#if there are spelling mistakes and shit i am sprry but i do not have the energy to edit this thing atm

[exo-can]

Growing Pains: Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25

A/N: Sooo, it’s been a while lmao.

Please note that this is part of a series, although this chapter has enough in it that you can infer what is going on so it can be read by itself. 

Previous Chapters:

 When We Were Young (Smut) 

I Miss You (semi-smut) 

 River Lea(Smut)

Warnings: Smut (like a lot yo. Probably the filthiest thing i’ve written ok.) , cursing, choking, hairpulling, Yoongi is not happy about your confession  but has emotional constipation so chooses to take it out in ~other~ ways

Sunlight casts it’s warm glow over you, body growing hot under the mountain of blankets you'd haphazardly thrown over yourself late last night. You don’t move though, letting the rays of light burn against your eyelids as you bask in the afterglow of sleep. That is, until you felt the slickness of sweat in the crevices of your form. Sighing lightly, you shift on the couch and feel the heaviness begin to fade from your limbs as stiffness takes its place. The apartment is quiet, the city too. That magical sunday haze always makes it seem like the world is running at half-pace, if only for a few hours in the morning. Slowly, you crack your eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall above your tv. 11:14… you note silently. Woojin must have left for work without waking me.

And just like that, your calm morning is gone, spirited away by a fresh wave of emotions that you can no longer chalk up as only guilt. A second sigh escapes you, though this one was much heavier than the first. Pushing the blankets away from your body, you sit upright on the couch. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you straighten the crumpled outfit which you’d never bothered to change out of last night. Spotting your phone on the coffee table, you pick it up with a yawn and tap the screen to life. A couple emails, some notifications from various social media platforms and one text that makes a soft smile curl your lips upward without your knowledge.

 Yoongi                          4:38am

Did you get back okay? You could've stayed you know.

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

 "It's me." the words had sounded timid as they'd left your mouth, even by your own ears.

“I know.” He didn't sound surprised, which irked you. You knew what he said on the roof, but a part of you still worried that this was a game to him. A game in which he knew he was currently holding the winning hand. “Caller I.D."

“Right.” A faint heat bloomed on your cheeks as the elevator doors gave a soft ‘ding’ and opened to the apartment buildings lobby. Plopping yourself down on one of the plush leather chairs, you fiddled anxiously with the sleeve of your oversized jacket. A dim crackle of radio silence echoed across the speaker, not quite sure what to say now that you’d actually dialed his number. You tried though, a feeble “I-” making it’s way up from your vocal cords before the line went quiet again.

Thankfully, Yoongi was the first to break the tension. “Do you want to come by? I would’ve offered at Luna’s but…”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d rather not broadcast what we’re up to to them.” You answered honestly. It wasn’t that you didn’t love and trust your friends. It was just that it was much harder to explain what you were doing when you yourself didn’t even really know. “But yeah, I would… if that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to, Y/N.” Yoongi reassured you, making your insides twirl. “I can come and get you. You still at Luna’s building?”

“I am, but that’s alright. You’re already at home.”

“It’s not far.” He insisted. “I don’t mind. Besides, this way you don’t have to wait for a cab.”

You bit your lip, and responded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” A rustle could be heard on the other end, which you could safely assume came from his pushing his arms into his jacket. “I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me in the lobby, okay? It’s cold out.”

This made you giggle. Thoughtful and protective as ever. “Yoongi, it’s July.”

“I know but,” he replied with a sigh and you wondered if he was making that cute exasperated face that he used to make whenever you teased him, “just humor me, okay?”

“Okay.” You said, the remnants of laughter still present in your voice. “See you soon?”

He hummed in agreement before adding, “I’ll text you once i’m there.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead and immediately you began to fidget, nerves beginning to set in. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect when you went over there. There wasn’t time on the roof to discuss the details of what this arrangement would entail. Everything with Yoongi was grey, reminding you of how your relationship had started back in college. He never was big on discussing this type of stuff, you remarked silently. Yoongi was and always had been a man of action, not words. Words he saved for music. Once upon a time, you had found this incredibly frustrating. Now however, you were grateful that you could explore your rekindled relationship, whatever it may be, without the pressure of definition. Perhaps it was time that made the craving for clarity you had when you were younger wane. Or perhaps it was the fact that diving deep and defining what this was, meant you’d have to face the demons residing in your head. Whichever, you knew that there was one thing you’d have to lay out on the table for both of your sakes. As much as the thought of doing so made your heart clench and your gut churn with dread.

The screen of your phone lit up suddenly, a new text flashing up on the lock screen which read:

 Here. Black car right in front of the doors.

             Gathering yourself up from the couch, you took a soothing breath before stepping out of the building. Sure enough, a black car sat parked directly in front of the doors which gently clicked shut once you’d let go of the metal. Seeing the car, it was suddenly that much clearer to you that Yoongi really had worked hard in the time you’d been apart. As college kids, neither of you had driven, the cost of having a car in the city being too much for either of you to justify. Now however, it seemed Yoongi didn’t have a need to pinch pennies like he used to. The black car parked in front of you acting only as evidence of this fact. It was nothing obnoxious, but you could tell that the car had cost a fair amount more than your used Honda. Steeling yourself, you grasped the sleek handle on the door and climbed inside.

           Settling as gracefully as possible into the luxurious leather seat, you sneaked a glance at Yoongi. A pang of guilt washed over you, realizing he had already changed into sweats and a simple white t-shirt before you’d called. You let a frown turn the corners of your lips downward. “Thank you for picking me up.”

           A small chuckled emanating from his chest made you look up from his clothes. His face was encased in the blue glow of the lights from the dash of the car. His hair was slightly tousled, blonde tufts just long enough to sweep over his eyebrows. A teasing smirk played at the edges of his mouth while his dark eyes regarded you.

           “What?” You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

           “It’s been years and you still haven’t learned to just let people do things for you, huh?”

           Rolling your eyes, you gently pushed at the hand that was draped over the gear shift. “I just don’t like being a bother.”

           “You never are.” His blunt response made you blush, your gaze travelling down to your lap where your fingers toyed with one another.

           There was no need to look up at him, you knew he had a pleased expression on his face. Playing with you had always been one of his favourite things to do, if only because of the color it brought to your cheeks. Shifting the car into drive, he pulled away from the curb.

Both of you fell silent as Yoongi drove, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lingering familiarity with one another eased the tension alongside your earlier banter. Turning your eyes toward the streets that passed you by, you wondered what his place was like. Did it measure up to the car? Your mind attempted to conjure up an image of what type of place you pictured Yoongi living in. However, everytime you tried to picture him living somewhere posh and luxurious, like the car, you couldn’t. The Yoongi you’d once known liked urban places. Area’s full of little nooks and crannies hiding the best of what the city could offer by the people who were its life blood. Hell, you couldn’t even count the number of times he’d led you through obscure alleyways and because ‘I swear, it’s the best in town’. And frankly, he’d always been right. Though that never stopped you from teasing him, calling him a hipster and laughing when he rolled his eyes. You didn’t even realize you were sporting a small smile while recalling all old memories until you felt it drop.

           It really hadn’t been far, just as Yoongi had assured you. The car ride only lasted about 15 minutes before he was turning a corner to come before tall wrought-iron gates enclosing an area that was towered over by a few highrises. It was then that you realized that the car really did match the house as Yoongi unrolled his window and gave an amical wave to the man sitting in a small booth just on the other side of the iron bars. The man gave him a friendly grin before opening the gate for Yoongi’s car to pass through. Rolling his window back up, you sidled up to the passenger door, gawking at the height of the buildings before you. Yoongi’s fingers drummed against the head of the gear shifter as he pulled into a parking garage. As he drove to his space, you couldn’t help but notice that all the cars you passed were on the same caliber, or higher, as his own. Reaching his own parking spot, the car came to a stop and you unbuckled your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi locked the doors and motioned for you to follow him.

All the way up to the apartment, you had the distinct feeling that he was watching you and the feeling only heightened once you were inside. You did your best to school your features, not wanting to come off as rude, but you couldn’t help your eyes from widening as you took in his place. From the entryway, you could see into his kitchen and lounge. Both were impressive. The kitchen was decked out with white cabinets and marble countertops while the living room was big enough that you were positive it could house the entirety of your small shared apartment. But the real thing that caught your eye was the view.

Floor to ceiling windows made up the wall to the outside world and with the height you were at, you could see nearly the whole city. Lights twinkled in the distance as you let out a breathless,  “Wow.”

“You like it?” Yoongi asked, his eyes still hovering over your frame as you slipped your shoes off to move closer to the windows.

“It’s beautiful.” You replied honestly, your gaze raking over the city. Eyes drifting down, you could barely make out the man sitting in his booth at the gate. Dimly, you noticed no one milled about the street down below, this area’s inhabitants much more used to staying within their pretty walls. You really had been honest; this place was beautiful materialistically, but something about it just seemed a little cold to you. There was no hustle and bustle here. It almost felt detached from the city. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the appeal of being removed from the loud streets and neon signs, it was just so far from what you had known Yoongi to love when he was younger. These thoughts raced in your mind and before you could think better of it, you slipped, “but-”

           “But?” Yoongi had padded across the hardwood floors to you while you were in thought, handing you a glass of water that you hadn’t even heard him get.

           Quickly, you arranged your features into a warm grin, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking a sip from the glass before speaking again, “I just always pictured you living somewhere more… lively.”

           Insecurity flashed across his face so briefly, you wondered if it really had been there at all as he rearranged his expression into the indifferent look you were well acquainted with. A hand came up to scratch the back of his head as he replied, “yeah, I guess it is a bit… much, isn’t it?”

           “No, Yoongi.” You rushed to say, worried you’d hurt his feelings. “It’s just a surprise is all. I knew you worked hard since we graduated, I just didn’t realize how hard.”

           This seemed to appease him, but you could tell that he knew you were trying to make him feel better from the slight downturn of his mouth. Nodding, he motioned to the white couch in the living room. Relief flooded your veins at the realization that he was as content to drop the subject as you were when he said, “sit with me?”

           Nodding, you padded your way across the hardwood floors to the couch, settling down in the middle. Yoongi followed, plopping down onto your right, leaving you to immediately question your decision making skills as the scent of his cologne engulfed you in the close proximity. A pale arm came to rest on the back of the couch as he wedged himself into the corner, legs spreading comfortably. A knee knocked yours and you forced yourself not to gasp at the contact. Slim fingers drummed the cushion, close enough to you that you were sure your hair was grazing the tips each time he lifted them. A jolt of desire churned in your stomach, unable to quell the images of where else those fingers had touched not weeks prior.

           “So, what about you?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

           “What about me?” You replied, trying to hide your blush as you took a sip of water, willing the liquid to kill the flames inside you before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. After all, you had no idea what to expect from tonight. You had no idea what Yoongi, or even you, expected from this causal relationship. Though your body certainly seemed to know what you wanted.

           “What are you doing now?” He said. “I just realized that I never really asked. Did you apply at that newspaper after college?”

           You hid the wince at the mention of that particular venture. “Um, I did, yeah.”

           “And you got it? That’s great, Y/N-”

           “Oh, no, I didn’t get the job.” You responded quickly, suddenly finding the spacious room more than a little stifling.

           “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

           “No, it’s okay!” You plastered a bright practiced grin on your face and looked up at him, the same grin you’d given all of your relatives when they asked the same thing. Not wanting to make it more awkward, you blurted, “I actually got a job at a gardening magazine. It’s proofreading but the hours are great and the pay is pretty decent too.”

           “Well, that’s great— wait,” He paused, a look of confusion passed over his face and your stomach dropped. You should’ve known better than to say anything to him of all people. “Proofreading? I thought you hated doing that.”

           A melancholy chuckle left your lips. “I did, but honestly it’s not so bad. I could do worse.”

           He hummed, not in agreement but acknowledgement and the fact that you could hear the difference irked you. “Are you gonna stay there for a while?”

           It felt as though a crack had split your smile and Yoongi was peering into it. Were you really still so easy for him to read? It wasn’t fair, not when you felt like you were constantly chasing a shadow. The remains of the smile slipped from your lips and you considered his question. You shifted as you contemplated, your knee now leaning against his fully while your body twisted so you could face him more. Fingers brushed against your shoulder as you spoke softly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.”

           “Why’s that?”

“I just—” you sighed, your brows furrowing together unable to help the way Yoongi seemed to pull the truth from you in any situation, “when I started there, I told myself it was only temporary. But as time went on, I guess I just started to get comfortable, y’know? And now, I don’t know, it’s hard to just up and leave something without guarantee that it’ll work out. So I stayed.”

He leaned forward slightly, almost making you jump when the pads of his fingers found the nape of your neck and kneaded the skin softly. It was casual; he only needed to move a few inches to reach your skin, his arm still resting nonchalantly over the back of the couch. If you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have really thought it was anything besides a comforting gesture. But you weren’t just anybody. The action made your mind sift through countless memories in which he’d done the same. Once he’d found out the action was something you found comforting years ago, it had become a sort of habit for him. You didn’t know if he had meant to do it or if it was only natural after having dated all through college, but the gesture instantly had you feeling more at ease. However, the touch still made your breath catch.

Hearing the stutter in your breathing, Yoongi hesitated. His fingers came to a stop and made to pull away as he muttered, “Sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay before I—”

“Wait,” before you could think anything of it, your fingers curled around his forearm to halt him in his retreat, “it’s okay.”

It wasn’t actually, but with the way tension you hadn’t even known you’d been clutching on to had begun to seep from your limbs at his ministrations, you couldn’t muster the energy to deny yourself a reprieve.

A faint smile wormed its way onto his lips as your head tilted so that the skin of your cheek rested on his arm. In a voice so small you were sure he hadn’t meant for you to hear, you heard a barely there ‘cute’ just as his fingers resumed drawing shapes into your skin. Not wanting him to catch on that you’d heard, you drew your thanks into the skin of his arm, your own fingers mirroring the movements of his on your neck. With each shape drawn, Woojin grew more and more distant in your mind. Your resolve to confess grew weaker with every stroke while the butterflies in your stomach roared, finding the will to ruin this moment dismal.

“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over you two, “is this your move now?”

His head quirked and an eyebrow raised. “My move?”

“Yeah,” there was a teasing tone in your voice. “Instead of food stalls and diners you bring the girls up here to woo em’?”

A raspy chuckle shook his shoulders, a sly smirk stretching his lips. “Honestly, I haven’t had any of this long enough to try it. Why, is it working?”

“Meh,” you acted indifferent, shrugging your shoulders playfully and jiggling the arm that was half slung around you. “I prefer to be wined and dined.”

“I’d hardly call plastic stools, soju, and chicken ‘wined and dined.’”

“Hey,” you pouted, raising your head from his arm. “I’ll have you know I loved those stupid plastic chairs.”

“Don’t I know it.” He snorted. “You almost ripped my head off when you found out I went with Jin without you that one time.”

He wasn’t lying. You really almost did. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I always thought of it as our ‘place.’”

An amused look crossed his features. “Our ‘place?’”

“Yeah, y’know,” heat flared in your cheeks, absentmindedly squeezing his forearm out of embarrassment and mumbling, “like couples those in movies and shit have a ‘place.’ I thought of that as ours.”

“You thought of a street food stall as our ‘place’?” The mirth in his voice did not escape your ears.

“I mean, not just one. More like the street.” You replied sheepishly, earning you a genuine gummy laugh. The grips you had on each other loosened as his body rocked forward, his free hand landing on your thigh as his frame shook. Your heart did a somersault in your chest as the distance between you diminished. His laughter earned him a slap on the chest as your bottom lip jutted out. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, it’s just, there?” His laughter died out, his hand on the back of the chair coming up to carry the weight of his head as he rested on it, your hair fluttering against his bicep. “Of all places?”

“Well, excuse me Mr. High-and-mighty. You have somewhere better you’re thinking of?”

“Your old apartment.” His answer was immediate.

“My apartment?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he replied, a fondness glazing over his eyes as he looked down at you. “We had a lot of important moments in that place.”

Like watching a movie, memories flashed in your mind. Good, bad, and somewhere in between; all sorts of things happened in the confines of those walls. Some you wished you could forget. Some that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. It was only now that you realized just how close the two of you had gotten while you talked. His thumb rubbed at the skin just above your knee and he had drawn one leg of his own up onto the couch, folding it under himself so his shin pressed against the length of your thigh. The white shirt he wore billowed against your arm and upon looking at his face, you realized that if you leaned in just the littlest bit more, you would be able to stretch your neck up so your lips would meet. Looking at him, you finally saw behind his carefully constructed walls. The tender look on his face as his ink coloured irises gazed down at you told you that it wasn’t just you who treasured those memories. Eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth and you could feel his body coaxing you to just bridge the gap. Squirming under his gaze, your eyes dropped to your lap.

“I lived there,” you said with a shaky voice. “Doesn’t count as a place.”

An amused puff of air escaped him, fanning across your cheek down to your collarbone. Minty.

“So, is this how you get the guys now?” You couldn’t help but peer back up at him at the question. The hand that was on your leg rose to grip your chin, his thumb giving your bottom lip a featherlight stroke. A surge of heat rocketed through you at the contact. “By being a sore loser and pouting when they prove you wrong?”

This time, you chuckled, repeating his earlier words, “why, is it working?”

“Yes.” He admitted instantly, your legs pressing together in response. His hand holding you in his grip, dark eyes drifted down to where his thumb sat just below the ridge of your bottom lip. Your own eyes dropped too, watching raptly as his mouth came closer and closer to your own. The air felt heavy, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as your tongue snaked out to wet your lips, catching the salty tip of his thumb. Letting your eyes drift back up, you saw that his irises had become darker, his lids drooping slightly and exuding lust. He was going to kiss you and god, did you want him to. But as soon as you felt the slightest brush of his lips against yours, the face of your boyfriend popped into your mind. Jerking, you pushed him just far enough away that you could drop your head in shame.

“Yoongi, wait.” You fought the trembling in your voice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Ever-respectful, Yoongi immediately released you. His hand fell into his lap, your skin instantly mourning the loss as he leaned back away from you. Studying his face, you could feel your heartbeat quicken and your palms growing clammy. He watched as you tried to summon your courage, the only sign that he was worried being the way his brows scrunched to make the faintest ripple in the skin of his forehead. Taking a slow breath and trying not to pay attention to the way your face suddenly felt so much warmer, you spoke, “I should’ve told you this on the rooftop, but I-”

Your throat clenched around the syllables and your hands curled into fists where they had fallen on your lap when he had backed away from you.

“Hey,” Yoongi replied, reaching out to the hand on your lap before hesitating. Deciding you needed the comfort, he let his hand lower to stroke the skin. “It’s all right. You can tell me now. Or not. I never meant to push you into anything and if I have-”

“No! It’s not that. It’s nothing you did.” You immediately responded, your hand flipping to hold his tightly in reassurance. “I- um, I’m actually seeing someone.”

“Oh.” His hand was still in yours but you felt it go limp in your grasp. It was almost comical the way his eyes widened before his carefully constructed mask slipped into place. The silence was suffocating. If you tried, you could probably hear every car within a block of his place right now. Ink irises swept over your face and lowered your head, guilt surging through you. Sensing that you’d outstayed your welcome, you began to rise from the couch only for his fingers to contract and pull you down to the couch again. Landing rather ungracefully, you met his eyes once more. “Is that why you freaked out the next morning?”

You didn’t have to ask for context. “Yeah, it was him on the phone.”

“Hm…” He hummed, more to let you know that he’d heard you than anything. His eyes studied your face, as though searching for something. But what, you didn’t know. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Um,” you replied, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was a little bit busy freaking the fuck out.”

He gave you an exasperated look, his grip still tight on your hand. “I mean that night.”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to shut it again. Why hadn’t you? You’d been drinking, but not nearly enough to make you forget something so vital. Even when you were having sex, you knew it was wrong in the back of your mind, and yet you hadn’t let out a peep. Sifting through your memories, you couldn’t really find a definite answer. At least you had the decency to shoot him an apologetic glance.  “I should’ve, I know.”

“And after?”

“I didn’t think your number was the same?” It was a sorry excuse and you both knew it.

“You didn’t think to ask the six friends we share?”

“I-”

“He doesn’t know does he?” The question he cut you off with was more a statement than anything.

“No.” Something in Yoongi’s eyes seemed to click, causing shame to make your ears burn as you spoke.

“The way I see it,” Yoongi let out a small, humourless chuckle before a smirk settled onto his mouth and his thumb started to rub slow circles into the skin of your hand. “Most people who want something like this to go away,” He shifted closer on the couch and his palm began to glide up your arm. Your eyes shifted to your lap, knowing exactly where he was going with this. “Probably would’ve either stayed away or told me to shove off.”

The fingers of his right hand fluttered past your left shoulder as his shirt brushed the skin of your arm from his leaning closer. Everywhere he touched felt on fire, the soft pads of his fingertips pushing your hair behind your ear and exposing your neck did nothing to help. And then you felt his breath. Warm and flooding your senses enough that you couldn’t hold back a shudder. He chuckled darkly, letting his mouth come so close to your ear that you could feel the ghost of it along the shell. His voice was thick when he spoke, “you didn’t do either, so what exactly do you want?”

Your voice was hardly a whisper, heat beginning to churn inside your belly, “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” He said with a laugh as his fingers grazed over your neck to cup your jaw. Gently, he turned your head so you looked up at him, his nose nearly grazing yours. He was close, so close, and yet never invading your space. Never taking that last step of intrusion without your permission. The city lit up the edges of his hair as he let your breath merely mingle with his own in the last inch of space between you. His thumb stroked your jaw lightly while his dark, hooded, eyes searched yours. “What do you want, Y/N?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, peeking out to wet your lips before swallowing the lump in your throat and saying, “He can’t find out.”

And then his lips were on yours. A mewl catching in your throat as your eyes fluttered closed because finally he was kissing you. Lips pillowed yours while his fingers left your jaw to tangle themselves up in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands flew from your lap to curl into the fabric of his shirt once again, pulling him ever closer. You were the one to swipe your tongue across the seam of his lips, practically begging him to grant you access. A month. One whole month since you felt this much heat pooling between your legs and all the man had done was kiss you, for christ sake.

When Yoongi finally let his tongue slide against yours, you really did mewl, making him chuckle into the kiss. He took the opportunity to explore your mouth, mint painting over your taste buds as one of your hands crawled up his chest to grip his shoulder. When your mouths parted, you leant forward, chasing his lips until a sharp yank of your hair moved you back into place. Seemed Yoongi hadn’t forgotten that you liked a little pain with your pleasure. Lips trailed across your cheek to your jaw as Yoongi made a humming noise, his hand fisting your hair to pull your head back far enough so he had full access to your neck.

“You seem a little wound up.” He remarked smugly before placing a wet kiss just under your jaw.

“N-no marks, Yoongi.” You moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder.

“‘Course not.” He chuckled, letting his lips and tongue glide down the column of your neck, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Teeth grazed your neck, but he did as you asked. “Wouldn’t want him knowing someone else is doing his job better, would we?”

You couldn’t reply, as the hand that wasn’t curled up in your hair grazed the skin of your thigh, inching ever higher. Instead, you let out a breathy exhale, the hand on his shoulder gliding to the nape of his neck. Lips travelled back up to yours, kissing you in slow, sensual pecks that wouldn’t be nearly enough to satiate you and he knew it. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to take the initiative to tangle his tongue with yours, you tried to take control. Leaning as far into him as you could while he still held your hair in a fist, you snaked your tongue out to touch his puffed lips. A chuckle rumbled through his body to yours before he slipped away. His fingers released their hold on you and he shifted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, his left leg tucked to line your thigh while the other dangled off the couch. Heady eyes appraised your tousled appearance, raking over your flushed cheeks to where your fingers were digging into your thighs. With a thoroughly smug smirk, he patted his thigh.

Perhaps the motion should’ve made you annoyed, the implication that you were something akin to a pet more than clear. But instead it merely threw gas on the fire roaring in your belly. Maybe a little too eagerly, you moved so you could straddle him as he stretched his legs out under you. There was no denying the heat that flashed in his eyes as you bunched the fabric of your skirt so you could lower your weight down onto him. The jean material sitting in the crevice where your ass met your leg and just barely covering your core from his eyes. Not that it would be on for much longer if you had it your way. Both hands came to cup his face, tilting it up so you could crush your lips to his. His own digits snuck under your jacket, dragging over the curves of your waist as his tongue slid over yours. One hand slid to the small of your back while the other roughly palmed your breast, making you break the kiss with a hiss. It seemed your breast was only a stop though, his right hand continuing its journey up to push your jacket away from your shoulder. Taking the hint, you leaned back to rid yourself of the coat. Yoongi let his right hand come back to your thigh, skimming his hand back and forth over the length of it, inching higher with each stroke.

Dropping the jacket on the floor unceremoniously, you hastily reattached his lips to yours. As you kissed, your body started to follow the motions, gently rocking on his lap in an effort to encourage his digits to just dip under your skirt already. You huffed in exasperation when the pads of his fingers left your leg completely, feeling him grin impishly into the kiss. His teeth caught your lower lip as his hand began to tug your shirt out from where it was tucked into your skirt. Releasing your lip, he commanded gruffly, “off, Kitten.”

Obeying immediately, you used both hands to peel the loose tee off before depositing it on top of your jacket, your core clenching at the nickname. As soon as you were free of the shirt, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, wrenching you into him. Clutching his shoulders to steady yourself, wet kisses coated your skin from your clavicle to the mounds of your breasts. Cold patches of saliva coating your chest made you shiver when his breath ghosted over them. The digits on your back traced up your spine until they reached their destination, deftly unhooking the clasps of your bra. The straps hung on loosely to your shoulders until Yoongi took it upon himself to slide them down your arms. As soon as they were revealed, Yoongi’s eyes fell heavily onto your breasts. Throwing the bra to the side, his hands clutched your waist as he brought his mouth to a nipple. A tantalized sigh escaped you when his tongue slipped out to flick a pert bud, only to circle it after. Dropping your head back, pleasure bloomed inside you as he teased your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the other. Hands clutched your skirt, forcing it up and over your hips to expose your cloth covered sex. Satisfied with his ministrations, Yoongi pulled back to rest once again against the arm of the couch as his hands slid down to cup your ass. Fingers digging into your cheeks, he guided you into rocking over him, causing you to let out a moan.

“You’re a mess,” he pointed out, arousal heavy in his voice making it rasp in a way that you’d always loved. His words made you clench around nothing, grinding your hips into him for friction that you desperately needed and feeling his bulge through his sweats. “I haven’t even touched you where you really want it and you’re a mess. You’re practically drooling. I bet your panties are soaked.”

It was true, they were. You could feel it every time you rolled your hips, your underwear sliding over your weeping core so it was slick with your juices. His words did nothing to help, each syllable shooting straight to your groin. Pleased with the fucked out nod that you gave him as a reply, one of his hands released your ass, the other coming to your hip to still your movements. Nudging you to support your own weight, you were about to whine in protest when his free hand traced your slit lightly, making the noise die in your throat. With the pace of a snail, Yoongi moved his thumb to press into your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. A shuddered breath escaped you as you stuttered, “Y-Yoongi.”

“What is it, Princess? That desperate already?” He teased, speeding up his thumb every few strokes only to slow down once more. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were practically putty in his hands already. You blamed the weeks of fantasizing about him for it. When you didn’t respond, Yoongi leaned forward to bite at the skin of your breast with a growled demand. “Answer me.”

You were certain he could have felt the way your sex clenched at his rough treatment. Yoongi had always been dominant in the bed, but never like this. Never this vocal. However, it was a welcome change; a new trait of his you were more than pleased to discover, though a little curious as to what brought it on. Swirling your hips in an effort to get more friction from his touch, you let out a whispered “yes.”

“Good.” He hummed, fingers flicking your underwear to the side so he could finally touch you. His index ran along the length of your slit, to collect your juices. Pulling the finger back to gaze at the slickness that now coated the digit, he questioned, “how long has it been since you were this wet?”

You nearly groaned when he brought the finger to his mouth, sucking the traces of you off his skin. “A month.”

Popping the finger out of his mouth, he gave you a delighted laugh. “That so? Boyfriend can’t seem to get you going?”

“Not like you.” Your answer was immediate, leaning over to peck him softly as your hands strayed to the edge of his shirt that had ridden up from when you’d rocked over him. You moved your mouth to his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his stomach.

He hummed in approval, letting his head fall to the side to give your wandering lips more room. When he spoke, you could feel the rumble of his voice against your lips, “Good answer.”

Sliding his hand back to your core, he swiped his thumb over you, capturing some of the moisture before returning it to your clit. Much to your relief, he had deigned to reward you with a steady circular rhythm that instantly had you gasping into his neck. When his middle finger delved inside you, you couldn’t keep your nails from digging into his abdomen. Pleasure bloomed inside of you as he dragged the finger across your walls and out before inserting it again. Moans left your lips in encouragement, muffled as you sucked at his neck. Sure, he wasn’t allowed to mark you, but there were no rules against marring his skin. Your hands explored the expanse of his chest, nails digging in every few thrusts and pushing the shirt up higher. When he inserted another finger, you keened and dragged your nails from his sternum to his pelvis hard enough to make him hiss, though he didn’t stop you. Slowly but surely, your hips began to rock in tandem with his hand, the thumb on your clit now only making contact when you rolled down onto his hand. Yoongi curled his fingers inside you and you shook, rolling down harder as your walls spasmed. Unable to focus on anything other than his fingers, your lips ceased their onslaught on his neck to bury your forehead there instead, heat consistently rolling through you. With every push of your hips you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to completion, your movements gradually getting rougher as you desperately chased it.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Yoongi groaned, “look at you go.”

His words spurred you to lift your face from his neck to see what he meant. Uncurling from your tucked position, you felt a spurt of pride when you noticed the way the milky skin of his neck was splattered with red, some spots dark enough that you were sure they’d form a bruise. Eyes crawling down to where his hand was buried inside you, you realized that at some point when you’d begun to lose yourself to the pleasure, Yoongi had stopped stroking your walls. Evidently, your rocking had been hard enough that he’d had to lower you down until his hand was resting against his own pelvis, stagnant. Embarrassment made your hips stutter when it dawned on you that you’d been using his hand like a toy.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, the hand on your hip squeezing almost painfully as it encouraged you to continue rutting against him. The pull and push of his hand, eased you back into motion, his eyes locked on where your center swallowed his hand. When he was sure you’d continue without his help, the hand on your hip trailed up to cup your breast, tweaking the nipple under his thumb. The only movement from the hand inside of you was a gentle curl that accompanied each thrust of your hips and made the tension in your lower abdomen begin to mount. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers, Princess.”

Below you, you could feel how hard Yoongi was. His thick length brushing against your inner thigh in a way that you knew couldn’t be satisfying for him, though he couldn’t seem to care less. You ached to touch him, make him feel even a modicum of the pleasure he was so effortlessly pulling from you. But with the position you were in, it was impossible. So instead you clutched the hand that was gripping your breast and brought it to your lips, Yoongi’s eyes watching you curiously as you did so. Pushing his index and middle finger together, you wrapped your mouth around them and swirled your tongue around them as though his digits were a much different part of his body. Satisfaction made you suck when you heard the barely there moan that escaped his chest at the motion. Shallowly, Yoongi began to thrust his fingers into your warm mouth.

“Shit, you really are desperate for me aren’t you?” He remarked, an amused mask cast over his features, but you could see the lust underlining his irises. Instead of answering verbally, you merely sucked, coaxing his fingers deeper into your mouth. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as his fingers in your core began to move again as a reward. “He really must not be taking very good care of you. Or at least not like I do.”

There was just enough insecurity in his voice for you to catch it, though Yoongi stamped out any chance for you to soothe it by clamping his fingers in your mouth down to trap your tongue while the ones buried in your heat began a brutal pace.

“Bet I can make you feel better with my fingers than he ever could with his dick.” Yoongi’s mouth tilted into a wicked grin at his own challenge. You already have, you wanted to say, but the fingers holding your tongue down and the spasming in your core morphed it into a strangled moan. The tension in your belly was taut now, threatening to snap with any plunge of his fingers. When he scissored his fingers inside you, you knew you were gone. The deep rasp of his voice in your ears breaking the floodgate when he said, “C’mon, Kitten. Cum for me.”

A tidal wave of pleasure lit up your nerves like a christmas tree. The intensity of it made your body curl in on itself as your hands clamped down on Yoongi to keep yourself steady. Hips stuttering, you rode out the waves as Yoongi’s fingers in your mouth slithered out, a lewd string of saliva strung from his fingertips to your lips. As your movements slowed, so did Yoongi’s, until he gently pulled his hand away from your mound. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you watched as Yoongi spread his fingers in the soft light of his apartment. Traces of you coated his digits, shining when they caught they caught the light as he brought them to his mouth. Hooded eyes locked with yours as he cleaned his fingers of your essence and despite the orgasm you’d just had, you felt your sex clench greedily.

Leaning forward, you pulled his fingers from his mouth so you were free to capture his lips with your own. Releasing his wrist, you rested a hand on his shoulder as the other snaked down his body. When you finally reached your desired destinations, you squeezed through the fabric he still wore. Yoongi broke the kiss to let out a breath, warming your lips as you cupped him through his sweats, the length of his dick solid under your touch. Eager to return the favour, your hand slipped under the bands of his clothes, taking him in hand and relishing in the feel of the contact. Trailing your lips to his throat, you pumped him, a soft groan rumbling under your kiss. You didn’t mark him any more, merely brushing across the marks on him before delving further. Truth be told, you were frustrated that he’d opted to keep his shirt on for the time being, aching to see and feel the skin hidden by it under your lips. You didn’t let it distract you though, shimmying down his body and positioning yourself so that you straddled one of his legs while the one that was closest to the edge of the couch moved so his foot was flat on the floor. Once you were settled, you tugged on his bottoms. Lifting his hips, he let you tug them down just enough that his erection could escape.

Keeping your eyes on him, you curled over to place a chaste kiss on the tip, the slow strokes of your hand never ceasing. You saw him try and fail to hide a shudder, evidently hesitant to show that you had just as much of an effect on him as he had on you. Resting your hand on the base, you kissed down his hard length. He cast an annoyed look, which made you smile. You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, dragging it up the underside of his cock before taking the tip on your mouth. Sucking lightly, you tasted the first hint of precum on your tongue and hummed, watching as Yoongi’s eyelids drooped with pleasure. Never did you think you’d miss the taste of someone's cum, and yet here you were. The desire to him surged inside you as you took him into your mouth, your hand sweeping over the inches you couldn’t yet reach. Yoongi gathered your hair in his hand, swirling it so it made a coil that wound around his grip to keep it from impeding your efforts. Resting the hand on the back of your head, he urged you further down his length with every bob of your head. The sound of slurping echoed in the apartment as you did your best to pleasure him in all the ways you remembered him liking. Taking a breath through your nose, you let your hand fall to his balls, cupping and massaging at them. Yoongi’s jaw fell so his mouth hung slightly open when you sucked him down until his tip hit the back of your throat. His grip in your hair tightening as he muttered “shit.”

           The reaction made your stomach clench, rekindling the arousal between your legs. Sliding back up, your saliva coated his dick, the veins bulging just beneath the skin. Diving back down, you took him as far as you could, your free hand gripping his shirt in as you fought the urge to gag. He let out a small groan, his hand holding your head in place. Swallowing around him, he couldn’t keep his hips from jerking upward, tears springing in your eyes but you remained still.

“Fuck, I forgot how good at this you are.” Your lower half grinded over his leg in an effort to ease the tension that had built up in your core again as your heart swelled with pride from his praise. Easing up only a little to take a breath, you lowered even further, only stopping when the tip of your nose touched the skin of his groin. The moan you let out around him made Yoongi tipped his head back, relishing in the constriction of your throat on him and the feel of you rubbing yourself against him. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you struggled to not gag with him so far down your throat, failing once or twice. Though Yoongi didn’t mind, in fact he seemed to get off on it, a murmur of “good girl” falling from his lips each time. When the pressure became too much, you eased up once again, inhaling deeply. As soon as you went to take him in again though, the hand gripping your hair held you back. Brows furrowed in confusion, you fixed him with a questioning look as he sat up, dragging you up into a sitting position in the process. Yanking your head back to kiss a line up to your throat, he mumbled “I’d rather cum doing something else.”

A chill skittered down your spine, letting him push you around like a toy as he maneuvered you how he wanted. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he moved you to straddle him once again, lifting his leg that brushed the floor so it was once again on the couch. Holding you tightly, your chest was crushed to his, each breath making your breasts push against him. Weaseling a hand down in between you, you keened when he grabbed the base of his dick and ran the tip along your folds, quickly moving yourself to pull your panties to the side for better access. You were so wet again that you heard the slippery sounds of his head being coated in your juices. When he rimmed your opening, your head clouded with lust, desperation coursing through your veins and causing words to tumble past your lips without so much as a second thought. “Yoongi, please just fuck me.”

“Hm,” he hummed, holding you up so that you couldn’t sink down on him like you wanted. A smirk toyed at the edges of his mouth again as he admonished, “I think you can beg a little better than that.”

“Please,” Surely, you thought, this counts as some form of torture. A gasp escaped you when he let the tip of his length delve into you and proceeded to hold it there as words started to babble from your mouth. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a whole month. You make me feel so good, Yoongi. I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me on that stupid chair and how much I just want you to do it again, how much I just want to feel you inside me again. I want you to stretch me out, fill me up, and make it so you have to carry me home. Please.”

“Much better.” His praise is accentuated by his length finally slipping the rest of the way inside of you, finding little resistance from how wet you were.

A pleased sigh left your mouth as his now free hand swatted yours away from your underwear to hold it to the side himself, thumb hooking into the material and pinning it to where he gripped your thigh. The hand that was slithered around your waist fell to your hip as he leaned back, letting you move to start rocking on him. There was no denying how he made you feel. You hadn’t been lying when you’d begged. The proof being in how perfectly he filled you and how you’d hardly moved at all yet you already felt your walls pulsating around him, begging for the feeling only he seemed to be able to give you. You never felt like this when you had sex with Woojin, or anyone else for that matter, and the admission of that frustrated you. What if staying with Woojin was the mistake and not this?

It’s only sex for right now, you reminded yourself, picking up the pace as though to prove it to yourself. Focusing on how Yoongi’s dick stroked your walls in an effort to will away your thoughts, it was almost as if the man below you knew your thoughts were straying. He bent his legs under you to prop his heels against the seat cushion before drilling upward to match your thrusts, effectively whisking away any thoughts that weren’t about him. Your mouth gaped and you tilted your head back, feeling the coil in your stomach getting ever tighter. Apparently, he felt it too, immediately wrenching you off him when it felt on the verge of snapping.

The groan of frustration you gurgled out was cut short by him muttering gruffly, “Stand up.”

Without protest, you shifted your shaking legs to stand. Yoongi moved to sit before you, his hands groped up the back of your thighs until they met your ass. Kneading your cheeks roughly, he tipped forward. Your hand curled in his hair when his tongue peeked out to glide over the skin of your lower stomach in a wet kiss, punctuated by his teeth nipping at your hip. Unceremoniously, he yanked your panties down before standing. Stepping out of the fabric, you flung them to the side with your toe as Yoongi’s mouth met yours, his hands gripping your hips. Your tongues danced as you felt Yoongi pivot the both of you so you now had your back to the couch. Pulling away from the kiss with a nibble at your lower lip, he turned you abruptly. The silken skin of his cock brushed against your ass, the leftovers of your sticky fluids transferring from him to you. Lips brushed against your ear as a hand traveled up your curves to rest against the top of your spine as he all but growled, “bend over.”

He hardly gave you the chance to obey, his palm pressing into your spine to tilt you forward. Bracing yourself by gripping the top of the couch with your elbows bent so your back was nearly level, the hand on your spine slithered to your head. Fingers gathered your hair in a fist and yanked it toward him like a leash, forcing your head to pull back, your spine to bend, and your ass to push into him with a hiss. At the sound of your pain, the hand loosened to your own dismay.

“Too much?” You immediately shook your head ‘no’. There was no doubting the pleased note in his voice as his grip tightened again to pull on the strands of your hair and he replied, “good girl.”

A foot nudged in between yours, edging your feet outward to spread your legs for him. Guiding himself to your entrance, he thrust himself inside you. His free hand gripped your hip, blunt nails digging into the skin as he pulled back and thrust himself back in with a resounding snap of his hips. The pace he set picked up right from where you’d left off instead of building up. Your shrill cry of pleasure echoed in the apartment, the new angle allowing him to hit deep with each push of his hips. The force of his movements jostled your body, the strength causing your breasts to sway underneath you. The feel of cotton brushed against your spine as Yoongi’s body curled over yours. His dick was filling you in the way you had only felt when you were with him, your brain reduced to mush as he pushed you more toward the couch with every thrust until your arms were bent and the only thing keeping your head from falling into the top of the couch was the grip on your hair. Your jaw hung open, moans and mewls escaping your lungs as you pushed backwards to match his rhythm. You were close, nearly letting out a sob when his pace slowed.

“Tell me,” his breath fanned against your ear, your mind swirling with pleasure. His words were slightly laboured, most of his effort going toward plowing you into the couch. “How many times have you thought of me when you were with him?”

“Before the party?” You replied, breathlessly. “Never.”

“And after?”

You didn’t have the capacity to feel embarrassed at the moment. “Every time.”

At your admission his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor and you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied at the fact that Min Yoongi was jealous. Pain tingled at your scalp as Yoongi pulled on your hair, forcing you to follow as he tilted up, causing your arms to straighten. Fingers trailed up your stomach, briefly pausing to palm your breast before travelling further upward until they reached your neck. Digits gripped your throat, his forearm finding its home in the valley of your breasts making you feel the way the muscles tensed when he tightened his grip to limit your breathing. A moan was caught by his hand, the sound coming out choked and gurgling. Yoongi pressed his forehead into your shoulder, a grunt pushing past his lips when your walls began to contract tellingly. With a few more thrusts, you came undone.

A moan rumbled against your back, your legs trembling as ecstasy crashed over your body, the pressure at your neck heightening it. Your vision became spotty as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your veins. Velvet walls spasmed around Yoongi, his hips stuttering at the sensation, though continuing to guide you through your orgasm. When a faint feeling began to fog your mind, you reached up to tap Yoongi’s hand. Immediately he released your neck and you gasped in a gulp of air, the sopping sounds of Yoongi pistoning into you rang in your ears as he desperately chased his own end. With a few more snaps of his hips and a harsh grope of your breast, Yoongi finished. A groan of pleasure hung in the air as he hastily pulled out, painting your back with ropes of white. He shifted a hand to stroke himself, riding out his high. A piece of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t want to cum inside of you like last time. In the back of your mind, you had to wonder if this was him drawing a line and if it was for his sake or yours. As the last of his orgasm dribbled out, he released a breath of hot air that you felt faintly caress your shoulder before wrapping his free arm around your stomach. For a moment the both of you were silent, exhaustion making your chests heave while your bodies began to cool, his cum making goosebumps rise on your skin as it began to dry.

“Was that okay?” Yoongi asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft as he spoke, a stark contrast from earlier. “Not too rough?”

You brought one hand away from the couch to rub at the arm that encased you, “it was more than okay.”

His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “Good, you always were kinky but I thought I’d check.”

Changing your tune, you slapped his arm. “I’m kinky?! What does that make you?”

Yoongi struggled to keep the giggle from his voice when he pinched your side and quipped, “a willing and considerate partner.”

Feeling your legs beginning to shake, Yoongi sighed and pulled away from you, releasing your body from his hold as silence fell over the room once again. You did your best to stay upright, only faltering a little before your legs remembered that they were, in fact, not Jell-o. Your hands ached when you finally released the other from its hold on the back of the couch and stood up straight. You hoped that your vice grip hadn’t done any damage to the material. A shuffling of fabric could be heard behind you and you turned your head to peer at Yoongi as he walked across the living room to the washroom. Collecting your clothes off the floor, a twang of regret pulled at your heart that you hadn’t been able to see his body as you’d fucked. However, it was quickly snuffed out by surprise when you caught yourself thinking, there’s always next time. You mentally began to prepare yourself, remembering how sick you’d felt after you’d last had sex with Yoongi, and even Woojin for that matter. For over a month you’d felt disgusting after having sex and now, when by all means you should feel that way, you didn’t. Even with the thick rivulets of cum from someone who was most definitely not your boyfriend slowly dripping down your spine. But why?

Your contemplation was interrupted as Yoongi gently placed a hand on your shoulder, a slightly worried look on his face as he bit his lip and turned you to wipe his cum off of your back with a rag he had gotten. Scratching the back of his head, he nodded toward the other side of the living room.

“There’s a bathroom there if you want to get cleaned up. I have clothes you can wear…”

You knew what the unspoken question was in that statement and as much as you wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, you couldn’t. “I should probably go back home.”

He nodded, unsurprised by your answer. “Yeah, I guess he’ll be waiting for you, hey?”

           “Yeah.”

           He was silent and you felt a stab of self-consciousness now that the heat had been taken out of the room. Glaringly aware that you were standing naked in his apartment you held your jacket to your chest so it at least partially covered your body. “At least let me make you something to eat before you go. There wasn’t much left at Luna’s after the guys dug in.”

           Lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes you crushed to your chest, you shot him a soft smile. “I’d like that.”

Nodding, he turned and shuffled toward the kitchen as you made your way to his bathroom. Flicking on the light and closing the door, you quickly began to attempt to make yourself presentable. Sliding your skirt and bra on, you decided to forego the panties that you shoved into your jacket pocket. Your hair was the worst of it, thoroughly mussed from Yoongi’s hands. When you did your best to smooth it down, you couldn’t help but notice that the follicles felt sore, though you didn’t actually mind much. The reward of his roughness was most definitely worth the pain you felt between your legs and where his hands had handled you. Once you were satisfied with your appearance you exited the bathroom, a savory aroma wafting to your nose.

“Ramen?” You asked, coming to stand beside him at the stove.

A grin made his lips turn upward as he stirred the noodles in the pot, remarking, “only the best for my hook-ups.”

“Oh.” You deadpanned, a flare of jealousy licking at your insides. “So, I’m not the only one coming around then.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckled. “Not that you really have a right to complain here.”

That made you frown guiltily. “I-I guess you’re right.”

Noticing your sullen expression, he started to backpedal, “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“No,” you shook your head before tilting it to lean on his shoulder to stop him from thinking he’d upset you. “I mean you really are right. I pretty much told you I’m not going to stop what I’m doing so it’s not fair for me to expect you to.”

He hummed, his features screwed up in thought. “Then, what happens now? I’d rather not wait another month before seeing you again.”

“Me either, honestly. We do whatever we both feel comfortable with, I suppose.”  You could feel the tension melt from Yoongi’s frame, though your own seemed to bask in it. Anxiety chewed at your soul, despite what you said, at the thought of this all blowing up in your face, but you still didn’t want to let this pass by. Deep down you knew that if you did, you would never stand a chance at ever letting Yoongi go with a million ‘what if’s’ taking residence in your head. Sensing your thoughts running rampant, a hand glided to rub at the small of your back as a sweet distraction. A small sigh left you as your head fell to his chest and his arm coaxed you to press your body into his. “Just like you said on the roof, I want to explore this.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, nodding. “So, let’s say I asked if you’d kiss me right now. How comfortable are we feeling with that?”

An amused giggle escaped your lips, craning your neck to look up at him. “So comfortable that I just might say yes.”

Pushing yourself up onto your tippy toes, you slanted your mouth against his. The kiss was soft, lips welcoming one another as old friends and sending a warm feeling through your chest. Your fingers crawled up to rest your palm against his sternum as you pecked him for a second, third, and fourth time. Pressing circles into his chest with your thumb, you broke the kiss to brush your lips against his cheek before falling to the flats of your feet. Turning his attention back to cooking, he waited a few more moments before shutting off the burner.

“Go sit.” He said, jerking his head toward the breakfast bar at the kitchen island.

You nodded obediently, extracting yourself from his warmth to slide onto one of the barstools. Yoongi grabbed two bowls and filled them, rounding the island to place one in front of you before plopping down onto the stool beside you with his own. Motioning for you to dig in he watched as you blew on the scalding meal, biding his time until you’d shoveled in a couple mouthfuls before saying. “You are, by the way. The only one.”

You coughed on the hot soup, his laughter echoing in the room as he pat your back and your cheeks warmed. Swallowing the mouthful, you shot him a glare. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” He admitted, a playful, content smile on his face which stayed there for the rest of the night.