#bts suga fanfic

[bteezxyewriter12]

Competition

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 6.9k

Includes- Som much sex, oral, pussy eating, blow job, deepthroating, throat fucking, cum eating, semi public sex (getting caught), dacryphilia, dirty talk, wall sex, floor sex, cock riding, sex from behind, missionary, rough sex, slow sex, tummy bulge, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

Walking into the dressing room, I find my best friend across it, whispering with Hobi

I roll my eyes as I walk towards her

I've been looking for her for ten minutes

She wasn't answering her phone and now I see why

"You really giving me a hard time?", Hobi says to her as I get closer

They're both so engrossed in their conversation they don't see me coming

"It was a one time thing Hobi", she answers

My curiosity is piqued

What was a one time thing?

He snorts, "Right. That's why I slept over and we kept fucking right?"

Shock enters my system at his words

They kept what?

Did he say fucking?

What the fuck, they slept together?

When?

"That's why you were crying, begging for my tongue over and over, coming in my mouth again and again", he says, "Because it was a one time thing"

She was begging for him?

No way

An insane amount of jealous explodes in my veins

"Look Hobi, yeah you're good ok. And I'll admit it, no one has gone down on me as good as you ok"

Bullshit

He is not better at oral than I am

I'm the king of oral

I've never gotten any complaints, in fact all I've gotten is praise and begged to keep going

There's no fucking way he's better

No way

"And you did fuck me really good. But that's all it was. Sex. And I'm not sure it would be a good idea for us to keep fucking"

"Why not? I'm attracted to you and you're obviously attracted to me. I know what it would be. Just sex. A friend's with benefits thing. I'm game for it"

Friends with benefits?

When the fuck did he think of that situation?

"Friends with benefits?", she repeats

No, not happening

He can't have her

He can't

Lately my feelings towards her have changed

To where I see her more than a friend

But as a fuck buddy or a girlfriend I haven't figured out yet

But I want to be around her all the time, spend time with her

And if she does this friends with benefits thing with Hobi then I'll never know

But there's one thing I know for sure

I can eat her out and fuck her better than he ever could

"Let me know", he says to her then leaves, going towards a makeup artist

She shakes her head, then turns to me, jumping when she sees me a few feet behind her

"Oh hey Yoongi", she says nervously

And I make up my mind

"I have to talk to you", I say

"Oh, yeah ok", she agrees

"Come on"

She follows me out of the dressing room and I go into the first empty room I find

She enters and I take a breath as I close the door

"You slept with Hobi?", I ask, turning around

Her eyes widen, "You heard"

"I mean you guys were talking about it in the middle of the dressing room and you weren't exactly whispering"

"I uh...yeah. I did"

"When?"

"Uh last week"

Just last week?

Where the fuck was I?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs, looking down, "I don't know. I guess I was worried you'd be mad"

The thing is I'm not mad

Or maybe I am but at the moment the biggest thing I feel is jealousy

"I heard him...brag about his skills"

Her face turns red, "Yeah, I didn't know he was a bragger like that"

And it's now I decided to take the plunge

"I can do it better than him"

Her eyes snap to mine, complete shock in them

"Uh...what?"

"I can do what he did better", I say, holding eye contact, "I can eat you out better. I can fuck you better. I can make you feel better"

Her mouth drops, "What the hell Yoongi? It's not a competition"

But it is

Hobi unknowingly started a competition because of my feelings for her

If I didn't have feelings for her, I wouldn't care if she slept with him

But I care

"I can show you I'm better", I tell her

"I..uh...I....uh..", she trails off, "I uh...I don't know if we should do this"

She's hesitating but she wants to

If she didn't she would of said no immediately

"Do you trust me?"

She looks at me sharply, "Of course Yoongi. That's not even a question"

"So trust me now"

She hesitates for a split second, then nods, "I do. Ok"

Her words sink in and I stride right to her, crashing my lips against hers in a searing kiss that takes my breath away and lights a fire inside me

Her arms move around my neck and it feels so right

I move my arms around her, pulling her as close to me as she can get, my tongue against hers, my body screaming for hers

As I kiss her, I undo her jeans, slipping my hands under the waistband of them and her panties

Breaking the kiss, I kneel down on my knees, pulling everything off her, my eyes on her small pussy

So pretty, fuck

"Yoongi, oh fuck", she moans when I lick her small clit, feeling it spasm

Fuck, I like that

Pushing her legs open, I push my tongue on her, licking up her cunt slowly, feeling her on my entire tongue, taking in how she tastes

And fuck she's good, so sweet, like fucking candy

How she tastes this good I don't know but I'm glad she does

"Yoongi, oh my fucking god", she moans as my tongue continues to pleasure her

I move the tip of my tongue up in-between her slit, her swollen lips parting for my tongue, her juice all over my mouth, dripping down to my neck

"Mmm", I moan, moving one of her legs over my shoulder, pushing my face deeper into her cunt, my tongue flying up and down

My god, I can't get enough of eating her cunt

It's just everything, the feel of her, the taste, the scent, she's intoxicating

Circling her hole, I tease her, feeling her legs shake under my hands, hearing her cute whines

Dragging it out a few more times, I finally plunge my tongue in her cunt, the immediate clenching sending pleasure down to my hard cock

Licking out of her hole, I run my tongue all the way up, flicking her clit when I get there

"Oh my god, Yoongi!"

Chuckling, I run my tongue down and wiggle back into her pulsing hole, moaning into her

Her hand snakes down to my hair, grabbing a fist full as she moves her hips, fucking her pussy on my tongue

I'm so here for it, gripping her ass hard and I move my tongue all over her- in her hole, between her swollen lips, over her clit, everywhere my tongue touches I lick her

Rolling my tongue over her clit again, she moans, "There Yoongi"

I press my tongue against her pulsing clit, massaging it as her shouts of pleasure fill the room

I'm enjoying this so much, it's actually insane

I don't think I've ever liked going down on someone as much as I do right now

Sucking her clit into my mouth, I tug and play, her pussy gushing all over me, drowning me and I love it

I slurp on her clit like my life depends on it, reveling in the constant throbs against my tongue

"Yoongi", she moans, my name sounding so pretty in her voice

Her hand tightens in my hair, her hips desperately snapping into my face, her legs trembling

I don't stop and the next suck has her screaming my name, coming hard

Dropping my tongue down, I shove it up her cunt, letting her cum around it while I use my fingers to rub her clit

"Yoongi, oh my god. Yoongi!", she whines, her pussy clenching my tongue over and over

I can't wait to feel her clench my cock like this

I swallow all her sweet cream, sucking around her hole to make sure I get it all

My mind is blown at how good her cum tastes

I mean it's cum

Shouldn't taste as good as this

Only when she finishes do I pull my tongue out and lick her cunt clean

Pressing my lips to her skin, I kiss up her body, sliding my hand on her cunt, playing with her clit

She shudders against me as I reach her neck, pressing peck after peck to her skin

"You taste so good", I whisper in her ear, burying my fingers in her and starting to move in her tight cunt, "So fucking sweet, like candy"

She moans and fuck, I can't get over how pretty it sounds

"Gonna wanna eat your pussy everyday", I tell her, loving how her body shivers against me, her hand grabbing my arm to hold on, "Gonna let me?"

Moving my thumb to her clit, I play with it while I fuck her with my fingers

"Yes", she whimpers

"Good girl"

Pressing on what I think is her spot, she cries out in pleasure, her hand squeezing my arm harder

Found it

"After you cum on my fingers, I wanna stuff you with my cock"

She makes a soft squeaking sound that's so cute

"I want this tight cunt around my cock. Want these swollen lips wrapped tightly around me. Wanna make your pussy cream around my cock"

"Fff..fuck", she moans

I keep moving my fingers, making sure I press on her spot every thrust in

"Wanna make my best friend cum for my cock", I say lowly

"Oh god"

I smirk as my thumb presses harder into her clit, her pussy throbbing tighter

"Gonna let me fuck you?", I ask

"Yes!", she yells, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Good girl"

Driving my fingers in she moans my name, coming

She floods my hand with cream and I keep fingering her through it

Then I pull my fingers out of her and look in her eyes as I shove my fingers in my mouth, sucking her cream off them

She gapes and I just smirk as I lick her cream from my palm

"Told you I loved the way you taste"

She just nods, her cheeks so red

"Gonna fuck you now"

She nods wordlessly again

Undoing my belt, I kick off my shoes and get my pants and boxers off, so ridiculously excited to be inside my best friend

She pulls my shirt off me, throwing it on the floor as my hands lift her up, her legs wrapping around me

She reaches down between us, aligning my cock to her hole, as she begs, "Please Yoongi. Fuck me. Want you to fuck me"

I can definitely do that

Moving closer, I push into her tiny hole, the pleasure of her stretching around me so fucking intense

"My god, you're fucking tight", I groan, slowly moving inch by inch inside her, her pussy sucking me in slowly and latching on tightly

"Mmm so big Yoongi", she cries, her head leaning against the wall, "Fuck your cock is so fucking big"

I smirk because yeah it is

Never had a complaint about my cock before

Shivers run down my back as I get all inside her, her soaked cunt throbbing so fast around my length

"Fuck Yoongi", she murmurs, her legs tightening around me, "God, your cock fills me so good"

"Yeah well your tiny cunt took me so well baby", I smirk, "Pulling me in like you wanted me inside you"

"I did", she moans, "I do"

"Good jagi. Want you too", I answer, pulling her shirt up and off, her bra following

I eye her big tits, moving one of my hands around one boob, squeezing softly

Pulling my cock out, I slam back inside, her moans fueling me to go faster

I get a fast hard pace going, splitting her cunt wide open, wrecking her

Her pussy takes me perfectly, clenching down as I move back in, her hands plunging in my hair, pulling as she cries out in pleasure

It feels so fucking good and I live for the way her cunt is pulsing and drenching my cock

Thrusting in, I slam into her spot, her pussy gushing juice out, her body arching off the wall

"Yes, there! Oh fuck! There", she cries as I indeed make sure my cock hits her there every single stroke

"Feels good?", I ask

"Yes", she nods, her body shaking in my arms as I fuck her tiny spot relentlessly

"Oh god, oh god", she chants, her eyes wet, a few tears escaping down her face

And that does nothing but turn me on even more

I move my hands up her back, pulling her right against me, her soft sweaty skin against mine, holding her tightly as I increase my thrusts, fucking her hard

And she just cries for more, asking me to go harder

"Yeah baby, cry for my cock", I urge her, watching the tears fall down her face, "Am I fucking you that good?"

"Yes!", she sobs, clinging onto me tightly

"Mmm yes jagi. Let me see those tears. I love it. Crying on your best friend cock, begging to fuck your sweet pussy harder"

"Yes, yes, yes", she whimpers

Fuck, I never had a girl want me this much

Never had a girl cry for me like she's doing

Never had a girl as wet as she is

"Fuck, listen to how wet you are for me. Listen to how good your sweet pussy takes your best friend's cock"

"Mmmhmmmm", she moans, her fingers twisting in my hair, the nails of her other hand digging into my shoulder, pleasure radiating off her body

"Sounds so pretty", I murmur, listening to the arousing sounds

I can listen to that all fucking day

"Yyy..Yoongi", she stammers, her body shaking with each stroke, her pussy impossibly tight around me

"Yeah jagi?", I ask, the pleasure so fucking intense, so goddamn good

"I...I....", she babbles, her eyes closing, her sobs more frequent

I know she's close

I can feel her

"Gonna cream my cock baby?", I tease, listening to her whimpers, "Decorate my cock with your cum?

She bites her lip, nodding

"Good girl", I murmur in her ear, "Cum around my cock baby. I want to feel this little pussy lose it"

"Yoongi!", she shouts, coming at the next thrust in

Her pussy spasms uncontrollably as she clings onto me, pleasure like I never felt before tidal waving into my body

I gasp, the bliss so much I have to try hard to keep standing as she screams my name over and over, her body shaking hard against mine

I've never felt like this from a girl's orgasm

And I'm immediately addicted

Once she finishes, I kneel down on the floor, laying her on the carpet

I can't stand anymore, not after that pleasure

And I need to feel it again but I don't think I can take another of her orgasms without falling

Pushing her legs to her chest, I resume pounding into her little pussy

"Yoongi", she cries, her hands gripping my forearms so tightly

"I need you to cum again", I tell her, watching her swollen pussy lips petal open for me each time my dick slides inside her

"Yeah", she whimpers, taking the pounding I'm giving her, her pretty body soaked in sweat

Leaning down, I lay my tongue on her stomach and lick up to her neck, her sweat tasting so fucking good

I think anything on her will taste good

"So good baby", I smirk, sitting back up and destroying her little pussy

She whimpers, her eyes on mine

"Oh my fucking god!", I hear

Snapping my head up to the door, I glare at Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung, standing in the doorway, each one with shock on their face

When the fuck did the door open?

"Get out", I growl, stopping but still buried inside her, her begging for more

"I..uh..the shoot", Jungkook starts, his eyes wide as plates

"Yoongi! Don't stop!", she cries under me

"Oh my god", Tae mutters

"Get out!", I shout, making them jump

"Sorry!", Jimin yells, grabbing the door handle and slamming it closed

"Yoongi", she moans and I forget what happened, continuing thrusting into her

Her pussy is so messy, cream all over my cock, a thick ring of it around my base, driving me fucking crazy

"Fuck, look at you creaming my cock like this", I tell her, mesmerized, "Pretty little cunt swallowing my big cock so eagerly"

She nods, moaning, "Feels so good Yoongi. Fuck, more"

"I'll give you more", I growl, driving my cock deep in her hole, "I'll wreck your pussy until I'm the only one you want inside you. Until my cock is the only one you crave"

She nods, her tears so fucking pretty

"Oh yeah, that's what you want?"

"Yes", she whines, "And...and ..and"

"And what?", I demand, "Tell me what you want"

"I wanna swallow your cum", she whimpers

God, that's the dirtiest thing she's ever said to me and it's such a turn on

"Yeah baby?", I smirk, fucking into her harder, my cock throbbing, "Wanna suck my dick?"

She nods, gasping, "Please"

"Ok jagi", I agree, "Cum for me first then you can suck me off"

"Ok. Ok", she whines, more tears streaming down her gorgeous face

Burying inside her again, I hit her spot and watch her tiny hole spasm around my cock as she climaxes

"Yes baby, yes", I groan, ecstacy slamming into me as she screams my name, her pussy working my cock good

I keep moving, fucking her through it absolutely loving pushing through her tight cunt

When she finishes, I pull out, watching my cock and her hole stay connected through a string of her creamy cum

Fuck that is something I've never seen before and can get used to seeing

Moving next to her head, I grab her hair, moving my cock to her mouth

"Open"

She does, letting me push my cock in, her mouth sucking immediately, pleasure running up my spine

"Yes baby, fuck"

She sucks desperately, spit all over the place, her hand moving around my cock not in her mouth, jerking me off at the same time

"Fuck you're mouth is so good", I praise her, watching her push down on my cock more, her sucking driving me crazy, "You gonna take all of me?"

She nods, her gorgeous watery brown eyes looking up at me as she bottoms me out, choking around my length

I pull back a little so I don't hurt her but she shakes her head, going down again

Her throat spasms around my shaft as she swallows repeatedly, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine

"Ccc..can I fuck your throat?", I choke out, so close

She nods, keeping her mouth open for me

Holding her in place by her hair, I pull out then thrust back in, moaning from how utterly good it feels

I move over and over, her throat taking me just as good as her pussy does

I feel small sucking sensations every time I bottom out, awed that she's still blowing me

I watch her as I throat fuck her, listening to her moan around my dick

"I'm gonna cum", I groan, right there, "Gonna swallow all my cum for me?"

"Mmm hmm", she nods want in her brown eyes

That drives me over the edge and I bury my length and spurt my cum down her throat, the ecstasy feeling amazing

True to her word, she swallows eagerly, again and again, milking my cock desperately

"Joanne, fuck, yes good girl", I groan

When I finish, she stops, letting me pull out of her mouth

She closes her eyes, breathing hard

I sit next to her, running my fingers in her hair, breathing hard myself

This was seriously the best sex I ever hand

And my best friend gave it to me

Mind blown

After a minute, her eyes open and she struggles to sit up

I help her, her eyes slowly moving up to mine

I smile at her bewildered look, then lean down and kiss her

I don't know why I'm doing it, it just feels right

Breaking away, she says, "I think you're really late for the photo shoot"

I chuckle, "Yeah. Guess I should get going"

She nods

I stand up then help her up and we start the task of getting our clothes back on

Right before we're about to leave the room, I stop her

For some reason I don't want to be apart from her

I don't think about it as I ask, "Wanna come over after the photo shoot?"

She raises her eyebrow but smirks, "Yeah"

Then she walks out of the room

Ok then

I smile as I follow her

--------------------------------

"Off now", she demands between kisses, her hands pulling at my boxers

As soon as I parked my car and we got into the apartment we're all over each other

It wasn't even a second inside before our lips were glued to each other's

We somehow managed to get into the living room, clothes strewn along the path we took

She drops my boxers and I step out of them, then start pulling her panties down

Kicking them off, she bangs her leg into the coffee table, groaning in my mouth

"Are you ok?", I ask, as she sinks to the floor, her hand against her calf

Kneeling down too, I move her hand, seeing a bruise already forming

"Jo-"

"Who cares?", she says, on her knees and pulling me back to her lips

Ok well if she doesn't care then I guess she's ok

I kiss her eagerly, just wanting to be back inside her

"Lay down", she says, breaking away from me

"Uh-", I start

"Lay down", she says, pushing me back, "I want to ride your dick"

Oh well ok then

I lay down, moving my legs under the coffee table

She immediately climbs in my lap and I'm hit with her gorgeous body that I neglected to look at before

I was too busy feeling and looking at her cunt

But goddamn her body is fucking gorgeous

Perfect

With huge boobs

She spreads her legs wide, her feet flat on the floor, her hand holding my dick up

Her hole is already leaking, some of it dripping to my tip, turning me on so much more

She aligns me to her hole, sinking down on my head

"Fuck", I moan, watching her sit more and more on my cock, the familiar tugging of her pussy so good

As soon as she bottoms me out, she's already moving, sliding up and down my dick, throwing my entire body into bliss

"Yes fuck", she whines, bouncing on my cock so hard, her boobs jiggling so much

Her arms move behind her, her elbows on the coffee table as she leans against it, riding my dick like no one ever has before

Her tight cunt is creaming my cock so much already, it's all over my lap, not just my dick

Her legs are spread so wide, I have an amazing view of her hole splitting open as she takes me back in, her swollen lips wrapped beautifully around my length

Her head falls back, her bounces so fast, hard as she moans so erotically

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes Yoongi. Oh my god Yoongi"

Hearing her moaning my name is such a fucking turn on

I want to hear it over and over, her voice so beautiful calling me

Her chest is heaving, beads of sweat trailing down her body towards her tiny pussy

She picks up her head, looking at me, lust in her eyes, her sweaty hair clinging to her body

Fucking ethereal

The sound of our skin slapping each other mixes with the loud squelching sound her drenched cunt makes when she takes me back in, making pornographic music sounding in the room

Add her moans to that and it's something I can listen to forever

"Yoongi!", she yells, "I'm gonna cum! Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum"

Somehow her bounces become more rapid, more wild, her cunt clenching my cock in a vice grip

"Can I cum on your cock?", she cries, "Please, wanna cum on your cock"

"Yes jagi. Fuck, cum for me", I shout, wanting to feel that ecstacy again

"Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!", she screams

Her body stiffens and shakes as she orgasms, squirt pouring from her cunt like a waterfall, completely soaking me

Her screams are beautiful and watching her cum is amazing as pure pleasure slams into my body

"Oh fuck", I moan, her cunt pulsing hard around my cock

"Again", she cries, as she finishes

Slipping down my dick, bottoming me out, she grinds against me, my head rubbing against her spot, "Again, Yoongi again"

"Yeah baby. Go ahead", I urge her

Her hips move quickly, hypnotically in a circular motion and I can't take my eyes away from her

As she grinds on me, her cunt spams hard around my cock, sending spikes of pleasure through my body

"Yes, yes fuck", she murmurs, her eyes closed, leaning back as she moves, "Fuck such a good cock. So fucking fat, so big. So fucking hard"

My mind explodes hearing her talk about my dick

"You like my cock jagi?", I ask, leaning up on my arms so I can sit up slightly and watch her better

"Love your cock Yoongi. Fuck, opens my pussy so well", she moans, her circles getting faster, "Love having your cock inside my pussy"

"I love being there", I assure her

Her fluttering around my length is getting faster, she's close

Leaning forward, I press my fingers to her clit, feeling it throb as I rub

"Yes, oh god", she cries, soaking me more

"Cream my cock baby", I murmur, "Make a pretty fucking mess"

"Yoongi!", she yells, tightening so much, her head leaning back, exploding all over me, bliss filling me

Her movements stall as she cums but I keep moving my fingers, rubbing her clit to keep her coming

Her cream leaks around us, the sight fucking mesmerizing

"Oh god Yoongi. Yes Yoongi"

Her body relaxes when she finishes, lifting her head and looking at me in amazement

"Good?", I ask

"Amazing", she breathes

"Good"

Pulling her to me, I crash my lips to hers, kissing her wildly

She throws her arms around my neck, her fingers moving in my hair, pulling as she kisses me back

"Need to fuck you", I murmur between kisses

"Yeah Yoongi. Fuck want your cock so bad"

Oh fuck yeah

Pulling her off me, I maneuver her around, getting her to face the table on her knees

Shoving her down on it, I get behind her, shoving my cock inside her waiting cunt

"Yes fuck", she cries as I bottom out, her hands squeezing the edge of the table hard

Pulling my cock almost all the way out, I shove back inside, hitting her spot

"More Yoongi!"

I move quickly, thrusting into her warm pussy over and over, the feel of dragging in and out of her cunt so intense

"Fuck this pussy is perfect", I murmur in her ear, "Swallows my cock so easily. Throbs so greedily for me"

"Yes Yoongi", she whimpers, taking the pounding I'm giving her

Moving my arm around her, I press against her lower stomach, feeling it bulge everytime I fuck into her, driving me crazy

"This pussy takes my cock so deeply", I murmur, "Wants me all inside"

She nods, breathing hard

"You were made for me", I tell her, lost in the pleasure, lost in her

"Yeah Yoongi. I was", she whimpers

Pulling her back against me, I take her hand, moving it to her stomach, making her feel my cock move inside her

"Feel me fuck you jagi", I murmur, keeping my hand on top of hers, "You feel how deep I am inside you?"

"Yes", she shivers, "Fuck, harder Yoongi"

"Harder baby?", I tease

"Harder. I can take it", she groans, leaning her head against my shoulder

"I can fuck you harder baby but you have to cum for me"

"Yes, I will. I promise"

Touching her legs, I spread them wider, speeding up my movements and force, her dripping cunt leaking everywhere

She moans in my ear as I look down, her pretty neck on display and I get a sudden urge

Sliding my hand up her body, I wrap it around her neck, her pussy squeezing the life from me just as that moment

"Mmm is this what you want?", I tease, "You're pussy got so tight as soon as I grabbed your neck"

She moans wordlessly, her eyes closing

"Want to be choked?"

"Yes", she whispers, making my cock throb in excitement

I've done this before with other girls and I know I'm not going to hurt her

I know it's going to feel good for her and she's gonna cum so intensely

"You've been choked before?", I ask

"Yes"

I'm surprised at that, "By who?"

"Hhhh...Hobi"

Jealousy floods my body at his name

"Hobi?"

She nods

"Did he feel as good as me?", I growl

"No...no", she moans, tears running, pleasure all over her face, "Nnn..nobody fff...feels as good as you"

"Did his cock feel as good as mine?"

"No! Fuck no!", she shouts

"Did he fuck you as good as I am?", I demand, slamming into her with each word

"Nnn....oh god Yoongi!", she cries, pleasure hitting me hard as she cums suddenly

Her hands grip my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she rides out her orgasm on my cock

When she finishes, I continue fucking her spot, growling in her ear, "Who fucks you the best? Don't fucking lie to me"

"You do! Oh god you do"

"Are you lying?"

"Nnn..no! Yoongi no!", she sobs, "You're the best. Fuck you're the best!"

"Damn right"

"Please", she cries, "Wanna cum"

"Again? You already came so much. Such a greedy cunt"

She nods, "Wanna cum on your cock. Want ..want .want...."

"What jagi? What do you want? Tell me"

"Want you to cum deep inside me", she wails, shocking me, "Please Yoongi. Wanna feel your cum in my pussy. Please"

"You'll get it baby", I promise her, "First you have to cum around my cock one more time"

She nods, hiccuping, "Ooo...ok. Choke me please"

I comply, squeezing her neck as I pound into her sweet pussy

Letting go, I let her breath then choke her again

Her cunt tightens, pulsing so hard, making me groan in pleasure, "Yes fuck. Good pussy"

Loosing my hand, she breathes, then I cut her air off again, pushing through her tightness, feeling each throb acutely against my cock

Her body shakes against me, her nails digging into my arm as she cums, feeling her pussy crying cream

When I let go of her neck, my name breaks the silence as she screams

Her orgasm throws me head first into my own, ecstasy washing over me as I shove my cock deep into her and cum inside her

"Joanne! Fuck jagi!", I yell, feeling her cunt milk my cock as unbelievable pleasure overtakes me, stars bursting in my vision

I've never fucking cum this hard before, my body is fucking shaking

We ride the pleasure together, holding her against me

When we finish, she slumps against me, her head leaning back on my shoulder, her forehead against my neck

I breathe in heavily, keeping her against me so she doesn't fall over

Pulling out, I maneuver so my arm is around her back and my other is under her legs so I can pick her up easily

Standing, I carry her to the bathroom

"Jagi, can you sit up for me?", I ask her as I put her on the sink counter

"Hmmm?", she murmurs, her eyes opening

"Sit up for me baby?"

"Oh, ok", she answers sleepily, sitting up

I still hold on to her because she's swaying but I'm able to reach a hand towel and run it under water

"Open you legs for me baby", I ask her

When she does, I move the towel between them, cleaning her up

I wet my hand and run it through her hair to wipe away some sweat

Taking another towel, I wipe her face, her neck and her chest

When I finish cleaning her up, I clean myself up while still holding on to her

I smile when I look at her, her eyes closed as she sways softly

Pulling her back in my arms, I pick her up again and carry her to my room

Putting her in my bed, I move the blanket over her

"Where... Yoongi...where are we?", she asks, her eyes opening tiredly

"In my room jagi. You're gonna stay with me tonight ok?", I tell her

She nods so sleepily, "Are...are you gonna hold me?"

I smile

Most definitely

But I don't want to seem too eager

"Do you want me too?"

She nods, yawning, "So much. Always want to be in your arms"

I'm shocked hearing her and I wonder if she knows what she's saying

Or if she's just babbling because she's exhausted

I don't know for sure but it sounds as if she's thought about me as more than a friend too

I lift her face to mine, her sleepy eyes gazing into mine

Without thinking, I lean down, pressing my lips to hers

Her hands slide slowly up my chest as she kisses me in the softest, sweetest kiss I've ever had

I fall into her kiss, into the feel of her soft lips against mine

It's everything I didn't know I needed, didn't know I wanted

And I want it with just her

When the kiss ends, she snuggles against me, her head slotted under my chin, her face against my chest

I just smile as I wrap one arm around her, keeping her against me

I run my fingers in her hair with my other hand, feeling the soft strands fall through my fingers

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I say, "Night Jo"

"Night Yoongi", she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my chest

I smile widely as I continue to play with her hair

And it's in this moment, holding her in my arms, cuddling with her that I realize I'm utterly in love with her

It wasn't during sex or eating her out or even hearing about her and Hobi that made me realize it

It's now, in the feeling of how she belongs in my arms, in the feeling of wanting this every night, wanting her next to me every night, in the feeling of not knowing a better way of spending my night than with her that I know I'm in love

And I know, I'll do anything to be with her

Absolutely anything

"I love you", I whisper, fully expecting her to be asleep

"I love you too Yoongi", she murmurs, not opening her eyes

Instead she cuddles into me more and within minutes she's asleep, soft snores coming from her

She has no idea how she just rocked my world

No idea

And I can't wake her up to ask her about it

She's exhausted and she needs sleep

I just hope that I can fall asleep soon so I'm not tortured with thoughts of what will happen tomorrow

--------------------------------

Fingers slowly run in my hair, feeling good as I wake up

I slowly open my eyes, her gorgeous face filling my vision

She's looking at me so lovingly and when she sees I'm awake, she smiles her gorgeous smile

It takes my breath away

She moves closer, kissing me softly

I kiss her back, moving my arms around her, holding her right against me

Her hands move into my hair, her leg going around my waist to get as close to me as possible, the kiss getting heated

Her wet pussy is rubbing against my cock, making me hard

Sliding my hand down her body, I feel her skin tremble against my fingertips

Getting to her ass, I squeeze, pushing her against my dick, my head slipping into her hole

Her hips move down, taking me more inside her and I take that as a cue to move

Pushing my hips forward, I sink into her tight pussy, opening her up on my cock

I slide all the way in, my head against her spot, her body shivering against mine

I pull out then slip back inside her so slowly, feeling every inch of her spreading for me

She moans in my mouth and I swallow it willingly

As I thrust softly into her, I move her on her back, going on top of her

Her hands move to my back, pulling me down, her soft skin flush against mine

Her legs open around my body, letting me thrust into her easier

"Yoongi", she moans between kisses, the sound of my name so pretty in her voice

God, I'm going to want to hear that all the time

I move just a bit faster, still going slow, feeling absolutely everything so acutely

Every clench her pussy does on my length, every gush of juice, every suck pulling me inside her, every inch of her spreading around me

I feel every tremble of her skin, every soft kiss, hear every moan, feel her fingers digging into my back, clinging to me

Her hips move, rolling into mine, meeting my strokes and taking me in deeper

My head hits her spot every thrust, my pelvis rubbing her clit with each move, her pussy getting so tight each time I go in

"Mmm baby", I murmur, both of us moving together, "Feels so good"

She nods, "So good"

I'm in so much pleasure it's insane

I had no idea that slow sex could be so blissful

But of course it's with her

I wouldn't want to feel this way with anyone else

Only her

"Yoongi", she murmurs, so close, her cunt gripping my cock in a vice grip

I am too, the pleasure incredible

Her arms move around my neck, her fingers in my hair, her forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard against each other's lips

I drive my cock into her as she meets me, going in fully

Her body arches as her pussy throbs uncontrollably around my cock, coming all over me as she whimpers my name

"Yoongi! Yoongi!"

Ecstacy tidal waves over me, stars blasting in my vision as I spill my cum inside her

"Joanne! Jagi, fuck"

"Yoongi"

God, it feels so fucking amazing

When we finish, I look down at her, her eyes are already on me

Her fingers bunch the back of my hair, her head lifting, her lips against mine again

I fall into her kiss, wanting her in my arms forever

"Yoongi", she murmurs between kisses, "I love you"

Happiness washes over me as her words sink in

And I realize that she was telling me the truth last night

She really loves me

"I love you Jo", I answer between kisses too, "I love you so much"

She breaks the kiss, looking at me so lovingly

"Do you mean it?", she whispers, "Because I don't think I could take it if it's just something you're saying in the moment. I have been waiting for you for a long time. If you don't mean it then tell me right now"

I had no idea that she's been waiting for me

She's had other boyfriends, I didn't think she saw me that way

She never showed me any indication of her having any feelings for me

I didn't know I had feelings for her until recently

But I love her and I'm not letting her think I don't love her

"I mean it Jo", I tell her, "I started having feelings for you recently. As more than a friend. But it wasn't until last night that I realized I'm completely in love with you"

She hesitates, "Was it because we had sex and then you realized it?"

I shake my head, "No baby. It was when I was holding you last night. When I realized how perfect you fit in my arms, how good it felt to hold you. When I realized that I want you with me every night. That I want nothing more than to spend all my free time, all my nights with you. That's when I realized I'm in love with you"

She smiles softly, "I'm in love with you too Yoongi. For a stupidly long time"

I run my fingers in her hair, "I'm sorry I took so long to see you jagi. But I swear, I will make everything up to you. I promise I'll show you how much I love you everyday"

She smiles nodding, "I promise I'll show you how much I love you too naekkeo"

I smile widely, so utterly happy I have her love

Pressing my lips to hers, we settle back into the bed, arms around each other and just kiss

We're not getting out of bed anytime soon

And I wouldn't have it any other way

[bangtanfanfiction]

cold → myg (M)

Not proof read. 

♢ Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader → Hogwarts AU

♢ Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)

♢ Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smut 

⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?  - Warnings: swearing, some finger action

Hogwarts au masterlist

AN: Whenever I write Hogwarts AU’s I like to include characters that already exist in that world instead of coming up with a lot of OC’s. So you’ll be meeting with a few familiar faces ;)

‘Y/N’ in my story is more of her own character rather than an insert - I’ve tried to keep detailed description down to a minimum, but in some cases it was unavoidable. So sorry for those who find that annoying.

“Miss Y/N...”

“Miss Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the raised voice next to your ear, heart thumping for some unknown reason as the familiar sight of the dark ceiling came back into focus. Sighing, you relaxed back into your mattress before lazily addressing the voice.

“What is it, Tudey?” You muttered tiredly while the small house elf beside your bed played with her hands nervously.

“Mistress told Tudey to wake Miss up. The Hogwarts train leaves in two hours and Miss cannot afford to be late,” Her squeaky, uncertain voice relayed the message urgently, ears twitching nervously at the sight of irritation on your features. 

Although feeling slightly bad for scaring Tudey for just doing her job, it wasn't enough for you to bother clearing away your irritation. The house elf had known you since birth, and being a naturally nervous creature there wasn’t much you could do.

Resisting another sigh, you just nodded, waving her off as the sound of a loud crack was heard before silence took over again.

You remained in your position for a few moments in your overly large bed, eyes closed and craving more sleep, a black and burgundy comforter tightly wrapped around your body. 

The bedroom was cold, as always. The kind of cold that wasn’t exactly terrible, but enough to make you somehow uncomfortable at certain moments - such as waking up in the middle of the night. The air never failed to draw goosebumps on your skin whenever you woke. 

But you had gotten so used to the feeling that it barely bothered you anymore.

Stretching one last time, you got out of bed and went towards your wardrobe placed in the corner of the room. You didn’t waste a lot of time finding clothes and simply chose the first outfit that you managed to put together, consisting of a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a tight button skirt. You finished the look with some laced-up boots and a classy white blazer to make it a bit more sophisticated. 

Sitting down in front of your vanity table you saw your still half asleep face looking back at you. With a shudder, you grabbed your wand and gave it a wave - the glamor spell doing a quick change to meet the day.

Downstairs, the sound of pots clanging echoed from the large kitchen as you passed it along with the forms of several house elves walking around getting food ready for your family.

Inside the spacious dining room, your parents were already sitting on each end of the table. Both nursing their own cups of tea while reading the Daily Prophet. 

The same thick, tense silence for no reason greeted you.

Your younger brother, who was starting his first year, sat on the left of your mother and your older sister by two years on the right. Choosing the chair to your father’s left, you sat down silently before acknowledging them.

“Morning mother, father,” You nodded at each of them and felt your mother’s scrutinizing look directed at you - which you tried to ignore. It had become a habit at this point. 

“Seeing how you decided to arrive late today, I expect you are ready to pass Hogwarts this year with only the highest marks,” your father’s voice spoke up next to you as you sent him a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course, father.”

He looked at you for a few more seconds before moving on to address your older sister next to you, silently eating her breakfast with her back ram straight. The only one in the room who wasn’t hesitant about openly showing their emotions was your brother. And not even your uptight, pureblood parents could blame him for it. It was his first year at Hogwarts after all, any eleven-year-olds would have been excited at the thought.

Inwardly sighing, you couldn’t help but think how you weren’t lucky enough to be born into a normal, magical family - not even as a muggleborn at that. 

Your luck was as rotten as the trails of crimes belonging to the majority of the sacred Twenty-Eight families still existing to this day. 

Your mother was sitting silently in her seat, too occupied with the news to ask you any questions. Daphne Greengrass had aged well ever since her Hogwarts days, aging slowly and elegantly, not that different compared to your aunt Astoria. They had the same head of dark brown hair and eyes, traits that you had inherited. But unlike her paleness, yours was much more tan, a clear mix of both your parents.

Your father, Blaise Zabini, was an infamous name for all the wizards and witches who lived during the Second Wizarding War, although he had done his best to remain under the radar since then. 

 His affiliation with the Malfoys and several rumors about having been a past death eater were still whispered in the streets whenever any of you walked past. You never had the courage to ask either him or your mother about that. They were dark times, and you were only lucky to be born when the Dark Lord wasn’t trying to take over the world. 

When both of your parents had first married, it wasn’t because of love. More like convenience. It was no well-kept secret that your grandmother from your father’s side was a wealthy woman with her past six deceased husbands. The Greengrass family was one of the prestigious pureblood families still living - so it just made sense to unite the two bloodlines. But your surname would still remain as Greengrass with the influence behind the name soaring above your father’s. 

Even as the years passed, your parents were both adamant about not changing their views when it came to blood status. Their pride and arrogance worth more than anything. Which caused you and your two siblings to be raised in a traditional pureblood Slytherin household. 

Draco Malfoy himself had even changed for the better after his house arrest for being involved with the Dark Lord.

However, the only one who actually agreed with their views was your older sister. She lived to please them. Their praises make her feel better about her achievements.

Blood status didn’t matter to you. Why would you care if they were muggleborn or pure? You’d rather rely on your judgment of character to do the work. You had little patience for cowards. Neither were you the biggest admirer of the timid and silent, nor the rowdy and arrogant. 

Some would say you weren’t the most liked pupil around Hogwarts. Both you and your sister had been sorted into Slytherin on the first day, making nearly everyone, except for your brother, a snake.

After you had finished eating enough breakfast to call yourself full, your father stood up from his seat while looking at his wristwatch.

“Time to go or else you’ll miss the train.”

Everyone stood nearly as one and made their way towards the large double front doors in dark mahogany. Your parents both put on their luxurious robes when your father waved his wand and muttered a spell as two trunks came floating down the stairs. He shrunk them and put them in his pocket before opening the door for everyone to step out of besides your sister. 

She had an early shift at the ministry for her work and wasn't able to come. Not that it bothered you. You never had a good relationship with each other and she proved that by sneering at you, her judgemental eyes raking down your ‘muggle’ looking clothes.

“Try not to disgrace our family name this year, Y/N,” she said as if trying to embarrass you in front of your parents. 

You weren’t the one who had been caught snogging in a broom cupboard during your last year. 

You simply rolled your eyes at her. “I’d say the same thing to you.”

Your father offered you his arm, which you accepted while your mother held tightly to your brother’s hand. Taking a deep breath, you felt the familiar nauseous feeling of being squeezed through a tiny tube when your feet landed back on solid ground. To your annoyance, you stumbled, but your father held tightly to your arm to hinder you from falling completely to the ground. 

It was actions like these that made you feel confused towards the man who was your dad. He played the part well in front of others, taking you and your siblings to the trains each year as well as picking you up during the holidays. Yet his words and expressions were always laced with the monotone coldness you had grown up with. 

Straightening your clothes, you resisted the sad sigh before turning to the familiar, heartwarming sight before you. 

The red magnificent train sent a feeling of safety through you as allowed a small smile. This would be your last year taking it. Your father had already taken out the trunks and turned them back to their original size before turning to you.

“Remember what I told you. We expect nothing less than Outstanding on all your subjects this year,” he reminded sternly as if it was the only thing he could discuss when talking to you. 

Never your wellbeing - just your grades and performance in class.

With that, all the feelings of confusion evaporated quickly from your mind. 

“Yes father, I remember,” you forced yourself to hold the smile at him. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” 

His eyes narrowed at your last sentence but remained silent for your family’s sake. Blaise Zabini was never one for public displays, affection or otherwise. 

“And dress more appropriately next time, Y/N,” Your mother huffed as she glared at where your legs were showing. You wisely chose to hold your tongue at that, knowing nothing good would come out of you smart-mouthing your own mother as well. 

Thankfully it was at that moment the Malfoy family decided to make an appearance, led by Draco himself. He greeted both of your parents and ruffled your little brother’s hair while giving your shoulder a gentle pat. You smiled back at him and his wife, Astoria, giving both of them hugs before discreetly moving toward where their son was standing. 

Scorpius was the same age as you, also starting his seventh year. Not to mention the fact that you were cousins. As you got closer, the gleaming sign of prefect in his hand caught your attention.

“Is that a Prefect sign, Malfoy?” You couldn’t help but ask in amusement as you stood next to him, elbow nudging his. 

His head snapped to the side at your voice, having obviously been lost in thought and giving you an annoyed look. “Jealous, Greengrass?”

“Hah!” You chuckled. “As if. I’d rather not run around the halls after foolish first years.”

“Your brother is a first-year,” Scorpius pointed out.

“Exactly,” You smirked in reply as he shook his head. “Why do you have that anyway?”

“The previous Prefect bailed out apparently, so they needed a new one,” Shrugging, you noticed his eyes glancing around discreetly again. 

“Is that even possible?” 

“Don’t ask me, at least I am one,” Scorpius leered in jest as you scoffed, retaliating smoothly.

“How’s your little girlfriend?”

His silver-blue eyes widened as he slapped a hand over your mouth quickly and you winced at the sudden force. He looked at both of your parents who were far too busy talking about other things.

“Not so loud!” He hissed, bending down to glare.

You pried his hand off you in irritation, before raising your eyebrows at him. “They don’t know?”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Scorpius muttered.

“How can you not tell them you’re dating a Potter?” you asked in disbelief but made sure to keep your voice down. “The whole bloody school knows.”

He gave you a look. “My father would disown me.” How daft of him to even think that, you wanted to cackle. Draco Malfoy disowning his only child? As fucking if. 

“You actually think that?”

“Wouldn’t yours?”

“Well of course he would. He’s my father. But uncle Draco is different, you know that. And your mum just happens to be the nicer sister out of our mothers.”

Scorpius gnawed at his lower lip, guilt obvious at your words. He was well aware of your relationship with his aunt and uncle, and no part of him had planned to make it sound like he wasn't aware of it.

“I’ll tell them. At Christmas.”

Your nose twitched at his cowardice but didn’t bother trying to persuade him anymore. It was his business, after all, cousins or not. You weren’t a meddler. 

“Alright you three, it’s about time for you to get on the train,” Draco then spoke up with a soft tug of his lips as he turned to face your little group - your little brother having been silent and only gawking at the train throughout all the exchanged conversations.

“Yep, see you later Dad, Mum,” Scorpius was quick to place a kiss on Astoria’s cheek and give his father a one-armed hug before vanishing through the crowd and towards the train, trunk in hand.

You could only gape at how quickly he had left you alone at the mercy of your whole family.

Not that Draco and Astoria were the problem. You loved them honestly. But it was a different story when it came to interacting with them in public besides your own parents and what was appropriate in their opinion.

You were never allowed to show a big variety of emotions growing up. Always having to stand tall and unbothered, not let anyone see your weaknesses.

“Are you ready for your last year, sweetheart?” Astoria walked up to you, dainty hands cupping the sides of your face and looking you over with sparkling, nearly black eyes that showed none of the same dead, emptiness her sister did.

And you felt a pinch of sadness inside of you never having been called that from your own mum.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You managed to breathe out, a hint of genuine nerves shining through your hard facade. 

Your aunt and uncle were one of the few you allowed yourself to relax around. And they knew it as well.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Draco assured you gently before turning back to face your father, voice hardening only the slightest, almost in warning. Not that it helped. “Won’t she?”

In contrast to the Malfoys' bright voices, your father's was low and indifferent. “Yes, of course. We expect only the best.”

“Oh come on Blaise,” Draco clapped the back of his best friend, features losing the good-natured look and replaced with a slightly tense smile. “Hogwarts isn’t all about studying.”

If you could, you would have hugged the life out of your uncle for trying his best to make this moment into something more comforting for you. As futile as it was.

“Well you better go Y/N, or else you’ll miss the train,” your mother then spoke up, nothing near the loving tone your aunt had used. "Make sure your brother finds his way around."

“I’ll take my leave then.” Taking a hold of your brother’s smaller hand you lead him towards the train, trunks in hand. Him waving at your family as you got on and the door closed behind you.

You turned around to peer down at him expectantly. “You’ll find your way around right?”

“Yes,” he huffed at you. “I’m not a kid.”

Your lips tugged up, but you kept them at bay. “Of course you’re not.” You ruffled his hair before making your way down the tight crowded hallways of the train.

It seemed like most compartments had already been filled with people, and you tsked in annoyance. Nearing the end of the train one compartment caught your attention with only a single person in it. You couldn’t see who it was, but for now, you could care less. 

Sliding open the door, you leaned against it.

“Do you mind?”

The boy had a head of black hair and looked up as you quickly recognized him.

“Not at all,” Yoongi replied, before turning back to the notebook in his hands.

Not offering any words, you only shook your head in bemusement at his usual behavior.

After making sure your trunk was safely placed above your seat, you sat down closest to the window which also happened to be across from Yoongi. You didn’t bother to say anything to acknowledge him as you crossed your legs and looked out at the scenery passing by.

The only sound in the compartment besides you two breathing was the sound of his pen scribbling on the notebook on his lap in concentration. You couldn’t help but glance over in curiosity a few times - not that you managed to see what he was writing from your seat. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t seated with his usual group of friends around school. They were quite well known around Hogwarts for their apparently attractive looks and powerful family backgrounds.

The perfect young bachelors.

You weren’t the only one coming from a prestigious Slytherin family after all. 

From what you had heard, Yoongi’s family were all pureblood as well, all having gone to Slytherin as he did now. They were one of the most influential Wizarding families in East Asia, being related to the Parks - who were on top of the chain. His parents hadn’t necessarily been death eaters, but it was quite clear which side they stood on during both of the wars yet still managed to leave unscathed. They had moved from Britain and back to South Korea after the fall of Voldemort but then returned when Yoongi had been born. 

Or so you had heard from the sources of gossip. 

Despite being in the same house, you had barely interacted with the guy. It was quickly known during your first year that he was quite the loner. Refusing to open up and befriend anyone except for that close group of his. The only one you knew personally from them was Jimin Park - his cousin. Another Slytherin in the year below you, his personality being strangely kind and sweet for a snake that you could never wrap your head around.

Not to say you were a social butterfly. 

People stayed away from Yoongi because they knew he wasn’t interested. They stayed away from you because they were afraid. 

Some would think that smiling was an unfamiliar concept to you. It was always blank, or when it wasn’t, it was a glare of judgment. The only ones exempted from it were Scorpius or your other friend, Albus Potter. The two boys having been attached by the hip since first year, before adopting a pity looking eleven-year-old you into their circle. 

You’d say your bark was often worse than your bite unless people really gave you a reason to have a taste. 

You wouldn’t want to disappoint them after all. 

Taking another good look at the boy - or man -  sitting across from you. You noted that he had impressively changed quite a bit over the summer. 

He was no longer as thin and lanky as before. His face seemed to have sculpted a bit more, making it look more defined. His hair which was shockingly white-blonde before was back to black and covered his forehead in a deliberate looking mess. Wearing what looked like slacks and a dress shirt, the first three buttons unbuttoned, showcasing the pale skin underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The glint of metal told about the belt he wore around his hips. He wore a pair of luxurious leather dress shoes, not a single scrape on them, and shining to perfection. 

Not that you even expected something remotely cheaper looking from a pureblood.

“If all you’re going to do is stare you might as well talk,” His surprisingly deep voice, contrary to his slighter figure suddenly spoke, raising his head to lift a brow at you.

You simply smirked, not the slightest bothered at being caught. “I didn’t take you for someone to talk.”

“I’m not,” he agreed. “But I usually don’t share compartments either.”

“What happened to your friends?” You questioned, leaning back against the cushioned bench. “Trouble in paradise?”

You saw his lips tug up at your jest before smoothing out again. “More like too much paradise. Everyone needs privacy once in a while.”

You acknowledged his answer with a nod and turned to look back out the window.

“Where’s Malfoy? Expected to see him attached on your hip.”

“Probably busy snogging his girlfriend,” You replied casually.

“Ah,” Yoongi realized. “The Potter girl, isn't it? Or was it Weasley? I always mix up that family.”

“Potter,” You confirmed in amusement. “The youngest if I’m not wrong - sweet Hufflepuff girl, but quite the firecracker.”

“Who would have known; A Potter and Malfoy ending up together,” a snigger was on his lips as he spoke the words.

You returned it. “A snake and a badger. Let’s hope it’ll last.” 

“Badgers are the ones known to consume snakes, you know. Perhaps Malfoy is the one who should watch his back.”

Thinking back on the first meeting between you and the youngest Potter girl, you couldn’t help but find his analogy ironically fitting. A firecracker might even be too gentle of a description when it came to the redhead, but you could see yourself getting along with her in the time to come.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Hm,” He simply hummed in reply before his eyes flickered back to the notebook on his lap, your eyes following him the entire time. You should be ashamed for staring as you did, honestly. He scribbled something down before speaking up again.

“Something on your mind, Greengrass?”

“Just intrigued.”

Yoongi arched his brow in a silent question.

“For being labeled as the loner you are, you’re awfully talkative.”

“Just because I prefer my own company doesn’t mean that I’m anti-social,” He countered calmly.

You couldn’t help but agree with his answer. “Touché.”

You settled back into your seat and leaned your head back with a small inaudible sigh. You never were a fan of the long trip it took to get to Hogwarts. Your body despised being stuck in one place for too long. It always got too uncomfortable and sleep wasn’t even something you considered. 

There was a slight chill in the compartments that brushed against your exposed legs as you unconsciously tried to tighten the blazer around you to keep the goosebumps at bay. Maybe it wasn’t that clever to wear a skirt on the long ride back to school. 

The feeling of some heavy fabric being suddenly placed over your lap made your eyes snap open in surprise. Yoongi was sitting back in his seat and you looked down to see a black leather jacket covering your previously cold legs.

You opened your mouth to say something, but seeing the way he didn’t even spare you a glance and returned to writing in his book, you decided to remain silent. Adjusting the jacket a bit, you closed your eyes again. 

But what you didn’t notice in your relaxed state was the way Yoongi would glance up at you from time to time. 

+ 

It was nearly completely dark outside the next time you opened your eyes. The compartment was empty beside yourself when the door slid open and you met the familiar green eyes of your best friend.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Albus Potter stated as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. His black hair was disheveled on top of his head as always. This time you allowed yourself to smile genuinely with no fear of judgment.

“Sorry,” You muttered and shook your head. “I lost track of time.”

He took another glance at you before questioning. “Did you sleep?”

“I guess so,” You shrugged in reply, though you were put off at the revelation. You had simply closed your eyes to rest them like always but managed to lull yourself to sleep. 

“Well, you better get changed,” Albus clicked his tongue and glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist that he received for his 17th birthday just a month previously. “We’re nearly there and you’re probably the last one still lounging around.”

“Alright, alright,” You waved him off sounding annoyed, but a part of you had missed his punctual nagging and welcomed the familiarity of it.

Albus stepped inside the compartment as you stood up, just to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into a hug, that you wholeheartedly accepted. A near sigh of relief coming from you.

You had missed the comfort of your best friend being stuck inside the cold manor of your family for half of the summer. 

“I missed you,” Albus must have known how bad you’ve had it, or Scorpius had filled him in, that nosy fool. 

“I missed you too.”

With a peck against your cheek, he stepped back outside and shut the door with the blinds falling down to conceal you from prying eyes. 

That was when you noticed the jacket laying by your feet. Picking it up you simply stared at it for a few seconds before shaking your head.

You managed to change quickly by summoning your uniform and replacing them in the trunk. Straightening out the plain gray skirt and tucking your white blouse in the waistband. Finishing with the stockings and putting on your shoes, you felt the train lurching to a stop and saw the station outside the windows. 

Tucking your wand in your pocket and draping the leather jacket over your shoulders, you stepped outside the compartment to see Scorpius had joined Albus in waiting for you.

“So sleeping beauty has finally joined us,” Your cousin smirked at you.

“Oh shut up, I wasn’t the one running off to snog my girlfriend and leaving my cousin for the sharks,” Was your retort, seeing the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Shut it both of you,” Albus groaned. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

With a girlish giggle, you only let yourself make around your closest friends, you looped your arms through both of theirs before starting to pull them towards the exit. The three of you managed to push through the excited first years and towards the carriages.

The younger students automatically moved out of the way seeing three upper years waltzing up. You had seen a glimpse of your younger brother, but he quickly vanished within the crowd after being led towards the boats.

When the carriages finally came to a stop, Albus helped you step down before making your way inside the familiar stone structure.

A visible smile of comfort was drawn on all three as you looked around the castle.

“Can’t believe it’s our last year,” Scorpius spoke on the way toward the Great Hall.

“It’s surreal,” Albus agreed. “I’m gonna miss Hogwarts.”

Me too, you couldn’t help but think back but decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

The only positive thing about leaving the magical school was the fact that you could finally move out for yourself. There was no need to live in the suffocating manor of your parents anymore now that you were seventeen and nearly graduated.

The Great Hall was in an excited buzz for the start of the term. People from all houses were racing across the room to greet friends after the long break. The three of you made your way over to the table covered in mostly green and silver before sitting down at the complete end, closest to the doors. It was where the graduating students usually sat, with the first years closest to the front. 

You couldn’t help but try to look around in curiosity in search of one certain snake in your year, but it was hard to find someone in the masses of the crowd with such a neutral hair color like black.

“Is that a new jacket?” Albus questioned you as he noticed the leather draped over your shoulder.

“Uh no, borrowed it from a...friend,” you hesitated at the words and he noticed it quickly.

“Really?”

“No, not really.” 

“Who gave it to you?” He continued to probe.

“You know Yoongii?” You turned your head to look at him seated beside you.

“It’s his jacket?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I was cold and he leant it to me.”

“I never took him for someone who cared,” Scorpius added in the conversation. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the two of you. 

“Neither did I, but I was apparently wrong.”

“Wonder why he gave up the Prefect position,” Albus mused as you frowned. 

“Wait - he was the previous Prefect?” You asked in surprise. “Since when?”

Both of your best friends gave you exaggerated looks. 

“What do you mean since when, since he was chosen in fifth year, what else,” your cousin snorted. 

Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulder so suddenly that you couldn’t help but jump and let out a curse, knocking your knee against the underside of the table - your heart racing frantically inside your chest.

Laughter broke out from your friends as you whipped around to glare at the culprit that scared you. 

“Bloody hell Parkinson, get a life will you!” You snapped, fond irritation coating your words at the guy guffawing behind you.

Liam Parkinson, the only son of the newly divorced Pansy Parkinson, was laughing. He had the same light brown hair as his mother with her dark eyes. With about a head taller than yourself, the guy waltzed around Hogwarts boasting his lean and muscular build that came from being a beater towards any girls who would fall for his tricks. 

“Come on now, love. No need to be so uptight,” With a smirk, he slid into the bench next to you.

“How was summer, mate?” Scorpius asked him through his own snickering, propping an elbow up on the table, chin against his hand lazily. 

“Dreadful,” Liam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Mum’s been moping every single day. Don’t even know why. It’s not like my father was dad of the year either.”

“Sorry to hear,” Albus grimaced at those words, having grown well-known of the drama that apparently followed pureblood Slytherins everywhere they went. 

“Yeah, I wish my parents would get a divorce,” Your blunt words were no surprise for anyone. “Can’t handle having the two of them in the same room.”

“She mostly spent summer with us anyways,” Your cousin added.

“Thank Merlin for the Malfoys.”

Before they could continue, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened up, hushing all conversations in the room. A long line of first years started to stumble inside, looking around in amazement. You caught your brother’s eye as you sent him a quick wink in encouragement.

But after seven years of the same thing, the sorting went by dreadfully slow for your taste as you tried to hide your chuckles from the foolish things your friends were whispering about. When you heard your brother’s name being called, you perked up to see him nervously step up to the stool before the hat was placed on his head. There was only a 10-second wait when his house was called out.

“Ravenclaw!”

You didn’t hold back your applause as you cheered for him like the table clad in blue and bronze.

“Hey, who would have thought? First Greengrass not be sorted into Slytherin,” Liam commented as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder.

“He’s not the first one,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Just the only one currently alive.”

“You think your parents will be okay with it?” Albus asked you.

You nodded. “It’s better than Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I think they expected it.”

The sorting flew by after that along with the speech of Headmistress McGonagall who wished everyone back to Hogwarts to do their best, along with addressing the new Head boy and Girl. Who happened to be Albus and a girl from Hufflepuff you had never heard of before. 

It was when dinner began that people rose up from their assigned house tables and sat with their friends instead. It was such a usual occurrence now that no one even reacted. The Great Hall went from going color-coordinated to a sea of green, blue, red, and yellow all mixed together. 

You were just glancing over your shoulder when you caught the familiar face of Yoongi sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with his usual group. That reminded you of the leather jacket now draped across your lap. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends, standing up and making your way over.

The seven boys weren’t one of the silent groups, that was for sure. And you noticed how they seemed to differ in years as well, not only houses. But they quickly saw you coming in their direction as they looked on in curiosity.

You ignored all of them as you took hold of the jacket and addressed the owner. “You forgot this.”

Yoongi simply stared up at you for a second before accepting the clothing you held out. “It seemed like you needed it more than me.”

“What a gentleman." You allowed yourself the smallest hint of a half smirk. “But you might not be so lucky to have it returned next time.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. “Next time?”

“Don’t be a stranger, Min,” was all you said before turning around and sitting back down with your friends, who all looked at you strangely.

They had never seen you go out of your way to get to know someone. Even if that someone was in the same year and house. 

“What was that all about?” Liam questioned you.

You took a sip of your pumpkin juice. “I think I just made a new friend.”

+

The semester was kicking your arse only two months in. Flooding you with homework and preparations for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, your professors turned merciless to make sure everyone was prepared. 

With prideful parents like yours, they only expected the best. You had two acceptable choices in their book. It was either becoming a Ministry official or the Department of Mysteries. 

You never were fond of the second choice, and the thought of becoming an Unspeakable didn’t sit well with you. Not after everything you had read about what happened there during the war. Becoming a ministry official seemed the logical choice, your attention being on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry Potter himself was the head and had changed tremendously in the years since his appointment, having become one of the most praised departments in the British Magical community. 

However, with Hermione Granger as the current Minister of Magic, there wasn’t much of the Ministry to be talked badly about with how much effort the past war heroes have done to make sure everything was going in a positive direction. 

Too bad they couldn’t change your family too.

Putting down the quill in your hand, you glared at the stack of books by your side and several pieces of parchments being filled to the brim. Your body ached from sitting for too long, and the air in the library was starting to feel suffocating to you.

“That doesn’t look pleasant,” a voice suddenly commented at the sight of the table you sat on.

You weren’t even surprised anymore to hear that voice near you.

Yoongi and you had developed a strange sort of friendship ever since the compartments.

It wasn’t one where the two of you spent time together to hang out. But rather silent companionship, where words were spoken freely without fear of insults or hurt feelings. You were both too damn stubborn for that. 

You never sought out for each other’s company. Simply conversing whenever you cross paths. And it happened more often than you would have imagined.

“Never said it was,” You mumbled without turning around and stretching your stiff fingers.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Yoongi asked over your shoulder.

You could sense the way he was scanning your writing and what you were working on.

Taking a look at the watch on your wrist you shrugged. “Since 12.”

“On a Sunday of all things?” there was amusement with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Glancing up at him you arched an eyebrow. “So Mr. Antisocial has never studied on a Sunday before?”

“Believe it or not, I do have a life you know,” Was his reply while walking around the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of you.

“I find that hard to believe,” you leaned forward with a leer as he narrowed his eyes at you good-naturedly.

“How unfortunate for me,” he drawled.

You snorted unattractively, before leaning back in your chair with a stretch of your arms. “What brings you to the library on a weekend then?”

“I’m bored,” Yoongi replied. “And Namjoon was getting too intellectual for my taste.”

“Namjoon?” You pondered over the name. “The Ravenclaw prefect in our year?”

“The very same.”

“Well if I don’t remember wrong, he is one of the top three students.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that his rants are annoying. Jeongguk isn’t like that,” he pointed out.

“Ah yes, I remember him,” You chuckled. “Cute kid. Though he ran off when he bumped into me once.”

“Must have been your charming smile,” Yoongi taunted with a sarcastic smirk as you sneered at him in irritation. “Perhaps stop glaring at everyone you see?”

“I did not glare at him, thank you very much,” You sniffed in a dismissive manner. “I hardly did anything before he squeaked out an apology and ran as if a Hungarian Horntail was after him.”

“And there you have Jeongguk for you,” he smiled in amusement at the picture of the fifth-year Ravenclaw running off at the sight of you. “Maybe you should stop being so intimidating.”

You stared blankly at him. “Says you.”

“I’m pretty certain people don’t run away from me in fear.”

“Fear makes people respect you,” You replied as you gathered all your parchments in a neat pile to take back with you to the common room.

“I’m sure that’s what Voldemort thought as well,” he mused.

“Whatever,” Scoffing, you stood up with an almost sassy quality to the way you propped your hips out to the side staring down at him. “You don’t see me planning to take over the Wizarding World now, do you? Too much of a hazard.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, half smirk on his lips. “How would I know? You could be conspiring up a plan as we speak.”

“Funny,” A blank statement coming from you. “Well you’re starting to annoy me, so I’m leaving.”

With those words, you turned around with your things and walked away. 

“You’re welcome!” he called after you. 

Walking out of the library you headed towards the dungeons People from other houses might find the lower levels of the castle uncomfortable and a hint creepy. But you found comfort in the dim lights and darkened hallways. After going through them every day for the past seven years, you do get used to it. 

But the cool air reminded you too much of your home with your parents which sent unwanted shivers across your skin. 

With a mutter of the password in front of the entrance, it swung open allowing you inside. It was mostly empty, seeing how it was Sunday after all. And most people were probably still hanging around at Hogsmeade before classes started again in the morning. 

But a particular figure lounging on the black leather couch in front of the fire caught your attention. You walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him as you put your things on the table in front of you. He didn’t even acknowledge your existence as you looked at him. 

“What’s with the face?” You asked. 

Liam Parkinson let out a dramatic sigh as he leaned further back on the couch, looking positively devastated.

Or at least he tried to. You knew the guy far too well to know when he was playing it up. 

“I’m being dumped by my two best friends...” he muttered miserably. 

“What did they do?” You questioned while your lips twitched. 

“Hanging out with their girlfriends is what.” He was actually sulking, dear Merlin. “Leaving me all alone.”

“Wait, I thought Albus and that Jordan girl broke up before summer?” You said confused. 

“They did,” Liam agreed. “But apparently they contacted each other again during the break and are trying to ‘figure things out’.” He said in question marks. “Whatever that bloody means.”

You noticed how bitter those words sounded as you suppressed a laugh.  

“Awe, come on now Parkinson,” you cooed teasingly and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll tell Albus of your heartbreak.”

He glared. “You’re a cunt, you know that?”

“I’ve heard worse,” You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You know, I haven’t snogged anyone in over six months,” Liam told you like it was the most scandalous event to exist. 

“I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Yeah, so am I!” he nodded his head vigorously. 

“What, no French girls that caught your attention?” Referring to his trip to France with his family during the summer break.

“None...” he grumbled, before suddenly perking up again. Suddenly his face was uncomfortably close to yours as you stared at him weirdly. 

“Snog me, Y/N.”

You simply scoffed as you put a finger on his forehead and pushed him away. 

“I’m not gonna snog you, Parkinson.” 

“Why not?” Liam whined out. 

“I don’t go around kissing friends.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” He pointed out as you arched an eyebrow. 

“Not when it comes to your intimate needs.”

“Is this because of Min?” 

You paused for a moment. “What about him?”

“I mean you have been spending awfully a lot of time with him,” Liam pointed out. 

“It’s not like I seek him out.” It wasn’t your fault the castle was awfully small these days. “We just happen to cross paths a lot. We’re in the same house and year.”

“Still,” Your friend shrugged. “Why now? You’ve had six years to talk to him.”

You only shook your head in a dismissive way and didn’t bother to reply. 

The truth was that you didn’t have an answer for him. 

You wondered yourself; Why now?

+

The Great Hall was pretty vacant on a Wednesday afternoon. Many still in their last class for the day, while others were lucky enough to have a free period before dinner and chose to spend the time outside before winter drew closer. 

Yoongi was counted as one of the lucky ones as he sat by the long table, his friends of the same age sitting on either side of him.

Namjoon was busy scribbling down notes from a Transfiguration book, his black-rimmed glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, while Hoseok was staring out into space, absently making a napkin float in the air with his wand. They only missed Seokjin from the same year who was a Gryffindor, but he was too busy with Quidditch practice to be with them.

The boys had three other friends in their close-knit group. But they were younger than them, so classes were scheduled differently.

Yoongi himself wasn’t doing much as he sat there silently reading a book he didn’t even remember the plot of. He must have spaced off some time ago as he read the same sentence over and over again.

A screech pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he looked up to see a familiar black owl swooping towards him. The bird elegantly settled itself on the table in front of him with a letter in its beak.

Taking it, Yoongi gave an affectionate scratch on top of his head. “Thanks, Hades.”

With another sharp squeak, the owl opened its wings and flew back out.

Yoongi looked down at the envelope and let out a sigh as he recognized the rich and thick parchment.

“Another one?” Hoseok’s voice asked him sympathetically.

“Yeah,” the Slytherin only said while he ripped open the dark purple wax seal.

Yoongi.

Your father and I trust that your studies are going well. Keep a reminder that this is your last chance for the highest grades if you have ever cared about your future. We will be visiting your cousin for Christmas - she is getting married to a very high standing officer within the Ministry of East Asia. You should learn something from her. 

Nevertheless, you’ll have to remain at Hogwarts this year. And do not think I have forgotten about your childish decision to drop the Prefect position without consulting us. You will go through with this marriage, which will only benefit our family. So stop being selfish and think of our family for once. 

Do try to keep your distance from those of lesser positions, my dear. We wouldn’t want to taint this arrangement anymore than necessary.

Mother. 

His eyes scanned over the elegant writing of his mother, for each sentence his jaw tightened in annoyance and frustration. The letter was finished with the familiar seal of his family. As if it was some kind of formal greeting instead of just a message to her son.

After finishing it, he threw it on the table as Hoseok reached out for the parchment to see for himself. 

“Is she still going on about that engagement?” Namjoon then spoke up, attention never pulled away from his scribbling. 

“Seems like I have no choice anymore,” Yoongi grumbled out his reply with dark eyes. 

He heard a scoff to his side and glanced over at his Hufflepuff friend. “And she never forgets to remind you to keep away from mudbloods and blood traitors, I see,” he did air quotations as he said the terms, not even the slightest bothered even if he knew a part of it was directed to him. 

“You know my mother’s obsession with blood purity,” Yoongi could only shake his head in shame at that. 

“Do you know who the family is?” Namjoon cut in, changing the subject. 

“Of the bride? No idea. They haven’t even told me who they’re considering. Knowing them it’s probably some pureblood snob from a powerful family.”

“They can’t actually force you, can they?” Hoseok asked in disbelief. “I mean it’s your life!”

“If only it was that easy, mate,” He sighed, now suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation resting on his shoulders. 

“Why, you’re already seventeen. There’s nothing they can do,” the Hufflepuff countered fiercely.

“Technically they can’t,” Namjoon said, closing his book gently, back straightening, and both knew he was about to come with another intellectual fact of his. “But you also have to remember that without contact with his family, Yoongi wouldn’t have anything to live on. His Gringotts account is connected to his family name. So if he were to just drop it all and run away, it would be futile.”

“He has us!” Hoseok argued. “It’s not like we would let our friend roam around without money.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Yoongi then snapped, before taking a deep breath. “As much as I despise my blood, I’m not going to spit on my pride and borrow money from any of you.”

“Then what are you going to do?” His friend asked with a look. “You’re not just going to let them ship you off to some unknown girl?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the girl that’s coming to him. If we account for the misogynistic traits of pureblood families.” Namjoon decided to correct, as both of the men present rolled their eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi admitted. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it's that I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“Is that why you dropped out of the prefect position?” Hoseok asked, finally bringing up the subject their whole group had been curious about ever since the term started. “Because of the arrangement?”

“Just a last attempt at trying to persuade my mother. Didn’t exactly work,” Yoongi scoffed, remembering back to his last desperate attempt to try and change his parent's mind. 

When he had first gotten Prefect in his fifth year, Yoongi could admit that he had been quite proud. He was raised to become a great leader and at that time was still under the influence of his parents' larger-than-life ambitions for him. Luckily it wasn’t like that anymore and he was his own person now. Though a person is still chained to his family name. 

“Since when did you and Greengrass get close?” Namjoon suddenly asked. “My girl says she’s quite scary.”

“Your girl?” Hoseok repeated amused, leaning forward in interest. “You mean the girl you met in the library? I thought that was just a one-time thing. How does she even know Greengrass?”

The Ravenclaw shrugged, though there was a visible blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. “We just started to hang out and things changed. Besides, she's a Slytherin as well.”

“The girl who dyed my hair pink?” Yoongi deadpanned as both of his friends snorted at the reminder. 

“I thought you quite liked the look,” Hoseok smirked mischievously. 

“I was just too lazy to change it.'' The older male defended himself, even though he had spent the rest of the semester wearing the shocking color. “And we’re just talking, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged glances without the knowledge of their other friend. 

“What if she’s the one you’re arranged to marry?” Namjoon joked. 

“Hah! That would be something,” Hoseok laughed before high-fiving him. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the antics of friends. “You’re both insane.”

Yet a part of him whispered almost tauntingly, but what if?

He brushed it away quickly. 

+

Staring up at the black iron gates that separated you from your house caused you to heave out a tired sigh. The feeling of the impending doom somehow wouldn’t go away. 

You had been called up to the headmistress’ office on a whim while you were on your way to the Great Hall for some dinner. Apparently, there had been an urgent message coming from your mother demanding your presence back at the manor for the evening. 

Knowing your mother, you knew she was probably just being overdramatic about something that didn’t have to do with you but still wanted to have you there for just one reason; they were having guests over and wanted to give the overall false image of a happy and complete family. 

The entire idea of having to play pretend with your parents and obnoxious sister made you want to spend the night in Azkaban instead because your youngest brother had not been called him. 

Taking out your wand, you waved it in front of you as the protective shield identified you as one of the residents before flickering away for a moment to allow you access. The metal gates ground open as you made your way down the path to your house.

After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you remained silent for a couple of seconds, trying to detect the sounds of chattering coming from the dining room - but there were none. 

Sighing again, you realized you had unfortunately managed to arrive before the guests had. 

“Y/N is that you?”

Before you had the chance to even think about escaping, your mother suddenly came from the direction of the library as she spotted you.

“Merlin, how slow can you be with a portkey at your disposal?” She shook her head before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you into the direction of the living room, her nails digging uncomfortably into your skin. 

“No one told me anything,” You defended yourself before shaking off her hold and walking the rest of the distance yourself. 

“That doesn’t matter now. You’re late and have no time to change and make yourself presentable,” she scowled in reply.

The only people in the living room were your father and sister, both looking presentable and clean - like a pureblood family should look. You stood out from your family’s pristine and overpriced robes being dressed in your Hogwarts uniform. 

You felt your father scan you from head to toe with his chilling and disapproving gaze as you avoided looking at him. You also noticed how your sister just wasn’t looking presentable. She had dressed up more than usual, adorning a velvet emerald green dress that flared out from her waist and to her knees, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a sweetheart neckline. 

Something was definitely going on. 

“Who are we waiting for?” You dared to question your family in the room. 

Your mother rolled her eyes as if expecting you to know the answer already and guilt-tripping you for not being more involved in family affairs. 

“Your sister’s fiance and his family are coming for a visit, how could you forget?” She tsked. 

Ah, the so-called arranged marriage that you had heard about for the past couple of months. You didn’t know about the family or the guy, but they were obviously wealthy enough for your parents to look their best. 

And how were you supposed to know that it was today?

“Then why am I here? I’m not the one getting married,” You responded slightly annoyed. 

“Y/N, stop being rude and behave yourself!” Your father snapped in reply as you flinched back. “I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No foolish remarks, understood?”

With a clench of your fists, you nodded mutely, not offering any words in fear of your anger showing and making him even more pissy. Your sister simply scoffed before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress with an excited glint in her eyes. 

“Mother, do you think he’ll like me?” She asked with the voice of an innocent girl as you resisted the urge to show your irritation. 

“Of course he will, darling!” Your mother cooed, patting down her hair gently. “Any man would be a fool not to like you.”

“We’ll see about that,” You muttered to yourself as your sibling heard and sent you a fleeting glare while you smirked in reply. 

It was at that moment that the flames of your fireplace rose up high and turned green as your family all waited for the guests. The first one to step out was a man. He was smaller than your father in his height and had a bit of a belly prodding out. His hair was black and slicked back and his looks were East Asian. Korean at the looks of things. 

A woman came out next. Small and petite, but with a stern gaze that calculated if you were worthy to be in her presence or not. They were both dressed in expensive clothes, with sparkling pearls adorning the neck of the woman, and a golden watch on the wrist of the man. 

“Dong Wook, Yoon Hee! So good to see you two again!” Your mother went forward to greet both of them enthusiastically, your father following her lead, though a lot more subdued and only offering polite handshakes. You were pretty certain your mother had butchered their names though, holding back a snort. 

“Ah yes, it has been quite a while,” the woman, Yoon Hee, replied calmly with a stiff smile. She reminded you of a statue.

“We are looking forward to this union as much as you are,” The man spoke up, a slight accent in his voice. 

“Of course - where is your son?” Blaise Zabini asked the other couple. 

As you waited uninterested for the supposed husband to arrive, you didn’t offer to introduce yourself and instead kept silent in the background. 

“He was just behind u - oh here he comes.”

Simply being curious by nature, you came a bit closer to the huddling group to get a good look at the guy your sister was to marry. 

It wasn’t someone you expected to see. 

+

He was frozen. 

Not only that, but he was completely speechless as well. 

Min Yoongi was frozen and speechless. And it wasn’t often that someone managed to render him to that state.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he stepped out of the flames. 

A posh-looking family dressed in their finest robes ready to impress his family? That’s exactly what he got. But the addition of you standing next to them in your Hogwarts uniform definitely caught him off guard for a moment.

But it was just that. A single moment.

He couldn’t let his parents see his slip-up.

But he wanted to laugh. Not only laugh but actually cackle at the fucking irony after his conversation with his friends in the Great Hall. A small bloody world, indeed. 

And by the look of things, it wasn’t you who was assigned as his bride-to-be. Rather your sister, who looked far too excited for his taste.

Yoongi remained silent as he stayed behind his parents, still easily seen because of his superior height in comparison to them. He simply offered a polite nod and tense smile to the three Greengrass family members, who seemed determined to keep the pleasant conversation flowing between them and his parents. 

But he couldn’t help his gaze from straying to where you stood. Several times actually.

It was obvious you were the odd one out. Not just because of your clothing. The distance you kept was fairly obvious, and your facial expressions told him that you’d rather be anywhere else right now. 

The next time he glanced at you again, he was fairly embarrassed to see you already looking at him.

You were arching your eyebrow up in an expression that obviously asked: “Thought I didn’t notice?”

“Yoongi, why don’t you let your fiancé give you a tour of the house and get to know each other?” His mother suggested, sounding pleasantly polite, but her eyes that stared at him told him he had no other choice. 

“Of course, you two go on then,” Mrs. Greengrass agreed and ushered her eldest daughter to his side. 

Just as he was about to follow her out of the room, he heard your voice speak up in the most polite tone he had ever experienced from you. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I took my leave then, mother?”

Yoongi only managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on your parent's faces, but it wasn't good. 

“Why don’t you join them?” His father suddenly spoke up. “Y/N was it?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Manners,” he nodded approvingly. “We’re to be family, after all, you should join them.”

Your eyes flickered to where he stood and the clear reluctance in them made him have to smother his chuckle into a small cough. 

“But they’re to be married, shouldn’t the two of them spend the time together?” Your mother argued back, voice strained and trying to remain courteous. 

Yoongi’s mother shrugged. “Like my husband said, we are to be family after all. And they’ll have more than enough time to get to know each other during their marriage.” The finality in her words was obvious as Mrs. Greengrass simply nodded. 

He saw you nodding at his parents with a strained smile before making your way over to where he stood with your sister, her hands already holding onto his arm impatiently. 

When the three of you got out of the dining hall and out of hearing range of the adults, his fiancé - which he still didn’t know the name of - was quick to speak up. 

“Couldn’t you just have remained silent, Y/N?” She spoke to you in annoyance as you sent her a sarcastic smile. 

“I couldn’t exactly say no either, Isla ” you retorted from the other side of him. 

Ah, so that was her name. 

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Isla, now glared. 

You never let lost the, frankly, malicious expression. “Oh yes, because third wheeling on you and your fiancé’s awkward first meeting was my ultimate goal.”

“That’s a bit offensive, how would you know if I’m awkward” Yoongi finally spoke up after arriving, sniggering like a five-year-old at the look you sent him. 

“It’s not offensive if it’s true,” You replied with a careless shrug. “And I do know you. You might think you’re a smooth talker, but this screams awkwardness.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too cocky right now?” He arched an eyebrow. “We are to be family, after all, sister.”

Your face scrunched up at the word as you punched him in the arm. “That’s disgusting, don’t call me that.”

Yoongi had stumbled slightly to the side, letting out a short laugh at your expression. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

Both of you stopped and turned to look at Isla, who was looking somewhat confused and angry at the same time. 

“What?” You asked her. 

“You two know each other?”

“Isn’t that quite obvious?” Yoongi drawled in reply, looking at her blankly.

“We’re in the same house and year, how do you expect us not to know each other?” You felt the need to clarify for your sister. 

“Why do you always have to ruin things for me, Y/N?” Isla sneered. 

“News flash, darling,” You returned it. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” 

Rather than replying, Isla simply huffed, grabbing his arm again and pulling him along rather forcefully as Yoongi simply let her. Not a single part of him had been interested or engaged in today’s meeting. But with your presence at his back, following them leisurely, he couldn’t help but be slightly more present with how things would turn out. 

Yoongi hardly paid attention every time Isla spoke and pointed out something of the Greengrass Manor as they walked through the dark, cold halls. He hummed here and there to keep up the pretense of giving a shit, and he knew you knew it as well with your scoffs and snorts now and then as your sister thought she was saying something interesting. They must have walked through a part where your bedroom was located, because he noticed your presence behind him suddenly ducking into a door to Isla’s ignorance, and he took his chance.

“Do you mind pointing me towards the bathroom?” Yoongi kept his voice neutral, and she was more than happy to. “I’ll meet you downstairs with the others, this might take a while.” This time he sugarcoated a bit of a charming smile to convince her to leave, and it worked. 

He waited a few seconds before coming back out and saw the hall empty, making his way towards the door you had slipped into, noticing how it was a smidge open. With a simple push of his hand, it opened with a quiet creak and he took in the spacious space curiously. Decorated after your taste in shades of dark burgundy and browns, a contrast to the rest of the house. But the chilly air remained. 

“Find anything you like?” 

His eyes snapped to your form lounging on a reading nook right by the large windows seeing out into the vast estate gardens, it being pitch black outside. You were leaning against a heap of pillows, a blanket loosely pulled over your bare legs in the uniform. 

“You snuck away, so I was worried.”

“Worried, or curious?” 

Yoongi offered a half-hearted tug of his lips. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” You glanced at him again, taking in his form leaning against the doorway casually. “You can come in, you know.”

“Didn’t want to risk getting hexed, is all.”

“If I wanted to hex you, I would have done it in the compartment.”

“Fair enough.”

Walking inside the room leisurely, he couldn’t help but feel like you were offering him a glimpse of your true self. It was decorated in a way to try and chase away the coldness of the house and your family itself, with colours that reminded him of Gryffindors rather than that of a snake in the dungeons. 

You shifted slightly, and he took the silent invitation to sit down beside you on the wide, pillowed window seat, a few inches of space between you. 

“So? Marriage, huh.”

“Still in talks,” Yoongi mused mysteriously. 

“You obviously don’t want to.”

“Hm, was it my expression that gave it away?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, kicking a foot against his thigh. He simply chuckled. 

“Were you even aware?”

“Sure, been for a while. But I never knew who.”

“What’s your verdict?”

His brown eyes met yours, almost with a sparkle in the dim lighting of your room. “That I’m not the only one with family issues.”

You both shared a laugh at the truth of that. 

“That’s to put it lightly.”

“How about you? No prospects set up in your future?”

“Merlin, no.” You scoffed, an almost ironic chuckle following. “My parents would never offer me up to anyone. I’m too…risky. Stubborn and prideful too. They’ve given up on my romantic life and only care about the career aspect of it.”

“I wish that was me.” Yoongi shifted closer, his thigh touching your stocking-covered feet, shoes already on the hardwood floor. 

As if testing the waters of your strange friendship with him, you stretched your legs lightly only to rest them across his lap, and he turned an amused gaze towards you at the action but didn’t push them off. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Your voice was teasing as he shook his head. 

“You want a foot massage at that too, Greengrass?”

“If you’re offering-” Your words cut off in a slight squeal as his fingers tickled the underside of it. “Stop it!”

Luckily he did, but not before grinning mischievously, instead resting his hands on your calves surprisingly relaxed. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in the last two months since the train, a strange yet not-so-abnormal development. 

“We should probably get back down before they start looking.”

Yoongi hummed, agreeing to your statement. “We should.” Yet he didn’t bother moving.

Looking up from your lap you were surprised to him already staring at you. Or observing might be the better word, because there was no hiding the curiosity shining in those, frankly, hypnotizing brown eyes. 

Licking your dry lips, his eyes flickered down to the motion as you clicked your tongue almost smugly. “Anything interesting to see?”

Your body stiffened unexpectedly at the warmth of his surprisingly large hands curling around your calves, his lean body leaning forward with a small, suspicious smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Greengrass.”

Flicking up a brow, you kept your nonchalant attitude. “And if I was?”

“That would be quite the scandal, wouldn’t it?” He kept his voice low, lower than his natural voice which was already deep enough to sometimes grate against your skin. “I’m to be your future brother-in-law after all.”

“Thought you weren’t interested in marriage?” You couldn’t help but goat him further, straightening in your lounged position against the pillows that drifted you further towards him. 

“Would still cause a scandal.”

“I don’t peg you for someone who gives a shit,” Your blunt words were rewarded with a huff of his low laugh as you swallowed. Were you nervous? 

“Well, now you’re just tempting me,” Yoongi’s dark eyes were dangerously intense, looking you over as if you wore something much more interesting than the rumpled Hogwarts uniform. 

“Tempting you?” You repeated, not managing to keep your laughter at bay, lips slightly pulling back and revealing your teeth in a small grin. “Didn’t know I was someone able to tempt you.”

His surprise this time seemed to be genuine. “Are you serious?”

Your arms crossed almost defensively. “What?”

“You don’t think guys are interested in you?”

“I didn’t say that,” You replied calmly. “Even so, they hardly make the effort to let me know they’re interested.”

“I told you, it’s the evil smirk and glare you always waltz around with.”

You kicked his leg again in retaliation, as Yoongi laughed, managing to grab a hold of it and tug you forward surprisingly quickly for his lazy demeanor, your thighs now resting sideways on his lap. 

“You are a menace,” You muttered, no real ire in the words, gaze flickering back up to his. 

He was thinking about something, or considering it. That much was obvious to your keen eyes, but you weren’t sure of the specifics. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded a bit too relaxed, however. 

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something,” You pointed out almost a little bit too obnoxiously. It didn’t seem to bother him. 

His tongue dragged along the inside of his lower lip as he gave himself just a couple seconds to debate saying what immediately came to mind. 

“I’m thinking of kissing you.” 

Your breath caught, throat seemingly drying up at the bold admission. Your widened eyes taking him in and expecting a joke to follow the words. But he remained scarily serious, lips never twitching up into a smile, only taking in your reaction carefully.

Bloody hell, he was being serious.

As if opening some secret door in your mind, your eyes really took him in this time around. Starting from his immaculate black clothes to his hands and ending at his face, his surprisingly soft-looking lips capturing your attention. 

“That’s…certainly interesting,” You croaked, not managing anything else.

Those mesmerizing pink lips pulled up into the hint of a smirk, feeling much closer than before. “Is it?”

“Scandalous, actually,” You whispered nearly dazed, before managing to look into his eyes again. 

Shit, he was close. Suddenly comprehending the warmth of his hands placed on your thighs above your skirt, the blanket having somehow slipped to the floor and his face only inches away from your own. 

“Very scandalous,” Yoongi hummed, a low sound that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit. “But tempting, no?”

He was getting closer, only a whisper of a breath away from yourself. His breath was fresh, probably having brushed his teeth before arriving with the smell of his spicy, yet tantalizing cologne tickling your nose. 

“They could kill us for this.” There was no secret who they were, with both of your families still waiting downstairs, oblivious to the thoughts both of you were having in the privacy of your room.

"Your best friend is Albus Potter. I'm sure he can convince his father to spare us from the wrath of our uptight parents."

His joke hardly helped.

Your attention was suddenly reminded of the still open door, but before you could say anything it gently flicked shut with a wave of Yoongi’s wand and a murmur of a spell, which you recognized as a silencing spell as well as a detection one just in case.

“Are you afraid?” His whisper ghosted over your skin, the familiar hint of your defiance returning to his satisfaction, scoffing and giving a look of ‘Really?’

He continued, aware of his selfish desires as his goading continued, but not caring enough about the consequences to stop. “What’s stopping you then?”

You took a deep breath as if trying to calm yourself. But the moment you opened your eyes again, Yoongi knew you had decided as a brow flicked up in expectation. 

“Is it ladies first in this situation then?”

With a grin he hardly noticed on himself, Yoongi surged forward with a hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your lips against his firmly, a breath whooshing out of your nose at the action. There was no hesitation on his part as he pulled one of your legs over his hips and switching your positions so you straddled him. 

Your hands traveled up his nape and curled into the strands of his hair as your mouth opened to return the intense kiss. His tongue licked into your own, as he let out a sigh of relief almost, your heart thundering inside your ribcage, wanting to be closer to him, as you did just that. 

Bodies flush against each other you returned his kiss enthusiastically. Feeling his hands slipping underneath the untucked shirt, your breath hitched. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder what other sounds he could get you make. Your fingers combed their way into the back of his hair, carding through the soft strands of it as he gripped at your hips. One hand dragged heavily up your spine, guiding you to arch further forward and against him.

A protest lay ready on your lips as you felt him pull back, only to turn into a soft moan as his lips traveled down your jaw and the sensitive skin of your neck, head tilting to the side to give him more access. 

Actually, you wanted him to continue his kisses exactly there, finger tightened and trying to hold him there in light demand, as Yoongi chuckled against you, teeth nipping gently in response. 

His mouth returned to yours, intense kisses turning slightly more desperate for you as you shifted, hips rising and aligned with his own before grinding down to chase after the heat that had taken over your body, one place specifically flaring for attention. 

He groaned lightly, body leaning back to give you more access this time around, and you continued the slow roll of your hips, skirt bunching around your waist as his hands left your hips and trailed down the sides of your thighs, the stinging cold of his silver ring following that you hadn’t noticed. 

You felt him hardening quickly beneath your ministrations. But it was affecting you more than him, with only the barrier of your knickers separating your throbbing clit compared to the material of his slacks as well as underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Yoongi murmured softly, finally finding the strength to pull back from your tempting lips. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Min Yoongi,” You breathed out harshly. 

“Oh yeah? Is that a demand, love?” He had the fucking audacity to smile at you, innocently at that, as if he didn’t know what you were going through, his hands cupping the cheeks of your arse and holding you tightly against him.  

With another pointed grind of your hips, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head with a grunt before fluttering back open, but only making the want in you even needier, your desperate want for him flaring even more. 

With an almost vicious tug of your fingers in his hair to tilt his head back, he hissed at the pinches of pain as you leaned forward to murmur against his ear. “If you do not make me come before leaving this room, I will hex you into oblivion.”

With a hoarse laugh coming from the back of his throat, Yoongi returned to pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. “You could have just asked, Greengrass.”

He didn’t give you a warning until you felt one of his hands sneakily slip to the front and pull your knickers to the side as his thumb found your swollen clit embarrassingly quickly. Your breath hitched due to your sensitivity before easing out into a moan as he started circling the nub, your hips twitching and rolling slowly as if following the motion.

“So responsive,” Yoongi hummed in satisfaction, gaze locked onto your expression to watch your response to every move of his fingers. 

You felt him slide them between your cunt, finding your wet entrance as he slowly pushed a single, long finger inside, never stopping his torturous, slow circling. Your hands found the nape of his neck, gripping almost too tight. 

“Fuck, stop teasing me,” You begged, practically draped over his body, sweat coating your skin underneath the white blouse. “Please.”

Grappling around to find his face, you pressed your lips desperately against his, trading slow open-mouthed kisses as he continued his dance against your clit while pushing a second finger inside your squelching cunt. 

Your moans started breaking up, hips quickening and trying to chase that building feeling of completion, but his other hand which gripped your hip tightened, pulling you to a stop. 

“If I had known how wet you get for me I would have fucked you sooner,” It was Yoongi’s turn to exhale harshly, your pleasure seemingly affecting himself as his fingers sped up, pulling a long whine from you as your blunt nails dug into his skin. 

Yoongi didn’t seem to mind. 

He felt it coming, the way your whole body was starting to tense up, your continued whisper begging him not to stop, your thighs nearly caging him in as he listened gladly, face tugging into the crook of your neck as his own arousal was throbbing beneath his clothes. 

The moment his thumb pressed down against your swollen nub, you came with a shuddering moan, your walls clamping down on his fingers and pulsing as your thighs shook. His circling slowed down, helping you through your high until you stilled above him, breathing harshly and wiggling to make him stop. 

Listening to the silent demand, he made sure you were watching him as he pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, sucking your essence off as your half-hooded gaze followed the movement. 

“Delectable,” Yoongi grinned, watching the addicting way you ducked your head in embarrassment, a new emotion coming from you. 

As if realizing what had just occurred, you nearly jumped off him, but stumbled to the side from being seated so long, his clean hand coming up to balance you as your skirt fell back down to cover you. 

Glancing in the mirror, you were shocked at how thoroughly fucked you look. Hair slightly frizzled, clothes askew, and your skin flushed down to your neck. Yoongi couldn’t look more satisfied, leaning back on his hands and taking in your appearance with a quick scourgify charm and cleaning you both up. 

“Stop looking so…smug!” You couldn’t help but huff. 

“Can’t help it,” He grinned again, an expression he offered you much more freely now. “I asked for a kiss but you gave me something much more, love.”

“You started it.” Was your mature reply. 

“And I don’t regret it.”

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, suddenly reminded where the two of you were, and spun around to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes. 

“We need to go.”

For once he nodded in agreement. “You go first. Find some excuse that I’m in the library or something and I’ll be there soon enough.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Why are you not coming?”

As if talking to a child, you followed his pointed gaze towards his lap at the bulging evidence as your mouth parted in realization, a cough scratching against your throat. 

“Right, that’s…my fault. But you are not jacking off in my room!”

Yoongi simply laughed. “I’m not gonna jack off, Greengrass. I only need a few minutes to calm down. Go ahead, alright.”

With another suspicious glance, you relented. 

“Fine.” 

Walking briskly out of your bedroom after making sure everything looked alright, a part of didn’t deny the urge to run away from the bizarre situation that just happened between you two. 

So much that you nearly begged your parents to let you go back to Hogwarts for the evening, in the middle of their tea time before dinner. They let you, luckily. And with a tense goodbye to the Min’s, you rushed out of the dark manor as if fire was licking at your heels, vanishing with the portkey outside the iron gates.

+ 

Min Yoongi was avoiding you. 

An irritating discovery that made the anger in you boil over. 

A strange moment occurred in the common room one night as you stepped inside between Scorpius and Albus to see the man sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, only to stand up and leave the moment he caught your eye with a flat expression. 

Obviously, you had expected him to seek you out after your quick retreat from the manor, but that was simply due to the fact you didn’t feel like being in a room of your family after having been finger fucked to oblivion by the one person they wanted as a son-in-law for your sister. 

So you had waited, tensely at that, for days for him to find you. Days went by until you managed to see the first sight of in in the Great Hall with his usual friends. But he had ignored you, or simply not paid attention. 

The second time had been in the halls of your classes, with him coming from the opposite way. But he had been engrossed in a conversation with his Gryffindor friend to the point you were unsure if he had even noticed you. 

It wasn’t until the third time in the common room that you knew for sure the bastard was avoiding you. And you had no bloody clue why, because you weren’t the one to initiate the kiss and cross the line the two of you had drawn. 

It was him. So his mess to clear up, and not yours. 

By the second week of no communication besides exchanged glares from your part, and empty looks from him, you’ve had enough. 

You had a free period - lo and behold, so did he. He was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by all of his friends, listening silently as they spoke animately around him. 

Everything silenced, however, the moment you stopped behind him, hands on your hips as you stared daggers into him. Yoongi had the nerve to not turn around and face you, despite being aware of you there. 

“Can I help you, Greengrass?” He simply drawled uninterested, igniting the cribbling irritation you were already feeling. 

“We need to talk,” You grinded out, ignoring the obvious looks his friends were exchanging between themselves. 

“About what?”

“You know what!” Was your snap. Ready with another pissed-off retort, he finally heaved heavily before standing up and stepping over the bench. His slightly superior height over yourself added to your anger, as he tilted head in expectation. 

“After you.”

With a glare you lead the way out of the Hall, going until the end of the long hallway and underneath a hidden alcove many didn’t pay attention to. Turning around with arms crossed over your chest, Yoongi leaned back against the stone walls with a bored expression. 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

He didn’t react, only offering you a glance of attention. “Don’t tell me you expected anything?”

“What?”

“It was a bit of fun, Greengrass. Hardly need for a deep conversation after.”

The bloody nerve of him. 

“How dare you!” You spit out, the harshness of those words actually catching his attention. “How fucking dare you. Tricking me, using me for my body and only to avoid me after?”

Guilt flashed in his eyes, of how this situation felt for you as a woman. But it disappeared quickly after, as he steeled himself yet again, features falling flat. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but that isn’t why I’m avoiding you.”

“Then why?”

“I’m your sister’s fianceé, remember,” He delivered coldly. “If the family knows what we did it will ruin both of our reputations.”

“You know I don’t give a fuck of my reputation!” You shook your head in near dizziness, gesturing between you almost wildly. “I’m trying to fix this friendship.”

“It was a bad idea to begin with. We’re to be family after all. Can’t have us fucking secretly in broom cupboards now, do we?” His crass words somehow managed to make you flinch, the prospective shame of being viewed as the secret sidepiece to your sister’s husband. 

This whiplash of a change in his behavior was slowly drawing your energy. Two weeks ago he had told you there was no marriage if he could stop it, and now he had seemingly already settled into the future role of a pureblood husband. 

Despite only having known each other for nearly three months, you had figured him out fairly quick. He was cold in his interactions with others, and borderline bored. But you had seen him with his friends.

And you.

That gentle smile, teasing quick of his smirk or rare bright grin whenever he truly let himself go without fear of being judged. 

He was a man who cared deeply but hid it beneath an exterior of aloofness and severity due to the demands of his family and expectations of the world. Something the two of you shared, and been able to understand from each other. 

Yoongi was someone who had become dear to you in a short amount of time, even to the surprise of your own friends - who had watched the development in fascination. 

You thought he at least had the decency to feel the same about you. If not a potential lover, then at least a respected friend. 

Brushing his slightly parted black hair back with a hand, he rove another expected gaze over you with a sigh. “If we’re done here-”

“Why do you keep shutting me out?” You spat out in anger, stopping him in his tracks to turn around and walk away. 

His back was tense underneath the black school robe. From your view, you saw how he clenched his teeth to refrain from saying something he would regret. Not that he hadn’t already. Only lucky that you could take a biter fiercer than anyone else. But you didn’t care about filter at the moment. You would be damned if you let him walk away from you without a clear explanation of his change of personality. 

“I said it’s none of your business!” he snapped in return, the first time to raise his voice at you. 

You didn’t bother to hide the scoff coming out of you. “Well, you made it my bloody business the moment you spoke to me!”

Yoongi still didn’t bother to turn around and face you, so you could only see his side profile. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were tightened into fists by his side. Nails digging into his skin creating marks. His black hair was messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times during the last hour. 

“Bloody hell, Y/N, just leave me alone,” he whipped around to glare at you coldly, mouth pulled up in a sneer. An expression you had seen many times, but jokingly. Never had it been pointed at you, and you nearly flinched at the viciousness of it. 

You resisted the urge to whip out your wand and curse him into oblivion. With a determined mind, you walked up to him and grabbed his wrist tightly. 

As if trying to squeeze some sense back into him. 

He was void of any emotions. Telling you nothing of what he was feeling, his walls up higher than you had ever seen, reminding you of a fortress to never be shaken. 

“You need to stop pushing me away,” You told him in a hard voice. “Not everyone is out to betray or control you. Fuck, I care about you, okay!”

His eyes flickered down to meet your own, but they still remained blank, making the pit in your stomach grow. 

Yoongi pulled his wrist away from your hold. “Stop caring.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallways of the castle.

+

Christmas came and went.

Your holidays having been spent completely at the Malfoy Manor to your parent’s chagrin.

But you had remained firm in your choice after hearing the Min’s were coming over again with their son to spend more time together for your sister’s benefit. So you had made sure to stay the bloody hell away. 

Min Yoongi had kept to his words since that faithful argument in the hallways, completely ignoring you and acting like you never talked to each other before. Just like it had been the six first years. 

It annoyed you how much you still thought about that heartless bastard. You had done swimmingly well so far until that stupid day on the train. Six years without a single word towards him, yet he had managed to flip your world upside down as if he had been the missing piece in it all along. 

Scorpius had noticed it. Albus had noticed it. For fuck’s sake, even Liam Parkinson who could be as daft as a troll sometimes, noticed it after the argument. 

“So his excuse was that you couldn’t be friends because he’s engaged to your harpy of a sister?” Albus brought it up again one morning during breakfast, the first week back to Hogwarts after the holidays. 

“Yes.” You sighed wearily, at this point having no energy to care anymore. Even though you knew otherwise. 

“Even after he finger fucked you?” Liam deadpanned beside you, as a unanimous groan went through the rest of your friends. 

“That’s disgusting. I don’t need to hear that about my cousin,” Scorpius grimaced, pushing away his nearly demolished plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. 

“You think I have a magical vagina or something, Parkinson?” You flicked up a brow, but Liam being Liam only leaned in with a saucy wink. 

“I could believe it.”

“Merlin, stop it, please.” Albus looked seemingly green from his seat. “You’re basically my sister, so please stop talking.”

“A sister that you made out with last year,” Scorpius muttered loud enough for the group to hear as Albus blushed red to the tip of his ears.

“W-we were drunk!” He argued with a small glare. “I thought we already agreed to let it go.”

“Don’t worry, Al.” With an innocent batter of your eyes, you joined in on the heckling. “You can admit I was a damn good kisser.”

“Shut up.” Throwing a grape in your direction, you simply caught it with a hand before popping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. 

Slinging an arm over your shoulders, Liam sighed almost sadly. “Why does Al get to kiss you, but I don’t?”

Leaning back on a hand, you stared. “You want to kiss right now?” 

He didn’t expect the reply, startling with slightly wide eyes before they narrowed again, detecting the tug of your lips with a waggling finger. 

“You are one sneaky witch.”

“I know,” Sharing a chuckle, all four of you finished breakfast before heading out for a walk in the cold, but sparkling snow-covered grounds warmly wrapped in your scarves and mittens. 

It was a Sunday; everyone was seemingly dead tired after the first week of classes and sleeping beside your group. It was the last year for everyone, so you blamed it on wanting to spend as much time as possible before leaving the castle that had been your home for the last seven years. 

Just as you were about to wrap your green and silver scarf tightly around your neck as the main doors to the grounds came into view, Liam suddenly stood in your path with a suspicious grin. 

“What?” You eyed him slowly.

“From a scale of 1 to 10, how much would you describe your vindictive vendetta against Min? 

Looking to the side to catch the eyes of both Scorpius and Albus, who were obviously biting back smiles themselves, you frowned. 

“What are you babbling on about?”

“Just answer please.”

“I don’t know, 8.5?” The number came to you randomly but seemed realistic enough to describe your feelings.

Liam nodded seriously as if this was some serious discussion. “8.5, certainly very high. High enough for a drastic plan.”

You were confused. Utterly baffled about what he was talking about, simply staring without words to say. 

Then he smirked, but not the kind that you were used to. The one he used to jokingly flirt and try to drag you into stupid situations. This was the smirk you had seen him use against witches enough of times to see them melting at his feet.

However, your wariness only rose. 

“Just don’t hex me, alright?”

“What are you-”

Before you knew it, he grabbed both ends of your scarf and tugged you against him, lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in shock. 

He leaned back just enough to mutter cheekily. “Just play along.”

Resisting a roll of your eyes, you listened. Letting them flutter shut as his mitten-covered hands came up to cup your cheeks and draw you into the kiss even further. He never used his tongue, only moving his lips against yours which you returned, hands loosely holding onto his waist until he pulled back.

“Hm,” Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully with a nod. “No lie there. Damn good kisser.”

Despite the bizarreness of it, you laughed. 

“That was ridiculous,” Scorpius shook his head, but there was an amused smile playing at his lips. 

“Explain,” You finally demanded. 

It was Albus who came over, grabbing your chin and turning your gaze in the direction of the doors just in time to see the familiar form of Yoongi disappearing from your views. 

Your mouth parted in realization at what Liam had tried to do. 

“You scheming pieces of shit.” Your voice was proud, however, and the boys knew it as they high-fived before pulling you towards the grounds, all of you cackling like idiots.

“Let’s hope things only go up from here, huh,” Liam pulled you into his side while walking, and with a grin you stayed there the entire trip down to Hogsmeade. 

+

You ran into each other not even three days later.

Literally nearly crashing coming from different directions before rounding a corner and you jumped back at the last second. Yoongi had halted as well, startled eyes cooling down swiftly and taking you in before moving to brush past you. 

“How was Christmas?” 

He paused, to your relief. And even replied. “As usual. Nothing interesting despite the dinner.”

“Did your parents leave for Korea?” You remembered him mentioning it in brief passing and how he was supposed to stay at Hogwarts before shit went down at the manor. 

“They did,” A tense nod. “Right after and I returned to school.”

“Ah, right.” Fuck, this was awkward. And ridiculously tense. “I’ll just-”

“And you?”

You were shocked he even bothered to ask. “Good. It’s always a nice time at the Malfoy’s. My aunt Astoria loves Christmas and makes a big deal out of it.”

“The Malfoys, huh.” Yoongi looked like he had eaten something horrid. “I assume Parkinson was there as well?”

Liam? You frowned in confusion, why would he suddenly mention him? “Yeah, he came over for a bit.”

“I see.”

He was acting odd. More than usual. 

Then it went up to you. The kiss from two days ago, that Yoongi had obviously witnessed in his passing and you didn’t even realize. 

You couldn’t stop the chuckle as his brown eyes zeroed in on the sound with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, but your laugh kept spilling out. 

“You obviously find something amusing, Greengrass.”

“You’re the ones who’s amusing.” For the first time in a while, you smiled at him, only briefly, but enough to loosen the tense expression on him. 

“You’re not making sense.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Min Yoongi.”

He scoffed, cheeks slightly rosy from the winter cold in the halls and skin looking even paler than usual with the white backdrop from outside the large windows. His hair was still black, no new colour this time around, slightly longer in the nape of his neck but not much changed.

“What makes you think I’m jealous?”

“This right now.” You replied simply but decided not to goad him any further. “I guess the engagement is a go?

Yoongi was considering lying, you could see it. The way he didn’t reply right away was enough of a sign. “My parents…haven’t decided if your sister is a good match for me yet.” He admitted slowly. “Due to the dinner during Christmas.”

“Shocking.” You were anything but. 

Your sister might bear the Greengrass and Zabini names, as well as an acceptable desk job at the Ministry, however, she was shallow and childish. Always craving the best, and wanting to appear the best. Traits that people easily looked through within the first few minutes of meeting her, and you doubted the keen eyes of Yoongi’s mother hadn’t seen the same. 

There were negatives to being a pureblood in the presence of other purebloods. It was a competition of judgment and pride. There was never more than trying to see through carefully built walls, being the first one to win. 

And your family, or sister in this matter had clearly lost with impressing the imposing Min family. 

Yoongi was saying they were considering it. But you both knew that was just a polite way of saying they had already decided that Isla Zabini Greengrass was not worth of their name. 

This was also why you assumed he actually gave you time of the day again. There was no impending marriage to your family pinning him down. No way for him to use the excuses he had made to ignore you the past month and a half. 

“You must be happy.”

“It is a relief.” Honesty, wow. Yoongi must really feel bad.

He was tense, ridiculously so, and you almost wanted to torture him a little more. But maybe not today.

“Are you done having your head up your ass now?”

With that single sentence, his shoulders eased. Face falling into a grim line as his head dropped, guilt coating his whole shape and form. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Your lips twitched, repeating. “I know.”

Yoongi finally looked at you, his eyes were so obviously sad it was almost funny. “You don’t know. I was an asshole to you, just because I was afraid.”

“Out of all people in this castle, I’m the one who might just understand your situation the most.”

This time it was his turn to smile, although ruefully. “I know. I was stupid not to see it.”

“What now then?”

“Friends?”

You laughed, loud and clear, the voice ringing out in the empty corridor leading to the Slytherin common room. It took you a few minutes to calm down enough to not burst into new spurts of laughter. 

Yoongi remained silent through it all, wincing as your eyes met his with aq raise of your brows, seeing through his bullshit as easy as walking through a ghost. 

“Cut your bollocks and tell me the truth.”

He swallowed. 

Yoongi obviously didn’t want to be friends. Who the fuck stays friends after kissing as they had. After where his hands had touched your body. Seen a side of you no one else had. Fuck no, not a single part of him wanted to remain as just friends. 

He wanted you, quite frankly. Craved you at this point. 

But not just your body. 

He wanted everything that you could offer him. Your very soul if you were willing. He was ready to accept it all. 

But he couldn’t voice it out loud, fearing what he had done was enough to damage to the little bond that managed to sprout between you. 

“You need to say it,” You coaxed him firmly. “Or else I’ll walk away.”

Fuck, it was now or never. 

“Can you give me another chance?” Yoongi searched your expression carefully, but you were tricky witch even to him. 

“As friends?” You repeated slowly. 

“No, I don’t want your friendship,” He managed to sound more firm this time around, seeing the way your eyes widened only the tiniest bit. “I want you, Y/N. Just you. No strange friendship tip-toeing around each other. I want you with me.” Yoongi paused almost nervously, before adding in a low voice. “If you’ll have me.”

You bit back the grin wanting to spread across your face, skin flushing with the words he offered you so sincerely you almost teared up.

“What about your marriage?”

He waltzed up to you, inches apart as you stumbled back in surprise, the stone wall luckily meeting you for support. His large hands cupped your cheeks lovingly, eyes crinkling up in the corners as he smiled without abandon, sending your heart thumping happily. 

“My parents wanted a Greengrass as a wife.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip as your lips parted, his smile turning into a scheming smirk, muttering against your lips. “Who said they won’t get one?”

You snorted, letting down your guard, hand trailing up his chest and shoulders before wrapping around his neck. “You are one hell of a Slytherin, Min Yoongi.”

And then you kissed him. 

The world and its problems could wait. 

For now, all you wanted was to remain in the arms of the stubborn, prideful man in front of you, kiss him until you both ran out of breath. 

So this has been in the drafts since 2018. Heh. 

[magicshopaholic]

A Lack of Colour

Summary: Seokjin realises he needs to have a talk with his girlfriend. Yoongi makes a promise. "i should have given you a reason to stay" - death cab for cutie, a lack of color

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Angst, sort of

Word count: 9K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: Please don’t hate me. Takes place a week after Helping Hands. If you want to yell at me with other readers after you're done , you can do so on the Discord channel.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "a lack of color“ by death cab for cutie

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

The ER is quiet today - too quiet.

Nari tries to ignore the giggles and whispers that are permeating the sanitizer whiteness of the room, and concentrates on the breath sounds of the patient on the bed before her. She’s come in complaining vaguely of “chest pains” but it’s mildly frustrating; Nari can’t hear anything except absolutely normal breath sounds and heartbeats.

“Show me where you’re feeling the pain again?” she asks kindly, watching closely as the girl - a kid probably in her early twenties - frowns and gestures largely at the front of her torso.

“Just… everywhere,” she answers unhelpfully. 

Nari frowns slightly, not wanting to alarm her patient while a variety of scenarios start flipping through her mind as to why her chest sounds perfectly normal, not dismissing the possibility that her stethoscope is damaged.

She glances up at the girl’s friends, two similar looking girls who seem least bothered about their friend’s situation. Instead, they’re on their phones, exchanging grins and excitedly whispering, nudging the girl on the bed to look at something on their screens.

“Just - give me a moment. I’ll be right back.” Nari walks away calmly and doesn’t stop until she reaches the front desk of the ER. She leans over to the first year resident who’s manning the desk for the day.

“Hey, have you seen Dr Kang or… Cheon or… anyone else?” she asks. “I need a consult.”

“Oh, um, I think they’re all in surgery…” The resident checks a large board behind her. “Yeah, won’t be out for a while. Anything I can help with?” she asks quickly.

Nari nods, empathising with the annoyance of having to answer phones in the ER in place of practising medicine. “I have a case of chest pain - female, early twenties, otherwise seemingly healthy. Her breath sounds, heart beat and EKG are completely normal and she can’t seem to pinpoint any singular area of pain. Can you do some research to understand what this could be?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah, of course -“ She retrieves a notebook from her pocket and flips through it vigorously. “I’m sure I can find something -“ 

They’re interrupted momentarily by another sound of furious whispering - a group of medical student interns pass by them, giggling in hushed tones.

“Not to sound old or anything, but I swear we were more professional at that age,” mutters Nari, shaking her head.

“I kind of get it, though,” says the resident, shrugging apologetically. “It’s not every day there’s an idol somewhere in the hospital.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Like a k-pop idol? Here?”

“Uh-huh. It’s all super secret and high profile, though. He’s in the VIP section and has bodyguards everywhere.”

“Wow. That explains a lot. Anyway, let me know if you find something on the chest -“ Nari pauses abruptly, something clicking. She turns around slowly to look at the girl with the mysterious chest pains, sitting up straight on her bed and whispering with her friends.

“You know what,” she says instead, turning to the resident. “It’s a slow day. Why don’t you take over my patient instead?” she offers.

The resident’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Make sure to really ask her a lot of questions,” adds Nari. As the resident hurries away, pulling on her lab coat, Nari stops her. “By the way… who’s the idol?”

“Oh. Nobody knows.” The resident shrugs. “Rumour is that it’s someone from BTS.”

—

Nari waits outside the entrance of the VIP section, watching as one of the bulky bodyguards slips inside the private hospital room, presumably to ask the said BTS member if he knows and would be okay to see a Dr Choi Nari.

It’s a fifteen percent chance it’s Seokjin. If it’s any of the others, it will be a pleasant run-in. If it’s him… it occurs to Nari for the first time that he might not actually want to see her.

Just as she begins processing this possibility, the bodyguard pokes the upper half of his body outside the room and waves at her to enter.

Her heart leaping slightly, she saunters down the corridor silently, ignoring the two surely-vetted nurses giving her bewildered looks as she pushes open the door.

“Hey.” Seokjin, in a hospital gown, looks tired yet relieved. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Yeah?” Nari takes a few steps towards the bed, hands in the pocket of her lab coat, noting that he seems okay, except for an IV in his forearm and one of his feet elevated on a cushion. “You know where I work. Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

He purses his lips hesitantly. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” he says lightly. “I thought… this might one of those times where lack of privacy would actually come in handy.”

She nods, waiting for the heaviness in her chest to reappear, but it doesn’t. “It did. What happened to you?”

“Oh.” He seems to remember why he’s here. “Um… twisted my ankle. And our regular doctor is out sick today. Irony,” he adds in a soft sing-song voice, grinning when he realises they've done it in unison.

“M-hm. Who’s your doctor here?” 

“Uh… Park something. Park Naeun.”

Nari raises her eyebrows. “Head of the department?” She taps his foot with her pen, ignoring his dramatic gasp of pain. “Must be some twisted ankle.”

“That hurt!”

“No, it didn’t,” she says, giving him a look when his face immediately drops to normal. She points at his chart hooked at the bottom of his bed. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead. You don’t have to ask.”

“Yeah, I do. Patient information is confidential and I’m not your doctor.”

Seokjin nods slowly but his expression is clear. Nari waits for him to say what she thinks he’s about to but then decides she doesn’t want him to.

She flips through the chart. “Your vitals seem fine. BP is a bit low…” Automatically, she pulls her stethoscope from the pockets of her lab coat and puts it on. “Sit up?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow but obeys. Keeping the chart down, Nari places a hand on his shoulder and gently presses the chest piece to his chest. “Take a deep breath,” she murmurs, listening closely, frowning when his heart speeds up slightly. She moves to his back. “Lean forward a bit?”

He does so, and the hospital gown falls from his chest to his waist. His skin feels warm where Nari places the chest piece on his back. “Slightly tachycardic. You’re dehydrated, Kimbap.”

“Bingo,” he says, sounding tired again. Up close, he looks paler. But his eyes look more full of life than Nari has seen them in a while. She frowns curiously for a moment before realising it’s the first time she’s called him Kimbap in months.

In order to break the silence, heavy with meaning, she places the back of her hand on his forehead. “You’re feverish. And you look thinner,” she adds, stepping away. “Have you been eating properly?”

He chuckles pointedly. “Hello, pot. I’m kettle.”

A smile flits across her face. “Shut up. I’m serious.”

“Airplane food is shit.”

“Even business class?”

“Absolutely. And touring is tiring.”

Nari nods, placing the chart back. There’s nothing much for her to do; rest and fluids are all he needs and both are taken care of for now. She hesitates, wondering if she should leave. A moment later, she takes a seat on the chair next to his bed.

Seokjin doesn’t try to hide his smile. “Don’t have surgery to get to?”

“It’s a slow day.” She nudges his bed lightly with her foot. “How have you been?”

Seokjin’s smile fades slightly, and his eyes fall. Nari bites her lip; it’s only been a week, but it feels like forever ago. Standing inches away from each other, his cheekbones under her fingers, his palpable desperation followed by clear, transparent realisation.

Despite that, it’s the first time in months that she’s been around him without wanting to cry. Talking with him is easier. Being around him feels like it used to. The truth is out there, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest. 

“Okay. Been thinking a lot,” he says, glancing up at her.

She nods. She wants to ask more, but looking at his pale face and clammy forehead, she decides not to. Not while there’s a chance of delirious answers.

“Where’s Seulgi?”

His face falls. “Oh, crap. I should call her.” He reaches over to his bedside table and picks up his phone, only to see a black screen. “Damn it.”

“You should let your people know to let her in,” says Nari, taking his phone from him and plugging it in to charge behind the bedside table. “They’re fairly intimidating.”

He half-chuckles. “And yet here you are.”

“The whole hospital’s talking about a famous idol here somewhere. Had to check out the rumour for myself.”

“Good to know.” He turns to check that his phone is charging and sits back. “She’s gone to see her parents in Busan,” he says after a moment. “So I don’t think I’ll see her. I fly out the day after tomorrow,” he adds, answering her silent question.

“Oh. You may not be in a state to,” she tells him, pointing to the IV in his forearm.

“Don’t have a choice.” He sighs and closes his eyes, placing his other arm over them. His chest looks white, not a single bit of loose flesh anywhere. But she knows better than to argue with his schedule.

“Keep a water bottle on you at all times. One with a carabiner that you can hook onto your bag.” She clicks her tongue. “There is no way that this is the first time I’m telling you this.”

“Okay, Dr Choi,” he mutters, not moving.

She slaps his shoulder lightly. “I’m not kidding. You’re making yourself sick. You look like a ghost, Kimbap.”

“On the plus side, my hair game has never been stronger.”

She reaches over and ruffles his hair until he slaps her hand away, laughing.

“Don’t be jealous, Nari,” he says loftily, delicately straightening his bangs along his forehead.

“I’m not,” she says honestly.

He gives her a small smile but says nothing. “Thanks for coming,” he says after a moment. “Truth be told… I don’t feel that great.”

Nari wonders if she’s imagining the double meaning, or if she simply wants to. The look on his face at the restaurant opening when she’d finally told him, in as many words as she could, how she felt; it had simultaneously broken her heart and renewed hope because now he knew.

Part of her had expected their lingering desperation at maintaining a friendship to die a feeble death right then, but Seokjin seems to be genuinely glad she’s here right now. She searches, again, for the heaviness - but it has disappeared.

“‘Course I did,” she says softly, squeezing his hand. He squeezes it back, warm and dry, and Nari feels like crying. Not out of sadness, or heartbreak - but out of relief. There was a lack of colour in her life but it’s back now, clear, beautiful and messy.

“Nari, look… about -”

The door flies open and Dr Park Naeun stands at the doorway, youthful as ever in her late forties, with a sharp frown on her forehead. 

“Dr Choi,” she states sternly. “I don’t remember assigning you on this case. Are you cleared to be here?” Without waiting for Nari’s response, she turns to Seokjin and her face softens. “I’m sorry, I was told you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“I’m not,” he says instantly, letting go of Nari’s hand. “Nari - er, Dr Choi,” he amends, glancing at her sheepishly, “is my oldest friend. No disturbance at all.”

Dr Park nods, still seeming a little unconvinced. “Alright. You should rest, though. Dr Choi - the ER isn’t going to run itself.”

Sensing her cue, Nari stands up, her hand brushing Seokjin’s. “Of course. Take care,” she says softly to him before walking past her boss and out of the hospital room.

—

Nari doesn’t stop by again except later that night to inform him she’s going home and checking his vitals once more. Seokjin stays motionless while she presses the chest piece of her stethoscope once more to his torso, soft and familiar fingers brushing against his skin. The medication makes his heart race but he tries not to show it, and he doesn’t exhale until she leaves the room.

He is discharged the next day; a shiny black SUV takes him back to the dorm, where all the members have elected to stay until the tour ends. It’s both convenient yet mildly chaotic; the only time any of them go back to their own apartments is when Dilara is in town, or if Jimin is to meet Sooah, or if Jungkook is entertaining one of his casual lady friends.

As it so happens, the only person in the house when Seokjin returns is Min Yoongi, eating a bowl of cereal at four pm in front of the television.

“Hey, you’re back,” he says unnecessarily. “When did - wait, why didn’t you tell any of us when you were coming back? We could’ve picked you up.”

Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “Not necessary. Everyone has enough going on.” He takes a seat next to Yoongi on the sofa and sighs, gratefully accepting the bowl of cereal and taking a large bite of choco flakes and cold milk. “Oh, God, that’s good,” he murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I can get you a bowl,” offers Yoongi, heading to the kitchen when Seokjin nods. He brings back a plate with a bowl of cereal on it, along with toast and blueberry jam. “I know it’s carbs but you were sick - you need your energy.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about carbs right now,” agrees Seokjin, eagerly taking the plate and going straight for the toast, not emerging until he finishes an entire slice. “Jesus. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days.”

Yoongi nods, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better. Yesterday was a bit shit but I woke up feeling pretty okay. Nari’s convinced it was the rest and fluids but I think it was the super comfortable hospital bed and jelly cups that did the trick.”

“You met Nari?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “How, uh, how is she?” he asks, sounding a bit guilty.

Seokjin is sure he’s recalling the disastrous not-date that occurred at the restaurant opening a week ago, but says nothing. Nari’s transparent embarrassment from that night doesn’t need to become public knowledge. 

“She’s okay. It was kind of weird seeing her in work mode, but - but it was good,” he replies, realising as he says it, that for the first time in a long time, it actually was good. Maybe it was the fact that he was sick or that he hadn’t actually seen her smile at him in forever, but it was the closest he’d felt to her in months.

Kimbap. And maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t alone in it. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“What?” Seokjin stares at his remaining cereal. “I’m -” About to deny it, he stops. “Okay, I need to get something off my chest.”

“Okay.” Yoongi mutes the television.

“I -” He takes a deep breath, not really sure where to begin. “Um… after the restaurant opening, when Nari was leaving…” He swallows, feeling his stomach squirm the same it has the entirety of the last week, every single time he thought about her and that night. “I think… Nari might have feelings for me.”

There’s a few moments of silence. When Yoongi doesn’t answer, Seokjin turns to him to see him looking back expectantly. “And?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Well…” Seokjin frowns.

Yoongi squints. “Please don’t tell me that’s news to you.”

Seokjin opens his mouth then closes it, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s not… news,” he admits. “But it’s confirmation. I didn’t think it was likely, not after the pregnancy scare and with that Jason guy… but I did wonder. Maybe,” he finishes, shrugging tiredly. “Kind of felt wrong to speculate once I got together with Seulgi,” he mutters.

“Does Seulgi know? Wait - what actually happened?” Yoongi asks instead.

“Nothing happened,” he clarifies immediately. “Not like that.” But it could have. Another second and I might have. “But… I mean, I would be deliberately obtuse if I didn’t see it now, right?”

Although it doesn’t answer his question, Yoongi tactfully doesn’t repeat it. “But you said everything was good with her yesterday?”

“That’s just it.” Seokjin pounces on what’s been going through his head for the last twenty-four hours. “It’s been a nightmare for almost a year and then suddenly it’s… we’re back to normal. Kind of.” He shakes his head. “I kept thinking it might have made it worse, having it out in the open. But it isn’t. It’s like a switch flipped.” I got my best friend back, he thinks, and a part of his heart soars.

“What does Seulgi think?” When Seokjin doesn’t answer, Yoongi sits back on the couch, still observing his friend. “Does she know about this new development at all?”

“It’s complicated,” he mutters. “I don’t even know what this development is.” He catches Yoongi’s knowing look. “I’m serious. It was, like, fifteen minutes in total and it was… normal. If anything, the last few months were a development. This is the default.”

Seokjin is mildly aware he’s rambling now, especially when Yoongi conspicuously utters nothing. It’s just as well; he’s run out of ways to explain the situation. There are no appropriate words to describe the wave of emotions he’d experienced since last week, beginning with shock and solace that Nari was finally communicating with him, stress and fear that this may just have pushed her away for good, and a numbing relief when she’d shown up yesterday. 

He wishes he’d hugged her. He wishes she’d stayed longer, or that stupid Dr Park hadn’t told her to leave. He wishes he knew what she was going through last week, if she was truly as relaxed as she seemed, if her confession really had been as cathartic for her to make as it had been for him to hear.

“Do you think you can travel tomorrow?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence.

“What? Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Seokjin shifts on the sofa, running a hand over his face. “It should be fine.” 

Tomorrow. It seems too soon now, now that there’s so much to leave behind in Seoul. She was happy. It was, at the crux of it, the detail that sticks in his mind. He imagines the weight off her chest, imagines her expecting something from him, imagines telling her what she wants to hear. It could get complicated, for certain, but the thought of it doesn’t tire him the way it used to.

“Hey, you know what?” Seokjin asks, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “That night, when Nari was leaving the party, she said you were… kissing someone?”

Yoongi goes very still. “She told you about that?” he asks, and there’s a bite to his tone.

“Well… she was upset,” he says hastily. “I don’t think she knew it was a secret… is it a secret?” he asks hesitantly, not wanting to overstep.

Yoongi is silent for a moment longer. “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” he mutters, and that’s enough to indicate that the topic is closed.

Later that evening, as he drives to the Big Hit building, Yoongi finds himself regretting being so abrupt with Seokjin.

But there is nothing to tell. He didn’t lie. There has been virtually no contact with Miso since that night, and he hasn’t been able to come up with a single appropriate way to begin conversation. Hey, I just want to skirt around the awkwardness of kissing you in a coat closet right after you admitted your psychotic mother has a habit of stealing men from you, so how’s it going? I miss you.

It was variations of this until Yoongi gave up, choosing to give her space and time to process everything and let the ball be in her court for once.

Even when he reaches the floor, he makes sure to only wave at her while she’s standing with Donghyuk and a couple of other people before ducking into his own studio. He stays there for a while, distractedly flipping through his files and trying to remember why exactly he’d come in today at all.

After a few minutes, he decides he needs a cigarette, taking the elevator to the terrace and stepping out into the pleasant evening air.

He lights his first cigarette and takes a deep drag, closing his eyes when the door creaks open behind him.

“They don’t let you smoke on tour?”

Yoongi doesn’t move. “They’d probably have a heart attack if I did. Although my make-up artist joins me for a secret one once in a while.”

“Clandestine smoke breaks feel different,” she agrees, slipping out her own pack and placing a cigarette between her lips. Yoongi reaches forward and lights it for her, and her eyes look brown in the brightness of the flame.

Miso breathes it in and lets the smoke out without flinching. “Didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”

“You didn’t?”

“Yeah… weren’t you in Europe or something this week?” She frowns. “The flying must be playing havoc with your system.”

She means the tour. Yoongi nods a little belatedly. “I guess. I’m used to it. I sleep when I can. How are you?” he ask after a moment.

“Same as always.” Miso takes another drag before giving him a side glance. “Also… I just want to move on from the whole… weirdness of our - of us, you know, kissing in the aftermath of my whole word vomit about my demented mother going after men far too young for her.” She exhales, having said everything in one breath.

Yoongi stares at her, blinking wordlessly before he realises she’s expecting a response from him. “Oh, hey… don’t worry. No weirdness whatsoever.”

She gives him a small smile and leans back against the railing he’s looking over, the city of Seoul lit up under them. Their shoulders brush and Yoongi tries to grasp at anything to keep the conversation going. “Um, so… how are things with - with you and your mom?”

Miso frowns slightly, as though she hadn’t expected this question. “As good as they’ll ever be? We’ve successfully ignored each other all week,” she explains, half-chuckling. 

Yoongi doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe; it’s not a common cue to take, so he simply nods. She seems a bit jittery; the last time he’d seen her like this, it was almost a year ago at her house, the first glimpse he’d gotten a peek into her life. He’s about to reach for her hand which is holding the cigarette and tapping absently at the railing, but at that moment she raises her hand to take another drag.

“Anyway, I, uh…” She clears her throat and taps the cigarette, ash falling on the ground, “I’m just glad we didn’t… I mean, you don’t have to feel like… God, it was a weird night,” she sighs awkwardly. “But it doesn’t have to… go anywhere. We can just go back to normal.”

Unlike her, Yoongi doesn’t look away. “Truth be told, I’m not really sure what normal is with us.”

Looking at the ground, Miso half-chuckles again, without humour. She’s wearing full sleeves again, despite a mostly warm day. Beige sleeves and a dark t-shirt on top; her skin looked white against it, like porcelain.

“I know,” she admits, flicking ash again. “But I’m just saying, it doesn’t have to be… anything different. Whatever normal is.” She shrugs and when Yoongi doesn’t respond, she looks up. “I’m just saying… it was a long night. I was on edge, surrounded by my mother and her friends and you… and everyone was hungry because they took forever to serve dinner…” She exhales, and grey smoke comes out of her nostrils. “Nothing… really happened.”

Yoongi stares at her, his face making no movement whatsoever for he finally feels as though she’s reaching the point. “What?”

Miso gazes at him, pursing her lips. It feels as though she’s reading him, trying to gauge what his question is referring to. She takes a last, deep drag and finishes her cigarette. “This is a good thing, Yoongi,” she says at last, stamping out the butt. “You got a look into the shitshow and… you’re getting out ahead.” She gives him a small, forced smile. “You’re off the hook,” she says in English, the unfamiliar accent jarring. 

She moves to leave while Yoongi stays frozen to the spot, his stomach sinking slowly. Then, as though jerked out of a trance, he extinguishes his cigarette against a metal pipe on the side and drops the butt, turning around and catching up to her in a few steps. 

“I’m off the hook?” he repeats, voice low and sticking to Korean.

She doesn’t look too surprised that he’s stopped her, but her forced nonchalance wobbles slightly. “Well, the proverbial hook.”

“Yeah? What hook is that?”

“The hook that pegged you to kiss me in a coat closet after I… dumped my mommy-trauma on you.” She shakes her head. “There was a lot going on and I don’t… I’m not expecting anything from you. Not for that.”

Yoongi bites his lip. “So… I’m off the hook for the spur-of-the-moment kiss we shared after I assured you that you can trust me.”

Miso’s eyes flicker momentarily but she reverts to her blasé expression instantly. “The words sound like you get me, but your tone is throwing me off,” she says wryly.

He takes a step closer to her. “You are,” he mutters tightly, his hand clenching into a fist, “the single most uniquely frustrating person I have ever met.”

“I don’t understand why you’re getting annoyed with me,” she replies, but Yoongi doesn’t believe her, scoffing and turning away. “You want this, believe me.” When he doesn’t answer, she folds her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you a dozen times not to get involved. I don’t know why you’re still trying to.”

“You know, I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself,” he snaps, walking past her and out of the terrace. He catches a glimpse of her just as the elevator doors close and he bristles; there’s no doubt, guilt or anger on her face. It’s an expression he’s seen numerous times before, annoying him more each time: the one of being proven right.

—

Donghyuk [21:15] Going out with some of the prods in a bit. Drinks on BH. You in?

Yoongi [21:16] Don’t think so. Too much to get done.

Donghyuk [21:16] Sure? Kim Namjoon’s coming too. Probably.

Yoongi [21:17] You asked him?

Donghyuk [21:17] Not yet.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, although Namjoon might just agree to go. Anything to get his mind off his girl.

Yoongi [21:18] Raincheck. In the zone right now.

Donghyuk replies with an irrelevant emoji but doesn’t push. Yoongi locks his phone and stares at the wide screens in front of him. A part of him had planned to return to the dorm tonight to give Seokjin some company; something about how deep in thought the older member had been earlier today was throwing Yoongi off. Seokjin didn’t divulge much, but Yoongi had a feeling he might want to just this once.

There’s also the added bonus of a hot meal most likely awaiting him at the dorm, for when Seokjin was stressed, he tended to cook.

Yoongi [21:25] Hyung. Need me to pick up anything for dinner?

Seokjin [21:27] Not for me. I’m probably going out.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at this unexpected response, his stomach rumbling sadly. But he ignores it, reaching for his half empty pack of cigarettes and debating another smoke break, when his studio door opens without permission and he turns, his heart skipping an automatic beat.

Miso pokes her head in, expressionless. “Donghyuk’s leaving. He asked me to check if you want to schedule the demo with that rookie girl group tomorrow at noon.”

Yoongi turns back around. “Sure. Anything else?”

She hesitates. “That Chinese place you recommended sucks, by the way. Their portion sizes are deceptively huge and now I’m stuck with enough Kung Pao chicken to feed a small army,” she states in mild exasperation before leaving.

The door swings shut behind her. Yoongi scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. Uniquely frustrating. Everything had to be an argument, and every argument had to be won by her, even if it was about an excess of Kung Pao chicken.

He checks his pack to see about half a dozen cigarettes left, when something clicks. He pauses and, on cue, his stomach rumbles again.

Grabbing his phone and the smokes, Yoongi stands up and heads out of his studio, making a beeline down the corridor for Donghyuk's. He can smell the food even before he pushes the door open.

Miso looks up when he enters, not looking entirely surprised, but - he notes with caution - her shoulders relax as though in relief. Four boxes of food are on the console table in front of her while she unpacks the chopsticks. As he takes a seat next to her mutely, she unpacks the last items in the bag: two cans of lemonade. She slides one over to him and he catches it.

“Thanks.”

She nods, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “I’ve heard the food’s not bad.”

“So have I. I didn’t know about the lemonade on their menu, though.” He takes a sip and swallows it slowly, wincing slightly at the tartness. “Not bad.”

Miso, her can unopened in front of her, observes him thoughtfully before bending over the other side of her chair and retrieving two cans of Budweiser Premium. She offers one to him, eyebrows raised.

“Are we allowed alcohol in here?” he asks mildly, taking the can anyway. 

“No idea.”

“Not afraid of getting caught?”

She hitches one leg on the edge of her chair and pops her can open, taking a long sip. “What are they going to do? Fire me?” 

Nope. Not daddy’s nepo princess.

A year ago, Yoongi would’ve said it out loud. The arrogance of her statement would have struck him in his very core, except now he can only detect apathy in it. What’s the worst they can do? Fire me?

He opens his own can and takes a sip, the cold beer feeling incredible in his chest. “God, I feel healed.”

The corner of her mouth lifts and she reaches over, and they clink their cans together. “Cheers.”

As they eat, Yoongi finds himself more confused than ever. Not only did Miso, in her own twisted way, offer an olive branch and buy him dinner, but for the first time since he’s known her, she is initiating conversation.

“Are you allowed to drink on tour?” she asks him, curiously scooping some noodles into her paper bowl.

“Only as long as we’re not seen. And as long as it doesn’t make us put on weight or bloat or break out…” He shrugs. “So… no. Not really.”

“Is the company afraid your fans will get scandalized if they see you, an adult man, consuming alcohol?”

He cracks a smile. “Something like that.”

“Damn. How do you smoke?”

“I don’t, as much. I wait to come home and do it in peace.”

She grins and his heart catches. “Yeah? Dreaming about the Big Hit terrace while sailing around the world?”

“You have no idea. Sometimes I wake up smelling instant coffee and cornflakes.”

“A man so loyal to his work,” she says dryly, chuckling when he waves a hand in mock-embarrassment. “Big Hit is so lucky to have you.”

“They make me do a lot more dancing than I ever signed up for, so… you know what? They kind of are,” he agrees, smiling when she laughs. “Damn, this is good beer.”

Without being asked, she hands him another one, and their fingers brush on the cold can. Their eyes meet for a fraction of a second before Miso lets go and leans back, busying herself with something else. Yoongi glances at her as he absently bites down on a mushroom, wanting to bring up their earlier encounter today, last week and all the preceding weeks - but it’s not a good idea. Not during this precarious time of… he isn’t even sure what to call it.

“How come you didn’t go out with Donghyuk and the guys?”

“Work,” he answers simply. “How come you didn’t?”

“Work, I guess. And I had all this food to finish,” she reminds him, gesturing to the half a dozen boxes on the table. “You’re only back for a couple days, though. How come you don’t want to, you know…” She does an awkward wave with her shoulders. “... party?”

Yoongi stifles a chuckle. “Someone had to help you finish all this food. Apparently it’s my fault there’s so much of it.”

“It is. But the food is actually quite… not bad,” she adds generously. “How’d you know about this place?”

“Oh, I, uh… I used to deliver for them,” he confesses, nodding when she raises her eyebrows in surprise. “It’s been a few years, but… there was this one apartment over in Hongdae that ordered in from there almost every single day. A couple of roommates, fresh out of college, I think,” he recalls. “I asked them once about it and they said they worked long hours and ordering in from here was what kept them going.”

“Wow.” Miso is quiet for a moment. “So you started eating from here, too?”

“Once I could afford it, yeah.” He catches her eye but she lowers her eyes, almost as if ashamed. “The shrimp fried rice is the best thing on the menu, though.”

She nods, glancing up at him. “Noted. For next time.”

Yoongi’s heart soars unexpectedly before his mind forces their disagreement on the terrace to the forefront of his mind.

“I didn’t know you delivered food,” she says after a moment. 

“Mhm. It’s also when I learned to pick a lock, because these kids in one of the Gangnam neighbourhoods would lock people’s bicycles for fun,” he tells her, rolling his eyes. 

“What? Why?”

“Who knows.” He tosses his empty bowl on the table and stretches back in his chair. “Dumb, rich kids with nothing better to do,” he mutters, looking up at the ceiling. When he glances back down at her, it’s to see her quietly cleaning up, her hair covering the side of her face.

Yoongi starts to say something but thinks the better of it, instead helping her clear the table.

“Tell me something about you,” he says a little while later, as they share a single serving of chocolate mousse. “Not your parents or your… driver or whoever. You.”

Miso raises her eyebrows, looking a little startled at the question; it’s clear that it’s not something she gets asked too often.

“I don’t know. I’m really not that interesting.”

He gives her a look. “I told you about being a delivery boy. Interesting isn’t the criteria here.”

“Fine.” She purses her lips and frowns, apparently thinking. “Okay, I have one. Ready?”

“On the edge of my seat.”

A smile flits across her face. “Okay… I’m red-green colourblind.” She shrugs hugely, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Huh. Really?” Yoongi wasn’t expecting that. “So, can you…”

“I can,” she confirms. “I wear contact lenses so I can pretty much see everything normally. But, yeah. That’s something about me.”

“Have you - sorry, this might be a stupid question -“ He raises a hand and she waves her own, permitting him to ask. “Have you always had it?”

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s genetic,” she adds. “My mother used to take me to the optometrist in secret, as if she was afraid that my father would explode at a reminder of a weakness,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “Actually, that seems pretty on brand for him.”

Yoongi frowns. “But if it’s genetic…”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have it,” she confirms. “Neither does my mother, which means she’s a carrier.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not something we talk about. Ever.”

She says it in a matter-of-fact way, as though it’s the most understandable thing in the world for her own issues to take a backseat to her egocentric father’s insecurities. 

Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “So it’s your little secret?”

“Kind of. Strange to think about,” she agrees. She is quiet for a moment. “She really did seem to care that I had the best possible doctors and specialists and whatnot.” She shudders. “It’s like a fever dream.”

He doesn’t know how to react to this so he follows her cue and returns her wry smile. “I saw a picture of you as a kid at your house. You were a cute kid.”

Miso narrows her eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Where are you going with this?”

“Nothing. Just picturing you holding your mother’s hand, going to the optometrist.” He grins when she rolls her eyes. “You did say she took you in secret.”

“Well, she and Seungkwan,” she amends. “Not that we ever discussed it with him but I’m pretty sure he guessed.”

This is news. Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? And he never told your father?”

A faint smile appears on Miso’s face. “It’s a dangerous thing to be that loyal to my father. Some things are better left ignored.”

He senses something else in her words, but doesn’t ask. He remembers her driver vaguely; somehow, he appears everywhere she is, whenever she needs him. 

“Well, I can keep your secret,” he promises her, leaving the last bite of the mousse and handing it to her.

Her smile widens as she takes it from him. “I know,” she says. “I trust you.”

Yoongi holds her gaze for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Miso’s smile fades. “Yoongi…” She trails off when he drops his head, suddenly tired. She begins again. “You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s ever apologised to me,” she tells him. 

She waits until he meets her eyes again, and he’s slightly startled at how sorry she looks. He struggles for a moment to recall what she’s talking about, the memories of the aftermath of the launch party crawling to the forefront of his mind.

“That isn’t -“

“I’m just saying… It seems okay now. Now,” she repeats. “But you really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not talking about my parents,” she says quickly when he opens his mouth. “I’m saying…” She sighs. “Yoongi, I don’t think I can give you what you want. I don’t know how.”

Yoongi says nothing; his throat feels stuck and he worries that if he speaks, his voice might break. It doesn’t feel like a rejection, but he also can’t find a way to respond. Once again, she’s won the argument. 

They leave soon after that, once they clean up in silence and Yoongi takes out the trash while Miso closes down Donghyuk’s studio. He walks her to the elevator, both of them walking beside each other with just enough distance between them to not touch.

I don’t know how. It bothers him more than he’d like to admit, and he can’t tell if it’s because of her fucked up parents or her general tendency to keep a distance that she believes she’s incapable of genuine human connection. 

When they reach the elevator and she reaches up to press the button, his eyes fall on her wrist and he wants, once again, to grab it and push her sleeve up her forearm. The bruise he’d seen all those months ago feels like a siren he’d ignored; it makes him sick to think about another potential one on her wrist right now.

The doors open, Miso glances at him hesitantly. “I don’t know about you… but I actually had a good time tonight.” She nods once. “Thanks, Yoongi.”

He slips his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “Thanks for what?”

“You know…” She steps in between the doors to stop them from closing and turns to face him. “Helping me out… with the Kung Pao chicken and everything,” she finishes, her mouth lifting up at the corners. By the way she bites her lip, he knows his own face is betraying at least a hint of humour. Or maybe it’s exasperation, or annoyance, or infatuation, or everything at once.

“Your driver… Seungkwan?” He waits for her to nod. “He’s here?”

“Downstairs,” she confirms.

Take care. Call me if you need anything. Call me if you don’t need anything, too.

“See you around, Miso.” He waves mechanically and it immediately feels ridiculous.

She frowns curiously but mimics his awkward wave. “Bye.” She takes a step back into the elevator and presses the button, and he takes a similar step further back. She gives him a small smile as the doors start to close.

Yoongi starts to walk back towards his studio, noting the elevator only in his peripheral vision. As he leaves, the image of her on the terrace comes back to him; through another set of closing elevator doors, her look of mild satisfaction, almost expectant.

It only takes a fraction of a second; Yoongi turns on the spot and hurries back to the elevator, slipping through just before the doors close fully.

“Whoa.” Miso jerks back slightly, but doesn’t look annoyed “What are you doing?” she asks as he steps towards her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you again,” he assures her dryly, ignoring the look she gives him and reaching over to wrap her in a hug. He waits a moment, and then two, and then relaxes when he feels her arms go stiffly around his waist.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She smells of lilies and cigarette smoke. “But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere,” he promises her, closing his eyes and meaning every word of it.

It takes another moment but she tightens her arms around him. Her fingertips brush his shoulders and - he hopes he’s not imagining this - he feels her smile against his collarbone. 

They step away from each other a few seconds later when the doors start to open. There’s a tinge of pink on her cheeks he’s never seen before. She hitches her bag on her shoulders as she exits.

“Don’t be such a sap, Min Suga.” But the blush says differently, as does the small smile she visibly struggles and fails to hide. 

Yoongi grins at her, wide and gummy, feeling lighter and taller all at once. He’s made a decision, and now she’s in on it, too.

—

It’s almost close to dinner time, but for once Seokjin isn’t hungry.

His phone stares at him from where he’d tossed it on the futon a few minutes ago, the screen painfully dark. He was trying to spare himself the temptation of checking it every second, but this isn’t any better.

After staring at it for a few more seconds, he reaches for it and replays the voicemail he’d sent to Nari over an hour ago.

“Hey. It’s me. Seokjin. Er, Kim Seokjin. I got discharged and I’m home. I hydrated, too, like you said. Still am, in fact. You may have been onto something, Dr Choi. Anyway… thanks for coming yesterday. It really meant a lot and I’m… God, I can’t tell you how good it was to hang out with you again. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it. And… I do want to talk about last week. I know things have been really weird with us for a while but I don’t want them to be anymore. I’ve been thinking a lot this last week - I can’t help it, I’ve tried to stop, believe me. I’ve been way too afraid to lose you as a friend. I’d be lost without you, Nari. But… I may have been overcompensating on that front. I don’t know where this leaves us, but I want to figure it out. With you. Not in my own head, the way I’ve been doing it this whole time. I’m flying out tomorrow, but do you think we could talk tonight? Coincidentally, I have everything needed to whip up jajjangmyeon, too. Just throwing that in there. Let me know. Oh, this Seokjin.”

There’s a click to signal the end of the message, but Seokjin’s stomach churns more than ever, though not necessarily in a bad way. He’s officially entered the ring, albeit to do what, he isn’t completely sure. All he knows is that there’s no ignoring this anymore, the uncomfortable distance with Nari, the subtle hostility between her and Seulgi, the distaste with which he thinks of Kang Jason at the oddest times.

Nari hasn’t replied or called him back yet, but he tries not to stress about it. Most likely, she’s in surgery, or the ER, or even catching up on sleep in an on-call room. He’s determined to stay up all night, though; he can sleep on the flight tomorrow.

Automatically, his eyes fall to the last message he’d sent to Seulgi. Hey. I was hoping we could talk. Call me when you’re free?

She had replied a little while ago. Sure. Everything okay?

Seokjin didn’t have a response to that, so he’d sent her a skull emoji instead, hoping that would do the trick.

He wishes he wasn’t touring right now. There’s a better way to do this: with Seulgi, in person, thorough and rational - and then with Nari, slow and gentle, giving her space and control. 

But he has one day - no, one night - before he leaves once more for weeks, with all three of them left to stew in their own thoughts for that time. Sure, he can call - but calls can be ignored. So can messages, and voicemails, and then before he knows it, he’s back in Seoul, tired and jet lagged only to find out that the situation has progressed, leaving him completely out of the loop.

After considering it for a minute, he picks up the phone and calls Seulgi. Fortunately, she picks it up on the second ring.

“Hey,” she says, panting slightly. “I went out for a run; I was just about to call you. What’s up?”

“Um -“ He bites his lip. “Not - not much. How are you? How are your folks?”

“They’re good. Mum’s asking when she can meet you but I deflected that,” she adds, but there’s a knowing lilt to her voice. “You have enough going on right now.”

Do I ever. “I appreciate that. I just wanted to talk before I fly out tomorrow.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could’ve been there. You barely get any time off as it is and even when you do, I’m not in town.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He picks at a loose thread on the corner of the sofa. “You don’t have to accommodate your family plans around my crazy schedule. And I’ll be back again soon.”

“Can’t wait.” She pauses. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asks, apparently done with small talk. “You seemed serious.”

It’s not serious, he’s about to say, but stops himself. “It’s… it’s about Nari. We kind of… ran into each other.”

There’s another pause, a longer one this time. “Okay. When?”

“Yesterday, when she visited me at the hospital. I wasn’t expecting -“

“You were in the hospital?” She interrupts him, tone suddenly anxious.

He freezes. “Yeah, but it - it wasn’t serious. I was dehydrated, that’s all. I don’t even know why they took me to the hospital, honestly. I’m back home now.”

Her next response is instant. “But Nari knew?”

“I - only because it was her hospital. And I didn’t tell her - she found out.” He waits for her to respond. “Seulgi, it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t here - I didn’t want to worry you. I’m perfectly fine, really.”

There’s another pause and then she sighs deeply. “Okay. Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

Oh, boy. “Kind of. Well, no. I…” He sighs. “God, I really wish we were doing this in person,” he mutters.

“Wait. Are you -“ She scoffs, but it breaks slightly. “Are you breaking up with me? Over the phone?”

“No! No, I’m not. Look, I think I need to talk to Nari,” he says quickly before he loses his nerve. “It’s been a long time and I… I really need to know what’s going on. But I want you to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Where do I start? “I mean, you know what it’s been like. But it’s just been too long - and I think she might be ready to talk to me, too. I have to try and fix it with her… I hope you understand why, Seulgi,” he adds, meaning it and already feeling horrendous.

“But I thought she was mad at you.” Seulgi is calm - too calm, and it’s worrying. “Or something. What’s changed?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” It’s not a complete lie. I think she might have feelings for me based on a moment we shared a week ago, where neither of us actually spoke. Not only did it sound insane, it didn’t actually clarify anything. There was no point bringing it up when he wasn’t sure of it either.

“So…” She takes a deep breath on the other end. “Let me get this straight. She’s been evasive and distant and - let’s face it - sort of pissed at you. And then something changed… and suddenly she’s nursing you back to health during a hospital visit that I’m finding out about now.”

Seokjin closes his eyes. “I know it sounds bad,” he murmurs. “And I know it’s my fault it’s so messed up. I don’t… If I think back, I don’t know where I went wrong, but I’m sure I did something. You know?” He bites his lip, suddenly glad he’s flying out tomorrow, far away from his girlfriend and his best friend where he can’t hurt them anymore. “I don’t want to be unfair to you,” he admits.

“Why do you think you are?” she asks quietly.

“I don’t know…” He runs a hand down his face tiredly. “There’s a lot of history there and baggage and stuff…” There's no telling what we’ll find.

“You know what I think, Seokjin?” she says after a few moments. “I think you’re not fully sure of what you want. Or you are,” she guesses, “and you just don’t want to admit it because if you do and you don’t get it, you’re afraid it’ll devastate you.”

Seokjin swallows. His vision blurs without warning and he blinks rapidly, a distinct memory threatening to surface, of hope being crushed in his chest, a life he’d dared to imagine disappearing before he’d even fully wrapped his head around it. He’d repressed it as best as he could, figuring there was no one to blame but himself for this lapse in judgement, but it had inadvertently set actions in motion that he will regret for a long time. 

He’s taking too long to respond, he realises, but he’s afraid to speak. It might all boil down to that one night and the thought of what it meant - of what it might still mean - is too overwhelming to think about. 

“I’m glad you don’t want to be unfair to me,” she states, and there’s finally a bite to her tone. “So call me when you figure it out.” She hangs up.

Seokjin stays frozen for a minute before he sighs, tossing his phone back on the sofa and dropping his head in his hands. Suddenly, everything about his relationship with Seulgi feels tainted, now that his mind is involuntarily tracing the timeline of events back to the day he met her, and then ran into her again. She was lovely and calm and straightforward and put together - and he was so tired.

He needs to talk to Nari. He needs to. His mind is blocked and so is his heart, and it’s occurring to him now that it all comes to Nari. Everything comes down to Nari.

He’d been vague but he can’t imagine she would simply ignore his message, not unless she absolutely hated him. She didn’t, though, his brain reasoned. 

She’d visited him, actually talked with him, and she’d called him Kimbap. She would call. Even if she couldn’t meet him, she would call, or text. All he has to do is wait.

—

Nari takes off her lab coat and shakes her hair out, glad to be done with the day.

“See you tomorrow, Nari,” says one of her friends, a perky first year resident with the kind of confidence Nari could only dream of. “Say hi to your famous friend for me.” She winks and leaves.

Nari rolls her eyes but scoffs in humour. Somehow, the other residents in the surgical wing had caught wind of the fact that she knew the elusive celebrity idol that was admitted to the hospital yesterday and while she’d neither confirmed nor denied it, the story spread anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” comments Hyeri, her friend, changing out of her scrubs at the locker next door. “What did you take and can I have some?”

Nari frowns curiously and laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“That. The laughing and the smiling and the… being nice to first years and interns.” Hyeri raises her eyebrows. “We haven’t had the mental capacity for that shit in years.” She raises her eyebrows. “Is it actually because of your famous friend? I mean -” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “We’re talking about Seokjin, right?”

“I - yeah. He was here,” admits Nari. “Nothing serious, though. He got discharged today.”

“Oh.” Hyeri sounds surprised at the admission. “That makes sense. You’re relieved.”

Yes… and no. She’s certainly glad Seokjin’s okay, but despite how selfish it makes her feel, she’s even gladder that for the first time in a long time, she was able to be herself around her best friend. It’s definitely relief - Hyeri isn’t wrong about that.

“I can’t believe we’re actually out early enough to have dinner,” remarks Hyeri as they head out of the locker room, out of scrubs and in normal clothes again. “I’m going to get in the tub with a glass of wine and fall asleep in there. Obviously I’m not serious,” she adds quickly, catching Nari’s eye.

“Hey, no judgement. Add some candles while you’re at it and it’ll look like a Madonna video.”

Hyeri chortles. “I’m out of wine, though. Can you send me the number to that liquor store? The one that delivers?”

Nari nods, fishing her phone out of her bag. “Shit. My phone’s dead. Daeun has it, though - she’s the one who sent it to me.”

“Okay, let me - oh, there she is!” Waving hurriedly, Hyeri jogs towards the entrance to catch up with Daeun, another of their resident class who’s leaving for the night as well.

Nari smiles as she watches her friend dash away, and catches herself. The laughing and the smiling and the being nice to interns. It’s not a mystery, the origin of this brand new version of herself. It took a long time and a lot of frustration and courage, but a week after the fact, she knows she’s at a place with Seokjin that she was only hoping she would eventually reach.

It’s a start, she tells herself. It’s a start and irrespective of what happens next, at least it’s a start. She’s lighter and she’s calmer - sometimes, there are moments where she feels freer, as though the invisible chain that kept her tethered to her suppressed feelings has been cut through with a chainsaw. 

She stops by the pharmacy in the lobby of the surgical wing to pick up some antiseptic for her first aid box. While the cashier rings up her purchase, she turns absently and spots Jason at the reception, still in scrubs and handing in a couple of patient charts. As he clicks his pen closed and tucks it in his pocket, he grins at something the nurse says and responds, making her laugh.

Grabbing her antiseptic, Nari walks over to him, smiling when he spots her.

“Hey.” He takes in her clothing? “Leaving already? I thought you were helping Dr Park with her trial research.”

Nari shrugs. “She gave me the night off.”

“Wow. Is she okay?”

“I’m not going to ask; I’m just taking the night,” she tells him. It’s a start. “What about you? Are you, uh, free tonight?”

Jason raises his eyebrows casually. “Uh, yeah. I have a couple of things to close out, but I can head out in a bit. Or I can meet you back at my apartment, too, if you want.”

“No, um…” She shakes her head and bites her lip. She hasn’t done this in… ever. “I meant, are you free… for a drink.”

He clearly notices the change in her tone. “A drink,” he repeats. “Just you and me. Like a…”

“M-hm.” Nari nods, but she doesn’t think he’ll say no. Familiarity builds over time, and Nari is suddenly seeing the world - and the people in it - in a newer light.

After a moment, Jason nods. “Absolutely. Just give me fifteen minutes?” He waits for her to nod as well and smiles, touching her elbow as he leaves.

She watches him go and her heart beats pleasantly fast with a small risk that’s paid off. She’s definitely lighter, brighter, calmer - and she can only route it back to the night of her confession to Seokjin. It felt like a start but maybe - just maybe - it was closure.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[indndwnshead]

Amalgamation: Bonus - You + Maknae line

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Chapter tags: developing relationship, meeting the little bros, surprisingly wise but still baby-est jungkook

Series summary:

Now that you are a permanent fixture in Min Yoongi's life, it's inevitable that you meet the rest of BTS.

Each encounter with the rest of the group becomes a unique thread in the tapestry of life, gradually integrating disparate elements into a harmonious whole and seamlessly weaving into the fabric of your joined world.

A/N: A bonus chapter to celebrate Yoongi's birthday, ft the maknae line. HAPPY BIRTHDAY OUR DEAREST DARLING, OUR YOONIVERSE <3

---

Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.

Also read on: AO3

---

It had become a familiar sight to see you around the agency building, whether it was accompanying Yoongi or hanging out with the other members of BTS. On this particular Tuesday afternoon, you found yourself wandering the hallway outside of Yoongi's studio, feeling a little down after he had to cancel your plans last minute due to a sudden request from the musician he was collaborating with.

As you stood there contemplating your next move, Jungkook suddenly appeared beside you, his eyes bright and mischievous. "Hey, _____, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing the slight downturn of your lips.

You sighed softly. "Oh, it's nothing, Kookie. Just a little disappointed that Yoongi couldn't hang out today."

Jungkook's face immediately lit up with a grin. "Well, how about this? I know a vendor that sells the best hotteok in town. It'll definitely cheer you up! And, remember that promise you made to take me to the movies? I think today's the perfect day to cash in on it!"

Your eyes widened in surprise at Jungkook's suggestion, but you couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. "Hotteok and a movie, huh? Sounds like a plan!"

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Jungkook led you to a part of the building you’ve never been in before. He open a door to a room filled with costumes, excitement palpable as he prepared for the adventure ahead. "Time to get creative!" he exclaimed, gesturing for you to join him in selecting disguises.

After donning your 'disguise,' Jungkook led you out of the building through the back entrance, the two of you giggling like schoolchildren escaping your least favorite subject as you embarked on your impromptu outing.

—

Meanwhile, back at the studio, Yoongi couldn't shake off a nagging worry as he tried to focus on his work. Your text message about hanging out with just Jungkook only added to his concern. Thoughts of worst-case scenarios, like paparazzi or overzealous fans, raced through his mind, making it difficult to concentrate.

His anxiety only eased when BTS's manager forwarded him pictures taken by one of Big Hit's bodyguards, who had secretly followed Jungkook and you since you left HYBE's building. The images showed you both laughing and enjoying yourselves, seemingly oblivious to the discreet surveillance. A smile tugged at Yoongi's lips as he admired your adorable disguises in the photos.

He quickly texted the manager back, asking him to contact the theatre where he knew Jungkook often went. Remembering the movie you had mentioned Jungkook booking tickets for, Yoongi instructed the manager to secure the theatre for your scheduled showtime and the ones before and after yours, just to be safe.

Relieved when the manager confirmed the arrangements, Yoongi refocused on his work, determined to finish up before nightfall so he could welcome you and Jungkook home with a sense of relief and peace of mind

—

Meanwhile, as you and Jungkook indulged in hotteok and laughter, you marveled at the simple joy of the moment. The warmth of the hotteok and the company of your friend lifted your spirits, filling the air with infectious laughter and carefree chatter.

"How's the hotteok?" Jungkook asked, a playful twinkle in his eye.

With a grin, you gave him a thumbs up. "Amazing! You'll have to share more of these vendors with me, Kook-ah."

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Why spoil the fun? I'll take you to my secret places myself too," he replied with a grin.

After indulging in your cravings, Jungkook led you to a nearby cinema where he had already booked the tickets. As you both entered the surprisingly empty VIP lounge, you couldn't help but express your surprise. "I didn't expect it to be this empty," you remarked aloud.

Jungkook gave a nonchalant shrug, but a faint frown betrayed his thoughts. "This is where Jiminie hyung, Taehyungie hyung, and I usually go," he explained.

You chose a seat in the corner of the room, strategically positioned so you faced the entrance while Jungkook sat opposite you, away from the view. It was a precautionary measure; while not everyone would recognize you, Jungkook's international fame made him more easily recognizable.

"So, how's everything with Yoongi-hyung?" Jungkook's suddenly asked in a gentle voice, his eyes holding a genuine concern as he leaned in slightly, as if to share a private moment with you.

Feeling a soft tug at your heart, you let out a soft sigh, allowing yourself to open up about the worries that had been weighing on your mind. "It's good, really good," you began, your voice a gentle whisper amidst the quiet hum of the studio. "But sometimes I worry about him, you know? He works so hard, and I just want to make sure he's taking care of himself."

With a reassuring nod, Jungkook offered a comforting smile that reached his eyes. "I get it. Hyung has always been a workaholic, and we used to worry about him a lot too," he confessed, his tone soft yet reassuring. "But he knows his own limits now, so we just let him be."

Your heart softened at his understanding, feeling a sense of kinship in his words. "I know," you murmured, a hint of longing in your voice. "But sometimes I can’t help but worry, especially when he gets lost in his work for days on end."

Jungkook's playful grin appeared, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Well, if it ever comes to that, I'll be more than ready to break his studio door down for you," he teased, his voice laced with playful determination.

A soft laugh bubbled from your lips at the mental image, a warmth spreading through your chest at his playful offer. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I don’t want him to feel annoyed by my worrying," you confessed, your voice tinged with concern. "He already has enough on his plate to deal with."

"Hey, don't say that," he interjected gently, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. "He's lucky to have you looking out for him, noona." A playful glint returned to his eyes, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. "And let me tell you, the first time you went away to shoot overseas, hyung was like a moody teenager all over again. Reminded me of our early debut years a little."

Amusement flickered in your eyes at the image he painted, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Was it really that bad?"

Jungkook chuckled softly, a fondness evident in his voice as he reminisced. "Oh, it was worse," he admitted, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "He was glued to his phone, hoping for a message from you. We could always tell when he got one because there would be this small smile on his face."

A faint blush dusted your cheeks at the revelation, a warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of Yoongi's fondness for you. "You know," Jungkook continued, his voice taking on a sincere tone, "Hyung has mellowed out a lot over the years, but I never thought I'd see him like this."

"Like what?" you asked softly, curiosity lacing your words as you met Jungkook's gaze.

"In love," he replied simply, his eyes holding a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. "And it's a beautiful thing."

A shy smile tugged at your lips, touched by Jungkook's heartfelt words. "You don't think I'm too far below his level?" you asked hesitantly, a hint of insecurity creeping into your voice. "I mean, I'm just an unknown actress compared to you guys."

Jungkook's eyes softened, a gentle reassurance shining in their depths as he reached out to offer you comfort. "Noona, you're not just an unknown actress," he said earnestly, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "You're someone who makes hyung happy, and that's all that matters to us. Yoongi-hyung knows what he wants in life, and he's always been the type to go after what he wants. He chose you, noona. That means he's sure of you, and he wants you to stay."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, moved by Jungkook's heartfelt words. "Thank you, Kookie," you whispered softly, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as his words filled you with a sense of belonging. "That means more than you know."

A gentle smile graced Jungkook's lips, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding that seemed to bridge the gap between you. In that moment, as the warmth of his presence enveloped you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of ease wash over you.

You weren't sure what had prompted you to share your feelings with him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the closest to you in age, or maybe it was the ease with which he listened, his comforting presence feeling like a balm to your worries. Whatever the reason, talking to him felt natural, as though you were confiding in a trusted friend.

As you exchanged words, memories of the anecdotes Yoongi had shared about Jungkook and the rest of the members raising him as the youngest flooded your mind. You couldn't help but marvel at how well Jungkook had grown, thanks to the guidance and support of his older brothers. It was evident in moments like these, where his wisdom and empathy shone through, that he had truly blossomed into someone remarkable.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted you out of your conversation with Jungkook, causing you to tense up instinctively. However, your anxiety melted away when familiar faces rounded the corner, their presence bringing a sense of comfort and familiarity.

With his signature eye smile, Jimin greeted you both warmly, while Tae's distinctive mop of hair made him easily recognizable from a distance. Jungkook's face lit up with delight as he ran to them, enveloping both guys in a tight hug. "Jiminie! Taehyungie! What are you doing here?"

Jimin and Tae exchanged a secretive glance over Jungkook's head, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. "Let's just say we heard some interesting things from a certain someone," Jimin replied with a sly grin, refusing to elaborate further.

You raised an eyebrow at their cryptic response, but before you could inquire further, Tae flashed you a charming smile that could disarm anyone. "Hey, Cherie," he greeted you warmly, taking a seat next to you.

"Hey, Tae," you replied, unable to shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

Sensing your curiosity, Tae leaned in slightly, his expression earnest. "Don't worry about it," he reassured you softly.

"So, how's your day been going?" Tae asked, his voice soft yet filled with genuine interest.

You couldn't help but smile at his genuine concern. "It's been good, just a little unexpected twist in plans," you replied, casting a glance at Jungkook, who was still engaged in an animated conversation with Jimin.

Understandingly, Tae nodded, his eyes reflecting a profound empathy. "Well, sometimes those twists lead to the best adventures."

Before you could respond, Jimin rejoined the conversation with his trademark charm, shifting the topic to your day's events. Jungkook, with the enthusiasm of the youngest sibling, eagerly filled them in on the impromptu hotteok adventure, the movie escapade, and the plan to have dinner at Yoongi's later tonight.

Jimin listened attentively, his grin never fading as he absorbed every detail. "Sounds like you guys had a blast," he remarked with a playful tone, "Prepare to have more fun as we two join this plan of yours."

—

When you and the boys returned to Yoongi's apartment after the movie, you were greeted by the comforting sight of Yoongi waiting for you, a warm smile on his face. He had food delivered so all of you could enjoy a cozy night in together, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this relatively new part of your life.

As the night wore on and a few rounds of drinks were had, you were a little more than tipsy and had been clinging to Yoongi more openly than usual. One of his arms seemed permanently glued around your body, and Jimin couldn't help but playfully complain about your newfound PDA.

"You guys are being disgustingly sweet now," Jimin teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Yoongi chuckled in response, "Blame it on her, she’s a clingy drunk," he said, but he pulled you even closer, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. You playfully swatted him away, fully aware of the fake gagging noises Jungkook made in the background.

“I am not!” you denied vehemently, only to snuggle closer to your boyfriend immediately after, trying to find your comfy spot.

Tae couldn't hold back his laughter, adding a light-hearted touch to the moment.

Later, when you had drifted off to sleep in Yoongi's embrace on the couch, Tae seized the opportunity to initiate a heart-to-heart conversation among the guys. "I just wanted to say, hyung, that I'm really happy for you. It's amazing to see how Cherie has brought out this new side of you."

“Love looks good on you, hyung,” Jungkook chimed in with a playful grin.

Jimin sighed wistfully, “Out of all of us, who would have ever thought you would be the first hyung?” He glanced at the way Yoongi’s eyes were trained on your sleeping face, a genuine smile breaking out on his own. “Kookie is right; love indeed looks good on you, Hyung. And thank God, Cherie’s genuinely a good person.”

Yoongi listened intently, feeling a swell of love and gratitude for their support. He looked down at your sleeping figure, a shy smile on his face. "She’s the missing piece I never thought I needed."

Jungkook suddenly slammed his glass down, taking the room’s full attention. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at Yoongi with a knowing smile on his lips, “Don’t think I didn’t recognize the men following us around and the empty movie theatre.”

Jimin and Tae burst into laughter.

“Ah, yeah, that’s how I found out, actually,” Jimin admitted to Jungkook. “I overheard our manager instructing the staff to rent out our usual theater.”

Taehyung nodded, “I asked around with the cordi noonas; they were pissed that you had stolen a few pieces for you and Cherie. Jiminie and I figured the theatre was for you guys.”

“And the one making the request must be none other than our resident lover boy,” Jimin added, a twinkle and amusement in his eyes as he sent Yoongi a knowing look.

“She doesn’t need to know,” Yoongi said, his lips forming the all too familiar self-reassured smile.

[ze-eternalmarsh]

Name: Hopeful In Colours

Ship: Yoonkook (Yoongi/Jungkook) - BTS

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: M/M, Gen

Wordcount: 775

Type: One Shot

Tags: depression, suicidal thoughts, hopeful ending, photography, photography major/art student Jungkook, strangers, developing friendship, healing

Summary:

He thought, so deeply, of getting washed away by the current, of letting his body sleep, finally, until the end of time.

or Yoongi is struggling and finds some hope in his life.

[yoongis-property]

YOONGI FICS JULY 2022

└➤ sorted by  。 。 。 AU

MASTERLIST

(last update: 10.08.2022)

m- mature , f- fluff , a- angst , c- crack/humor, ☆- personal favorite

e2l- enemies to lovers, s2l- strangers to lovers, f2l- friends to lovers, bf2l- best friends to lovers, cf2l- childhood friends to lovers, fwb2l- friends with benefits to lovers, ex2l- exes to lovers, i2l- idiots to lovers

↑- already mentioned in this post 

FINISHED

CAMPING TRIP!AU

⇢ S`more than friends by @borathae (f, m, slight a, f2l)

❝ Never Have I Ever had a crush on one of my best friends… ❞

CASHIER!YOONGI

⇢ keep the change by @httpjeon​ (m, f)

❝ typically an old man works the night shift at Greg’s Place. however, it seems there’s a new cute guy working the register at night now. and it just so happens it’s finals week... ❞

COLLEGE!AU

⇢ lipstick on my satin sheets by @minyfic​ (m, f, s2l)

❝ you don’t know his name, you don’t have an image of him in your mind, all you can recall is the deep, inviting drawl that seems to hypnotize you whenever you’re speaking under the cover of darkness; the frenzy is what drives you to seek out the man behind the enticing voice, even if it goes against the rules. ❞

⇢ Hug-o-gram by @cinnaminsvga​ (f, hugging booth!au, ☆)

❝“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.} ❞

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

⇢ THINKING OF YOU by @smaubts​ (f, c, slight a, sm!au)

❝ yoongi and y/n hate each other, at least that's what they tell everyone. when unexpected events occur they begin to realise that maybe the real cause for all the hate is because it's a way to hide the feelings they won't admit. ❞

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!AU

⇢ spit by @rmverse​ (m)

⇢ eat, sleep, work, fuck by @jeonloops​ (m)

⇢ at the nightclub by @7deadlysinsfics​ (m, read warnings!)

⇢ i've been missing you by @jjksblackgf​ (f, m)

❝ Yoongi gets so pleasantly surprised that you surprised him that he decides to fuck the shit out of you. ❞

⇢ i love you. by @theluckyyyoneee​ (f)

❝ you ask yourself what your husband's reaction would be if you didn't tell him you loved him back ❞

(I`m not sure if there`s just fluff in this, bc i read this almost a year ago)

FRIENDS TO LOVERS

⇢ S`more than friends by @borathae (f, m, slight a, camping trip!au) ↑

❝ Never Have I Ever had a crush on one of my best friends… ❞

⇢ Mine by @kookiecrumb​ (bf2l)

⇢ back-burner by @yoonpobs​ (a, m, f, read warnings!, ☆)

❝ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete? ❞

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS!AU

⇢ Freak by @chemicalpink​ (m)

❝ Min Yoongi has a thing for bending you over in front of a mirror. ❞

HIGH SCHOOL!AU

⇢ Lab Partners by @jungblue​ (m)

❝ What happens when your dreams get taken over by your newly assigned lab partner Min Yoongi? ❞

NEIGHBOUR!AU

⇢ Neighborly Etiquette by @cinnaminsvga​ (f, slight a)

❝ You and your boyfriend live across from Yoongi’s apartment, much to his chagrin. Your laughter and dancing and bed creaking were seriously annoying him, until it stops. Then, Yoongi finds himself knocking on your door. And no, he’s definitely not there to comfort you. No way. ❞

STRANGERS TO LOVERS

⇢ Wildest Moments by @joonbird​ (m, f, a, cheating!)

❝ Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart. ❞

⇢ lipstick on my satin sheets by @minyfic​ (m, f, college!au) ↑

❝ you don’t know his name, you don’t have an image of him in your mind, all you can recall is the deep, inviting drawl that seems to hypnotize you whenever you’re speaking under the cover of darkness; the frenzy is what drives you to seek out the man behind the enticing voice, even if it goes against the rules. ❞

OTHER

⇢ Breakfast in Bed by @joonbird​ (f, m, ikea employee!au)

❝ Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea. ❞

⇢ Cooking Class by @btsrunmylife​ (f, cooking!au)

❝ Realizing how little you actually know about the one thing needed for survival, you decide to take a cooking class. One of the other students catches your eye, not necessarily because he’s attractive (although, he is), but because he clearly already knows what he’s doing. And that…really isn’t fair. ❞

⇢ Trick or Treat. by @satnin-darling​ (m, halloween!au, feat. jk)

❝ The Joker, a Gray Pianist, and an Action-taker were supposed to walk into a bar on Halloween. Turns out they don't even make it past the front door because they were too busy fucking each other to partake in this year’s spooky season ❞

⇢ ddaeng bang by @kookskingdom​ (m, boxer!yoongi, read warnings!)

UNFINISHED

ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU

⇢ Set Me Free by @myooniverse​ (f, m, a)

❝ Growing up as the sole heiress to your father’s fortune wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. In desperate need to escape your home life, you enter into an unexpected arrangement with the infamous Min Yoongi. Will the both of you be able to find freedom, happiness and possibly love? ❞

[yoongerinelove]

Like home

Author’s note: this is the VERY FIRST fanfiction I have ever written. And it’s the first creative thing I’ve written since . . . middle school? I used to want to be a writer but I became self-conscious and perfectionistic (not super helpful for a wannabe writer), so I stopped writing. Recently I was inspired to revisit this old hobby of mine and decided to try writing something that was free of any pressure whatsoever and ta-da! now I have this overly self-indulgent beginning of a story. I am actually a pediatric psychologist and this is my fantasy of a meet-cute with Yoongi. I discovered BTS in early 2020 as I was really struggling with my job and then the pandemic made things even more difficult. I was living alone, 4 hours away from family, during a pandemic that put even more pressure on a job that was already burning me out. BTS became one of the few sources of joy  at the time and I truly believe they helped me out of one of the worst periods of my life. I have written more about this fantasy life with Yoongi (including some smut), but it’s not even close to a cohesive story and there is no point other than to practice writing. Again, this is the first thing I’ve written in decades and I have NO IDEA how to use Tumblr, so I’d love any feedback or even just to hear how BTS has helped you. Take care!

It was a typical Thursday. I trudged through my door and dropped my bags, exhausted. My work used to energize me, but I had been feeling more and more drained at the end of the week. I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe a headache that had been building all day, as I walked toward the kitchen to try to scrounge up something to eat. I willed myself to focus on the present moment and not think about having to go back to work in the morning. Am I burning out? Are the decades of hustling through undergrad, graduate school, internship, postdoctoral fellowship, and licensing all catching up to me? I was so singularly focused on my goal for so long, did I ever stop to ask myself if the goal still made me happy? The timer for my rice dinged me back to reality. Thoughts like this were creeping in more and more recently. Thoughts like “am I happy?” often followed and sent me on a path straight toward an existential crisis. “Tomorrow will be different,” I reminded myself, remembering that a famous band was going to visit our unit to meet the kids. It would definitely be different from the norm, which was at least something.

I woke up feeling nervous. I took a bit of extra time getting ready in the morning, applying a bit of concealer and blush when I would normally only wear mascara. Morning rounds went smoothly, but there was definitely a noticeable buzz in the air. A positive buzz, which was rare on the children’s oncology unit. I tried to enjoy the moment, but I found myself pacing in my office during the late morning. I’m always nervous when I meet new people and these new people had cameras with them. I reminded myself that it was for the kids and took a deep breath in through my nose to slow my heart rate. A loud knock on my office door snapped me back to reality. I opened the door to one of the nurses smiling brightly, “BTS is here to see you!” I pulled the door all the way open and in walked about a dozen people.

I picked out the seven members instantly, as well as three people with cameras, a few makeup artists, and what I presumed to be a manager or two. I backed up and leaned against my desk. My office was big enough to hold everyone, but I started to feel stifled as I breathed in slowly through my nose again. I smiled and said “welcome, I’m Dr. Y/L/N, thank you all so much for coming.” The tallest one, RM, whose name I learned after extensive quizzing from the kids, smiled a sweet, dimpled smile and said “thank you for inviting us, it’s a privilege to be here, I’m RM.” I paused and scanned the faces in the room for the other 6 that were familiar to me after weeks of memorization drills. “You’re RM, of course,” I scanned all the way to the right “and you’re Jin, J-hope, V, Jimin, Suga, and Jungkook,” they each smiled and nodded in turn. “Welcome to the hospital, we are so pleased to have you. I’m the lead psychologist on the unit. I’m not sure if you read my letter, but we are very big BTS fans on this unit.” RM nodded, “we did read it and it was very touching.” The rest of the guys nodded. “Your music really is healing,” I explained, “we listen to it all the time in group. It started about a year ago when I asked the kids to bring in a song that expressed a feeling they weren’t able to express with their own words. One girl brought in ‘Ugh’ and explained that the lyrics were about feeling righteous anger at actual injustice, rather than petty things, and she said it perfectly explained how she felt listening to her friends complain about homework as she had to go through chemotherapy. I was astounded and went home to listen to the song and read the translated lyrics and it was just amazing. Since then, BTS songs have been a regular part of our group therapy, so thank you all for writing such meaningful music.” A deep yet soft voice responded, “it’s really nice to hear that people can gain strength from these songs.” I scanned the room and saw that it was Suga speaking, dark eyes sparkling over a lopsided grin. He continued, “sometimes I wonder if people actually understand what we’re trying to communicate when we write them, but this is really validating.” A few of the members looked surprised at Suga’s words, RM even had an eyebrow cocked. “I can’t tell you how excited our kids are to meet you all,” I paused for a moment and inhaled slowly, “and I want to let you all know that today might be a tough day for you. A lot of people really struggle after being on a kids’ cancer floor, I definitely did when I started here. It’s OK to feel sad and angry, but please try to stay as positive in front of the kids as possible.” They all nodded emphatically, but I could see some concern on their faces. “We can debrief after your visit and I’m here for whatever you need. I’m just so thankful that you’re here.” I smiled brightly and reviewed a few more expectations before we headed out the door.

After the visit everyone crowded back into my office. I could see tears in a few of their eyes as I quietly passed around a tissue box. “I really can’t tell you how appreciative I am, it’s been a while since we’ve felt that sort of energy and positivity on this unit,” I paused to give them time to come back to the moment. “Here’s my card,” I handed a card to everyone in the room, “please do not hesitate to call or email if you want to talk about this, I know how hard it can be. I just hope you can be comforted by the fact that you all brought so much joy to those children today.” I made sure to look each person in the eye as I shook their hands, trying to communicate just how thankful I was for their trip. Once they had all shuffled out of the door, I sank into my office chair and let out a long breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding.

That night I walked into my home and felt exhausted, but it was a different kind of exhaustion than the one to which I had grown accustomed. I made dinner absentmindedly as I reflected on the day’s activities. While waiting for water to boil, I pulled out my phone and checked my work email out of habit. I had one new message from “Min Yoongi” that read “Hi Dr. Y/L/N, it’s Suga from BTS. Thank you for having us at the hospital today, it was an eye-opening experience. I wanted to ask if you are free to meet sometime to talk about what you do? I’m very interested in psychology and would really like to talk to you about it. We’re in town for a little while, so there’s no rush. Hope to hear from you soon.” My heart sped up a little bit, this superstar was interested in MY job? How funny. I dashed off a reply offering to meet him at a coffee shop on Friday after my morning shift at the hospital. To my surprise, I got a quick response back agreeing to meet the next day.

I walked in and scanned the small coffee shop and saw a handful of tech-types hunched over laptops. I saw a figure in a black baseball cap and dark clothes in a booth on in the back corner, next to the windows. He looked up and I could see Suga smiling behind round-rimmed glasses underneath the ball cap. “Hi Suga, I’m so sorry I’m late, my meeting ran over,” I said almost breathlessly, as I had power walked from my car. He smiled and said “it’s no problem, I’ve only been here a minute or two. Also, you can call me Yoongi, that’s my real name.” I felt my heart speed up a little, almost like it was a privilege to call him by his real name. “Well Yoongi, since I’m late, it’s my treat,” I said as I grabbed for my wallet. “No no, I’m the one who asked you here, it’s my treat,” he insisted, pushing my wallet away, “what would you like?” “An iced Americano please,” I replied as I tucked my wallet back into my purse. He gave a lopsided smile and slid out of the booth and up to the counter to order. I took a deep breath in through my nose to steady my heartrate.

“I drink iced Americanos too,” he said as he got back into the booth. I grinned, “not for the faint of heart.” After pausing a beat to let him get settled, I dove in, “so you’re into psychology?” Yoongi nodded, “I’ve always been interested in how people think, myself included,” he chuckled, “and I recently started reading some books on psychological theory. I meet so many people and sometimes I just don’t know what to say, so it would be nice to have a way to make people feel better,” he shrugged, “how did you get into psychology?” “Me?” I looked up as the server dropped off the coffee. I tapped the straw onto the table, “my noble answer is that I wanted to help people, but I think I just like learning about people. A supervisor one told me I gave her favorite answer to the question of ‘why do you want to be a psychologist’ when she interviewed me,” I pulled the straw from the wrapping with my teeth. “And?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation. I shrugged, “I said it was because I’m nosy.” He laughed and his shoulders shook, which made me laugh. I continued, “I guess I’ve always felt my life was pretty boring, so I’ve been fascinated by learning about other people.” “Now I’m the one who’s fascinated,” Yoongi smiled shyly and his dark eyes sparkled. I felt my stomach lurch and my cheeks flush, there was no way this handsome, famous man was flirting with me. He was being nice, I had to get a grip. We chatted about psychology and then it turned, as it inevitably does, to our families. “What about you? Do you get to see your family often?” I asked. “Maybe a few times a year. I’ve always been pretty independent, but I’ve found it’s a little harder to be away now that I’m older and my parents are older,” he replied. “Do you have any siblings?” “An older brother, what about you?” “Ah a youngest child, I should have known,” I winked, “I have a younger sister.” “An oldest child, I should have known,” Yoongi winked back and smiled so widely that his eyes crinkled and I could see his pink gums. “I live pretty far from my family too, I miss them a lot,” I looked down, fiddling with the empty straw wrapper. “It’s hard to feel like you have to sacrifice certain things for your career. I didn’t mind as much when I was younger but,” Yoongi trailed off, looking out the window. It was like he had read my mind. I had had this conversation with friends so many times before. “Exactly. I’ve moved around so many times for training and for work. I always felt like I had to move on to the next thing and now that I guess I’ve reached my goals, I feel like ‘now what?’ It’s a little scary.” Yoongi’s eyes softened and his voice lowered almost to a whisper “I know exactly what you mean.” The air hung comfortably quiet around us until I spoke, “maybe I need to make some new goals to work on.” Yoongi smiled and his phone buzzed, he checked it and then his eyes opened wide, “oh man it’s already 2PM.” I pulled out my phone, not able to believe him, “what?! No wonder I’m starving. Do you want to grab lunch, I don’t think this place has food.” I gulped after I realized what I’d done. I’m sure this man has plenty more to do than spend more time with me today. He nodded, “yes absolutely, what do you recommend?” My heart quickened, “do you like Mexican food? I know an incredible taco place close by.” He nodded and pulled out his phone, “I’ll have to call a car.” “Oh don’t be silly, I can drive you if you want.” “OK,” he smiled and followed me to the car. He got into the passenger seat and looked around, “it’s kind of weird to sit in the front seat, I’m always in the back even if it’s just me,” he said wistfully. It seemed that sitting in the front seat was a joy for him and I was happy to oblige, “oh yeah, I imagine you don’t drive yourself around a lot anymore.” “No, I do miss it though.” We chatted about the weather as we drove to the taco shop.

I can drop you wherever you need to go,” I offered after we finished lunch. “That’s really nice, I’m heading to the recording studio, I’ll pull up the GPS.” We continued to chat easily as we drove through the streets. I began to feel a slight sadness with every turn, realizing my time with Yoongi was coming to an end. It had been a while since I had such an easygoing time with someone, it was a nice break, and almost like having a friend in this still-new-to-me city. I pulled into the parking lot and put on a close-lipped smile. Yoongi turned to me, his eyebrows knitted, “that drive felt too short,” he said and gave a half smile. My smile turned genuine and I replied “I know.” “We should get coffee or something again soon, I’ll probably have more psychology questions for you,” he said, looking out the window. Could he really be asking to see me again? “Let me give you my number so you can text me or call me,” he typed my number into his cell phone and smiled then got out of the car. I was disappointed he didn’t text me right away to share his number, maybe he was just being polite when he said he wanted to get coffee again. He’s famous, he knows how to charm people. I was feeling a little disappointed all afternoon until I got a text from an unknown number at around 7PM. It was a picture of an iced Americano with the caption “not for the faint of heart.”

[marxy-06]

Favorites Rec List 3

More of my favs -> Thanks to all these incredible writers for making my day a little better :))

Kim Namjoon

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

A little bit in love with you (@joonbo)

Mr. masseuse (@lavenjoon)

"Let me take care of you" (@mintelepathy)

Fantasies (@sweetwritertanya)

Kim Seokjin

24/7 Marriage counselor (@jimlingss)

A better grip (@jinkookspencil)

A helping hand (@jjungkookislife)

You again (@gashinabts)

Soarin' (@aquagustd)

Seokjin's ho ho ho (@yoongsisbae)

Jealous (@youtifulhobi)

Sacrifices (@justcallmenikki7)

Influence (@aquagustd)

Min Yoongi

Back burner (@yoonpobs)

Escapism (@yoonlattesworld)

Finding home (@helenazbmrskai)

Strawberry icecream (@euphoricfilter)

When I needed you (@dreamescapeswriting)

The cockpile: love birds (@httpjeon)

Crescendo (@ugh-yoongi)

Apricity (@delightfulserendipity)

Jung Hoseok

All it takes (@yoongiofmine)

Nibbling it (@jjksblackgf)

The promises we keep (@vyduan)

Your body is an artwork (@borathae)

Maybe the first, but not the last time (@euphoricfilter)

Park Jimin

Oh so reluctant (@back2bluesidex)

Pretty like you (@axigailxo)

Serendipity (@angellesword)

Blowing dandelions (@httpjeon)

All I need (@joonberriess)

Apricot (@vminity21)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Star light, star bright (@readyplayerhobi)

High school sweethearts (@choiwrites)

Taste of little (@maliby)

Cherry king (@jiminrings)

Turning to stone (@jjungkookislife)

He makes you insecure (@kookiesbuckethat)

Kim Taehyung

The art of touch (@chateautae)

Nude (@btssmutgalore)

Triads and tribulations (@rendaze)

Match made in heaven (@beenbaanbuun)

"I'll take care of you" (@guqwrvte)

Library kisses (@kwanslvr)

Jeon Jungkook

Way Back Home (@solemnreads)

Stretch you out (@chateautae)

Seven Days (@bonny-kookoo)

Jock!jungkook (@joonberriess)

Tracing your tattoos (@btsugarush)

Shades of red (@thatlongspringnight)

Pu$$y fairy (@angelguk)

Idealizations concerning real life relations (@venusiangguk)

Little blue pill (@dreamescapeswriting)

Brown eyed baby (@jeonstudios)

Superstar (@jinkookspencil)

Spicy n' sweet (@thvhoe)

The ability to fathom (@hanniwrites)

Bad omega, sweet omega (@helenazbmrskai)

"I couldn't live without you" (@jungk0oksthighs)

In my eyes (@axigailxo)

"Besties for the resties?" (@jessikahathaway)

You're leaving me (@delukoo)

Love; weakness (@akinnie75)

Bloodline (@jjkeverlast)

Greek god (@bonny-kookoo)

Size kink (@lavenjoon)

Ex on the beach (@beahae)

Off-league (@hansolmates)

Accidental roommates (@jjkeverlast)

Good girl (@bonny-kookoo)

Crazy (@kookiecrumb)

Curious boy (@jinkookspencil)

Confident (@h0neypjm)

Still perfect (@cupoftaae)

OT7

Trouvaille (@spookyserenades)

A comforting hand (@purpleyoonn)

Abundance (@angelicyoongie)

Appreciation (@vminizzle)

Reaction: faking orgasms (@dreamescapeswriting)

Mean kitty, soft kitty (@purpleyoonn)

Best of us (@bts-trash-blog)

You belong (@imnotlauriane)

(If you have any recs pls share, especially for Hobi, Jin, & Rm :))

[sluttywoozi]

A New Rhythm | suga x f!reader x woozi

Yoongi has a soft spot for his protege, Jihoon, but you never thought it would extend to sharing you. Not until he tells you Jihoon is a virgin and asks if you'd like the be the one to change that.

You can't say you're opposed to the idea.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~7.8k | Pairing: myg x f!reader x ljh | Genre: smut

Warnings: dom!yoongi, virgin!jihoon, mentor!yoongi, yoongi tells jihoon what to do and jihoon listens like the good boy he is (most of the time), mentions of f. masturbation, oral f. rec., spitting, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, piv sex with a condom, restraining, throat holding, piv sex without a condom, oral m. rec., deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie, plsplspls inbox if i missed anything!

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, same age as yoongi, referred to with fem pronouns/descriptors (she/her, girlfriend), has an iud, wap

You think you’re losing your mind. 

That’s the only possible explanation as to why you’re hovering outside of Yoongi’s home studio at four in the morning, arguing with yourself about whether or not you should knock on the door. 

He’s been in there for hours, didn’t even come to bed last night, which might explain the plethora of dreams you had. They’re what woke you up, and the absence of Yoongi is what brought you out from under the warm covers and into the chilly night air. 

Yoongi’s studio is a small building in your backyard, with no windows and perfect acoustics. He had it built last year, when he finally got tired of going in and out of the city at all hours to work, and he even gave you free reign of the exterior. Now that the garden is blooming and the stones leading to the door have settled into the ground, it really feels like part of your home. 

Or it does in the daylight, anyway. 

You’ve never come out here at night before, because you’ve never had a need to. You know Yoongi will come inside when he’s finished working so you usually leave him to it, usually try not to interrupt him, but tonight, something is different. 

Tonight, you need him. 

Desperately. 

It’s not like he’s neglecting you, it’s just that he’s been working on a personal project so a lot of his time is spent in the studio, and when he finally calls it a day, all he wants to do is eat and collapse into your arms. You can take care of yourself, quite well, in fact, but nothing beats Yoongi’s touch, nothing. 

Every dream you had in your fitful five hours of rest was filled with him; his hands on your body, his mouth between your legs, his cock deep inside of you. It all felt hazy and rose-colored but somehow so real, and when you woke to an empty bed, it was almost heartbreaking. 

And it doesn’t help that it’s been ten days since he last fucked you, not that you’ve been counting…

You’d go back to bed if you could, but you already tried to satisfy your craving for him and all that did was leave you wet and wanting him even more, which is why you only feel a little bit guilty when your hand raises and raps twice on the wood in front of you. 

It takes a few seconds for the door to open, and when it does, your eyes grow wide and your fingers fly to the hem of your nightie, your suddenly freezing legs reminding you just how short it is. 

If it were Yoongi, you wouldn’t care, you’d probably even hike it up a little bit more, but it’s not Yoongi. 

It’s Jihoon, your boyfriend’s protege. 

“Um,” Jihoon starts, his eyes trailing over your exposed body before snapping back up to your face, a flush reddening the skin of his neck and ears. “Yoongi’s in the middle of a recording session so he didn’t hear the door. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah, um, everything’s fine,” you stammer, because what the hell else can you do?

It’s not like you can admit to someone who’s not your boyfriend that you’re dizzy with desire, especially not when that someone is your boyfriend’s adorable mentee. 

Jihoon is barely 27, but he’s been producing since he was in his teens. Yoongi kept an eye on his career for a while and eventually decided to take him under his wing when he noticed he wasn’t advancing in the field like he deserved to be. They’ve been working together for a little under a year now, and Jihoon has become a regular fixture at your house. 

You include him in your meals, in your game nights, and even in your karaoke, though he effortlessly outsings you both every single time. 

But that doesn’t mean you can tell him you’re here because you need to get fucked. 

If Yoongi were the one to answer the door, you wouldn’t have needed to speak, he would have seen that shine to your eyes and known immediately what you needed. You didn’t even know Jihoon was here or you wouldn’t have knocked at all. 

Now here you are staring at each other, Jihoon’s blush traveling down under his collar as you shiver in your nightdress, unable to think of even one viable explanation as to why you’re up at four in the morning. 

“Babe? What are you doing out there? It’s cold as fuck,” Yoongi appears behind Jihoon, his brows furrowed and his gaze bewildered. 

He takes one good look at you and that’s it. He knows. 

You can tell by the smirk that’s quirking one side of his mouth up and the heat that flashes in his tired eyes, the sight of both making you bite your lip and twist your fingers in the hem of your nightie. 

“We’re gonna take a break, Jihoon. Let’s all go up to the house for a bit, yeah?” Yoongi proposes, though you know it was more of an order than an offer. 

You turn mechanically and force one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the fact that you can feel two sets of eyes on you instead of one.

That’s the theme of the night, apparently, as you find yourself making tea for three, still clad in your pajamas. You would have gone to get a robe but Yoongi caught your hand before you left and asked for some oolong, saying that it’s never as good when he makes it. 

While the tea is steeping, you sit on Yoongi’s right side, Jihoon on his left, and try to keep from squirming at the feeling of the cold wooden chair against your hot center. You didn’t bother to put on underwear, sure that Yoongi would just fuck you right there in his studio, and you’re positive he would have, if Jihoon wasn’t there. 

But he was, he is, and you have no idea what Yoongi’s game is but you know it’s starting to make you feel a bit crazy, like your skin is too tight for your bones and your heart is too big for your chest. 

Then he speaks, and all the blood in your body reaches its boiling point. 

“Jihoon was just telling me that he feels like he can’t write sex into his songs because he’s never had it before. Why don’t we help him out with that?” 

Jihoon collapses into himself, groaning and cursing, his face buried in his arms where they rest on the table, his muscles strained with tension and his skin bright red. 

Yoongi just smiles serenely and looks over to you, raising an eyebrow and lifting his chin like he’s challenging you. 

You can’t respond yet, not with the ringing in your ears and the images in your mind, flashbulb memories of how long Jihoon’s fingers are and how voraciously he eats and, worst of all, how he looks when he comes over straight from the gym, his hair still damp from the shower and his veins still popping from the workout. 

All things you’ve thought about innocuously, no real intention behind them, now given life, meaning, by Yoongi’s words. 

You tilt your head at him, trying to figure out if this is a test, but you don’t see any hint of deception in his eyes. All you see is your boyfriend of four years, wanting to bring someone into the bed you share, wanting to teach someone what it means to give and take pleasure. 

No, not just someone, but Jihoon, specifically.

He has a soft spot for the kid and that’s obvious, but you never expected it to extend to sharing you. 

However, you’re not… opposed… to the idea. 

If anything, you feel yourself get just a bit hotter, just a bit wetter, imagining the both of them in your bedroom. 

You know Yoongi can tell how you’re feeling, you’ve never been able to hide a thing from him, and when that satisfied smile stretches his lips, you give up and give in. 

“What are your rules?” You ask softly, your eyes darting to Jihoon when he snaps his head up and stares at you, wide eyed and open mouthed. 

“He has to wear a condom,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, before continuing, “Other than that, I have none. What about you?” 

You didn’t expect him to turn the question around on you, but you’re grateful he did. 

“Same as you,” you respond, before looking to Jihoon. “What are your thoughts?” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and Yoongi, before he answers, “I - I don’t know. I’m embarrassed, and a little bit annoyed,” he levels a glare at Yoongi. “But I’m… I mean if you’re okay with it, then… then yes, I want this. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll do whatever.” 

Yoongi doesn’t even pretend to care about the tea. 

He just rises from his chair and extends a hand toward you, waiting for you to take it before nodding at Jihoon, expecting you to reach out to him. You hold your hand out and he grasps it, your fingers intertwining as Yoongi pulls you to the stairs. In between them, you carefully move up the steps, feeling somewhat like you’re on your way to the place of no return. 

You know you can stop this at any time, but you fear you won’t want to. 

You fear that once you get a taste of Jihoon, of both of them together, that’s all you’ll want. 

Yoongi must know, he knows everything about you, and if he wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t have offered. So when you cross over the threshold and he lets go of your hand to sit in the chair occupying the corner of your room, you know that he must be anticipating that outcome, and you know that he must be alright with it. 

Which makes it easier to turn to Jihoon and cup his cheeks to draw him into a kiss, one that makes him gasp against your lips before he drops a hand to your hip and starts to kiss you back. 

He seems experienced enough at this, you think, his plush mouth soft against yours and his tongue tentative where it brushes along the seam of your lips. You open up for him with ease, swallowing his sounds and responding with your own soft hums to show him you’re comfortable. 

Your tongue glides against his and he moans, sucking at it with gentle pulses that make your core throb, before you pull away and press a hand to his chest to stop him from following you. 

“Let’s move to the bed?” You suggest, perhaps because your knees feel the slightest bit weak but mainly because you’ve been desperate to get Yoongi’s body on top of yours all night. Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, but you think he’ll feel almost as good. 

Jihoon nods, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing, waiting for you to climb up and get comfortable before setting a knee on the covers. 

“Take your clothes off,” Yoongi calls out from the corner. “She probably wants to see you.” 

Jihoon glances over and then looks at you, raising a brow. You shrug shyly and nod, your eyes lowering to his chest as he starts to pull his sweater up. More and more pale skin is revealed, and by the time the fabric clears his head, your gaze is locked on the defining lines of his abdominals. He unties his sweats and pushes them down, stepping out of the cotton and standing before you in just his boxer briefs. 

His dick is hard, pressing against the fabric, but you don’t have long to look before he settles on top of you, his elbows bracketing your head and his knees straddling your thighs. His lips find yours again and soon enough, you’re lost in him. He kisses you so attentively, adjusting to your every move, your every breath. It’s not long before you’re squirming beneath him, wanting for more. 

“You’re gonna eat her out next,” Yoongi instructs, his voice distant but consuming, echoing in your mind like a looped track. 

Jihoon breaks away from you, his eyes heavy lidded and his lips kiss-swollen. He sits back on his knees when you shift up onto your elbows, giving you room to pull your nightie up and off, leaving you bare from head to toe. 

His eyes traverse the whole of your body, lingering on your breasts before they land between your thighs, his stare weighty, nearly tangible on you. The thought that you might be the first woman he’s seen naked in person is a heady one, enough to give you the confidence to slide your legs out from between his and spread them on the bed, showing him exactly what he’ll be working with. 

His breaths come faster as he gazes at you, slowly moving down to lay on his stomach between your legs, his mouth just inches from your pussy when Yoongi says, “Spit on it.”

“What?” Jihoon questions, turning back to stare at Yoongi in confusion, missing the way you squirm at Yoongi’s instruction. 

“You heard me, spit on it. She’s into it.”

“I- No, I’m not gonna fuckin- I’m not spitting on her, that’s ru-”

“Fine, if you won’t, I will,” Yoongi rolls his eyes and rises from his seat, taking a few steps to the bed and pushing at Jihoon’s shoulder when he doesn’t move out of the way.

Yoongi braces his hands on your knees and shoves them further apart, his eyes coasting up your body before they land on yours, a wry smile stretching his lips before he purses them and spits on your pussy. His saliva trails over your clit and down to your entrance, making you gasp and making your cunt clench, your hand shooting down to weave into his hair when he starts to pull back. 

“See? Told you,” he murmurs to Jihoon, grasping your wrist and waiting for you to release his hair before stepping away and returning to his chair in the corner. 

Your eyes find Jihoon, who looks like he’s been struck. He shakes it off and fills the space between your legs again, flat on his belly with a determined glint to his eye. You can feel his breaths as his mouth gets closer and closer to you, before finally, his tongue drags over you from cunt to clit. 

He takes his time learning you, sucking at your folds and dipping into your entrance, never staying in one place for long. He’s making little sounds like he loves the taste of you, the vibrations traveling through your pussy straight to your buzzing brain, straight to the part of you that yearns to be set free. 

You long to sink your fingers into his hair and drag him where you want him, take your pleasure from him like he’s a toy, but you know this is a precarious situation, and you’re not going to be the one that tips it out of balance. 

So you let him explore, let him figure it out on his own, setting aside the fact that you’ve been aching for hours already. This is Jihoon’s first time, you can stand to not be greedy for once in your life. 

Yoongi seems to disagree, telling Jihoon, “Find her clit and suck it, or she’ll never cum.”

You would glare at him for rushing Jihoon, you really would, but then Jihoon listens, his mouth searching until he discovers that bundle of nerves and wraps his lips around it, giving experimental sucks that quickly have your back arching and your toes curling. 

“Y-you can, um, put a fing-,” You try to speak but can’t seem to get the words out, not when Jihoon’s mouth is so soft and wet and his tongue is so agile from years of playing the clarinet, the tip lapping at your clit in between pulses of his lips. 

“Baby, I’ll tell him what to do, you just lay back and enjoy, okay?” Yoongi says in a soothing tone, making your eyes flicker open so you can see him. You know he wants you to answer him so you force your head to move up and down in a nod, melting into the bed when he sends you that indulgent, proud little smile. 

“Jihoon, start with two fingers, she likes to feel full. Palm up,” Yoongi instructs Jihoon, his voice more distant, less affectionate now that he’s not talking to you.

Jihoon’s fingertips glide through your arousal, dipping into your entrance and starting to push inside. You’re still a bit stretched out from taking care of yourself earlier so there’s barely any resistance, his fingers sinking in slowly but surely. 

His tongue stutters against you, a weak groan escaping him as your cunt molds to his digits. You squeeze around them just to hear that sound again, biting back a grin when the next groan is louder. 

“Feels good, doesn’t she? Now imagine that around your cock,” Yoongi smirks smugly, his eyes caught on the blush rising up the back of Jihoon’s neck. “Gotta make her cum first.”

With renewed fervor, Jihoon sucks at your throbbing clit, his fingers twitching inside of you but not moving yet. 

“Now you’re gonna find her g-spot. Curl your fingers and tap until you feel a different texture, you’ll know you’ve got it when she gets wetter.” 

Ever the quick study, Jihoon puts Yoongi’s words to action, his fingers crooking and rubbing along your front wall in search of the patch that can make you gush. He encounters it soon enough, grazing the erogenous zone with his fingertips and tapping into it when you gasp and clench down. 

You do get wetter, just like Yoongi said, and you can’t help but move with Jihoon’s fingers as he starts to slide them in and out, the tips hooking into your sweet spot on every thrust. You should have expected him to have perfect rhythm and lithe, talented fingers just like Yoongi does, because maybe then it wouldn’t be a surprise when you feel the stirrings of heat deep in your belly. 

Would it be embarrassing to cum so soon? Yoongi can get you there in five minutes flat but this is Jihoon, should you try to hold out for longer so he has more time to practice? What if he’s disappointed that you-

“Baby, stop worrying. Just cum when you want to,” Yoongi says softly, and not for the first time, you feel blessed to have a partner who knows you inside and out. 

You don’t need his permission to cum but now that you have it, you can feel your climax building even faster, feel it growing, glowing inside of you as Jihoon moans into your pussy, as if he’s echoing Yoongi’s words. 

That and the flawless grind of his fingertips into your g-spot are what throw you over the edge, darkness eclipsing your vision as you tumble into a pleasure so deep, you can feel it in your bones. 

It races through your bloodstream, electric and razor sharp, setting all of your nerves on edge and stealing every molecule of air in your lungs. You gasp through it, clenching your fingers in the pillow beneath your head so you don’t reach down, tangle them in his hair, and hold him to you until he’s as breathless as you are. 

You think you could cum again if he just keeps his tongue curled around your clit and his fingers digging into your g-spot like this. Hell, you’d probably cum even harder, get even wetter for him, even hotter. 

It’s so close you can almost taste it, but he starts to pull away and you swallow down the cry of protest that rises in your throat, fighting off disappointment that you fear you don’t have a right to. Yoongi likes to go for more than one but Jihoon isn’t Yoongi, and you can’t expect him to behave the same way. 

Yoongi does, evidently, because he says as if it should be obvious, “Keep going.” 

“What? She already-”

“She can cum again, keep going.” 

When Jihoon looks up at you for confirmation, Yoongi heaves a beleaguered sigh and ambles to the bed, placing a knee on the mattress for stability before leaning over Jihoon’s shoulder and gripping the back of his neck, pushing and holding him down. 

Jihoon is more than strong enough to break free if he wants to, which makes it even sweeter when he closes his eyes and dives back into you, one of his hands scooping under your thigh to pull it up onto his shoulder. Now you’re the one holding him down, and Yoongi’s lips stretch in a satisfied smile, like Jihoon has finally done something to be proud of, before he loosens his grasp and returns to his chair. 

You’ve lost some momentum in the seconds without stimulation, but you can’t escape the image of your boyfriend shoving his protege’s face into your cunt and that’s almost enough to get you right back where you were. 

It helps that Jihoon seems to be insatiable now, though whether he’s desperate for you or desperate to prove himself to Yoongi, you don’t know. It doesn’t really matter either way, not with his lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue digging up under the hood to lap directly at the nerves. His fingers join in too, fucking into you harder and faster, beckoning out enough arousal that you can feel it dripping down your perineum. 

The sounds are obscene, the wet suction of his mouth and the squelching of his fingers bringing heat to your cheeks. You wonder if Jihoon can hear or if your thighs are muffling the noises, part of you hoping they are and most of you hoping they aren’t. 

You want him to hear what he’s doing to you, want him to know that he’s pleasing you, that his efforts are appreciated, which is why you finally decide to stop holding back. 

Your hands skate down your body and delve into his hair, pulling his face even deeper into your pussy as you whimper long and loud. “There she is,” Yoongi murmurs, barely audible with your voice ringing in the air. 

Jihoon groans earnestly in response, his hips twitching against the bed and his fingers spasming inside of you before they stop fucking in and out and instead start prodding your g-spot, rubbing and tapping and grinding until you lock down around them, cumming with a gush and a shout. 

He doesn’t stop this time, relentless in the pursuit of pulling every last bit of bliss out of you as if he’s learned his lesson. Yoongi always says that Jihoon takes direction well, and you’re honored to experience the evidence of it yourself. 

Honored and dizzy, if you’re being truthful. 

Your head spins, your pussy growing sensitive and your pleasure growing sharp, almost stinging as he continues to batter your front wall with his fingertips and stab his tongue into your overworked clit. 

“Jihoon,” you whine brokenly, drawing out his name and gripping his hair tighter, unsure of whether you want to push him away or pull him closer. 

“Don’t stop,” Yoongi calls out, but it sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe you are, every noise in the room muted and dull compared to the roaring in your ears, the rushing of your blood in your veins as your heart races in your chest. 

“Maybe you’ll make her-”

Time slows down when Jihoon grunts his assent into you, the vibration just enough to send you spiraling into a euphoria so acute, it brings tears to your eyes. Your vision whites out and you think you scream, and then you’re levitating, no longer on the bed, perhaps not even on the planet anymore. 

When your soul returns to your body and you blink your watery eyes open, the first thing you see is Jihoon. He’s still between your legs but now he’s bright red, his chest heaving as he fights to breathe, your arousal covering him from his cheeks down to his sternum. 

You would feel nervous about his reaction but as soon as your eyes meet his, he’s climbing up over you and pressing his swollen lips to yours, his kiss ravenous and his tongue soaked with you. 

When he pulls away, you’ve got your own essence smeared all over your mouth, and you’re not even startled to feel a familiar hand in your hair. The hand tugs your head to the side and you let your eyes flutter closed, anticipating the swipe of Yoongi’s tongue over your bottom lip. He loves how you taste, even if it’s not directly from the source. 

You can feel Jihoon’s eyes on you as Yoongi licks your face clean, and you wonder if he thinks he’s going to get the same treatment. 

He might, honestly. 

But not tonight, it seems, as Yoongi smacks a kiss onto your lips and lets go of your hair, reaching in the bedside table for the condoms you haven’t used since you got your IUD placed a few months ago. 

“You didn’t blow your load, right?” Yoongi glances at Jihoon, raising an eyebrow teasingly and laughing at the way Jihoon glares and says, “No, I’m still fucking hard, thanks for asking.”

Out of loyalty to your boyfriend, you won’t point out that Yoongi actually did blow his load the first time he ever made you squirt. 

“You still up for it, baby? Not too sore or sleepy?” Yoongi crouches next to you and cups your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone and gazing at you with gentle, patient eyes. 

“I’m still up for it,” you smile peacefully, watching as he hands Jihoon the condom and taking the opportunity to stretch, reaching your arms up above your head and pointing your toes, a soft keening sound leaving you as you relax into the bed again. 

When your eyes find Jihoon and Yoongi, both of them are staring at your tits, a dazed look on their faces that makes them appear even more alike. 

Yoongi snaps out of it first, blinking rapidly and readjusting in the chair, making you notice for the first time just how hard he is. 

You knew he’d have to be into the idea of watching you fuck someone else to propose this in the first place, but you didn’t expect him to be so wrought with desire. You can see it on his face now that you’re really looking at him, the passion in his shadowed eyes and the lustful clench of his jaw giving him away. 

You bite back a smile and turn your gaze to Jihoon just in time to watch as he slides off the bed and pushes his underwear down. His cock pops up then hangs heavily, the head blushed red and the length wrapped in veins. He’s similar in size to Yoongi, maybe a bit thicker and slightly shorter, and you’re relieved to know both that the condom will fit and that he won’t stretch you beyond your limits. 

Finally, you look at his face again, only to find him staring at you, his eyes staying locked with yours as he brings the condom packet up to his mouth and tears it open with his teeth. At first, you think he’s trying (and succeeding) to be sexy, but then you realize his hands are trembling, just a little, just enough to relay the nerves he’s kept hidden. 

“I’ll put it on,” you tell him as you extend a hand and wait for him to drop the condom in your palm, beckoning him forward with your other hand until he climbs back up on the bed and settles on his knees in front of you. 

Slowly, you reach out and take hold of his cock, not reacting to the stilted gasp and muted swear that escapes Jihoon though you want to coo and kiss his cheek, he’s so adorable. You pinch the tip and roll the condom on with ease, ensuring it’s snug at the base before giving his hip a squeeze and laying back. 

He follows you and braces his hands on either side of your head, his eyes heavy lidded and his cheeks flushed as he leans down to kiss you. His cock drags over your thigh before you spread your legs and hitch them up on his hips, one of your hands snaking between your bodies to position him at your entrance. 

Jihoon takes in a deep, shuddering breath before beginning to push forward, his eyelids fluttering and his mouth dropping open as he feels the heat of you around his cock for the first time. The condom is a foreign sensation after all these weeks of taking Yoongi bare, and the fact that it’s Jihoon inside you instead of him is even more odd, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. 

Because it does, he does, especially when you remember that it’s been ten days since you had anything but a vibrator. Jihoon is warm, and thick, and real, and best of all, he’s holding back whimpers, his eyes closed and his face screwed up in pleasure, his hips jerking into yours in little thrusts like he can’t bear to keep still. 

When he bottoms out, he collapses to his elbows, leaving his chest pressed against yours and his face just inches away, every microscopic change in his expression obvious to you with him so close. 

You can tell he’s steeling himself to pull out, his jaw clenching and his brow furrowing as he draws his hips back slowly, his cock leaving the warm clutch of your pussy until only the head remains. You don’t even think he’s breathing, his cheeks turning red and his face growing pained, like it feels so good, it hurts. 

He slides back in and you make the mistake of squeezing down, and that’s when he stutters, “F-fuck, I can’t- ‘m sorry, I’m gonna fucking-”

His cock jerks and twitches and there’s a muted burst of warmth inside of you, one that’s contained in rubber as he tips into the abyss, his forehead dropping down to rest on your collarbone and his body shaking on top of yours. 

His gasps sound more like sobs, his beautiful, diminutive cries of pleasure making you flutter around him, prolonging his orgasm until he’s hissing through clenched teeth and digging his hips into yours as if in retribution. 

He starts to soften inside of you and you’re content to let him rest and recuperate, but Yoongi has other ideas. 

“Get up,” he commands, making your eyes flick over to him, a glower overtaking your face when he repeats himself. “Jihoon, get up.”

Jihoon reaches down and grips the base of his cock as he withdraws from you, holding the condom in place and cringing when he fully leaves your pussy. He slips the condom off and ties a clumsy knot, tossing it in the waste basket that sits under Yoongi’s bedside table before shuffling off the bed. 

He doesn’t look at you, and you wonder if he’s too embarrassed or if he thinks he’ll be met with disappointment. Maybe both, and Yoongi certainly isn’t helping the situation. You don’t know what he’s playing at, rushing Jihoon like this, being so harsh when Jihoon’s at his most vulnerable, but you don’t care for it. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur lowly, a warning in your voice. 

“Baby, I’m not doing this to be mean. I just want him to learn,” Yoongi placates you, rising from the chair and pointing at it. He waits for Jihoon to take a seat before making his way toward you, gripping the back of his shirt to haul it off as he walks. He sheds his sweats next, his boxers dropping with them, and when you set your eyes on his cock, they almost bulge out of your head. 

You think this is the hardest you’ve ever seen him, his dick a purplish rose and his balls heavy, full. You’re speechless, wide eyed, as he climbs onto the bed and reaches for your legs. He arranges you how he wants, planting his hands on the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your body until he can get his shoulders under your knees. 

One hand settles next to your head for balance and the other grips his cock, lightly smacking your pussy with it, the weeping head landing right on your swollen clit. You squirm and gasp at the feeling, your entrance clenching around nothing, pushing out more of your arousal to drip down your ass onto the bed. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until you’re whimpering and clawing at him, ready to beg him to just fucking put it in already, and that’s when he guides his cock into place and slides home. 

You and Yoongi moan in unison, yours more high pitched than his though both ring with relief. 

Him and Jihoon don’t feel all that different but Yoongi is familiar, Yoongi is loved, Yoongi is yours,  and that heightens every sensation. He stays buried in you, his gaze locked with yours, possession burning in his eyes like a wildfire. 

You’re sure it’s because he gets to feel you bare and Jihoon doesn’t, and you wonder if he’s staying still for so long because he wants you to remember who you belong with. Then you feel him twitch inside of you and notice the tension on his face, and you know that’s not the case at all. 

It’s that he’s inches away from doing exactly what Jihoon did, except he doesn’t have the excuse of being a virgin. 

Yoongi hasn’t cum early in years, has practically become a paragon of self-control and patience, lasting long enough to get you there twice even when you first did away with the condoms. You’re almost gleeful to discover he’s so close to the edge right now, and you’re about to clamp down around him and push him even closer when his eyes harden and he mutters, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

And you try to listen, you really, really do, but you just can’t help the way your pussy responds to him, especially when he uses that voice on you. 

So truly, it’s not even your fault when your walls swallow around his cock and suck him in deeper, the ragged groan he lets out only making you clench down more. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you whisper faintly, taking a deep breath and attempting to relax your inner muscles as he starts to pull out. “Don’t go,” you whimper, clinging to whatever skin you can reach, one hand wrapping around the wrist next to your head and the other flying down to grasp his hip.

You’re not strong enough to hold him in place, so you know it’s of his own volition when he stops moving, your cunt squeezing around what’s still inside, your whole body begging him not to leave. 

He leans in close and narrows his eyes at you, probably trying to see if you’re playing some kind of trick on him, but you know there’s nothing in your gaze but a frantic wish to keep him inside, to finally feel him fuck you like you’ve needed for the last ten days. 

His face softens into something fond and he murmurs, “Gonna give you what you need, baby.”

Then, with his eyes still on yours, he calls out, “Jihoon, c’mere.”

You hear him padding over to the bed, and you’re sure he’s just as confused as you are at his sudden involvement. Yoongi straightens up, breaking free of your hold and sitting back on his knees before gripping your hips tightly and pulling your ass into his lap, filling you with his cock and making space at the head of the bed in one rough move. 

“Get on the bed, grab her hands,” Yoongi tells Jihoon, his stern voice leaving no room for questioning. 

It seems Jihoon has learned his lesson by now, obeying Yoongi quickly and carefully, sliding into place behind you with his legs spread under your shoulders. His hands reach for yours and you offer them with only a little apprehension, gasping when he lifts your upper body enough for your head to rest on his thigh, your hands held against his toned stomach. 

“Comfy, babe?” Yoongi asks you, waiting for you to nod before drawing his hips back until only the tip rests inside of you. He shoves forward, his pelvis smacking into your ass, a slick squelch sounding when he bottoms out. 

He doesn’t give you any time to get used to it, every thrust that follows just as deep, just as vicious. 

The rhythm of his cock slamming into you overtakes your heartbeat, your cunt throbbing and drooling around him as he rams into you, forcing your wetness out of your pussy and your thoughts out of your head. 

Soon enough, you’re mindless with pleasure and writhing in their laps, arching into and away from the wicked bucking of Yoongi’s hips, his cock plunging into you so fast and so hard, you aren’t sure you’ll survive. 

You can’t stop crying either, whining and blubbering nonsense words intercut with your boyfriend’s name, pleading for him to keep going because you’ll die if he stops but also he might kill you if he doesn’t. 

“You can take it, baby,” Yoongi breathlessly assures you, his eyes lighting up with a devilish idea. “Maybe you just need something to focus on. Turn your head.” 

Maybe he’s right, maybe you do just need to devote what little brain power you have left to something, so you turn your head and there it is, Jihoon’s bright red, rock hard cock. 

With a desirous moan, you lean forward and drag your tongue up the side of his shaft, following one of the veins that winds around his dick like a vine. He chokes out a groan, his hands holding yours tighter when you tilt your head back and whimper, “Jihoon, please, put it in my mouth.”

There are tears streaming down your cheeks as you part your lips, laying your tongue out to entice him more. Yoongi is still fucking you, hasn’t let up for even a second, and you can feel his eyes on you as Jihoon transfers your hands to one of his and grips the base of his dick, pointing it in your direction and slowly feeding it into your mouth. 

The angle is awkward but you can work with it, letting out a garbled ‘thank you’ and consciously relaxing your throat so he can slide deeper inside. 

“That’s my girl, such nice manners,” Yoongi coos with a slight tone of condescension, watching as you swallow around Jihoon’s cock and fight not to choke. 

“Wanna feel something amazing?” Yoongi asks Jihoon, who mutters doubtfully, “Something better than this?” and then he must nod because Yoongi says, “Put your hand on her throat. You can squeeze a little.”

Both of your hands are still gathered up in one of Jihoon’s, and you feel his free hand tentatively wrap around your neck, making you whine around him and clench around Yoongi. 

“Fuck, is that my-” An avid groan cuts him off, his fingers spasming on your throat, though they don’t tighten to the point of pain. 

A trickle of precum slides down your esophagus and you swallow again, your throat working around his thick cock, taking in another inch. You’re almost at the root now, close enough for your chin to brush his balls, and you’re about to get the last little bit inside when Yoongi scoops his hips on a stroke out and grinds right over your g-spot. 

You squeak and jerk between them, your back arching as he starts to aim every single thrust there, battering the patch of nerves until you think you’ll cum just from this, just from his dick inside of you. 

Then you feel his hand work itself between your thighs, his fingers cruel and exacting on your clit, and you have to pull off of Jihoon to gasp for air as an orgasm tears through you like a tornado, your pleasure wild, furious, devastating. 

He doesn’t let up for even a minute, fucking you through it and leaning down over you to sink a hand into your hair, guiding your mouth back to Jihoon’s cock. 

“Make him cum, baby.”

You bury him in your mouth again, nuzzling down until your nose brushes his skin and his cock fills your throat. He twitches and leaks, and you just know he’s close, but you don’t have the right angle to bob your head up and down, to give him any friction. All you can do is swallow and moan plaintively and hope it’ll be enough to carry him over the edge. 

Your teary eyes flicker up and lock with his, and that’s what does it. His face crumples and a strangled moan forces its way out of his mouth as his cum shoots down your throat, his cock twitching, pulsing, throbbing between your lips. His grasp on your hands is so tight, it almost hurts, but the fingers on your neck never grip harder, never constrict to the point of suffocation. 

Your throat convulses around him and he pulls out with a wounded sound, probably too sensitive to stay in the wet heat of your mouth any longer. His hand pets your neck and glides up to your face, wiping your tears away and cupping your cheek as Yoongi’s fingers start to swirl between your legs again. 

You don’t know if you have another release left in you, but if you do, Yoongi will draw it out, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face. He’s mean that way, but so nice too, and now that all you have to focus on is the feeling of him surging in and out of you, the spark of painful bliss is familiar. 

It reminds you that you’ve survived him before, and that this time won’t be any different even if you don’t feel like the same person after. 

Yoongi fucks you like he’s remaking you in the shape of him, like he wants to take you down to your nuts and bolts then build you back up in a new form, one that bears his signature. It’s raw and rough and filthy, but beautiful too, which is always how he leaves you feeling when he’s had his way with you. 

That’s the last thought you have before he sweeps all of them up and away with one final circle of his fingers on your sensitive, swollen clit. 

Euphoria and agony battle within you, your climax excruciating but rapturous, sending you into a spiral of warring sensations that have you near delirious until finally, finally, finally, Yoongi lets himself break. 

You whimper at the feeling of his cock hardening and twitching in your spent pussy but his cum flowing into you is a balm, soaking your delicate, tender walls with a warm wash of white. You breathe through the sting of overstimulation, your eyes watering again and your body shuddering between Jihoon and Yoongi. 

Sometimes Yoongi stays inside after but you think he can tell you’re too wrung out, so he carefully slides out of you and lowers your legs from his shoulders, his palms gliding up and down your thighs in a soothing manner. 

“Jihoon,” he says softly, his eyes still on you. “Go through that door and grab a washcloth from the closet, the softest one you can find. Get it wet with some warm water and bring it here.”

Jihoon is quick to follow Yoongi’s instruction, supporting your neck as he slips out from under you and brushing a thumb over your cheekbone before he leaves. 

You hear the opening and closing of a door, then running water, then the quiet padding of feet on hardwoods. Your eyes have fluttered closed but you’re not surprised when you feel gentle hands cleaning you up, dabbing the washcloth between your legs, mindful of your sensitivity. 

They fly open when you hear Yoongi say, “You can stay in the guestroom, if you want. It’s clean and ready for you.”

“You can stay in the guestroom, Jihoon is staying right here,” you assert, reaching blindly for him and clinging to his hand when you find it. 

The time after losing your virginity can be fraught with emotion, and you’re not going to make Jihoon go through that alone. You also happen to feel unbearably fond of him now, and you’re itching to give him the affection he deserves after listening to Yoongi so well. 

Yoongi just holds his hands up in surrender, muttering, “You’re middle spoon, then.”

As if that’s some kind of hardship. 

Yoongi pulls two pairs of pajamas and a big t-shirt out of his drawer, passing one set over to Jihoon before walking over to you and carefully pulling the t-shirt over your head. He reaches into the arm holes and pulls your arms through like you can’t do it yourself, and you’d tease him if you didn’t feel so exhausted, you could pass out. 

You have to get up so Yoongi can strip the comforter off the bed, and instead of putting it in the wash like he should, he just tosses it to the floor and grabs the backup from the closet. He waits for you to get under the sheets before throwing it over you, letting it float down to cover the bed and climbing in behind you. 

Clothed in his borrowed pajamas, Jihoon awkwardly hovers by the side of the bed, looking unsure. You turn down his side of the comforter and reach a tired hand out, sighing contentedly when he blushes, smiles, and slides in, snuggling up against you. 

Yoongi’s arm wraps around your waist and yours wraps around Jihoon’s, and the three of you sink into sleep easily, comfortably, warmly, even as the sun rises and seeps through the edges of your blackout curtains. 

They’re making breakfast together and chatting about music when you limp downstairs, fresh out of the shower and starving out of your mind. You wonder if it will be awkward, but then Yoongi presses a kiss to your cheek and raises a brow at Jihoon, clapping him on the shoulder when he does the same, and that's how you know things will be just fine.

AN: would not exist without @bbychocolat jokingly saying "woozi yoongi threesome" and the help of @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wooahaeproductions and @daechwitatamic! thank you all for sharing your yoongi expertise and holding my hand throughout this journey (and it was a journey)

i've never written yoongi before!! pls tell me your thoughts i am desperate to know 💖

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: Yoongi/Reader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 

Your voice wavered, what were you— 

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?” 

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar. 

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

[casuallyimagining]

Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days. 

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified. 

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…” 

I want to apologize. 

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise. 

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone. 

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering. 

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger. 

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up. 

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you? 

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left. 

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic. 

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees. 

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables. 

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too. 

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled. 

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors. 

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park. 

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died. 

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert. 

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism. 

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it. 

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him. 

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it���s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them. 

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know. 

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in. 

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday. 

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel. 

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand. 

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward. 

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue. 

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom. 

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

��Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick. 

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room. 

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty. 

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly. 

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter. 

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets. 

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see. 

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face. 

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading. 

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent. 

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.” 

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar. 

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you. 

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform. 

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you. 

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for. 

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting. 

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him. 

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?” 

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers. 

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause. 

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space. 

At least, you think you are. 

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable. 

Oh no. 

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again. 

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger. 

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest. 

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…” 

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed. 

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing. 

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand. 

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response. 

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy. 

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him.  “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible. 

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone. 

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh. 

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings. 

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful. 

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him. 

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch. 

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden. 

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring. 

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you. 

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms. 

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

[bteezxyewriter12]

How I See You/ 1

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 7k

Includes- Unconfident Yoongi, angst, cheating (don't do this), blow job, deepthroating, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, multiple orgasms, physical violence, blood

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @yeosayang @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

I watch Mia at the bar, flirting and smiling with some guy

Then I move my gaze to her boyfriend, Yoongi, who also happens to be my best friend

He's watching her with a sad expression from his seat at the table next to me

And I get so fucking angry

This girl has no idea what she has with Yoongi

He's the sweetest guy who does everything for her

She doesn't have to lift a finger, all she has to do is call him and he'll drop whatever he's doing to get to her or help her fix whatever problem she has

He's always so attentive, knowing when something's wrong with her immediately

He's like that with me too but we've been best friends since we were children so that's not so surprising that he knows me so well

But he got to know her that well too

He treats her like a princess, buying her whatever she wants, whenever she wants, spends an absorbent amount of time with her, cooks for her, does her laundry, takes her wherever she wants to go because she doesn't have a car

He looks like a fuck boy with his many tattoos, his lip ring and eyebrow ring but he's not

He's a one woman kind of guy

He's very shy and sensitive and is passionate in everything he does

He's the perfect boyfriend

And this idiot is hurting him by flirting with another guy

I honestly don't even know why she's looking at another guy when she has Yoongi

He's insanely gorgeous- long black hair he normally keeps in a ponytail, beautiful brown eyes, cute nose, perfect lips

His smile is stunning

He's short for a guy but still tall, is fit and his hands and fingers are a work of art

He is the entire package

And this bitch doesn't see that

I can't count the times I've seen her flirting with other guys and in front of him too

Like he's not there

Then she comes back and acts like nothing happened and he never brings anything up

Just once I'd like to see him confront her but he never will

He doesn't like confrontation and I think he thinks she'll break up with him if he says anything

I don't know what she says or does to him but lately it seems like he lost some confidence

He was never outgoing or braggy and he's even more introverted than normal

I've tried to talk about it with him but he shuts me down, saying everything is fine

I think her flirting is getting to him

Standing up, I make my way over to the bar

Not only is she flirting, she's keeping the rest of us waiting because she was the one going to the bar to get our drinks

I'm killing two birds with one stone

"Excuse me", I say, moving in-between her and the guy

"What are you doing Jo?", she asks and has the audacity to look confused

"We're tired of waiting so I'm getting our drinks", I answer

She blinks, "Oh sorry. I just got to talking to Jae and-"

"Yeah I know", I interrupt, glaring at her then at Jae, "And Yoongi knows too. You know, your boyfriend?"

Jae gets a surprised look on his face as he glances at Mia

"Oh he doesn't care", Mia says, "It's just conversation"

She is so very wrong

"Yeah well you were taking too long and I'm getting the drinks now, so you can go back to Yoongi"

She looks miffed but nods then heads back to the table

I look at Jae who says, "I didn't know she had a boyfriend"

"Fuck off", I snap, then turn to the bar to get the bartenders attention

When the drinks are finally made, I take them to the table

"Thanks Jo", Mia says to me, takes her drink then turns her attention back to my ex and date for tonight, Hongjoong

Hongjoong and I stayed friends after we broke up

When Yoongi asked me to come out with him and Mia, I asked if I could bring someone

No way did I want to be the third wheel

Yoongi said yes, I hit up all my friends and Hongjoong was the only one available

He's always up to go out, especially when he knows he's gonna get fucked at the end of the night

I sip my drink, Mia blatantly flirting with Hongjoong while holding onto Yoongi's hand

Hongjoong, for his part looks unamused and is totally not engaging in her flirting, instead reaching out and putting his arm around me, holding me against him like he's silently telling Mia that he's with me

I lean against him, laying my head on his shoulder but Mia either doesn't notice or doesn't care and just keeps flirting with him

Yoongi is just silently sitting there, his face blank and it enrages me

Mia doesn't know how lucky she is to be with Yoongi

She doesn't know how other girls wished he looked at them the way he looks at her

Notice them the way he notices her

She doesn't know how in love with him some girls are, how some would do anything for him, do anything to be with him

She has that and she doesn't even realize

She's a fucking idiot

And I hate her

--------------------------------

"Hey Yoongi", I greet, opening my apartment door for him to come in

He called me earlier asking to hang out and of course I said yes

It's not like I was doing anything anyway

"Hey Jo", he says, coming inside and I instantly know he's upset

Probably about Mia

Closing the door, we walk to the living room section of my studio apartment

"You want food? Drink?", I ask but he shakes his head

I shrug as we sitting on the couch

"Where's Mia? I thought you'd be with her on a Saturday night?"

His face falls

I knew it was because of her

"She's with her friends. They're having a girl's night at a club"

A club?

She went to a club without her boyfriend?

If it was anyone but Mia it wouldn't be a big deal but I know she's going to flirt and dance with other guys and he knows it to

She flirts it in front of Yoongi, I have no doubt she'll amp it up when he's not there

"And you're ok with that?", I ask, not bothering to hide my shock

He needs to realize what she's doing is shitty

"I can't do anything about it Jo. I can't tell her she can't go", he says softly

I mean he can say he's not happy about it, not pretend that everything is fine

"I'm....worried", he says lowly

I raise my eyebrow, surprised he's actually confiding in me

He used to all the time until he got with her

"About what Yoongi?"

"I offered to give her money for drinks at the club but she...she refused. She said she'll just flirt with guys to get them to buy her drinks"

My mouth drops at her fucking audacity

"She said that to you?"

He nods, "I..I'm worried she's going to go too far. I already know she's going to dance with guys"

I'm so pissed off and I can't hold back anymore

"Yoongi why are you putting up with that shit?", I ask, "She blatantly flirts with guys in front of you. She flirted with Hongjoong while holding your hand! Why don't you tell her to cut it out?"

"Because she'll leave me!", he exclaims, tears filling his eyes

I'm not going to lie, I'm surprised at the tears

He never cries

For anything

And he's going to cry over that skank?

"So what Yoongi? You deserve so much better than her!"

He shakes his head, a few tears escaping, "No other woman wants me"

I stare at him in complete disbelief, "What are you talking about?"

Why would he say such a dumbass thing like that?

"Jo, I'm thirty years old. Mia is the only one who has even looked at me as more than a one night stand in years. All women see me as a fuck boy. They sleep with me and then that's all it is. Mia is the only one who stayed. And she's younger than me, she wants to party and have fun. I can understand that"

"Bullshit", I snap

Yeah Mia is younger than us, 25, but not all twenty-five year olds are as disrespectful to their significant others like she is

"It doesn't matter if she's younger Yoongi. Her flirting is disrespectful to you and you shouldn't put up with it", I tell him, "There are other women who will see past your image and want to be with you. Ones who will respect you and treat you so much better"

He scoffs, "Where are they? I don't see anyone. At the bar the other night all the girls were looking at Hongjoong, not me"

I was looking at him but of course he'd never notice me

"The truth is no one wants to be with me long term. They don't want to bother getting to know me. And I get it, I'm shy, I'm introverted, I don't talk much at first. It would take awhile for me to warm up to someone and no one wants to waste their time. I'm lucky Mia wants to be with me"

I honestly can't believe he's saying this

It's so heartbreaking

"You're insane Yoongi", I say softly, "Any woman would be so lucky to have you"

"No they wouldn't", he says sadly

I can't handle him thinking this way about himself

He's just so wrong

"My god Yoongi, you don't know how others see you do you?", I say, "You are literally the entire package. You're so sweet, so loving. So attentive. So giving. You're willing to put your girlfriend first, do anything for her. Help in any way you can. Drop what you're doing and run to her side in seconds. You're so in tune with feelings that you know the instant something is wrong with someone and you try to comfort them. You're passionate in everything you do. You treat her like a queen. And you're absolutely beautiful. Your eyes are so deep and such a pretty brown. Your smile is so freaking amazing, so beautiful, it lights up any room"

I glance over at him to see him staring at me in utter shock

I tear my gaze away, my entire face heating up in embarrassment

But I'm fine with being embarrassed as long as he knows he is the perfect boyfriend

"So I know that other women could see the real you and would want to be with you. Don't sell yourself short"

It's silent for a few seconds and I hope he just changes the subject

"Do...do you really see me like that?", he asks softly

I close my eyes, putting my face in my hands, knowing I just outted myself

"Yeah, I really do", I answer, hoping he drops it now

I really don't know how I'm supposed to look him in the eyes anymore

I feel his hand touch mine, pulling them down from my face

I keep my head down, freaking out on the inside

He lifts my face to his, his brown eyes on mine, a look in them I can't read

The next thing I know, he's closer to me, his lips pressing against mine

My body instantly reacts, fireworks going off in my vision, fire running through my body, my head spinning

My arms wrap around his neck, his around my waist, pulling me closer until I'm against him

Somewhere in the back of my head, I know we shouldn't be doing this, I know that he's cheating on Mia

But I can't stop

He's finally kissing me and I can't stop

His tongue licks my lip and I open for it eagerly, his tongue against mine as soon as it slips in my mouth

I can't get enough of him, wishing I could have his kisses all the time

His fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, touching the skin on my lower back, sparks zipping up my spine

My fingers move into his hair, pulling out his ponytail then tangling in the soft silky strands

We continue kissing, bodies presses against each other and I have never been more content in my life

If all he wants is to kiss, I'll happily do it all night

After awhile, his hands travel up my back, pulling my shirt with it

I let him slide it up, moving my arms from around him to pull through the sleeves then reluctantly moving away from his lips so he can take it off

I look at him as I take his black shirt and move it up his body, waiting for him to tell me to stop

He doesn't, moving his arms through the sleeves too and letting me get it over his head

Throwing the shirt on the floor, I finally look at his body and get turned on even more than I already am

He's perfect

He's fit, no hard muscles cut into him but as soon as I touch his chest, I can feel the muscles, the strength under his smooth inked skin

His entire chest is tattooed, the bright colors swirling on his skin to make a beautiful image

The tattoo continues to his ribs where it tapers off but there is room to add more if he chooses

Spreading my hands I run them along his arms, both heavily tattooed in sleeves, again the colors so vibrant

Moving closer to him, I lay my hands on his back, running up the huge back tattoo he has there as well

As I trail my fingers up his back, his breathing increases and I lean forward, pressing kisses into his neck

He moans softly, the pretty sound making me so wet

He tilts his head slightly back, letting me kiss more of his neck, his skin so soft under my lips

Trailing my kisses down his neck, I keep kissing across his shoulder, his skin trembling

Lifting his arm, I kiss every inch of inked skin I can, trailing my fingers up and down his arm, my lips following in their wake

I can feel his eyes on me as I get to his wrists, kissing along the back of his hand, then on his tattooed fingers

Turning his hand over, I press kisses into his palm, then the tips of each of his fingers

I switch to his other hand, moving my eyes to his as I kiss him, awe swirling in his gaze

I continue my ascent up his other arm, kissing him, showing him that he's wanted

I get back to his neck, his body shivering as I press my lips into his skin

Finally, I press my lips against his and he immediately falls into it, his tongue against mine as his arms wrap around me

It feels so right being in his arms and I can't think about it too much because I know I will never have this again

I gently push him back as we kiss, him laying down and taking me with him, his warm, soft skin against mine

I drag kisses down to his jaw, then press kisses into his neck

Moving lower, I kiss down his body, my fingers following the path my lips made, his skin trembling against my fingers

As I press my lips to his lower stomach, I slide my fingers in his sweatpants waistband, waiting to see if he's going to take them out

When he doesn't, I get braver and push down his sweatpants

He surprises me by lifting his hips up, letting me get the pants completely off, leaving him in just his boxers with a visible tent where his dick is

I'm kinda blown away that I made him hard

But I guess it's because of kissing him

Just a reaction, nothing to make a huge deal about

I lift my gaze to his as I kiss his lower stomach again, slide my hand up his thigh and over his hard on

His breath catches, his brown eyes on mine as I touch him through his boxers

He feels huge and he's rock hard

Taking a chance, I move my lips to his dick, kissing him through the fabric of his boxers

Her groans, his eyes closing and I take that as a cue to keep going

Pulling his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, I stare at it in shock

It is massive, long and thick and so hard, cum leaking from his slit

Without thinking, I wrap my hand around his base and run my tongue over his head, tasting him

He gasps, his eyes opening and on me as my brain tries to comprehend how he can taste so good

Like how?

I've blown guys before and yeah it tastes alright but Yoongi's tastes really good

And I want more

My gaze locks with his as I run my tongue up his length, swirling around his head, licking up more cum

"Should I stop?", I ask

I want to suck his dick so much but I won't if he's uncomfortable

I never want to make him uncomfortable with anything

"No", he whispers

Without answering, I move my mouth around his head, sucking softly

"Fuck", he groans, his legs shaking

I move down his length an inch at a time, sucking long but soft and slow on him

His chest rises and falls rapidly as his breathing quickens, his brown eyes watching me, biting his lower lip

Pushing down more, his head hits my throat and I stop before I gag

I still have a few inches left to take but I need to get used to him first

Slowly, I bob my head, sliding up his cock, then going back down while moving my hands up and down the rest of him I haven't taken yet

"Fuck Jo", he moans, "Fuck, it's so good"

I smile around his dick, bobbing a few more times before I take a bit more of him

I continue to blow him like this, slowly taking more of him every few bobs, tears springing into my eyes the deeper he goes

It takes a little bit but I finally slide him all in my throat without gagging once

I'm proud of myself

I swallow on his huge dick, his moan so loud, his body shaking

Pulling back, I slide back up his length half way, then slowly go back down, feeling him open my throat and I'm surprised at how good that feels

I keep moving, going just slightly faster but still at a slow pace for a blow job

I just want him to feel everything

I want to please him

The next time I slide back down his length, his hips roll up, softly sliding him all the way in my throat

My gaze meets his and I nod, letting him know I'm good with what he's doing

As I move up his cock, he pulls out a little, then we move at the same time, slowly, his hips up, pushing his cock in while I move down taking him in

"Oh god", he whimpers, his hand sliding in my hair, fingers tangling in the strands, holding on

We move together seamlessly, him fucking into my throat gently while I deep throat him, his fingers tightening in my hair

"Baby", he moans, "Baby, so good baby"

His words make me happy that I can make him feel so good

The fact that I'm enjoying this too is just a plus

His whole body shakes as we keep going, his cock twitching in my throat

I'm so fucking excited to taste him again, to swallow his load

I don't know what's wrong with me but I assume I'm being such a slut because it's Yoongi

I doubt I'd be like this with anyone else

"I...I'm... I'm", he chokes out and I nod to let him know it's ok

Sinking down on his cock, his hips move up, his length going in deep

He holds me on his dick as his warm yummy cum spurts down my throat

"Fuck Joanne, oh fuck", he cries as I swallow and suck, eager to get it all as I watch him cum

My god, it's such a beautiful sight

The pleasure on his face makes him look so ethereal

When he finishes, he loosens his grip on my hair, his fingers sliding out, looking dazed as he breathes hard

I move off his dick, making sure I lick his slit for the rest of his cum

Sitting up, I swallow a few more times, the waistband of his boxers slipping back up

He sits up right away, startling me, a look I can't place in his eyes and I hope he's not going to say he regrets what happened

Although he probably will

It's cheating and once he's over the shock he'll probably be upset with himself and me for letting it happen

He doesn't say anything, instead shocking me as his hand moves back in my hair and he pulls me to him, his lips crashing into mine

I don't think, throwing my arms around his neck, kissing him back, my body so hot and electrified

He pulls me into his lap and the next thing I know, he's standing up, carrying me as he walks

He bumps into the walls a few times but no damage is done to either of us as he gets into my room

He sits on my bed with me in his lap, his hands on my back, undoing my bra, his lips never leaving mine

I reluctantly move my arms from his neck so he can get the bra off

His hands are immediately around my boobs, squeezing gently while his fingers play with my nipples

Pleasure zaps down to my already soaked cunt, a small moan escaping against his lips

I feel him smile into the kiss, his arms back around me as he turns us, laying me on the bed

His lips leave mine instead pressing right into my neck, a moan now leaving my mouth

"God, you sound so fucking pretty"

He peppers kisses all over my neck then starts going down to my collarbone and my chest

His hands are on another path, slowly running down my body, setting my skin alight with every touch of his fingers

His mouth moves around my nipple, sucking gently as his hands reach my pants, making my cunt so much more fucking wet, my body arching off the bed

"Yoongi", I cry as a moan comes from him

He switches to my other nipple, his tongue flying over it as he pulls my pants and panties down at the same time

He gets everything off, leaving me completely naked, his lips now travelling down my stomach, feeling so soft, so fucking good

When he gets to my lower stomach, he kisses everywhere as he opens my legs, pulling me down the bed as he kneels on the floor

He kisses lower and lower, the anticipation killing me

His tongue finally licks along my pussy and I let out the loudest pornographic moan I've ever had

Just that one touch has me seeing stars, feeling utterly good

His tongue licks over and over, up and down as he buries his face in my pussy, his tattooed fingers digging into my thighs as he holds me wide open

"So fucking good jagi", he groans, between licks, "So fucking sweet. God fucking damnit I love the way you taste"

My brain malfunctions as his words struggle to penetrate, the pleasure taking over

His tongue slides down, dipping into my hole, both of us moaning lewdly as my pussy clenches his tongue

His tongue leaves my cunt only to slide back in, deeper than before, my hips raising, pushing my cunt into his mouth more

As he tongue fucks my pussy, I plunge my hands in his hair, holding on and grinding my pussy against his face

"Yoongi", I cry, lost in the bliss he's providing

Lost in him

"Yes jagi", he groans, "Say my name baby. Fuck, wanna hear you say my name"

That will not be a problem whatsoever

"Yoongi", I moan, "Fuck baby, that tongue is so fucking good"

"Mmm", he murmurs, sliding up out of my hole and flicking my clit

"Fuck!", I scream, my whole body shaking

"Feels good?", he asks, his beautiful eyes meeting mine

I nod, panting hard

He licks my clit again, running his entire tongue over it, from the back to the tip

And repeats the same movements over and over, driving me insane and throwing me into pleasure I've never known before

Pleasure I know only Yoongi can give me

His mouth wraps around my clit, sucking long and hard, my thighs shaking around his head as I pull his hair and scream

"Yes baby, fuck", I yell, "Don't stop. Yoongi! Fuck!"

"Mm jagi", he murmurs, speeding up how fast he sucks

My entire body is in ecstasy, feeling like I'm going to explode

The next suck sends me head first into an explosive orgasm and I scream his name as ecstasy tsunamis over me

"Yoongi!", I scream, "Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!"

My vision turns white as pleasure wracks my body, Yoongi's talented mouth not stopping

He groans into my clit, the vibrations only adding to the bliss and running up my spine

It's so much, too much, just enough and not enough all at the same time

Yoongi slides his tongue down to my hole as I come down from my orgasm, licking up and moaning about how good I taste

"So sweet. Fuck"

When he's done, he moves on top of me, kissing me softly

Wrapping my arms around his body, I hold him tightly, trailing my fingers up and down his back

I swear I could kiss him forever

As we make out, I feel his dick becoming harder against my leg

Reaching down, I slide my hand in his boxers, wrapping around his semi hard length and move up and down

He breaks the kiss, his forehead against mine as he moans softly

He grows harder and harder in my hand with every stroke, his whimpers so fucking pretty

Increasing my speed, I get him fully hard but I don't stop, intending on making him cum again

His eyes close as his hand moves down, stopping mine and taking it out of his boxers

I'm immediately embarrassed and scolding myself for assuming he wanted more

Idiot

I'm about to apologize when he murmurs, "I want to be inside you"

My breath hitches, wondering, hoping I heard him right

His eyes open, looking into mine, "Can I be inside you?"

My god, I want that so much

I didn't think he'd actually want sex

I thought oral would have been enough

But he wants more and I'm going to give him whatever he wants

"Yes", I answer, lifting my head and kissing his soft lips while I push his boxers down

He moves off me to get them completely off and when he comes back, I sit up and taking his hand, I pull him down, moving him to his back as I climb in his lap

He doesn't need to do any work tonight

I want to show him how much he's wanted, how worth it he is

I want to make him feel good

Hovering over his cock, I move him to my hole and sink down on him

His body tenses as he whimpers, his cock so fucking big that I have to push down hard just to get the first inch in

He stretches my hole wider than I've ever been stretched before, making my cunt water like a faucet, shivers of pleasure running up my spine

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", I chant as I take one fat inch at a time, my pussy sucking him in, throbbing hard already

"Oh fuck, Jo, oh fuck", he cries, the pleasure on his face so fucking beautiful, his breathing escalating, his hands on my hips, pushing me down on him

He bottoms out with both of us yelling loudly, shivers taking over my body

We're a completely snug fit, no extra room, his head nestled against my spot

I know any rock on his cock will feel amazing

"Oh my fucking god, you're so tight", he groans, his eyes squeezing shut, "How..I can't...so good... Never been in a pussy this tight before. Fuck"

I smile to myself as I lean back on his legs and slide up his cock

His eyes shoot open and look down just as I descend down his length, watching my pussy take him

I stop right before I bottom him out, then surge down hard, letting his fat head crash into my spot, bliss shooting up my body

With that I start bouncing, getting a good pace going, throwing both of us into pleasure

His fingers dig into my hips as I move, his eyes slowly looking up my body, starting from my pussy, all the way up to my face

He bites his lip as he looks and for some reason I don't feel shy at all when normally I would

Yoongi just always made me feel comfortable around him and that hasn't changed because we're naked together

His fingers slide up my body so softly, slowly, his touch making my skin shiver, feeling so good as I bounce on him

Closing my eyes, I revel in his touch, riding him a bit harder, the drag of his cock going in and out of me so fucking incredible

His head hits my spot with every bounce down, spreading me open so wide, so pleasurably

I swear I've never had sex this good before

His hands move around my boobs, squeezing gently, his thumbs running over my nipples, sending pleasure straight down to my cunt

"Yoongi", I whimper, so close

"Cum for me", he whispers and that seals it

Dropping my hips down, I take him all in, moaning his name so loudly as pure ecstasy takes over my body

"Yoongi", I cry, my body shaking on top of him, my cunt clenching him over and over as I cum, his pretty moans reaching my ears

My god this has to be the best orgasm I ever experienced

Of course Yoongi is the one to give it to me

Of course

"Please ride me", he begs as I finish, "I need more"

I nod, leaning on his stomach, resuming my bounces

"Oh fuck", he moans, his head pushing back into the pillow as I take him inside me over and over, making sure I clench down on his cock as I do

He's so fucking big, I can feel every ridge, every fucking inch inside me

I'm so fucking wet, making it easier to take his big cock

As I move on him, I move my hands up his body slowly, reveling in how soft his sweaty skin is under my palms, the beautiful colors of his tattoos swirling together

I wish I could spend an entire night tracing the lines, kissing every tattoo, every part of his body

I wish I could love him like I want to, tell him how much I love him so he knows he's worth everything

So he knows someone wants him more than anything in this world

I can't so I have to settle for showing him this way, knowing he'll never understand how much he means to me

Pushing those thoughts away, I focus on him right now, on making him feel good

Taking his whole cock inside me, I rock on him, throbbing hard, sliding my hand to his cheek, stroking gently

His eyes open and he looks up at me through his wet hair, sweat glistening on his body

He is utterly ethereal

"Fuck Yoongi", I whisper, running my fingers in his hair as I grind on him, "You're so fucking beautiful"

His cheeks immediately blush as he sits up, pulling me right against him, his lips kissing mine

Falling into his kiss, I move my arms around his neck, sliding my fingers in the back of his hair, as I keep rocking my hips

His arm moves around me, holding me against him, our sweat mixing together

His free hand moves between us, his fingers against my clit, rubbing quickly

Pleasure surges through me as I moan in his mouth, grinding on him faster, his tongue pressed against mine

His fingers keep moving as I pulse around his fat cock, his head rubbing my spot

The pleasure is so intense and the next movements send me head first into another blissful orgasm

I kiss him harder, his fingers rubbing me through it as he swallows my moans

When I finish, his arms wrap around me, laying down, taking me with him

He kisses me as his hands slide down my back to my ass, gripping hard

He thrusts up into me, his cock forcing me open, his head hitting my spot so hard, stars blast in my vision from the sheer bliss

He moves faster, fucking into my pussy, going so deep inside me I can feel him in my stomach

Breaking the kiss, he moans loudly as I bury my face in his neck

"Feels so good", he moans, "So fucking good"

I moan into his neck at how utterly good he feels

"Small tight pussy", he murmurs, thrusting harder, his cock completely wrecking me, "So good. So wet for me"

"Mmm, only wet like this for you", I murmur

"Fuck", he groans, pumping faster, the sound of his cock plunging in my wet hole so loud and erotic

"So big Yoongi, fuck your cock is so big. Feels so good"

"Yeah, it's good enough for you?", he asks softly as he pants

"Perfect Yoongi", I tell him, "You're so perfect"

"Fuck", he whimpers, his hips not missing a single stroke as I clench down on his length again and again

His fingers press into my skin so hard I'm sure I'm going to have bruises and I'm more than fine with that

"I...I..where should I....fuck....", he groans

"Inside", I whine

"Are you sure?", he moans, bringing me right there, his cock throbbing so fast inside my pussy

"Yes!", I cry, falling over the edge, a typhoon of ecstasy crashing over me, "Cum inside me Yoongi!"

"Fuck!", he screams, slamming inside, his hot sticky cum exploding inside me, my pussy milking him for everything as we ride the pleasure together

"Joanne, oh fuck", he cries, "Yes, yes fuck"

"Yes Yoongi", I whimper, watching the gorgeous sight of him orgasming as he moans my name

I wish I could see this all the time, he's so fucking beautiful it's stupid

Little by little the pleasure fades, leaving both of us breathless

I slide off him, laying next to him, trying to catch my breath

His eyes are closed, his chest rising, his hair soaked in sweat

He's never looked so good

After a few minutes, his eyes open, he looks over at me and whispers, "Shit"

Dread is filling my body and my heart hurts as I wait for what I know is coming

He sits up and I follow suit, grabbing my blanket and covering myself

Almost like it's armor for what's coming

"We shouldn't have done this", he says softly

I knew it

"I don't cheat. I never cheated. I don't know why I....we shouldn't have"

Tears fill my eyes but I hold them back

I won't cry in front of him, not over sex he regrets

"We should have stopped. After the first kiss we should have stopped"

I just nod slowly, "I'm sorry"

I knew he would regret it

Deep down I knew that

He's all about Mia, he puts up with her flirting, he wants her

I was a mistake

I don't regret it but that's because I'm in love with him

I didn't mean for him to cheat on Mia, it's just...when he kissed me everything left my mind except for him

I wasn't thinking about anything but him, how he felt, wanting to make him feel good

I should of thought and stopped it

Because I rather have not had him at all instead of him regretting being with me

"I need to go", he says, getting up

"Ok", I whisper

I stay rooted in my bed as he gets his boxers on

He leaves my room and I hear him moving in the living room, probably getting dressed

I hear his footsteps then my front door opening and closing

He left

He didn't say goodbye, didn't say anything

Just left

The tears pool in my eyes as I get up

Leaving my room, I lock my front door then go to the bathroom and clean up

I breathe in, trying to calm myself down while I get PJs on

Crawling back into bed, I pull the covers over me as I lay down, holding onto one of my pillows

And I finally break, sobbing into my pillow, the pain of my heart breaking intense

I'm terrified I lost Yoongi completely, lost his friendship

We've been by each other's side since we were kids, I don't know how to be without him

It wasn't worth it if I lose him

I was so happy in the beginning of the night when he kissed me and now I'm miserable

And I wish it never happened

--------------------------------

One month later

Parking my car, I get out and head towards Yoongi's house

I haven't heard from him since the night we were together

I tried calling him, tried texting him for a month

I sent apology message after apology message through text and voicemails

Asking if we could talk

Then telling him that we can pretend it didn't happen

Then begging him to just call me back, just send me one message

Just let me know he's ok

Nothing

This is the last resort

I know I most likely lost him but I need to know for sure

If I have to try to get over him, I need to know for sure that our friendship is over

This is the only way

As I get closer to his door, I hear arguing and a girl's voice yelling but I can't make out what's being said

I'm not sure if it's a real argument or one from a movie or TV show

If it's a real argument with him and Mia, I'll leave

Going up the three stairs to his door, I take a breath, reach out and ring the doorbell

As I wait, I hear the yelling get closer

"...have to be fucking kidding me!"

The door swings open and I'm face to face with Mia, Yoongi coming towards the door behind her

"You", she snarls and the next thing I know pain explodes in my face as my vision swims and my head snaps to the side

My body follows my head and I wobble to the side, my foot flying off the step

I hit the ground, my body tumbling hard down the stairs, my temple smacking and scraping against the last step

Fuck

Oh god it hurts

"Joanne!", I hear Yoongi yell

"You slept with my boyfriend?", Mia shrieks, her voice painfully going right through my head

I close my eyes for a second, willing the nausea to go away

"You fucking slut!", Mia yells as I slowly sit up, "Do you open your whore legs for anyone? Not only do you fuck your ex, now you want to fuck your best friend too?"

I'm trying so hard to focus on what she's saying but it's hard

It feels like my head is swimming and I'm trying not to throw up

I touch my temple where the pain is and it feels wet

Pulling my hand away, I see red all over my finger tips

Blood

I'm bleeding

Fuck

"Mia, stop"

"Shut up Yoongi!", she yells, "You fucking cheated on me. With that!"

"It was a mistake", I groan out, slowly standing, needing to get the fuck away from here, "He regrets it"

"No I don't", I hear him say

Or I think he said but I'm not sure

My head feels woozy

He probably said something else and I misheard

"But you don't regret it do you?", she snarls

"I uh...", I say, forcing my eyes open, "Uh, no"

"You fucking bitch", she snaps, starting to come towards me

Oh god, I'm gonna get my ass kicked

"Stop it Mia", Yoongi yells, moving in front of her, stopping her, his back to me

I need to leave asap

"You stay the fuck away from him!", she yells, "Don't fucking come near him or I'll kill you!"

I believe her and right now I'm not in any condition to fight

"Do you hear me?", she shouts

"Yes", I answer, backing away as I realize that Yoongi isn't telling her to stop

He isn't arguing with her

He's letting her say these things to me and he...agrees with it

The rest of my heart that was intact completely shatters

I lost him

I turn around, hurrying back to my car, tears falling down my face as Mia continues to scream at me to never come back

She doesn't have to worry

I won't

Yoongi doesn't want me there, doesn't want me in his life so she'll never see me again

Getting in my car, I start it and take off

I need to go home

Not only am I heartbroken, I'm injured, bleeding and I think I may have a concussion

I need to get home so I can fall apart in peace

[back2bluesidex]

One of Your Girls - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi X Chaebol!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT

Wordcount: 1.2k

Summary: Min Yoongi has been threatening your father. But that's not the problem. The problem is that you wanna get fucked by him.

Warnings: Explicit sex, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, spanking, domish-yoongi, overstimulation, one night stand, mentions of smoking and drinking. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Another smut, because why not.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” No Eul nudges you with her elbow, reminding you how questionable are the things you are doing right now. 

“Yes. The best idea I have ever come up with.” your pride spills through your voice as you reply without shifting your eyes from him. 

“But girl! He is a gangster! Do you know what that means?” your friend is now starting to be annoying. 

You shut your eyes, resisting yourself from lashing out on her. 

“Do I look like a seven year old to you? Of course I know what a gangster is, Eul!” You emphasize your point as much as you can. But you know your ‘idea’ would sound absurd to anyone. 

“Then why are you even doing this? What if he gets offended and he just… he just kills you?” No eul’s eyes are full of fear but you know it’s pointless. Rumors have it that Min Yoongi doesn’t kill women and children unless there is a very good reason. 

And killing you just because you asked him to fuck you? Seems like a far fetched thought. But you are not going to explain that to your friend, not right now, standing in the middle of a dingy nightclub. 

When you place your eyes on Yoongi again, his meeting has already ended and he is walking towards the bar island. 

“Omg omg! He is finally free. I am gonna go. Eul, just take a cab home and make sure Mr. Go doesn’t see you.” you speak hastily, already trying to beeline to Yoongi. 

“But Y/N..”

“Eul.. Go! Don’t just stand here. This is not the place for people like us. Just go home.. I will call you as soon as I am free.”  waving Eul off, you start walking towards Yoongi. 

He looks karismatic as he sips on his drink, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. His dark long hair reaches to his nape, his pale skin glistening under the dim light of the bar counter, veins pop out on his arms and you wonder how those hands would feel on your body. 

Your heels click on the floor as you walk towards the man but you can’t hear the sound because of the loud music in the background. 

What you can hear is the loud beating of your heart, which gradually increases as you reach close to him. 

“Is that seat taken?” you voice, making sure you sound confident enough. 

And then he looks at you with those dark eyes, you feel your soul leaving your body slowly. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He only regards you for a few moments and you wait patiently for his answer. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice is sharp but you don’t understand if he is upset with you for being at this place. 

“You know me?” placing your question, you take a step towards him. 

Yoongi scoffs at your dumb question. 

“Do you think I went to threaten your father without doing any research on your familyline?” he cocks one of his eyebrows. 

You don’t say anything, rather you sit down on the empty seat beside him. There is no point in waiting for his answer anymore. 

But your mind briefly goes back to the day when he broke into your mansion, injuring all of the guards on duty and threatening your father by taking him aside. You were enamored by this mysterious, scary man and all you wanted was to be under his authority for once. 

“Did your daddy send his little daughter to deal with me? So that a bigshot businessman like him doesn’t have to be seen with a thug like me, huh?”  Man! Yoongi really hates your dad for whatever reason you are not aware of. 

“No. I came here alone, all by myself” you reply, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Alone?” Yoongi mocks you, as if he knows you are lying. 

“I mean alone with Mr. Go, my driver.” you answer and Yoongi scoffs. 

“And why did you do that? Why did you come here?” the fine hairs of your neck stand up at the low, husky voice of the man. Especially because he has scooted closer to your body without your knowledge. 

“I came here to see you.” 

“The reason?” 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Yoongi’s eyes turn darker at your proposal. And your heart starts beating even faster. 

“Do you know what you are asking for?” 

“I do. We don’t have to be in love or something. Just make me one of your girls for the night.” 

Yoongi’s tongue darts out of his mouth and wets his lips but he doesn’t say a thing. 

Your cries get muffled on the pillow, your wrists sting due to the tight hold of Yoongi’s rough calloused hand. But you feel euphoric. 

Yoongi’s fat cock hits your g-spot each time he thrusts into you. The lewd sound of wet squelching and skin slapping fill your ears. 

“Your rich cock-hungry whore! You really got the nerves of asking me for a fuck huh? You brat!” Yoongi’s voice is breathless and you want to admire it but before you could, a sharp slap lands on your bare ass. You scream on the pillow. 

“Fuck! So tight! Your pretty little rich boyfriends never really fucked you this good, huh?” he pulls his dick out of your entrance, leaves on the tip inside and then enters you again with full force. Your world starts swinging because of the sensession. 

“N-no- Nobody ever fucked me this good, yoo-Yonngi.”

Nother slap lands on your ass. 

“Did I give you the permission to call me by my name?” Yoongi pinches your clit with his free hand. 

“No-fuck- I am so-ahhh” before you could apologize, he starts rubbing rough circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“G-gonna cum.” you inform him while drooling messily on the pillow. 

“Cum.” Yoongi commands. And you let yourself go. 

Honestly you thought he was going to deny your orgasm and you were a little shocked when he permitted you. 

But your confusions soon go away, when he flips you, lays you on your back all while still being inside you and starts thrusting into you again. 

Your mind goes numb due to overstimulation. You barely can make out what’s happening. 

Your senses finally start coming out of the clouds when you feel hotness flood in your hole. 

Fuck! Yoongi just came inside you! 

“Get your clothes and leave.” he says as he pulls out his dick. 

Even though his harshness hurts you a bit, you know he is right. You should leave as soon as possible. 

So you sit up, grab your panty from the floor, slip into it and walk towards Yoongi for one last time. 

Yoongi has lit up a cigarette and the smoke makes it tough to make out his expression under the fluorescent lights of the motel. But you know he is staring at you.  

Reaching on your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek and maybe that catches him off guard. 

“It was nice knowing you, Yoongi.” you say in his ears before taking your heels and walking out of the door. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[magicshopaholic]

Touch (Yoongi x OC)

Summary: Much to Yoongi's surprise, he spends every waking moment worrying about you.

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Angst

Word count: 3.3 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: none (for this part; for the rest of the series, read individual warnings on each fic)

A/N: Set a couple of days after Flight Risk.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld

Listen to: "space song" by beach house

yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

Yoongi glances around his studio until he’s forced to accept that he’s misplaced his spare headphones. He checks his current pair one more time but when it doesn’t connect to the system, he tosses them on the table and heads out into the empty hallway.

It’s not surprising; it’s late on a Sunday afternoon and he expects that most of the occupants of this floor will have taken the day off, especially before the BTS concert later this evening. He can’t stay long either; he’s already going to be late to soundcheck but he needs to download some last minute music onto his laptop before the group flies out to Japan tomorrow morning.

There’s only one studio he can see that has a sliver of light appearing from under the door. Donghyuk, the only person other than himself who would be here on a Sunday afternoon, is Yoongi’s last hope. He knocks twice, right under the faded plaque reading Supreme Boi, and enters. The first thing he sees is Miso at the controls, the same moment that she looks up to see him, and her face goes momentarily slack.

Her face recovers instantly, however, but it’s a few seconds before she looks away. Yoongi stares at her; she doesn’t look any different from any other day in the studio, wearing a thin full-sleeved shirt and dark jeans, her ankles crossed under the chair. He stands motionless, frozen, as he hears a rushing sound, like the waves of the ocean crashing onto him and he exhales, realising vaguely that it feels as though he’s been holding his breath for the last three days.

“It’s still not working, damn it. Oh - Yoongi!”

Yoongi starts; he’d almost forgotten who he’d come here for. He looks up to see Donghyuk inside the recording booth, waving a hand vigorously at him. 

“Something’s wrong with the sound!” he exclaims, his voice slightly muffled from behind the glass. “I’m checking the mic - can you help Miso with the input?”

Yoongi nods but before stepping inside, he looks at Miso - what for, he’s not sure. Maybe it’s her permission, or maybe it’s any acknowledgement from her at all. But Miso continues looking ahead at the recording booth, not turning towards him at all until finally, she visibly sighs and drops her hand from the controls, sitting back in her chair.

Yoongi makes his way over to her but doesn’t sit in Donghyuk’s chair; instead, he stands next to Miso’s and examines the dashboard, leaning over slightly doing what he can to fix the screeching sound coming from the speaker while Donghyuk fiddles around with the mic and keeps up a spiel of commentary.

The entire time, he’s hyper aware of how close he is to her - and the last time he was this close to her. Both their hands are on the controls now, now that Donghyuk seems to be on the verge of losing it; despite the proximity, however, something in Yoongi is determined not to let himself touch her, even accidentally.

His fingers ghost over hers and her hair brushes his chest on occasion, but Yoongi keeps his distance. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he feels the overwhelming urge to hold her hand, to just give it a momentary squeeze and silently ask her if she’s alright, if she knows that he ran after her that night but was just too late.

After a moment, he places his hand on the top of her chair and when she doesn’t move away, he stays there.

“Okay, I’m going to try this again!” Donghyuk shakes his head and taps on the mic. “Play it from the bridge?”

Miso taps the button and they watch Donghyuk in silence as he bops his head to the beat before starting his background vocals. There’s a sudden screech of feedback from the mic again that makes them all wince and Donghyuk sighs and bends to examine something at the bottom of the mic, which makes it tip over and hit him in the nose when he stands up.

“Fuck!” 

Outside, Yoongi can’t help but snort and glance immediately at Miso. She still isn’t looking at him, but the upward curve of her cheek tells him she’s smiling as well. Something seems to explode in his stomach at the sight of it and he grins to himself, every colour in the studio suddenly seeming brighter for a moment.

“Glad I gave you two something to laugh about,” grumbles Donghyuk, giving up on the mic and shuffling out of the booth. “We’re going to have to get a technician in here before we record anything else,” he says to Miso.

She nods. “I’ll call them.”

He nods back and looks up at Yoongi. “What’s up, man?” he asks with a half handshake, half high-five. “Wait - don’t you have a concert?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies quickly. “I just came to…” He trails off, realising he’s forgotten why he stepped into this studio in the first place.

Donghyuk raises his eyebrows. “You forgot?”

Yoongi frowns, trying to remember, but he can’t recall anything before the sudden shock of seeing Miso calmly sitting inside a studio, two days after doing nothing but worrying about her.

She’s looking at him sceptically, too; it occurs to him that she probably thinks he came here just to see her and he automatically takes a step back, his cheeks heating up unexpectedly. 

“Um… yeah, I don’t - I don’t remember.” He clears his throat. “I should go,” he mutters, turning around to leave.

“Okay,” says Donghyuk. “Good luck with the concert, man. And the tour,” he adds.

“Thanks.” Yoongi turns around one last time before stepping out the door to look at Miso, but her attention is on the laptop now, her shoulders twisted away from him.

Yoongi knows he should head out. He’s already late for sound check, hair and make-up will take some time and Namjoon always likes to sit them down and give them a talk before a concert, especially one that will kick off their world tour. 

But his feet won’t let him. He stands outside Donghyuk’s studio, feeling like a stalker, but knowing that he will be absolutely useless to everyone if he leaves for his concert, possibly even Korea, without talking to Miso.

He’s there for nearly thirty minutes before the door opens and his heart skips a beat when she walks out. She looks taken aback for a fraction of a second before her face glazes over again and she continues down the hall.

“What’s up, Min Suga?”

Yoongi freezes for a second before going after her, taking two large steps before falling in sync with her. “Um, just came to… nothing. What’s - what’s up with you?” he asks quickly, cringing inwardly.

“You mean aside from ensuring Donghyuk doesn’t kill himself with his own equipment?” she asks dryly. “Not much.”

“Oh.” He follows her absently until she reaches the coffee station. “How’s that going?”

“Not well, as you can probably tell.” She reaches for a cup. “He seems to have a crazy knack for being uncoordinated.”

It sounds like an insult, but Yoongi knows her better than that by now. Moreover, something about how she drops a fact that indicates the amount of time she’s spending with another producer rankles.

“Right. No, that’s - that’s always been his thing. In fact, funny thing -” He chuckles “- when we were trainees, he and Kim Namjoon were famous for being the tallest and the most clumsy - I mean, they would knock everything over and everyone was sure they would never make -”

“Min Suga,” she interrupts, nonchalantly scanning the coffee sachets available, “you’re rambling.”

Yoongi stops abruptly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. What’s up?”

He stares at her as she reads the ingredients off one of the sachets. He isn’t sure what he was expecting exactly, but something about how… normal she’s behaving is surreal.

“I, uh…” He supposes he ought to say the one thing he owes her no matter what. “I wanted to apologise. I - I had no idea you’d taken your name off the song. If I did, I would never have used it.”

She glances up at him, only mildly curious. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. Jung PD didn’t tell me until after… everything.” Yoongi takes a hesitant step closer, deathly careful to not invade her personal space. “It was your song. You didn’t have to do what you did. I would’ve… figured something out,” he finishes lamely.

“What would you have done?”

“I don’t know. I would’ve used one of my unreleased songs or - or I would’ve written a new one or -”

“Or you would’ve blamed me for the rest of your life.” Miso gives him a knowing look, shaking a packet of coffee powder with one hand.

“I -” Yoongi swallows uncomfortably. “That’s not true. I mean, I was angry, yes, but I didn’t… You - you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I didn’t. I did it for Hwan.”

He pushes his tongue into his cheek and nods, at a loss for how to respond to this. Her eyes are fixed on the coffee machine and she’s barely looking at him, but she’s not angry. He almost wishes she was.

“Okay. Well… thank you, anyway,” he murmurs humbly. “And I’m going to get your name back on the song,” he promises, straightening up a little. “It’ll take some time but I’ll get it done.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can,” he insists, feeling the familiar annoyance at her constant argumentative nature. “You can get your name back on the song retroactively; we’ve done it before. We have to speak to Legal and PR and they will -“

“No, you can’t as in you… can’t.” Miso sighs and glances up at him briefly, rolling her eyes in a forced motion. “The reason the song is out there is because I took my name off it. I thought you pieced that together, Min Suga.”

“But -“

“Just let it go, will you?”

Yoongi falls silent. She’s still making her coffee, meticulously emptying the packet and examining all the valves on the machine. It’s strange, given that she’s usually the person on the floor who takes the shortest coffee breaks.

Suddenly encouraged, he exhales and changes the subject.

“Will you be at the concert tonight?”

She scoffs, not unkindly. “Will you be at the concert tonight? Doesn’t it start in, like, an hour?”

“Two,” he argues weakly. “And… isn’t everyone going? That was the point of the free tickets for the team,” he points out.

“Yeah, but I can’t. I gave mine to one of the interns and she almost fainted.”

Yoongi tries not to feel slighted by this. “So you’re not going?”

“We have a lot to get done tonight,” she answers simply.

He purses his lips as her words sink in. “We, as in…”

“Donghyuk and I, yes.” She shrugs innocently. “He is my boss now, technically.”

“So… you guys will just be working together? On a Sunday night?”

Miso frowns. “Yeah. You and I did that quite a bit, too, if you recall. Also, I’m hoping that if I stay late tonight, I might actually get credited on a song for once.”

His words die in his throat. “Oh, I - um -“

She notices and rolls her eyes. “Jesus, it’s a joke, Min Suga. Lighten up.”

Yoongi can’t think of anything he’s less likely to do right now, and he also can’t fathom how she’s joking at the moment. He half-wonders if he’d dreamed the events of the launch party when she presses the button for the hot water and slides her cup under it, her fingers still around it when the water begins flowing.

“Careful -“ He moves instinctively to shove her hand away from the steaming liquid but at the last moment remembers his determination to not touch her and swipes the cup away instead, only for his own fingers to intercept the hot water.

“What are you -“ Miso winces as he hisses in pain and snatches his hand back. There doesn’t seem to be any damage to it but the skin still smarts; Yoongi examines it uneasily when another pair of hands appear with paper towels in them and press them to the burning area.

“Oh -“ He stays frozen to the spot and lets her do what she’s doing, but it only lasts a moment before she drops her hands from his. His gaze remains on her sleeve and he wonders what he will see if he pushes it over her wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly, pressing the napkins to his own hand.

Miso exhales but doesn’t look up at him, busying herself with another cup. “This again?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Donghyuk?”

“Actually, you told me about Donghyuk,” she replies shortly. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He shakes his head, knowing he’d set himself up for that response. “No,” he says honestly. “I know what I said, but… I didn’t mean it.”

For once, she doesn’t respond with a snarky remark. “Well,” she says after a moment, “it’s done now. Maybe it’ll be for the best.”

“Sure. Why didn’t you tell me, though?”

“It was the middle of the night.”

“So? I always pick up calls, any time of the day.”

“Would you have picked up my call?” She raises her eyebrows at him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Yoongi sighs, knowing he can’t win here. “Glad it worked out for you, I guess.”

“It’s not bad so far,” she admits. “Plus, he and I actually get along pretty well so that’s a bonus.” 

“Uh-huh.”

She smirks innocently before snorting at his stony face. “You are so easy to piss off, you know that?” she mutters wryly.

“I’m glad I amuse you.”

She chuckles and it’s the first actual smile he’s seen from her all week. “Donghyuk’s going to your concert,” she assures him after a moment.

“Not you, though.”

“Nope. My dad’s hosting a dinner and the whole community will be there so I have to go,” she informs him, before pausing for a moment. “He’s just acquired a company, you see.”

Something creeps through Yoongi’s chest at her tone. “That guy, Jiho,” he says sharply, dropping all attempts at beating around the bush. “Will he be there, too?”

“I guess. He’s only the guest of honour.” Miso stares at the cup under the water valve for a moment before seemingly forcing her gaze up towards him. Something in his expression must tip her off, for her shoulders deflate and she shakes her head. “I don’t think we’ll have much to say to each other anymore,” she mutters in what he presumes is supposed to be a reassuring tone - although who she’s reassuring, he isn’t sure. 

Yoongi clenches his jaw. They’ve arrived at the topic he’s been thinking of non-stop for the last three days, except now that they’re actually here, he has no idea how to ask her about it without fully prying into his colleague’s personal life.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally in a small voice, swallowing and hoping that for once, she’ll give him a straight answer. Miso doesn’t look at him, and after a few seconds of silence, he begins to think she won’t answer him at all.

“I’ve been better,” she admits, equally quiet. She takes a moment before looking up at him, her face blank again. “Donghyuk’s not making it any easier.”

“Miso.”

“Yoongi, whatever it is you’re blaming yourself for, you can stop. Okay? None of this is your fault,” she implores, giving him a slightly annoyed look before shaking her head. “This had nothing to do with you at all,” she mutters.

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi feels a prickling in his eyes. It’s the frustration, more than anything else, of not knowing, of not being able to find out because the wall that Miso has erected around her feels impenetrable. The few moments of real, human emotion that break through it have brought him here and it’s with a sinking realisation that he concedes to never being able to turn back.

“But I’m sorry anyway,” he says softly, his gaze not moving from her side profile.

Miso stares at the coffee machine without looking at anything. Her jaw hardens and Yoongi wonders if she’s ever heard these words from anyone before.

She takes a deep breath and finally turns to him, her eyes on the floor. “I know you came after me. After the car,” she amends quietly. “I heard you. And I just want to say…” She trails off and bites her lip before her eyes flicker up to look at him. 

“… don’t ever do that again.”

Yoongi’s heart hammers. “Don’t ever try to help you again?”

She shakes her head and looks away, as though he’s getting this completely muddled. “You know how when the release got cancelled, you felt guilty about Hwan, you got furious at me and you were helpless and it just ruined your whole day?” She waits for him to nod. “You should want that to be the biggest problem in your life. I want that to be the biggest problem in your life.”

He bristles, but he keeps his focus on her. “I can handle more than you think,” he states.

“But you shouldn’t have to. I don’t need that on my conscience,” she murmurs, her gaze falling again. She sighs and looks up at him. “You should get to your concert.”

Yoongi stares at her, hoping for her smooth expression to waver even for a moment, but it never does. She holds it together, even as she swallows.

“Okay,” he says at last. “See you around, Kang Miso.” He holds out a hand.

She hesitates but takes it, her pale, slender hand slipping into his. Her skin is cold but Yoongi grips it with a relief that surprises him. His thumb moves along the back of her hand before he stops himself, expecting her to take back her hand, but she doesn’t. 

He raises his left hand to her wrist and is about to raise the sleeve when he feels her stiffen. He freezes, before gently wrapping his hand around the wrist, encasing her hand in both of his. He thinks vaguely of his overseas schedule for the next few weeks and his heart clenches unexpectedly.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, watching as her eyes flicker slowly from their clasped hands to his face. “I always pick up calls. Any time of the day.”

It feels like forever, but after a moment she nods, retrieving her hand from between his. 

“Thanks,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with the same hand. “I’ll, uh… I’ll keep you updated on Donghyuk’s many escapades. Unless he kills himself by tripping on a wire first.”

Yoongi nods, his chest feeling both heavy yet freer than before. “Can’t wait.”

There’s a hint of a smile on her face before she picks up her cup of coffee and takes a step back. “Have a good concert, Min Suga. And tour.” She turns to leave when he calls her name again, and she turns with a sigh. “Damn, do you even want to make it for your concert?”

He gives her a look and shakes his head. “Keep me updated on tonight as well?”

She squints, clearly seeing right through him. “Updated on what exactly?”

“You know…” He cringes inwardly. “Your, uh… your family. And - and friends.”

Miso tilts her head. “Will do,” she says sarcastically. “Now get out of here. And put some damn ointment on that burn.”

Yoongi frowns for a moment before remembering, and it’s at that moment that his hand seems to sting again. He glances down at it to see a white blister already forming and winces. He looks up to thank her, but she’s already gone.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[indndwnshead]

Veiled: Introduction

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Warning/tags: Mafia AU, Age Gap (like 8 years of difference), there will be violence but not in this intro, soft/sickly/naive reader and dominant mafia boss Yoongi (why do I love this type of story but please don't be like this irl girls??)

----

In the heart of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows, the Kim family's presence was both a whispered legend and an ominous reality. Known as the second-ranking family within the Min Mafia Empire, their influence was a shadowy force to be reckoned with. Raised within the confines of a luxurious mansion, you, the youngest of the four Kim siblings, had always lived in blissful ignorance of the intricate details of your father's and your brothers' sinister dealings. Your health issues, stemming from your premature birth, had kept you confined to the safety of your home, your world painted with the colours of innocence.

Jin, your eldest brother and a man of honour, had been your saviour from the moment you took your first breath. He was your protector, your confidant, and your anchor in a world filled with uncertainty. Though groomed to be the successor to your father's power, Jin had surprised everyone by choosing to pursue a career in medicine instead. His decision had been a profound act of love, a choice made to ensure that your fragile existence was never jeopardized by the dangerous world of crime your family inhabited.

Namjoon, the middle sibling, was a genius in his own right. His sharp mind had always made him stand out. But as he delved deeper into the family business under your father's tutelage, he had become somewhat distant. You carried the weight of guilt for this transformation, believing that he resented both you and Jin for the choices they made that seemed to leave him with no option but to step into the void left by Jin's departure from the mafia world. In reality, Namjoon's distance was driven by a desire to protect your innocence from the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

Taehyung, your closest brother in age, initially harboured resentment when you were born. You became the centre of attention, diverting everyone's focus away from him. However, a single incident marked a turning point - the day you fainted after Taehyung finally asked you to play together for the first time. Overjoyed at the opportunity to share a playful moment with your youngest brother, your happiness led you to push your fragile health limits. Taehyung swore he had only turned away for a brief moment, racing ahead as you chased him in a game of tag. Yet, when he glanced back, you had already collapsed, unconscious on the ground. It was in that critical moment that Taehyung realized the fragility of your existence. From that moment onward, he transformed into your most trusted ally and partner-in-crime within the confines of your sheltered life. Taehyung understood your limits better than anyone else and knew precisely how to push your buttons.

Your life took an unexpected turn when you turned eighteen and your father announced the arranged marriage between you and Yoongi, the only child of Mr. Min, the formidable head of the Min Mafia Empire. The news had left you elated and anxious, for you had long admired Yoongi from afar. Your crush on him had blossomed into a deep affection ever since your sixteenth birthday. However, as you entered the latter half of your teenage years, Yoongi had slowly but inexplicably distanced himself from you.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had also fallen for you, but he carried the weight of guilt. The age gap and the complexities of your family's mafia ties had convinced him that his feelings were inappropriate. He had kept his emotions locked away, leaving you to wonder why he had become a distant figure in your life.

Now, at twenty-two and thirty, you and Yoongi were officially married, a couple in the eyes of the world. The façade of your love was convincing, but the words "I love you" had never left Yoongi's lips. He was fiercely protective and possessive of you, guarding the secret of his feelings with the same intensity he employed to protect you from the perilous world into which you had been thrust. Yet, you remained in the dark about the true nature of your family's involvement in the criminal empire, a world where darkness and danger lurked in the shadows, and where your innocence had been carefully shielded from the truth.

However, your life soon took a turn for the worse when you unknowingly let a seemingly innocent new friend enter your life, unveiling your perception of your world.

---

A/N: One day I had this wild thought and gave birth to a 7k+ word story. Testing the waters to see if there is interest in the plot. IT WILL GET ANGSTY (possibly smutty, idk, not sure about this one yet). Please let me know? 🥹

Also yes, very self-indulgent of me to get all the Kims to be your brother and just get all those angsty plots and AU into one big story.

[ze-eternalmarsh]

Name: Acorns For Your Heart

Ship: VSope (Taehyung/Yoongi/Hoseok - BTS

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Wordcount: currently at 35,182 with 5 chapters (has 21 chapters + 1 epilogue. More than 180k words total)

Type: Long fic (finished but chapters being posted weekly on Fridays)

Tags: fluff, angst, smut, alternate universe, soulmates, magic, fantasy, magical realism, soulmarks, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, angst with a happy ending, lack of communication, polyamory, polyamory negotiations, self-discovery, self-worth issues, self-hatred, falling in love, denial of feelings, feelings realization, healing, bonding, literal sleeping together, cuddling, trauma, loss, physical disability, grief/mourning, unhealthy coping mechanisms, slow burn (HELLA slow), self-acceptance, growth, idiots in love, not actually unrequired love, love confessions, magic shop owner Yoongi, witch Yoongi, squirrel hybrid Hoseok, vampire Taehyung, eventual smut (other tags to be added)

Summary:

In a world where tattoos appear on people's bodies when they fall in love with their designated person, Hoseok, a squirrel hybrid, and Taehyung, a vampire, turn out to be soulmates. Despite only meeting recently and not being in love yet, they both get their soulmark only a week after meeting. It’s something that Yoongi, Hoseok's witchy best friend, can't seem to accept.

Especially since Yoongi has had a soulmark on his body for Hoseok for years, with no sign of the hybrid reciprocating it.

[As mentioned, pre-written fic with 21+1 chapters that updates every Fridays! Pls read the notes for potential triggers or sensitive subjects that will be mentioned in the fic]

[Incredible art by this artist on twitter that I commissioned for this fic! Please check them and this fic out :D!]