits, voice steady even though your heart’s beating triple speed.

‘Ok,’ Yoongi says. The tip of his tongue pokes through his lips briefly, and your phone vibrates in your pocket.

‘Can I call you later?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Sure,’ you say, light, casual.

Yoongi nods at Taehyung, and then he’s off.

You pick up a forkful of pancakes to give your hands something to do.

‘Guess you’re not that uninteresting after all,’ Taehyung teases.

‘Yeah, and guess he’s not that much of an idiot,’ you agree.

Taehyung laughs. ‘At least now you can stop sulking.’

You’d deny you were ever sulking but Taehyung knows you too well.

***

It’s another Friday night, and you have a date with Yoongi. It’s only a movie, but he’s picking you up and you’re excited and there’s that.

You’re pouring yourself a glass of water in the kitchen when Taehyung walks in.

‘Wow,’ you say, impressed.

Your roommate’s sharply styled tonight, his hair away from his face, shirt falling perfectly against his lean frame. The chain around his neck glints in the light as he moves. He smells good, fresh.

‘Wow yourself,’ he replies. ‘Date with Yoongi?’

‘Going to the movies,’ you tell him. ‘You?’

‘I’ve got a dinner date,’ he says. ‘We’ll probably come back here after.’

‘I’ll be out late,’ you say. ‘No sex in communal spaces.’

Taehyung laughs at the mantra you’ve got into the habit of tossing at each other instead of a goodbye, and waves as he leaves.

When the doorbell rings you hurry to open it.

Yoongi’s standing in your doorway, all longish dark hair and silver earrings, smile crooked.

‘Hey pretty girl,’ he says, like he practised it, and butterflies flutter in your stomach anyway, because you’ve always been a sucker for a compliment from a gorgeous guy.

‘Hey,’ you say. You grab your keys off the hall table and step out. He doesn’t move back like you expected him to, so you end up pressed against him as you shut the door behind you.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow.

He smirks at you.

‘I’d like popcorn,’ you say.

Yoongi slips his arm around your shoulders.

‘Yeah? I’ll get you some,’ he promises.

You lean into his chest as you head for the lifts.

‘I heard the movie’s scary,’ he says, as you get into the lift. ‘Are you gonna hold my hand?’

‘I like horror movies,’ you tell him.

‘But what about me? I might get scared,’ he says.

‘Don’t worry, I can hold your hand at the scary parts.’

Yoongi says, ‘yeah?’

‘Promise,’ you say.

Yoongi grins at you. ‘We’d better practice holding hands now.’

You have to laugh at his expression. You push at his chest lightly, but when his hand comes up to grasp yours, you don’t pull away.

***

By the time you and Yoongi get back from the movie, the living room is dark but the kitchen light’s on.

‘Want a drink?’ you offer. ‘I have beer.’

You enter the kitchen and are confronted with your roommate’s bare chest, sweats slung low around his hips.

He mumbles a greeting, turns to grab a cup, revealing scratch marks all over his back.

‘Fuck, are you ok? Your back.’

Taehyung’s grin is boxy, wide, reminding you why he has the reputation he has around campus.

He passes you a couple beers, cracks one open for himself.

‘Gigi’s still here,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Brunch?’

‘Brunch,’ you agree.

He tilts his beer at you in a toast, and saunters out.

You can hear him greeting Yoongi as he heads back to his room.

Yoongi raises a brow at you. ‘Is he high?’

‘Possibly,’ you reply. ‘Are you still scared from the movie? Do I need to hold your hand again?’

Yoongi nods so seriously you’re almost fooled.

He takes your hand and tugs you into your room, onto your bed.

‘What should we do now?’ you ask, feigning innocence.

Yoongi laughs, tugs gently at the strap of your dress with his teeth.

He pulls down, letting the strap fall off your shoulder, exposing the top of your left breast.

He brushes his lips over your rounded flesh, tongue flicking between to lick, and you shiver.

‘Cold?’ Yoongi asks, watching you intently as he blows over your exposed nipple.

You can’t stop the moan from spilling out as he flicks your nipple with his tongue.

Yoongi’s breath is warm on your skin, like his palm as he slides it over your bare thigh, under your skirt.

The tips of his long fingers brush between your legs, and you let out an involuntary hum.

‘Yeah, you’re cold,’ Yoongi says, confident, decisive.

He leans over you, pushing you down on the bed under him. ‘Come on, I’ll warm you up.’

Fuck, he does.

***

You and Taehyung are halfway through your breakfast plates at the diner before you even speak to each other.

‘If this place ever closes we’ll be fucked,’ Taehyung says, mouth full.

‘You’ll be fucking regardless,’ you say, unable to resist. ‘But yeah, we need this place to stay open.’

‘Why does fucking make me so hungry?’ wonders Taehyung. ‘I don’t feel this hungry after the gym.’

You snort. ‘When do you ever go to the gym?’

‘Jungkook’s been dragging me there.’

Taehyung flexes his arm. ‘See? This definition isn’t just my natural shape.’

You pretend to squint. ‘What? You mean being a noodle-armed weakling isn’t natural to you?’

Taehyung looks at you, mouth in a straight line. ‘You mean being a short ass isn’t natural to you?’

‘Ha ha ha ha,’ you scowl.

‘Gigi says she likes your style,’ Taehyung says, shoving another forkful of sausage into his mouth, chewing open-mouthed.

‘Yeah? I like hers too, apart from her taste in fuckbuddies,’ you retort.

‘She says you have a great ass.’

‘Oh my god, can you shut up and let me eat in peace,’ you grumble.

‘Does Yoongi say anything about me?’ Taehyung asks.

‘Yeah, he’s always asking if you’re high.’

Taehyung snorts. ‘Rich coming from a scrappy athlete with a bad reputation.’

‘He doesn’t have a bad reputation.’

‘Please. If he wasn’t the biggest fuckboy around you wouldn’t even be interested.’

‘What? I don’t just date fuckboys,’ you protest, weakly, trying to remember the last boy you actually dated.

‘You live with me,’ Taehyung reminds you, rolling his eyes.

‘You don’t have a bad reputa –’

You cut yourself off midsentence. ‘Yeah ok. And?’

‘And nothing. I like living with you. You’re easy.’

Your eyebrows lift and you toss a napkin at him.

‘Easy to live with,’ Taehyung amends.

He laughs. ‘Can you get the waitress’ attention, we’re gonna need more potato waffles.’

‘Get her yourself,’ you say.

‘Don’t be mad,’ Taehyung coaxes. ‘I’m easy too.’

You look at the way he’s sitting, leaning back, legs spread wide in his grey sweats, the neck of his t-shirt so wide you can see all of his collarbones, and your fit of pique fades.

‘I like living with you too,’ you say.

You tip your juice towards him, and he brings his own drink forward to toast.

‘To cheap breakfasts,’ he says.

‘And easy lays,’ you reply.

Taehyung’s grin flashes at you, the wide boxy grin he reserves for when he’s genuinely amused, and you can’t help but smile back.

***

The thud that comes from the living room is muffled, like whoever made it is trying to be quiet.

You’re only half awake, and falling back asleep again when you hear another sound, the thump of a knee against the edge of the sofa.

You pick up your phone, squinting at the time.

3am.

You sit up.

‘What are you doing, Tae?’ you mutter to yourself, getting up.

You stumble to the living room, eyes trying to adjust to the dark.

You can see him standing in the middle of the living room, and have a sense of unreality when you can hear a key in the front door.

Realisation pierces through you, and you turn back to the intruder in your living room.

Your mouth opens, and the intruder flees, heading straight for your balcony doors, which you’ve just noticed, are ajar.

Taehyung walks in, startled to see you.

‘Tae! There’s a man in our apartment!’ you blurt out.

Taehyung and you rush for the balcony but by the time you get there there’s no trace of the man.

‘Shit, the lock’s broken,’ Taehyung says.

‘I’m gonna call the police,’ you tell him.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’

Taehyung takes your arm.

‘Shit Tae, you smell like —’

Taehyung grimaces. ‘Yeah, sorry. The guys were going hard tonight.’

By the time you’ve made your report, Taehyung’s showered and made you both tea.

‘I don’t think anything’s missing, all our stuff’s still here,’ you say.

‘Yeah,’ Taehyung agrees. He shivers. ‘Sorry I wasn’t here.’

‘Fuck, that was scary,’ you say. Now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, you’re starting to feel sleepy.

You glance at the balcony door. ‘What are we going to do about that?’

‘We should set a trap,’ Taehyung says, authoritatively.

You glare at him. ‘Are you still high?’

‘Shit, not when you look at me like that,’ Taehyung replies.

You sigh. ‘Go to bed, Tae.’

‘No, I can fix it,’ Taehyung insists. He goes to his room, and is gone for so long you’re about to go and check on him when he returns.

‘What the fuck, Tae?’

Taehyung just raises an eyebrow at you.

He walks over to the balcony doors, snaps them closed, and ties the handles together with the red silk ties he came out with, deftly.

He tests the knots with an expertise you’re almost afraid to ask how he acquired.

You find yourself smiling, reluctantly, for the first time since you woke up.

‘Fucking hell, Kim Taehyung.’

Taehyung turns to you, completely straight-faced, apart from a tell-tale quiver of his lips.

‘I have some left over,’ he tells you, feigning innocence.

‘Fucking hell, Kim Taehyung.’

‘If you’re not feeling safe, I can sleep in your room with you, for tonight,’ he offers.

‘Get the fuck out, Tae.’

‘I don’t have to bring my ropes.’

‘Shibari.’

‘Actually, it’s Kinbaku.’

Taehyung drops the ties on the couch and walks carefully around it.

He puts a hand on your back. ‘Come on. I’ll walk you to your room, ok?’

Against your better judgement, you let him lead you to your bedroom.

Taehyung pulls the covers back, helps you get settled in and rearranges them over you.

Fully dressed, he lies on top of the covers next to you.

‘Go to sleep,’ he says, rolling on his back, closing his eyes.

His quiet, easy breathing fills the silence, and before you know it, you’re asleep.

***

The sun’s setting, so you go out on your balcony to watch. It’s chilly still but more spring than winter.

Your heels rattle against the grate as you make your way to one of the garden chairs you and Tae picked up at the flea market when you first moved in together.

Yoongi’s coming to pick you up in a half hour, a proper date you think, you’re going to pick up food together before a house party.

The front door to the apartment opens, you can hear Taehyung humming to himself.

A moment later he’s peering out the balcony doors at you.

‘You look nice,’ he tells you.

You’re surprised by his compliment. ‘Thanks Tae Tae.’

‘Hot date with a fuckboy?’ Taehyung asks. He takes the seat across the balcony from you, long legs stretching out in between. He tilts his face up to the setting sun, and for a moment you admire the beauty of his profile, cast in rosy golds and brilliant orange.

Your roommate is genuinely one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever met.

You realise he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for you to say something.

‘Sorry,’ you say, smiling. ‘I got distracted by how pretty you look.’

Taehyung snorts. ‘You look pretty too. Your legs look as long as mine in those heels.’

You scoff. ‘Yeah, I’m as tall as you.’

You stand, and Taehyung stands too.

For a moment you look up at his face.

Your hand reaches up to touch his shoulder but you veer off at the last minute.

You never touch him, really, but for some reason you want to, now.

Taehyung’s standing with his hands behind his back, face tilted down to yours.

His voice, when he says your name, is that low baritone you hear rumbling though the walls sometimes when he has someone in the bedroom with him.

More vibration than words.

Taehyung’s gaze is intent on you.

The doorbell buzzes, and you step back, spell broken.

‘It’s probably Yoongi. Have a good night, Tae Tae.’

He’s already turning away.

***

Your friend Dahyun nudges you at the house party you ended up at.

‘How are things with Yoongi?’

You shrug. ‘We’re still seeing each other. We just went to dinner before this.’

‘He took you to dinner? Good Christ, you’re practically married,’ Dahyun teases.

‘Got me dessert and everything,’ you deadpan.

She laughs.

‘How’s Hobi?’ you ask.

‘He’s good,’ Dahyun replies.

Dahyun’s been dating Hoseok on and off since first year. Personally, you’ve always liked him, he’s always treated her well and he’s always seemed kind hearted to you.

Speak of the devil.

Hoseok walks up to Dahyun and slides his arm around her waist with a possessiveness that makes you feel a pang of envy.

You can’t imagine Yoongi ever doing that to you.

It’s not that you don’t think he’d be proud to be seen with you, but he’s just not the kind of guy who’d want people to know his business.

You sip your drink as Hobi and Dahyun excuse themselves, probably to go make out in a dark corner.

It’s only when you get to the last mouthful that you realise how strong your drink is.

Shit. Why did you decide to wear these heels?

You teeter your way to the kitchen and nearly trip on a step.

There’s a warm hand on your arm, steadying you, Yoongi’s voice in your ear.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you reply.

‘I’m gonna go grab some food with Jimin and Namjoon, Jimin’s going through some shit.’

It takes you a moment to understand.

‘Oh, ok. Sure.’

‘Can you get back home ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Sure.’

Yoongi looks at you a moment longer.

‘I saw Taehyung here earlier, want me to see if I can find him for you?’

You straighten up. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’

Yoongi’s still got his eyes on your face. You’re glad it’s dark enough to hide how warm your face is.

You wave a hand, careless. ‘Don’t baby me, Yoongi.’

Yoongi snorts, but he leaves, casting a final glance at you before he exits with Jimin.

You wait a beat, then decide to look around for your friends.

You wander through the living room, spotting Hoseok and Dahyun cuddled up on one of the couches.

Near the stairs you spot Taehyung, leaning against the wall with a very tall girl with gorgeous hair draped over him.

He sees you, tilts his chin, his dark brows in a straight line, his expression unreadable.

You’re heading over to him when the girl undrapes herself and slinks towards the bathroom.

You stumble a little, and Taehyung reaches out to steady you.

‘Tipsy?’ he teases.

‘A bit,’ you confess. You slump against the wall next to him, trying to ignore the way the room’s spinning lazily.

‘I’m going home,’ you tell Taehyung.

‘Sure. Who’s taking you?’ Taehyung asks.

‘Taxi,’ you reply, waving your phone.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. ‘You can barely stand. Here, wait a bit, Tina and I will go with you.’

He pushes off the wall. ‘Stay here.’

‘Nah, I’m ok,’ you reply.

Taehyung just gives you a look.

‘I’m getting Tina, wait here.’

As soon as he disappears you look down at your phone. The screen’s all blurry. You swipe at it and give up, deciding it’s not your fault the screen’s wavy and swirly.

Shit.

You press back against the wall as some tall guy walks past.

You vaguely recognise him as one of Yoongi’s teammates. Wonho?

He stops next to you.

‘Hey, you’re Y/N, right?’

His voice is deep, not as deep as Yoongi’s or even Taehyung’s, but it’s got a pleasing mellow tone to it you like.

‘Yep,’ you say. You wish you could see his face better, but your eyes don’t seem to be working that well right now.

‘I like your dress,’ he says.

‘I don’t think it comes in your size,’ you tell him.

He laughs. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Nah, I’m good,’ you say.

‘Want to sit with me for a bit?’ he asks, leaning so close you can smell his shampoo. He smells good, but you think you’ve had enough.

Time to go home.

‘I can’t sit in this dress,’ you inform him. ‘It’s too short.’

‘Shit, come and sit with me, I won’t look.’

He sounds like he’s flirting but you’re not really interested right now.

‘My roommate’s here. I need to find him,’ you say, apologetic.

You push off the wall and go off to search for Taehyung.

You just catch sight of him being dragged upstairs.

Damn.

Sighing, you try and pull out your phone, only to not be able to find it.

Double damn.

You find yourself at the door of the house, and decide there’s nothing for it.

You’re going to have to walk home.

***

It’s still dark by the time you trudge the last few blocks home.

You’ve sobered up some from walking around in the early morning chill, at least the pavement isn’t wavy anymore.

You pull your key out of your bag with cold hands, and are trying to get your fingers to work enough to unlock the door, when it opens on its own.

‘What the fuck!’ Taehyung says. He grabs your arm and drags you inside.

You stare at him, uncomprehending.

‘Where the fuck were you?’ Taehyung asks.

You realise he’s angry.

‘Uh?’ you mumble unintelligently.

You lean down to undo your heels and nearly tip over.

Taehyung catches you, helps you straighten up.

‘You walked home like this? Are you stupid?’

You’re hurt at his tone.

‘What do you want, Tae?’ you ask tiredly.

You sit on the floor and start unbuckling your heels.

God, you’re sure they weren’t this difficult to get on.

Taehyung makes an impatient sound and pushes your hands away.

You sit as he undoes your heels and pulls them off.

‘I told you to wait for me,’ he scolds.

You glare at him, hoping the feeling returns to your feet soon so you can get up.

‘It’s dangerous to walk alone —- wait! Where the fuck are you going?’

You turn your head to look at him as you crawl away.

‘Stop scolding me, my head hurts,’ you complain.

Taehyung sighs.

Then he holds out a hand. ‘Come on, I’ll help you into bed.’

You give him your hand and nearly fall onto your face again.

Taehyung swears, then pulls you up.

He’s stronger than he looks. Maybe he wasn’t lying about going to the gym with JK.

You mull this over as he helps you to your bedroom.

Taehyung deposits you on the bed. ‘Stay here.’

‘Ugh, get out,’ you complain as he heads for your dresser.

Taehyung rummages through your top drawer and turns to you, holding out a soft tee.

As he walks towards you there’s a soft thud on the carpet.

You give him your best innocent look as your purple bullet vibrator rolls on the floor towards you, stopping at the foot of your bed.

Taehyung ignores it and hands you the tee. ‘Can you get changed on your own?’

You shrug.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Get changed. I’m gonna bring you some water.’

You decide it’s not worth the energy arguing with him.

By the time Taehyung comes back with a glass of water, you’re in bed.

He sits on the covers next to you and hands you your phone.

‘Where did you get this?’ you ask.

‘Some dude, Wonho had it,’ Taehyung says. He runs a hand over his face. ‘Fuck! I nearly got into a fight with him, I thought he’d done something to you.’

This is news to you.

You frown at Taehyung. ‘I saw you going upstairs with Tina.’

‘Fuck that, you’re drunk as fuck, you should have waited for me,’ Taehyung scolds. ‘I was only a few minutes.’

‘Two minute man?’ you ask. For some reason this strikes you as hilarious.

‘Obviously,’ Taehyung says, like he’s reaching the end of his patience, ‘Tina and I didn’t fuck because I l knew you were waiting for me.’

You’re still giggling.

Taehyung stares at you, then he scoffs. ‘Are you hungry? I can fix us ramdon.’

You fall asleep considering his offer.

***

You’re looking up train times when there’s a knock on your door.

Taehyung pokes his head in.

‘Going somewhere?’ he asks, raising a brow at your overnight bag.

‘It’s my dad,’ you tell him. ‘My mom called, he’s in the hospital.’

‘Shit,’ Taehyung says. ‘Is he ok?’

Concern’s written all over his face as he steps further into your room.

‘He’s had a heart attack,’ you say.

You’re trying to stay calm but it’s hard, your nerves have been shot since your mom called.

‘Can you drive me to the train station?’ you ask.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Taehyung says instantly. ‘Give me five and I’ll take you.’

Taehyung loads your bag into the trunk along with his and gets into the car.

‘What’s the hospital address?’ he asks.

You stare at him blankly. ‘Tae, it’s hours away.’

‘So I’ll drive you, you shouldn’t be alone,’ Taehyung tells you. He looks oddly serious.

‘Thanks,’ you say finally.

Taehyung just nods. ‘Get your belt on.’

You lean back in your chair as he pulls out of the space.

Outside, a light rain starts to fall.

***

It’s still raining when you get back home after seeing your dad at the hospital.

Your mom fusses over you and Taehyung, probably because of how incredibly kind he’d been at the hospital.

Your roommate’s showing a side to him you’ve never seen before.

You’ve seen glimpses of him being nice, of course, in the months you’ve been living with him, but you’ve never thought about him as anything more than a casual friend.

And here he is being so supportive you could cry.

Your mum’s gone up to her room when he catches you looking at him over your food.

He raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t stop eating.

‘Thanks,’ you say, feeling like you need to say something. ‘Thanks for driving me here, and being so nice.’

Your throat closes on the last word, and you take a sip of water, trying to hide the prickle of tears behind your eyelids.

‘You’re my friend, I’m just doing the same as you’ve done for me,’ Taehyung says.

His voice is so warm, quiet, that it’s getting harder to hold the tears back.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, voice trembling as you try valiantly to pull humour in. ‘I don’t even have a car, and you don’t fit on the back of my bike.’

You cast a glance at him, but he’s not looking at you either.

‘You made me soup when I was unwell earlier in the year. You always cook extra for me.’

Taehyung’s big hand reaches out, plays with his glass. ‘You don’t mind washing some of my clothes when they accidentally get in your wash.’

You snort. ‘I knew it wasn’t an accident.’

‘They’re always so much softer when you wash them,’ Taehyung says, on a pout.

Your eyes meet.

‘It goes both ways,’ Taehyung says.

‘Like your dick?’

‘Shut up, your mom’s upstairs,’ Taehyung retorts.

‘She knows about the birds and the bees,’ you say.

You both laugh, and for the first time since you found out about your dad, the tightness in your chest eases a little.

The tears that threatened to fall are long gone, which is just as well.

You feel like you’re on the edge of a precipice, like you’re barely a step from big feelings about Taehyung that you don’t have the headspace to unpack right now.

You glance at Taehyung, and realise he’s looking back at you.

‘It’s a lot,’ you say.

‘Yeah. We’re tired.’

He seems to understand.

***

When you wake, Taehyung’s buried under the covers, the second duvet you’d grabbed from the linen closet wrapped snuggly around him.

You’d known he was a blanket hog. You’d called it.

You don’t have an excuse for the way you’re looking at him right now whilst he’s asleep, and you know you should stop.

But his face, like this, is so beautiful it makes your heart flutter. His eyelashes are so long you wonder why you never noticed them before.

He stirs, and you avert your gaze as he opens his eyes.

He’s the first to speak.

‘I like –’

You wonder how he’s going to finish his sentence.

He clears his throat.

‘I like your bed.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask. ‘You hog all the blankets.’

Taehyung turns over, onto his back, so he’s no longer facing you.

‘I’m not wearing a shirt,’ he announces.

You stare at the ceiling whilst you process this.

‘I’ve seen you shirtless before,’ you point out.

‘I’m not —’

He stops.

‘Christ, Taehyung, you’re not naked under there are you?’

Taehyung starts humming as he uncovers himself, and it takes you a moment to realise he’s parodying a striptease.

You burst out laughing.

‘Stop, stop. I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Taehyung stops with his hand over the sheet covering his waist and waggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. ‘What do you want for breakfast? We’ll go and pick up something for my mom.’

You end up at the bakery near your house.

The woman behind the counter, Mrs Jeong, is a friend of your parents’. She presses a box of fresh pastries on you, waving you off when you offer to pay.

‘I put extra in there for your man,’ Mrs Jeong says, nodding to Taehyung.

‘He’s not my man,’ you reply, automatically.

‘Thank you, auntie,’ Taehyung says, beaming as he takes the box.

‘You’re such a slut for a bun,’ you complain, as soon as you’re out of the shop.

Taehyung shrugs as he sips his coffee. ‘I drove you here, I’m looking after you and your mom. I’m your man.’

You sip your own coffee and adjust your sunglasses on your face. ‘Ugh. Come on, we should pick up some fruit too.’

By the time you get home, your mother’s up and preparing breakfast.

It’s weird seeing your roommate like this, fully dressed and sitting up straight on a Saturday morning instead of shovelling pancakes into his mouth, slumped and hungover.

You wonder if it’s weird for Taehyung to see you like this too.

After breakfast, your mother heads to the hospital whilst you see Taehyung off.

You pack him some pastries for the drive back and watch as he loads his overnight bag into the car.

‘Hey, drive safe, ok?’ you say.

He snorts. ‘I’ll definitely be safe, unlike you stumbling home drunk the other day.’

‘I didn’t want to cockblock you,’ you say, shrugging.

Taehyung opens his car door, turns to face you.

‘I can get laid anytime. It’s not everyday I find a roommate who has the same taste in food and shit TV as me.’

You furrow your brow. ‘You’d better wait until I get back to watch the next episode.’

Taehyung pretends to consider it. ‘Yeah we’ll see.’

He smiles at you. ‘Are you gonna be ok?’

‘Yeah,’ you promise. You almost feel like hugging him, but you never touch.

It would be weird, right?

Taehyung’s turning back to his car, anyway. He gets in, rolls down the window.

‘See you in a couple weeks?’

‘Yeah. Don’t fuck in —’

‘Communal spaces,’ he finishes. He laughs softly, and then he’s rolling up the window.

You watch him drive down your road, until he turns the corner and you can’t see him anymore.

***

You nudge the front door of your apartment open with your foot. Your mother had insisted on packing food for you and Taehyung when you left the house. You’d had to convince her you couldn’t possibly carry any more on the train with you.

Your father’s back home and on the mend.

You’ve got finals coming up soon, and although you’ve been keeping up to date with assignments whilst you’ve been at home, it’s good to be back.

The apartment’s dark, you’re not sure if Taehyung’s home.

You put your food down in the kitchen and head to your room.

It’s exactly the way you left it.

You pull off your coat and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

You’re back in the kitchen, heating up food, when you hear a key in the door.

You step out to greet Taehyung, and realise he’s not alone.

A pretty brunette in a green dress is standing next to him in your entryway, holding on to his arm as she slips her shoes off.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung says, warmth in his voice.

You smile, not sure why your heart feels like it’s in your mouth.

‘Hey.’

You share your smile with the girl, and Taehyung says, belatedly, ‘This is Kira.’

‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ Kira says. She grins at you, and dimples pop in her cheeks.

Damn, she’s cute.

‘My mom made food for us. You guys should help yourselves,’ you say.

You head back to the kitchen.

Taehyung wanders in behind you with Kira.

‘You want to eat something, babe?’ he asks, and there’s a pang in your chest at the endearment, a feeling you can’t name.

You need to change the subject.

‘You kept the place clean whilst I was away, I’m impressed,’ you say lightly.

Taehyung looks pleased. ‘I’m glad you noticed. I even did some of your laundry.’

You feign shock.

Kira giggles.

Taehyung hands you a plate, and you sit to eat.

‘How’s your mom and dad?’ he asks, quietly.

‘They’re good. My dad’s back home. My mom’s feeling better about it all,’ you tell him.

‘What happened?’ Kira asks.

You explain as Taehyung heats up food for him and Kira.

Your phone lights up on the kitchen counter.

Taehyung glances at it.

‘Yoongi was asking after you,’ he says, ‘last weekend. I told him about your dad.’

‘Yeah. He texted me a couple times.’

‘You gonna meet up with him?’ Taehyung asks. He’s looking at you now, an unreadable expression on his face.

You shrug. ‘Maybe?’

Taehyung changes the subject.

‘I was thinking we should have a party here next month,’ he says, sitting down opposite you at the kitchen table, next to Kira.

‘Yeah. Right after finals?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sounds great, Tae.’

Your phone lights up again. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at it.

‘Looks like Wonho’s really trying to get in touch with you.’

You roll your eyes. ‘I don’t even know how he got my number, honestly.’

‘Probably from that time he found your phone at that party,’ Taehyung says.

‘He’s cute,’ Kira says.

‘I don’t like guys with muscles,’ you say, dismissive.

You flick your eyes at Taehyung. ‘Just noodle arms.’

Taehyung laughs so hard he snorts broth through his nose.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he says.

‘I’ve missed you too, Tae.’

It’s the truest thing you’ve said today.

There’s a fizz of something in the air between you as you lock eyes with Taehyung.

Kira’s looking at you and Taehyung thoughtfully.

You get up. ‘I’m gonna go to bed. Nice to meet you, Kira.’

***

You’ve been busy the last few weeks, with finals and year end assignments.

Taehyung and you have organised a schedule between you, there’s always food and you know when each other’s exams are so you can make sure you wake up on time.

You haven’t seen Yoongi since you got back, which is just as well.

Once the semester ends you’re moving to another city, joining a publishing firm.

It’s the end of an era.

Honestly, you’re more than a little apprehensive about moving out of your place with Taehyung, moving on with your life, but it’s starting to feel like it’s the right time.

If you never go to another club night in some dive with sticky floors, you think you can live with that.

You’re sitting in someone’s backyard at some house party, ass on the grass, with Taehyung sprawled out next to you.

Taehyung reaches out, flicks your bare thigh.

You ‘ouch’ exaggeratedly, move your leg away.

‘What are we gonna do when we’re not doing this every Friday?’ Taehyung asks.

You sip your drink, look up at the stars.

You realise he’s waiting for an answer.

‘Not sure, Tae. We can do this on Friday nights if you want.’

‘Yeah I’ll come to your new place and we can drink together.’

He pokes your leg again, and you nudge his hand with your thigh.

You glance over and catch him looking at the hem of your short skirt.

‘You horny, Tae Tae?’

You expect him to make a joke of it, but he asks, voice low, ‘have you ever wondered what it might be like if we slept together?’

Your eyes meet, and he still seems completely sober.

‘I know you have fantasies about me,’ you say carefully, giving him another chance to make a joke of it, to stop before he crosses that invisible line between you that you both have always toed.

Your roommate traces his finger along the line of your thigh, and your cunt tightens.

You let out a breath.

‘I do think about you,’ he says. He turns on his side on the grass, facing you, turned away from everyone else.

His finger strokes another line down your thigh, then travels up, over the front of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your skirt.

You look straight at him as you let your thighs fall apart slightly.

Taehyung moves his hand, off the taut hem of your skirt. He bites his lip, and then reaches under, sliding between your legs with a confidence that makes your cunt tighten again.

The tips of his long fingers brush the fabric of your panties.

‘Are these those pretty purple panties?’ he asks.

‘You like those?’ you ask.

He moves a little closer, pulls your thigh closer to him to make room for his hand.

It’s dark in this backyard, you doubt anyone can see anything.

As long as you can keep quiet.

Taehyung dips his head, brushing his lips against your bare thigh. You have the barest instant of warning, a flash of teeth, before he nips at your flesh.

‘Fuck, Tae,’ you breathe.

His hand between your legs has moved up so that his thumb can slide along your slit, his fingers braced on your upper thigh.

His face is so close to your cunt you can feel his breath on your thigh.

‘Not here,’ you say, grabbing his arm.

Fuck are you really doing this?

With Taehyung?

Taehyung gets up, adjusts himself and takes your hand.

When he looks at you, his eyes are dark with intent.

Unlike you, he seems pretty sure he wants this.

When your roommate commits to anything, he goes all in.

You guess you’re in too.

You follow Taehyung around the side of the house.

He stops by the wall, backs up against it, pulls you to him.

‘Should I kiss you?’ he asks.

It’s enough to snap you out of the lust and booze fuelled haze you’re in.

The words come out before you can stop them.

‘Don’t you want to, Tae?’

Even you can hear the hurt in your voice.

It’s wrong, it’s too much.

Sadly, it’s not nearly enough.

Taehyung holds out his hand, says your name, but you’re too drunk and too raw to even look at him.

You stumble away, and Taehyung doesn’t go after you.

***

You wake in stages.

Blink.

There’s bright sun shining through the crack in the curtains, so it’s daytime.

Blink.

There’s the silky dress you wore last night draped over the chair, your tiny underthings laid carefully across it, so you got undressed yourself.

Blink.

Your head is full, your mouth dry, your stomach already growling its discontent, so you’re hungover.

You groan and sit up.

Blink.

Taehyung and the events of last night come back to you.

You nearly fucked your roommate, would have fucked him, if he hadn’t made it so obvious that you were just another body to him.

The only girl on campus he hasn’t fucked.

Blink.

Wincing, you swing your legs onto the floor and get up.

Your head throbs.

You pick up the glass of water by your bed and down it.

By the time you’ve showered and done your skincare, your stomach is making it impossible to concentrate on anything.

You step out your room and are startled by Taehyung standing just outside your door.

‘Shit,’ you say.

Taehyung says, ‘let’s go to brunch.’

***

It’s weird, to think that this is one of the last times you and Taehyung will do this.

You use your hunger as an excuse to avoid talking, and Taehyung doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to say anything either.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,’ he says, muffled over a mouthful of pancakes.

You grimace and spear a bite of sausage.

‘It’s fine, Tae, I was drunk and emotional.’

‘Don’t hide behind it, you weren’t that drunk.’

His voice rings out, clear as a bell.

You look at each other. There’s frustration in his face, in the way his brows are drawn together, in the way his lips are in a straight line.

‘What are you saying, Tae?’

Your voice is soft, a vulnerability in it that you tend not to show.

You think Taehyung notices, because when he speaks again, his voice is soft too.

He sounds like when he speaks to you sometimes, when you wake up in the middle of the night still on the couch, the TV still on and he tells you to go to bed.

He sounds like when you’re out on the balcony some evenings after a tough day when only nicotine and talking shit will ease the tightness in your chest.

You’re so fucking fond of Taehyung, you realise now.

He lives his own life, separate to you, but he’s always been there when you’ve needed him.

You don’t spend that much time talking, but you know him intimately all the same.

You know he likes when you look after him a little, putting out food for him.

You know he hates leaving washing up for the next day and that he’s got a secret love for sports films and anything where the underdog triumphs.

You know that although you never see him go to the gym, he loves a team game.

You know he plays jazz when he’s sad and that his eyes look like wet velvet when he cries.

Taehyung’s opening his mouth to speak, but he stops when you get up and slide into the booth beside him.

You have no words left, so you kiss him instead.

It’s chaste, the way your lips touch, but then his arm slides around you and he tilts his head, and a thin line of heat unfurls inside you.

You never touch, and now he’s lighting little fires under your skin wherever he touches you.

Taehyung says your name on a breath, like smoke.

When you finally pull away, he dips his head, steals another kiss, before he’ll let you go.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for a while,’ he says, face still inches from yours.

‘Me too,’ you admit.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Fuck, I’m embarassingly hard,’ he tells you, shifting his hips.

‘Let’s go do something about it,’ you say.

***

When you and Taehyung reach your apartment, there’s half a basketball team waiting outside.

Yoongi steps forward. ‘We thought you might need a hand carrying things for the party later.’

You’re surprised, but you rally quickly.

‘Yeah, we need muscles,’ you say, glancing at Taehyung, wondering if he’s organised this.

Taehyung looks as surprised as you do. ‘Yeah ok, let’s go pick some stuff up.’

He adjusts himself again, and for a moment the outline of his erection in his sweats is so clear you have the sudden strong urge to drop to your knees and worship his cock.

Yoongi’s got his head tilted, he’s looking at you, and you wonder how much of your filthy imaginings show on your face.

Then he gives you a half smile.

‘Y/N, you can ride with me.’

***

You end up alone in the car with Yoongi.

You watch idly as he drives, forearms flexing, big hands hooked over the wheel.

‘You look good, Yoongi,’ you say.

He casts a glance at you. ‘Yeah, you too, pretty girl.’

He raises an eyebrow at you. ‘So you and Taehyung?’

‘Would’ve fucked if you hadn’t turned up today,’ you confess.

Yoongi looks amused. ‘Shit, yeah?’

‘I don’t know how I feel about it,’ you tell him, looking out the window at the buildings flashing past.

Yoongi shrugs. ‘You’re hot, he’s hot, you’re moving out soon. Sometimes sex is just sex.’

‘Like us?’

Yoongi says, teasing, ‘when did you get so needy? You barely even say hello when I see you these days.’

He signals, turns into the store car park. ‘Anyway, you know that’s not true, I take you out all the time.’

You climb out the car, wait for him to walk to the store together.

‘Wanna hold hands?’ you ask.

Yoongi laughs. ‘I want to turn around and take you back to bed right now.’

You lean into his side. ‘Might take you up on that.’

‘Yeah,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘Wear those silk panties for me tonight.’

‘And Tae?’

Yoongi looks down at you, that familiar smirk on his face. ‘He can join in if he wants.’

You consider this.

‘Shit, you dirty girl,’ Yoongi says, but he doesn’t sound mad about it.

He squeezes you into his side as you walk into the store.

***

You catch Taehyung in the living room before the party.

He looks stunning tonight, his hair styled, his skin glowing.

His beautiful face is as perfect as it ever was.

‘Like my shirt?’ he asks.

He stops in front of you, closer than he usually stands.

You wonder how many other norms are going out the window tonight.

You’re wearing the silk panties Yoongi requested, a silky dress that barely covers you.

‘Like my dress?’ you ask.

‘You’re perfect,’ Taehyung tells you. He smiles at you affectionately.

You say, ‘wait, I have something for you.’

You go to your room, pull out the record you picked out for him.

It’s a jazz piano piece that had played a lot in the coffee shop you spent a lot of time in when you were back home for your dad.

It’s sad, the notes drawn out and stark. It’d reminded you of the many nights you’d spent, on your balcony with Taehyung.

Taehyung puts the record on.

He doesn’t ask you to dance, not verbally anyway, but he holds out his arms and you step into them and he holds you close as he sways.

You lean your head against his chest, and his breathing stays slow, even.

He feels warm, and safe.

He feels an awful lot like someone you’re meant to be with.

You wonder why it’s taken you the whole year to realise.

Next week, you’re moving to another city.

It’s too late for regrets now.

Taehyung’s body moves with yours. He presses his cheek to your head.

The notes surround you, plaintive and wistful.

You wish there was more to say.

Taehyung holds you until the record plays out.

***

Your and Taehyung’s party is teeming with people, half of whom you don't even know.

Jimin and Jungkook have done something to your sound system, the music’s playing loud enough to raise complaints from half the city.

You don’t give a fuck, not today, when the bass fills the void of longing inside you.

Yoongi’s leaning against the railing of your balcony, facing out.

You’re facing the opposite direction, pressed close to his side.

Taehyung’s against the wall across your living room, looking straight at you as Yoongi drapes an arm around you and pulls you between him and the railing.

He kisses you. He tastes sweet, you wonder what he’s been drinking.

He murmurs, close to your ear. ‘Did you get dressed for me, pretty girl?’

‘Yeah,’ you tell him. ‘You gonna undress me?’

‘I’ll undress you,’ Yoongi promises. There’s a glint of something in his eyes. ‘Is your roommate going to watch?’

You say, ‘ask him yourself, he’s coming over here.’

Taehyung approaches you and Yoongi. He takes his time, a deliberate languidness to his movements that reminds you of a panther stalking its prey.

Yoongi doesn’t move as Taehyung slots himself in next to you.

‘Hyung,’ Taehyung says. ‘Can you give me and Y/N a minute.’

Yoongi eyes him. ‘Don’t 'hyung' me now. You can say what you need to say with me here.’

‘Come with me,’ Taehyung says to you. ‘If this is the last chance we have then I want to take it.’

Both men look at you.

Your heart’s beating, fit to burst, in your chest.

You take both men by the arm and lead them to your room.

***

The lights are low, the thumping bass vibrating through the wall.

In contrast to the rest of the apartment, your room is cool, the hallway leading to it long enough to put distance between you three and the crowd in your living room.

Yoongi, with the easy confidence of a man who knows exactly how this goes, takes your mouth. His kisses are designed to tease both you and the man watching, open-mouthed, tongue openly licking into your mouth.

‘Want to watch how I please her?’ Yoongi asks, directed at Taehyung. He slides his hands over your bare back.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

Yoongi’s speaking to Taehyung, but he’s looking at you.

He turns you so your back is to Taehyung, who’s sitting in your chair.

He lifts the hem of your slip dress, the silken fabric rustling against the silk of your panties.

He cups your ass as he kisses you, long fingers tracing the cleft of your ass.

He’s lifting your dress higher and higher.

‘Arms up,’ he tells you, and you comply.

Yoongi tosses your dress onto the floor.

He admires your bare tits with a flattering intensity.

He wraps an arm around you, cupping your breast as he turns you around to face Taehyung.

You cast a glance at Taehyung, and you’re transfixed.

His eyes travel from Yoongi’s arm across your chest to your face.

He says, quietly and with feeling, ‘you’re so fucking pretty.’

His voice is hushed, reverent.

Yoongi’s thumb flicks over your nipple, and Taehyung bites his lip as Yoongi lets go of your breast to cup the other.

His other hand kneads your ass until you’ve moving your hips against him.

You’re wet, and as Yoongi slides his hand between your legs to cup you, he grunts his approval.

‘You like that, pretty girl? You like how we’re both so hard for you? My dick hurts, and I’m sure Taehyung’s does too. Look at how he’s touching himself.’

Your gaze flies to Taehyung. He’s stroking over the clear outline of his erection, grinding against his own palm as he watches Yoongi touching you.

Yoongi hooks his fingers into your panties.

‘Wore these for me, didn’t you?’

He tugs them down, and you step out of them.

‘Go give them to Taehyung, baby.’

You turn your head to look back at Yoongi.

He’s looking back at you, cool, expressionless.

‘I’ll give these to Tae, then can I come back and suck your dick?’

Yoongi grins at you. ‘All yours, baby.’

You walk over to Taehyung, his eyes following your every move.

He takes your panties, then asks, ‘can you kiss me?’

Your thoughts flash back to when he asked if he should kiss you.

Taehyung doesn’t wait for a response this time.

He tugs your face down to his, and he kisses you, warm and sweet.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed, and as first times go, it’s perfect.

Taehyung’s lips mould to yours like he was made to fit against you.

You forget that you’re completely nude, that Yoongi’s watching, and you kiss him back.

You drown in him.

By the time you pull away, you’re both breathless.

‘Why did we wait so long?’ he murmurs, face pressed to yours still.

‘You’re an idiot,’ you say, but you feel so much affection for him you’re giddy with it. ‘I’m an idiot.’

Taehyung tweaks your breast, and you cover yourself with a squeal.

He sneaks a hand around your hip to pinch your ass.

‘Show me how you suck dick,’ he says. ‘I’ve been fantasizing about it.’

You can’t stop your smile as you turn back to Yoongi.

Yoongi gives you a cocky half-smile. ‘Come get comfortable, baby.’

He’s manspreading on your bed, hand curled around himself. He strokes his cock as you position yourself, even though he already looks plenty hard.

He pats your hip. ‘Ass up, let’s give Taehyung a show.’

You kiss the head of his cock and take him in. He grunts his approval as you suckle him. He’s thick, hard like velvet over stone, and as he glides into your throat he moans.

You tug at his balls, and his hips move.

‘Fuck, you’re good at this,’ he groans, voice a rasp, muscles in his thighs taut under your hands.

You press your tongue firmly to the underside of him, and Yoongi groans again.

‘Come ride me,’ he says.

He curls his hands around your hips, helping you balance on top of him.

You slide his cock along your cunt. You’re so slick with arousal now the slide is easy.

Yoongi says, ‘want to give us a hand?’

Taehyung climbs onto the bed behind you. He must have taken his clothes off along the way, because all you can feel is his bare chest pressed against your back as he curls an arm under your breasts, his bare cock nudging the curve of your ass.

Yoongi’s flat on his back but somehow he still has complete control.

‘You’re a dirty girl aren’t you? So greedy.’

He grunts as you grind against him. ‘Go on, pretty girl, put it on me.’

You unroll a condom onto his length and line him up.

Taehyung’s nibbling along your shoulder, touching your breasts as Yoongi’s cock fills you.

You moan when he’s in all the way.

‘Fuck, you feel so fucking good,’ Yoongi tells you. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow now as he helps you grind on him.

His cock’s angled so beautifully you gasp with each thrust of his hips.

Taehyung’s stroking his thumbs over your nipples, moaning as he rocks his cock against your ass.

You don’t realise you have your eyes closed until Yoongi says, voice strained, ‘open your eyes, baby, look how well you take me.’

You’re panting now, every movement sending waves of pleasure through your core.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck,’ Yoongi chants.

He bucks his pelvis under you, squeezing your hips hard as he comes.

His deep groan pulls you over the edge with him.

You’re coming, fuck, and it’s so good you’re blinded.

Behind you, Taehyung’s moaning, grinding into your ass.

Someone says your name, but you have no idea who.

***

Yoongi’s murmuring your name into your ear.

The lights in your room are low now, the music fading out.

You don’t know how much time’s passed since you fell asleep between Yoongi and Taehyung.

Yoongi says, ‘I gotta go, baby. Taehyung’s getting people to leave.’

You try to sit up, but he stops you. ‘Just rest a bit. Everything’s handled.’

He passes you a glass of water.

‘Heard you were moving out next week,’ he says, watching you drink.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

There’s a sort of wistfulness in his tone. ‘I guess I’ll text you if I’m ever in your area.’

You put your hand over his. ‘You know how to get hold of me,’ you remind him.

His half-smile makes your heart burn bright in your chest.

‘Answer your phone,’ he says.

‘You answer yours,’ you retort.

You both laugh. He pulls you into a half hug, and too soon, he’s pulling away.

‘See you around, pretty girl.’

He gives you one last smile, then he’s leaving your room, closing the door quietly behind him.

You lie back down, but the urge to speak to Taehyung’s too strong.

You don’t want to wait.

You slip on clothes and step through your now empty apartment.

Taehyung’s standing on the balcony, looking out.

‘Hey,’ you say.

His smile is brilliant, beautiful, perfect.

He’s everything you want, and you’re sad it’s taken you this long to realise.

‘Hey,’ Taehyung says.

He reaches for you, and you slide into his arms, like a key sliding into a lock.

It feels right.

Taehyung buries his face in your hair.

‘Feels like a lot,’ he says.

‘Too fucking much,’ you agree instantly.

He’s looking at you so intently you feel shy.

‘Let’s not talk about it,’ you say, tipping your face to his, putting your finger across his lips like you’re shushing him even though he hasn’t said anything.

Taehyung dips his head to kiss you. It’s even better than the first time.

***

This time, Taehyung and you take your time.

You’re in his bed, lying on your back, giggling as he blows raspberries on your belly.

He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties, tugs playfully.

‘I once used these to jerk off,’ he informs you.

You stare at him incredulously. ‘These? They’re not even a sexy pair.’

‘It was when you wore these with those low waisted jeans,’ he reminds you. ‘I spent the whole day staring at them.’

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing against the stubble on his jaw.

‘You didn’t,’ you whisper.

Taehyung nudges closer, lips against yours.

‘Did. Came so hard thinking about you wearing these with my cum in them,’ he tells you. His voice is so low it makes you shiver.

He’s kissing down your neck now, making small rumbling noises as you press yourself to him. You can’t get close enough, his skin’s so warm.

He pushes closer, hand under your thigh, making you open up for him so he can fit in between.

His cock, deliciously hard, nudges between your legs.

‘Take these off?’ you ask, and he nods.

You slip your panties down past the curve of your ass, but when you try to move your leg off his hip, his grip tightens.

‘Stay,’ he says.

He nudges forward, and the head of his cock pushes into you.

He feels so good you’re biting your lip, trying to move, to take more of him in.

He clutches your thigh, tight, and you both stop as your panties rip at the seam.

‘Shit, Tae,’ you gasp, giggling.

He’s already pushing into you, stretching you on his cock.

‘Ah, fuck,’ he groan, voice thick, slurred with want.

He grasps your hip, and pulls you under him. Sinks in all the way.

He fits between your thighs so beautifully you’re halfway to coming even before he starts rocking into you.

‘Taehyung,’ you gasp.

He’s still holding your hip, holding you down so he can slide his cock into you.

He’s so hard and heavy you’re lost, opening yourself up to him.

There’s nothing but the sounds of your breathing, jagged and irregular, the slap of skin against skin, the weight of him on you, the smell of his shampoo.

His hair’s so soft, why have you never touched it before?

Taehyung’s dragging his mouth over your skin, holding you tight, and he groans, deep in his chest, as you come.

He circles his hips, grinding against you, grunting.

He says your name, a shout, and then he’s pulling you closer, arms around you, face in your neck.

It’s a while before either of you can let go.

***

When you stir, wriggle a bit, Taehyung’s big hand tightens on your ass.

‘I’m kind of hungry,’ you confess.

‘What time is it?’

You roll over, grab your phone and tell him.

‘The diner’s probably open, we can get breakfast,’ Taehyung suggests.

You look at each other.

‘For old times sake,’ he continues.

You’re distracted by the flex of his arm as he puts it behind his head, props himself up.

You think you have enough memories of you and Taehyung getting hungover brunch in the diner on your road.

You think it’s time to make some new ones.

‘Or we could just fuck instead.’

Taehyung laughs, slaps your hip.

‘Come ride me then.’

You don’t make him ask twice.

***

Your things are packed up, every physical trace of you removed from this apartment that you’ve shared with Taehyung for the last year.

Taehyung’s loaded the last of his things into his car, and in an hour your parents will be here to help you move too.

You’re on the balcony, watching Taehyung as he shuts the trunk, locks his car. He looks up at you, then he disappears into your building.

Then he’s back in the apartment, standing in the doorway, head tilted as he looks at you and the empty space between.

You’ve said a lot of things to each other in the last week, and now all that’s left is an odd kind of longing for what might have been.

You don’t want to romanticise it just because it’s ending, but fuck, you’re going to miss him.

Taehyung’s holding you now, you have no idea when he closed the gap between you.

There’s sadness in his eyes, but a smile on his lips and it’s enough for you.

‘Don’t fuck,’ he says.

‘In communal spaces,’ you finish.

Neither of you laugh, but you can feel his lips curving against yours.

It’s still the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

***

A year later

You’re frowning at an email you’ve just received when your colleague stops by your desk.

You look up.

Jihyo says, ‘these are the new members of the design team who have just been hired.’

You smile automatically as you greet the three people standing in front of your desk.

You make eye contact with each person in turn, and when your gaze falls on the last person, a fluttery heat starts in the middle of your chest.

Dark brows drawn together like he’s trying to work you out, a husky low voice that you know as well as your own.

Kim Taehyung steps forward, hand out.

‘I’m Kim Taehyung,’ he says.

Your smile is brilliant, a match for his.

‘Y/N L/N,’ you reply, clasping his hand.

‘Are you free for dinner tonight?’ he asks. ‘I’ve just moved to this city and would love for someone to show me around.’

‘I think I can help you with that,’ you reply.

He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you say.

You’re aware the others are staring, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Taehyung smiles at you, lazy, devastating. Perfect.

‘Ok,’ he says. ‘Let’s try this again.’

#kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts smut

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kithtaehyung · 6 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi 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 | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips.

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?”

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.”

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?”

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted.

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?”

“I was.”

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?”

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside.

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi.

It’s just not the right time.

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.”

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists.

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.”

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence.

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else.

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before.

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better.

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried.

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face.

And a little bit of summer rain.

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip.

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight.

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep.

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next.

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence.

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason.

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs.

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out?

Shit.

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different.

Why can’t he fucking move?

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook?

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.”

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast.

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch.

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.”

“Nah, come now.”

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out.

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.”

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak,

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.”

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.”

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.”

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous.

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend.

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz.

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.”

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.”

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.”

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.”

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you.

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home.

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side.

“Everything, Yoong.”

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach.

So, so far away.

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.”

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that.

“How did that sound?”

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?”

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.”

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.”

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?”

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned.

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep.

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes.

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.”

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in.

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.”

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.”

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh.

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it.

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought,

“Do the chorus again.”

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?”

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note,

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.”

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite.

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod.

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long.

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else.

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment.

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it.

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!”

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies.

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation.

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking.

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window.

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start.

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen.

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some.

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain.

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now.

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying.

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll.

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up.

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later.

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag.

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.”

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has.

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.”

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him.

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.”

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.”

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation?

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has.

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.”

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel.

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

“If there’s something you need to get through...”

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot.

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard.

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine.

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing.

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others.

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister.

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country.

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus.

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all.

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years.

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together.

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa.

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down.

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that.

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too.

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.”

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true.

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?”

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything.

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...”

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.”

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears.

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed.

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink.

His ex?

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.”

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem.

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.”

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.”

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly.

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.”

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue.

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want.

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions.

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..”

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once,

“I think she feels all alone.”

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes.

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.”

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly.

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.”

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal…

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck.

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills.

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.”

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.”

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.”

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice,

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success.

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it.

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend.

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired.

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck?

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened.

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone.

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn.

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—”

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake.

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?”

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears.

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about.

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut.

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm.

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest.

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.”

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.”

“He told you?”

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.”

“Ah.”

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?”

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?”

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?”

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.”

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows,

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.”

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table.

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.”

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.”

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.”

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?”

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again.

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too?

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day.

That sounds like fucking bliss.

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today.

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help.

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance?

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way.

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too.

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy.

After all this time. All these days and nights.

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms.

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left.

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds.

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more.

Something that isn’t broken.

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table.

What. No way.

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark.

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen.

Hustler: Incoming Call

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight.

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.”

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.”

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud,

“No way in hell, doll.”

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned.

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.”

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit.

You’re so good at that.

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—”

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky.

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is.

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it.

“What did he say?”

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.”

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.”

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.”

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter.

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother.

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too.

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen.

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours.

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms.

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.”

“Why?”

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.”

“Fuck.”

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?”

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.”

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.”

“Ha ha.”

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink.

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear,

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?”

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.”

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?”

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all.

“The world said let them cook.”

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game.

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks.

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing,

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue.

Because of you. It’s always you.

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.”

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves.

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room.

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit.

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange.

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door.

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress.

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you.

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too.

This is so hard.

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself.

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :)

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect.

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio.

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped.

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further.

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds.

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep.

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week.

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly.

“Hey.”

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers.

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.”

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.”

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.”

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker?

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.”

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.”

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.”

“Do better.”

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.”

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to—

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.”

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching.

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head.

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green,

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness.

And you want that to be the case forever.

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.”

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.”

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again.

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned.

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too.

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!”

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.”

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering.

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver.

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…”

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?”

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him.

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too.

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection.

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.”

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink?

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.”

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—”

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.”

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen.

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.”

“Just a bite then.”

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try.

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.”

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze.

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.”

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.”

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold.

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.”

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.”

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?”

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too.

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.”

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.”

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying.

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.”

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..”

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.”

“You do?”

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.”

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh.

“Always, doll.”

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.”

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same.

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time.

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center?

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?”

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward.

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever.

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.”

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else.

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical.

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump.

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair.

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him.

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath.

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face.

What is it with him and keys?

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous,

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage.

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.”

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right?

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours.

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile,

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over!

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.”

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about.

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here.

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio.

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma.

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before.

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here.

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there.

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.”

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.”

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use.

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take.

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness.

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.”

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.”

“It was kinda hot.”

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.”

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.”

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood.

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history.

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.”

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.”

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.”

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember?

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands.

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks.

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!”

“Uh huh.”

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around.

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else.

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in.

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front,

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?”

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.”

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.”

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is.

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet.

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before.

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills.

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them?

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys?

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage.

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone?

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here.

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue.

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about?

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.”

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!”

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start?

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.”

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!”

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?”

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.”

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.”

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.”

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead.

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest.

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long.

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater.

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t notice the way Jimin��s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother.

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ 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! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#ITS FINALLY HEREEE #SHEESH #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #filter for fics:#*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #three tangerines #3tan11 #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #btsfic #*latest #ryenwrites

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