7

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

Like free backstage access, free ticket to any and every concert your heart desires, being flown around the world to see him just because he “missed you”, the sure notion that you’d be going home with him every time, and unlimited access to his members.

Day two of D-DAY The Final was coming to an end, the last encore of the night was ringing loudly in your ears as you waited for Yoongi to be done with his set tonight. Seoul had never felt hotter than it did this past week, summer in full swing, and it was made even worse by the very hot man blowing off the roof of the KSPO Dome for hundreds of thousands of fans. 

You were holding onto a cold water bottle, sipping from the straw poked on the lid, the kind reserved for the artists performing, no doubt being sent to you by Yoongi himself. Unless the staff girl who delivered it to you had suddenly developed a liking to you, when just this morning she’d be sending you glares during the first, private, soundcheck. 

“I was so embarrassed, like, right at the beginning of the song?” Jungkook had his eyes closed and a light blush on his tanned cheeks. “There's someone in the mirror that you don't know– I didn’t remember any of it.” 

“ARMY was just happy to see you, Kookie, they didn’t even notice it, I promise.” you assured the man, reaching out to squeeze his arm in support. “You were still incredible last night.” 

“I wanted to do it again tonight, to redeem myself, but hyung said no.” the man had a sheepish bunny smile on his lips, leaning just a little closer to you as the screams outside grew louder. 

“Tonight was Jiminie’s turn, but maybe tomorrow?” you offered, watching him shrug in response. 

You were both backstage, where you’d usually stay during concerts that took place in Korea, using one of the storage boxes as a perch. Your feet didn’t really touch the ground from here, legs swinging in the rhythm of the song playing, while Jungkook was standing up next to your knees. 

You and Yoongi had a few almost-getting-caught scares in the past, where some fans recognized your face and thought it was weird that you were a recurring guest at BTS concerts, going as far as speculating if you were one of the members’ secret girlfriend. You made it to the Dispatch twitter feed once and it was enough for Yoongi to grow protective; either of you, or his own image, you didn’t know. 

For this very reason, you usually stayed with the crew, watching from the smaller TV screens instead of mingling in the crowd or reserved VIP seats. 

Jungkook had the option of watching it from the bleachers tonight, too, where Jimin and a few other close guests were, but he decided to keep you company. Out of all of the members, the maknae was the one to go out of his way to keep you entertained, strike up a conversation and just be pleasant whenever you saw each other. The other five were always polite and you didn’t think any of them frowned upon your arrangement with Yoongi, but Jungkook was always the nicest. 

Maybe it was because of his overall friendly and gentle personality, maybe it was because of the crush he held that you pretended not to know about. 

“I’m glad you weren’t here last night.” he chuckled, bringing your eyes from the TV where Yoongi was dancing while introducing his band and back to the young man in front of you. “I would have been mortified if you had seen that.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him you watched the concert stream from your home, so you did catch Jungkook’s tiny mess up when he joined Yoongi for the very special performance of Burn It. Instead, you went with: “Oh, I’m sure it was much worse in your head! I wouldn’t even have noticed it.” 

“You’re too nice, noona.” he beamed, hugging his torso by crossing his arms. 

“I am sad I missed the performance of Seven, though.” you continued, watching his face light up. “I really like that song, you know?” 

“Ah, thanks.” his smile turned a little shy, a pretty chuckle slipping from his pierced lips. 

When the final notes of The Last –a truly heartbreaking song that made your heart clench every time you heard it– filled the space, both you and Jungkook turned to the entrance of the backstage area, where staff were already pulling on the curtains and lighting flashlights to illuminate the path. 

Yoongi was dripping in sweat when he appeared, heavy curtains being closed once again, keeping him safe from the public’s view. You could tell, even from far away, that his body was buzzing with adrenaline, hand constantly pushing his hair back; as if he hadn’t done enough of it all night. 

Not that you were complaining, far from it. Yoongi looked stunning at all times, but there was something about his concert afterglow, almost as ethereal as how he looked after a good orgasm. 

His team was all over him in a second, girls dabbing a clean white towel to dry his sweat, someone else offering him a water bottle that looked exactly like yours, a staff reaching into the back of his shirt to pull out the cords of his earpiece and remove his mic pack. 

Only after bowing and waving them off, Yoongi looked around, just like you knew he would. He was nibbling on the inside of his lips, eyebrows kissing as he searched for something. 

As he searched for you. 

Because you never made it easy for him, you never rushed out to find him, and he knew that. It was bad enough people around knew what you were to each other, knew you were only there to take away Yoongi’s pent up energy, but you’d be sent on your way home at the end of the night. 

You didn’t need to be known as the clingy fuck buddy that didn’t know her place. 

But it never took Yoongi too long to find you, and your stomach was swarmed with red colored butterflies every time he did. 

“Get the car ready.” Yoongi told his manager, eyes stuck on you as he gave out the order. “Gonna make my way out right now. Just give me a minute.” 

“Sure, Yoongi-ssi. Good job tonight.” the man bowed and pulled out a radio device from his pocket, walking away as he relayed the information: “Car one, on the ready. Standby–”

Yoongi was a man on a mission as he walked up to you, your face breaking into the prettiest smile as you saw him see you. You were so fucking pretty tonight, it was as if you didn’t want him to hold off long enough to get out of the venue. Your pretty black dress had been a present from Yoongi himself, brought to you from his latest trip to Japan, and it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing it. 

Because the teasing mirror selcas you took when you received the package didn’t count. Not by a long shot. Your breasts looked a lot softer in person, the bit of shimmer he could see covering the perfectly round mounds could be either from sweat, despite the AC working hard to keep the backstage cool, or from whatever lotion you liked to apply that made your skin smell and look so good. 

You were temptation on legs, the kind Yoongi couldn’t resist. He hadn’t for years now, wasn’t about to start, either. 

Breaking his tunnel vision, a wider frame blocked Yoongi’s view of you. Wide chest and tattoos making Yoongi falter, stance almost breaking as Jungkook opened his arms to hug him. 

“Hyung! You were so cool up there!” the maknae clinged to him, obviously not minding his sweaty shirt clinging to his chest. “Are you feeling better?”

Yoongi hadn’t seen Jungkook in the VIP area, alongside Jimin and his friends that came to watch the concert tonight, he didn’t even know the youngling would be here tonight. Had Jungkook been backstage all night? With you? Looking like that?

“Thanks, Kook-ah.” he patted the man on the back, gently pushing him off to break the hug. “I’m fine, about to crash.” 

“Hey.” you were greeting, still seated behind Jungkook, making Yoongi step around him to finally get to you. 

Your sweet smile was still there even Yoongi held both sides of your face in his slightly trembling hands to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands held onto his shirt, squeezing and tugging him closer. And Yoongi wanted nothing more than to lick into your mouth, slip his hand to the back of your neck and show everyone just who would be taking you home tonight. 

But you were the one to break the kiss, looking down as if you were shy –which was weird enough, as you were never shy with him–, but then your eyes looked at a spot behind Yoongi’s shoulder, where Jungkook was very much watching the exchange, despite pretending he wasn’t bothered by it. 

It made Yoongi frown, a small twist in his guts and the picking up of his already haywire heart sitting uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Come.” Yoongi called to you, offering you his hand, being thankful when you took it without hesitation. You jumped from your spot on the equipment box, letting Yoongi keep you by his side. Turning to Jungkook, he checked: “You’re leaving now, too? Or are you going with Jimin?” 

Yoongi started to walk, bringing you along and Jungkook got into step with the two of you, on Yoongi’s other side. With a small shake of his head, the maknae spoke:

“Jimin hyung already left, but I think my car is already waiting too.” 

“Good, get home safe.” Yoongi patted the boy on his back, adding: “Sleep so that you can heal from that cough. Don’t go drinking and turning on a live.” 

“I like his random lives.” you giggled, short legs forcing you to almost skip in order to keep up with the two of them. 

“Don’t enable him, kitten.” Yoongi sent you a look, but you only grinned harder. 

The path had been cleared out for the artist to exit the venue as quickly as possible. The longer he took, the more fans would be leaving the KSPO, the more difficult it would be for a swift getaway; not to mention all the traffic and reporters that could most likely follow. 

Two cars were already waiting right by the backstage garage and Jungkook was led into the closest one first. Yoongi was already pulling you to the car in front of it, the one that was assigned to him, when Jungkook’s calling made you stop. 

“Noona, I’ll text you about that coffee, okay?” the way Jungkook avoided looking at Yoongi wasn’t lost on the rapper. 

“Looking forward to it!” was your small reply as you waved. 

Yoongi gave your hand a little squeeze, your cue to hurry up. You never knew who could be lurking in underground garages afterall, so you bowed your head to avoid hitting it on the roof of the car and stepped in. Yoongi was right behind you, the door being shut right away. Two taps to the roof of the vehicle has the driver turning it on and quickly exiting the venue. 

“What was that about coffee?” Yoongi asked you, not bothering to put on his seatbelt as he let his body mold into the cool backseat. “Are you sharing recipes now?”

“Ah, no. He mentioned wanting to take me out for coffee and asked for my number.” you replied, hoping Yoongi wouldn’t be bothered by it. One of his eyes parted to look at you, an unreadable expression crossing his face. 

“And you said yes?” 

You shrugged a little, licking between your lips. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?” 

“Guess not.” Yoongi offered you a tight lipped smile, but yours faltered. 

This was one of the things that really bothered you in this arrangement you had going on with Yoongi. The blindness of this man when it comes to your own feelings. You couldn’t even really blame him for it, when you knew what you were getting yourself into from the start. You knew right away Yoongi didn’t like relationships, he was much too chill to look for labels, to make himself stuck with one person when he was already too busy for his own liking. 

And you were okay with that for a long while, you were still okay with this, or you would have put a stop to it any time he called you for a late night or middle of the day booty call. But sometimes you looked at him and your heart did a thing. That’s when it was a little harder to swallow down the lump in your throat and accept that this is all you would ever be to him, until the day his someone special came along. 

Someone you knew he couldn’t say no to, someone who wouldn’t settle for less, someone so incredible they might take Yoongi’s heart. 

Or until your someone showed up in your life. 

You hoped for that to happen first. 

Maybe with Jungkook. 

You watched with a heavy heart as Yoongi reached for the air conditioning controls in the panel of the door on his side to make the backseat all the cooler. 

“It was really hot today, wasn’t it?” you changed the subject swiftly. 

“Fuck yeah, and the lights don’t make it better.” Yoongi chuckled in that raspy way of his and you were gone. Making home in his back pocket, fitting on the palm of his hand, wrapping yourself around his pinky finger. “I was dripping out there.” 

“So was I.” you offered him a little smirk as his eyes met yours, lowering as he watched you bite your bottom lip. “You looked really hot.” 

“Liked what you saw?” he drawed out, leaning closer to you, pushing your hair away from your neck to replace it with his lips. 

“Very much.” you tilted your head to the side, sighing in bliss as he kissed all over your heated skin. “Why don’t you check?” 

Yoongi’s laugh was raspy from the hours of using his voice, sending tingles all over you as you gently pried your legs open in an invitation. His hand found your thigh, no hesitation or concerns about the fact that this car didn’t have any partition, so all it would take was one look at the rearview mirror for the driver to see Yoongi cupping your cunt. 

Upon finding the wetness you could feel all night, Yoongi’s teeth sunk in on your neck, holding his bite until he was sure he’d leave a mark. You moaned as quietly as you could, gasping as his tongue licked the spot to soothe the ache. 

“Guess the concert was really good.” he spoke quietly, more for himself, dragging his middle finger up and down your damp underwear. 

“You were growling a lot.” you admitted, hands on the edge of the bench as you used it to ground yourself. “And your chain during the second half–”

“What about it, kitten?” Yoongi wanted to know, drawing circles right above your clit. 

“It–it looked like a collar on a leash.” you couldn’t help the small rocking of your hips as you tried to chase after his touch when Yoongi moved his hand away. 

“I asked to keep it.” the man said as you blinked heavily enough to make your brain work a little faster again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long, metal chain. “I asked because I knew you’d like it.” 

“Oh my god.” you let out a tiny giggle as Yoongi held the jewelry up for you to see. “Can I see it?” 

“It’s yours, kitten.” 

There was a silly, bubbling feeling making your stomach hot and cold at the same time. Yoongi dragged the chain on your naked thigh, sending goosebumps all over your legs as you felt the weight and the coldness of it. He let you take it from his hand, let you see all of the heavy links making up the whole body of the chain. You could see the small, circular ring in the middle, clasping it closed so it would make the same shape it did around Yoongi’s neck earlier. You had a few necklaces like these, reminding you of a leash more than an actual piece of jewelry, but they were a lot more delicate and thin than this. 

Lifting it up to your nose, you breathed in Yoongi’s natural musk, as it was covered in his sweat, and his favorite perfume. Masculine, but never overbearing. Your favorite smell in the whole world. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” you smiled at him, keeping the chain in your hold even as the car moved past Yoongi’s gate. 

The Hannam-dong area was a lot more lavish than your own neighborhood, quiet and made up of homes and apartment complexes you would never be able to afford, even if your modeling agency decided to pay what you believed you deserved. 

Somehow, it matched Yoongi perfectly. That quiet, unobtainable life that reminded you so much of himself. 

Yoongi got out of the car as soon as it was parked in front of the entrance of his building, holding the door open for you to do the same. His driver was already rushing to the booth to retrieve Yoongi’s backpack, where his own clothes, phone and personal belongings were stored and placed in the car ready for his exit. 

“Should I wait for you, sir?” the man asked, but what he really meant was ‘should I wait for you to be done?’. 

It didn’t bother you that he knew the nature of your visit, but the way the driver didn’t directly speak to you, or even look at your face, irked you every time. 

“That won’t be necessary, you can go home.” Yoongi told him simply, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Jeong.” 

“Goodnight, sir.” he bowed to his employer and you didn’t even try to say goodbye. 

Yoongi noticed how quiet you got, how could he not? He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it, honest and earning eyes making sure you knew he was all that mattered, all you should focus on. And you would gladly do it, too. 

With an arm around your waist, Yoongi led you into the building, past security and into the elevator. You could see the adrenaline was slowly moving away and leaving him; you knew what was coming next, already wondering what kind of food he’d order for dinner. 

“Will you really make Mr. Jeong leave his bed when it's time to drive me home?” you asked Yoongi while the elevator took you up to the third floor of the short building. “Not that I mind too much, but he already doesn’t like me.” 

You were perfectly fine taking a cab or a general paid ride, but Yoongi never liked that, always preferring that his driver take you home. It was a safer option, privacy and all that. 

But then he spoke words you never thought you’d hear from him:

“You’re not going home tonight.” Yoongi shrugged, as if it was a common occurrence, having you stay over. “Is that okay?” 

“You never ask me to stay the night.” you babbled, walking out of the elevator to wait in the hallway as he unlocked his front door. 

“We’ve spent the night together before, what are you talking about?” Yoongi looked at you as if you were crazy, letting you walk into the apartment first. 

You scoffed, taking your shoes off by the door as Yoongi did the same after turning on the main lights and locking the door after himself. 

“Yeah, when we’re out of town.” you pointed out. “At hotels, or rented places. Not when we’re here and I have a perfectly good home to go back to.” 

“Mhm.” he hummed, as if tracing his memories to find out if what you were saying was right. Before you could move much further down the hallway, Yoongi held you by your waist, taking a step to press you against the closest wall. You sucked in a small breath as his nose bumped against yours. “If that’s true, then it’s about time we change that.” 

You couldn’t help the skyrocketing of your heart at Yoongi’s words. Despite your brain begging you to not believe it, that he was just saying that to get you to melt and turn putty in hold. But it was small moments like these, little things he did or said that made the lines so deeply drawn in the sand to blur. You wouldn't mind getting rid of it altogether. 

Yoongi’s teeth nibbled on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth to suck on. Your hand slipped into his hair, wet with a mixture of sweat and hair products. 

"Yoongi–" you sighed blissfully, pressing your body into his as your every nerve ending craved him. 

It was then that the pitter patter of short nails on marble and a small whine, followed by a bark made you pull your lips from Yoongi’s grasp. 

You gasped for a whole different reason, pushing Yoongi away in order to properly look at the tiny dog jumping on his hind legs to greet you and his appa. 

"You didn't tell me you got Holly back!" you chirped, settling on your knees to coo and pet Yoongi's dog as he laid on the floor, showing you his tummy. 

Holly, the brown poodle, had a bit of a shared parenting situation, where he would stay with Yoongi in Seoul whenever he had a work schedule that allowed him to stay in Seoul for a while. The other half of the time, he'd stay in Daegu with Yoongi’s parents, who treated the puppy like a grandson. 

You've met Yoongi’s parents once before, and things weren't as awkward as they could have been, considering. You knew they were in town to watch Yoongi’s concert yesterday, so it didn't surprise you they brought Holly back. 

"Wanted it to be a surprise." Yoongi smiled, melting your insides into goo. "It would be too easy to make you want to stay if you knew he's home." 

You rolled your eyes, which he couldn't see, as if it would ever be hard for Yoongi to convince you to spend the night. 

"Well, now I might just stay the weekend." you bluffed, not really expecting the words to come out of his mouth next. 

"You're welcome to." he simply stated, getting back to his original height after tickling Holly into squirming. 

"Alright, now I'm worried." you chuckled nervously, standing up as well. 

"What?" 

"Why do you want me to stay so much?" you pondered, following him down the hall towards his bedroom. "Am I not gonna be able to walk tomorrow or something?" 

"Oh, shut up." he laughed, pulling you to him by your waist, gluing his front to your back as he dragged you into his room. Walking with a grown man stuck to you was tricky, but you would never complain. "Shower with me." 

"But Holly–" 

"He'll still be here when we're done." he whined, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

It wouldn't need much convincing on his part to get you to agree to shower with him, when you knew exactly what he looked like under the running water of his fancy ass rain shower. 

You dropped your purse and gifted chain on top of Yoongi’s bed on the way to the bathroom, barely missing it on Yoongi’s rush to drag you into it fast enough to lock Holly out. The puppy barked a couple of times before going to find something else to do. 

“Should we order food now so it's here when we're out?” you asked Yoongi as the thought just now crossed your mind. 

“I don't want to have to rush.” Yoongi answered after pondering for a couple of seconds. “Are you too hungry now?”

“No, but I know you.” you mused, crossing your arms. “You have your after concert phases.”

“Phases?” he enquired, tilting his head as he held the hem of his shirt between his fingers. 

“Mhm. First you get horny, which is why you're dragging me into the shower.” you lifted a finger, then another. “And then you get hungry and cranky if you don’t eat right away.”

“I don't get cranky–” he snorted, pulling his shirt off the rest of the way. 

You hadn’t seen Yoongi like this for a couple of weeks, as you were busy with work and he was rehearsing for the last three concerts of his tour. Although, if you were being honest, you’d drool over his body even if you were lucky enough to see him naked everyday. 

Yoongi was gorgeous all over, and he’d put on some very appreciated weight, as he usually did during tours. It meant he was eating well, which would always make you happy when you worried for his well being on the road. His chest muscles were filled up, biceps bulging, and a soft, yet lean, stomach that you planned on kissing and biting before the end of the night. 

“Okay, if you're sure, we can order after the shower.” you settled, knowing the possibility of coming to regret it was very much real. 

“I am.” he assured you, despite you knowing him like the back of your hand. 

Soon after, his pants were joining his shirt on the black marble floor, along with his boxers. You liked the fact that, during his solo concerts, Yoongi didn’t have to wear the protection cups male idols had to use when dancing was involved. To this day, you still remembered laughing about the weird piece when you helped Yoongi undress when he forgot he still had it on.

And, to confirm your theory about Yoongi’s ‘post concert phases’, his cock was very much half hard and hanging long. Phase one was in full force, it seemed. It also explained why he was so impatiently waiting for you to undress, despite already walking into the glass shower stall and turning it on. 

You took your time taking your dress off when you heard: 

“That dress looks really good on you.” Yoongi was eating you with his eyes from behind the shower door, talking a little louder so you’d hear him. 

“Thank you, it was a gift.” you beamed, letting the black piece fall to the floor. 

“Whoever gave it to you has good taste.” he gloated, which made you laugh as you hooked your fingers on the sides of your underwear. 

“Eh, his ego is too big, so don’t tell him I agree.” 

After getting naked, much to Yoongi’s relief, you stepped into the shower, breathing in the steam, feet relaxing after being in uncomfortable shoes for so many hours. Yoongi was already dripping from head to toe, wet hair long and pushed back and away from his infuriatingly handsome face. His eyes were closed as he rubbed soap on his lids to remove his makeup. 

You approached him sheepishly, hands on his sides as you kissed his chest and collarbones. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction at feeling you close, tipping his head back to get rid of the soap on his face so he could look at you. Water splashed on you, and his own body temperature was telling. 

“Isn’t the water too hot for you?” you questioned, continuing to kiss his body as your hands roamed his back and you pressed your fronts together. 

“A little, but that’s how you like it.” he shrugged, wrapping his arms around you and taking a step back so you could both share the water stream. “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect, but you usually complain about it.” you pointed out, linking your hands behind his back, not really planning on letting him go for the time being. 

“Just because it makes me all pink and flushed.” he chuckled, having a little bit of a hard time to reach for his facial soap and squirt some of it on his palms. “But you also like that, so.” 

“I always think you’re cute.” you trailed off, closing your eyes as he started to massage your face with gentle fingers to also remove your makeup. And he always did a much better job than if you did it yourself. 

“So I went from hot to cute in less than an hour?” Yoongi complained with a whine to his tone, making you laugh. 

“You are a man of many faces.” your eyes were still closed as Yoongi moved from your face to massage the water into your scalp, the hot stream relaxing every muscle on your body as it fell freely onto the two of you. “Agust D is hot. Yoongi is cute.” 

The man in question was laughing and you felt it all over you as his chest rumbled and his shoulders were shaking, bringing a smile to your own lips. When you finally opened your eyes, you regretted immensely. Because the way he was looking at you was not the way you look at someone you’re just fucking. 

You hadn’t decided yet if those loving eyes were hurtful or proof that it was okay to hope. You weren’t ready yet to have your heart broken, in case you were painfully wrong, so you had to change it fast. And the way you found to do that, was to bring your hands to his front, dragging them down his stomach. 

Yoongi’s gaze darkened, which was something you were much more used to dealing with. His breathing grew labored in anticipation, forehead pressing against yours as your fingertips reached the short patch of hair and found his erection. 

“You complain I get horny after concerts, but you’re always enabling me,” he groaned as your hand wrapped around his base and you squeezed him lightly. “So, it’s your own fault.” 

“I’m such a horrible person for doing that.” you smiled against his jaw, running your hand up and down his cock, bringing him into fullness. “Should I stop?”

His fingertips pressed harder against your sides, a warning for you to stay where you were, doing exactly what you were doing. Yoongi’s lips searched for and found yours, starting a wet kiss that made your knees tremble. One of his hands left your sides to hold the back of your neck, tongue coaxing your mouth to open and let it in. 

Your lips parted and you chased his tongue with yours. You explored each other’s mouths as if you didn’t have them mapped out at this point, as if you didn’t know what that tongue could do, or how he had a bit of a biting problem when it came to your lips. Yoongi’s kiss always felt like the first kiss all over again, enough to make your heart buzz in your ears and your body respond to it in ways that should be shameful. 

Yoongi took your bottom lip into his mouth, giving it tiny tugs and long sucks, making you moan against his mouth as your hand closed around his tip. 

“You still have that soap?” you asked quietly as you couldn’t properly move your hand with all that water. 

“I always keep a bottle here, in case you come over.” Yoongi nodded, searching for the bottle in question amongst the hair and body products he kept in the ledge of his shower wall. 

“Always prepared.” you giggled, letting go of his cock to offer your palm up to him. 

The soap he poured on your hand was oil-based; a specific kind of lube-like product advertised for these very moments. The bottle was almost empty, definitely less than the last time you saw it, and you hoped he used it on his own, instead of using it with other partners. You didn’t think Yoongi would have the time or the patience to entertain multiple people at the same time, but you would never be brave enough to ask him about it either. 

When you brought your hand back down, the glide up and down his cock was much easier, making Yoongi groan in pleasure and throw his head back, the perfect opportunity for you to kiss his long neck, feeling as he swallowed hard when you closed your fist around his tip again, flicking your wrist a couple of times. 

“Much better.” you mumbled against his neck as you licked and sucked on tiny spots of his shoulder you knew would be covered by his shirt at tomorrow's concert. 

“I’ll say so–” Yoongi agreed breathlessly, hips moving a little faster to fuck himself into your hand. 

Before putting the bottle where it belonged, Yoongi took a bit of product into his own hand, spreading it on his fingers and bringing his arm between your bodies. You were already parting your feet carefully not to slip in the process, but giving Yoongi enough room to slip his hand between your legs. 

“Dunno why I use this,” you could feel the smirk in his tone as two fingers slipped between your folds. “You’re always so wet for me.” 

You had a comeback on the tip of your tongue, you were sure of it. Too bad you couldn’t remember what it was as his fingers kept dragging up and down your folds, just barely grazing your clit before moving lower to tease your little hole. 

Your forehead rested against his shoulder as you held his cock with both hands, working on his shaft as you diligently flicked your wrist just under his tip, using your thumb to spread the lube and the slick dripping out him, circling his velvety head. 

“Fuck, you know just how to touch me–” he cursed lowly, chest almost trembling the more you did what he liked. “Getting me so close, kitten.” 

“I know, it’s my favorite talent.” you smiled to yourself, slipping one hand between his legs to cup his balls. 

“Aw, shit–” 

Seeing as you were playing with the tread keeping him on this earth, Yoongi focused on his own hand between your legs, done with the teasing, bringing the pads of his fingers to your bundle of nerves. Yoongi played with your clit, pulling the hood back, letting the slippery, swollen nub slip between his fingers as he moved them up and down, massaging the sane out of your brain. 

There were a few reasons why his staff didn’t like you, and the fact you couldn’t really control your noises when it came to Yoongi was definitely an easy one to point out. You weren’t ever wailing and yelling bloody murder, but when Yoongi made you feel good, you let him know. The shower water wasn’t enough to muffle your moans, and the man was throbbing and pulsing in your hands from how much he enjoyed hearing your every sound. 

“Oh, please–” you cried out when his fingers moved down again, the tip of one pushing inside your clenching hole. 

“Yeah, kitten?” a rhetorical question, yet you still nodded. Yoongi’s voice was low and borderline immoral as he teased: “Want them inside this tight little pussy?”

“I do…” you mewled, almost losing focus on your own hand movements.  

Yoongi circled your entrance again, tearing out whimpers from you, until you lifted your head to look at him. You knew he never resisted when you looked at him like this; big eyes, wet lashes sticking together, a tiny pout on your lips. It was enough for him to push his digits inside you, just to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw fall slack. 

The stretch was minimal from how aroused you were, how wet you felt all night, and the soap definitely made it even easier for Yoongi to push them as deep as he could. 

“Faster, baby.” he groaned with one swift movement of his hips. “Wanna make a mess on you.”

“You’re so hard.” you mumbled between moans of your own, both hands closing around his thickness and jerking him off faster. 

Your hands moved up and down, tugging and squeezing. When you looked down, between your wet bodies, you saw how his usually pale pink tip was colored red, as if he’d been holding back. You wondered if it was painful and if it was blending with his arousal, making every stroke feel better and better. 

His fingers hooked inside you, the angle just right and practiced, finding your sweet spot with ease. Yoongi’s palm pressed against your clit, rubbing it as his fingers fucked in and out of you fast enough to make your vision blurr and your legs shake. At every upstroke, he hit your g-spot perfectly, close to making you unravel fast. 

Taking you by surprise, Yoongi hooked his free hand on your thigh, lifting it and holding it up, opening you up so that his hand could reach a new angle that made you whimper loudly. One of your hands held onto his shoulder for balance, even if you knew he’d never let you slip. 

It would be so easy for you to bring his cock into your entrance like this, the angle was almost perfect. You were both looking at each other’s hands and Yoongi read your mind as he said: 

“Later, kitten. Wanna take my time when I fuck you later.” 

“But I love your cock so much.” you complained with no real bite. 

“I also know you like my fingers.” he sounded smug, but no lies had been told tonight. “Want you to cum around them first, okay?” 

“Uh-huh–” 

All left for you to do was to agree, you were already so close just from his fingering that you might not have the time to bring him into your pulsating walls. Yoongi focused his efforts into fucking you just right, beautiful knobby fingers working your cunt fast and hard, just as you stroked his cock with as much passion as he was giving you. 

But Yoogi wouldn’t cum before making you unravel, no matter how painfully hard his cock was in your hand. Lucky for him, all it took were the three words delivered to your ear, in that gravely tone of his, to have you coming undone. 

“Cum for me.” 

It wasn’t a request, not even permission, but an order that was easy to obey. You didn’t even have that much control over your actions when Yoongi was commanding your body as well as he was. Your lower stomach tensed and your nails sunk in on his shoulder, gard enough for him to hiss and hold you a little harder. You trembled endlessly as he kept fucking you, guinding you through what you could only describe as a mind blowing orgasm you only ever reached when you were with Yoongi. 

When he gently let your leg go, making sure you wouldn’t lose your balance, your second hand reached for his cock so you could make him cum for you right away. You pumped him up and down, hands covering his tip, then slipping all the way down to his base. Yoongi’s moans were the best thing you heard all night, and after a concert filled with growls, note changes and his fast rap, it was saying something. 

Thick ropes shot out from his flushed tip, hitting part of your chest and your stomach, painting you with his pleasure. There was so much of it coming that you wondered if he even touched himself from the last time you were together. For some irrational reason, you liked that theory, saving it into your heart even if it wasn’t true. 

“Fuck, how do you always do that?” Yoongi moved his fingers out of your pussy, holding you by the ribs to press your body flush against his. 

“Do what?” you sounded a little drunk as you were forced to let go of his cock with his movements. 

“Drive me crazy.” he explained as you circled his neck with your weak and tired arms. 

“Bet you say that to everyone.” apparently your brain and your heart were disconnected as you spoke those words. 

If only you knew you had nothing to worry about when all Yoongi said was: 

“There’s no one else, kitten.”

Yoongi was taking too long to get off the phone with his parents, you could hear him repeat ‘yes, eomma’ a few dozen times in the past ten minutes. You knew he must be starving by now, you definitely were and you weren’t even the one jumping around for two hours. 

Your shower took a little longer than expected as you both forgot just how hard oil-based lube was to wash off, not to mention washing Yoongi’s hair, and then yours. By the time the food finally arrived, your lover was cranky –as you knew he would be– and it was way past midnight. 

You were wearing one of his shirts, kindly offered to you as your impromptu sleepover didn’t allow you to pack an overnight bag and you didn’t have any spare clothes in his closet. It was rare when he brought you home, and you had never stayed over the whole night. 

Instead of dissecting what any of this could mean, you focused on opening all of the takeout boxes and spreading them around the center table of his living room. You had never tried this restaurant before, but ever since spending some time in Thailand, Yoongi was addicted to Thai food. He ordered dishes that you just had to try, resulting in a lot more food than you were positive you could finish. 

“God, I love that woman, but she drives me crazy sometimes.” Yoongi was walking down the hall to meet you in his living room. 

He was wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, low on his hips, shirtless torso as his neck and shoulders were a little flushed from the hot shower and what obviously was a vexing conversation with his mother. 

“Is everything okay?” you weren’t too concerned, knowing how their relationship had its ups and downs. The two were too much alike to function smoothly at all times. 

“Yeah, she just couldn’t understand why I can’t go to brunch with her, hyung and Chun-hae.” Yoongi sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch at your side. “‘What plans can be more important than having a meal with your family and your brother’s new wife?’” 

You were laughing at his imitation of Mrs. Min, covering your mouth while you chewed and attempted to swallow a piece of duck meat without choking. “If you have plans for tomorrow morning, then maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to stay?” 

“You’re part of the plans.” he told you without hesitating and you swallowed hard. 

“Morning sex is hardly an excuse to skip breakfast with your family.” you pointed out, checking your phone to look at the time. Maybe you could still text Yoongi’s driver to pick you up after dinner. 

“That’s not all– what the hell is that?” Yoongi was staring at you with a deadpan that made you look at yourself, then at the center table you were sitting behind of. 

“Uh… I was hungry, so I started to–”

“No, that in your hand.” his eyes were squinting as you lifted your phone, understanding right away what he was talking about. “An iPhone? Really?” 

“Oh my god, don’t start. The camera is really good in this phone.” you huffed, wondering just how much Samsung was paying him to be this pro-Galaxy. Flipping your phone around, you showed him your case: “Look, I even have your photocard in the back.” 

That made him stop, cheeks flushed, fighting with the corner of his lips to stay down. 

“Still. I’ll get you a new Galaxy.” he stated and you scoffed. “And some D-DAY stickers.” 

“I’ll take the stickers.” 

You scooted a little to the side, patting the spot on the rug next to you for Yoongi to sit next to you, unwrapping the spare chopsticks and parting them in the middle before offering them to him. Yoongi took them with a tired sigh and licked his lips as he looked over the food options. 

While he started to eat, you opened the can of diet coke for him, the noise making Holly lift his head in curiosity, studying you from where he was laying between the TV and the table. 

“Why are you watching a still picture?” Yoongi asked with a full mouth of veggies and noodles, bottom lip shiny with the sauce. 

“It’s not a still picture, he just went to get a drink.” you explained, reaching for the noodles Yoongi had just tried to do the same. “You don’t recognize that room?”

The image on TV was still, you’d give him that, but just because Jungkook wasn’t in the frame. You could kind of hear his footsteps and the clicking of ice as the boy made himself another drink. It took Yoongi a few seconds to realize what you were watching, the Weverse logo at the corner being an easy giveaway. 

“He’s live again?!” Yoongi groaned, making you laugh. 

“He was doing an unboxing of your album.” you told Yoongi, watching him chew in pout. “Which, by the way, why does he get an autographed copy and I don’t?” 

“You said you wanted to buy the album yourself.” Yoongi looked at you as if you just told him the craziest thing. 

“Yeah, because I’m a supporting friend.” nagged. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t accept an extra, signed copy.” 

“Okay, I’ll sign a spare copy and give it to you later.” Yoongi decided, but you were already shaking your head. 

“I don’t want a pity album!” 

“Okay, then I won’t give it to you!” he bickered, taking a scoop of rice and bringing it to you, instead of his own mouth. 

You let him feed you the sweet rice, watching him watch the way your lips closed around his chopsticks as he dragged them out of your mouth. His own cheeks were filled with food, but you would still kiss the shit out of him right now if he let you. 

“Can you make it out ‘to kitten’?” you relented. “And sign it as Agust D?” 

“Sure, kitten.” 

You smiled with a closed mouth, not trying to flash him while you chewed your food. 

Yoongi made a good decision when ordering Thai food as you didn’t dislike anything you tried from the assortment of things Yoongi picked. Now you had one more reason to wish you were able to go to Thailand with him; if it wasn’t for a new clothing line you had to take pictures for, you would have made it, too. It was bad enough that you missed out on his boat rides and snorkeling, now you knew you missed a whole lot of good food, too. 

The two of you ate in partial silence as you watched Jungkook get back into frame with a microphone that had apparently been gifted to him by Spotify, singing a song or two, but mostly talking to his audience. He kept bringing up Yoongi’s concert and you knew he was still beating himself up for messing up the lyrics. 

“Is that all you are?” Yoongi asked, but he was looking ahead, so you weren’t sure he was even talking to you. 

“Hm?” you reached for a napkin to wipe your lips clean, already full just by watching him eat. 

“A supporting friend?” he still didn’t look at you, but your previous words rang back to you. 

You frowned, surprised Yoongi was still stuck on that when you didn’t even remember what you were talking about anymore. But his question, and his small frown, confused you. 

“Aren’t we friends?” you asked quietly as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “Do I not support you?”

“We are and you do.” was his simple answer. 

“Then what’s wrong with what I said?” you wanted to know, but didn’t want to push him in any way. You could tell there was a lot going on his mind right now, the adrenaline of the concert completely gone by now. 

“Nothing, I guess.” he shrugged, resting his back against the couch behind you, pausing the movements of his chopsticks to look at you. “Just feels a little weird to call you a friend when I can still smell your cum on my fingers.”

“What do you want to call me then?” 

Your voice was weak as you rested your chin on your knee, watching his eyes twitch ever so slightly, his tongue poke between his lips to wipe off any leftover sauce. Your heart was betraying you as your stomach felt cold at the prospects of his answer. 

Unfortunately or not, his answer was a simple:

“Guess I haven’t given it much thought.” 

All you could do was hum in agreement, lost in your own thoughts as your eyes moved back to the TV. You couldn’t help but wonder if Yoongi would give it a thought now that it was brought to his attention, or if he’d dismiss it altogether and things would always stay the way they were. 

“I was at hyung’s concert tonight again, he is so cool, isn’t he? Hyung worked hard.” Jungkook spoke up, so much fondness when it came to Yoongi that you wondered if he could be the maknae’s favorite hyung. “Ah, no I wasn’t sitting with Jimin hyung, which is why you didn’t see me. I was, uh– backstage with someone else.” 

You knew you were the ‘someone else’ in question, a small smile arising in your lips at the mention. 

“No, I can’t tell you who it was, stop asking.” Jungkook scolded playfully. “And stop calling me Ian–” 

You laughed at the mention of Ian and Jungkook’s tiny mistake when outing his secret Tiktok account, only realizing Yoongi was staring at you when you felt his burning gaze. It made your neck flush, but you pretended not to notice it. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go now.” the boy on TV started to wave at the millions of fans watching him, just as Yoongi got up to get the half empty takeout containers back to the kitchen. “Please support hyung at tomorrow’s concert too.” 

You turned the television off before Jungkook was properly gone, not really liking the way Yoongi had grown quiet all of a sudden. You picked up the last boxes left behind and followed him into the kitchen, helping him find the correct plastic lids to each one, seeing as he was a little distracted. 

The ping on your phone alerted you of a new text message coming in, both you and Yoongi looking at the device on top of the kitchen island on pure reflex. 

Jungkookie sent you a message, unlock to view. 

You looked at Yoongi in time to watch his shoulders drop as he turned around to throw away the used chopsticks. You always enjoyed the view of his back muscles, the 7 tattoo on his shoulder, knowing you were one of the few to know it was there, but you hated how his head was hanging forward and his posture was slouching. 

“He isn’t wasting any time, huh?” came his voice, even if he wasn’t looking at you again. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” you cursed yourself internally; you didn’t have to make Yoongi feel better about this. If he didn’t know what you should call each other, then Jungkook might. If only it was that easy to ignore whatever was bothering Yoongi. 

The man hummed again, in that way that told you nothing. You reached for your phone to read the message: 

Jungkookie: Were you watching the live, noona?

Harmless, just making conversation, making sure he had your right number, perhaps. And then your phone pinged again.

Jungkookie: Are you going to watch hyung’s concert tomorrow again? 

You: Hi, Kookie! Yes, we watched your live. I liked the purple lights in your room. 

You: And I’m not sure I’m coming to the concert tomorrow yet. 

Jungkookie: If you’re not planning on seeing hyung tomorrow, then can we grab something to eat instead? 

Jungkookie: My lights are much cooler in person. 

Maybe he really wasn’t wasting any time indeed. You didn’t know what you were expecting to feel when giving Jungkook your number, but… This wasn’t it. Yes it was exciting and it was nice to be asked out on a proper date, to have someone as cool as Jungkook being obviously interested in you. 

But what would happen if you said yes? Would you end up in his bedroom with the excuse of seeing his cool lights? If it didn’t happen on the first day, what if it happened on the third? Would you even be able to make it to the second date without thinking of Yoongi and what it would mean for the two of you? 

“Everything okay, kitten?” his voice was quiet, maybe a little reluctant. 

You looked up from your phone then, deciding you wouldn’t make any conclusions tonight. 

“Of course, everything is fine.” you locked your phone and put it on silent mode, locking the screen and placing it on top of the island once more. “Should we finish cleaning up?” 

“I already cleared everything.” Yoongi told you and you looked over your shoulder, realizing that all of the trash had already been taken care of and the food was stored in the fridge. 

“Oh.” 

“I lost you there for a minute.” 

Yoongi’s words felt heavy on his chest and he didn’t even know why. 

Or maybe he did and just wasn't ready to properly dissect what he was feeling tonight. From learning Jungkook spent all night keeping you company, to how he asked for your number and you gave it to him, and to how you were obviously texting each other already. 

Yoongi knew of Jungkook’s crush on you, the maknae didn't really hide it; big eyes always so obvious and honest. But Yoongi didn’t think Jungkook would ever do anything about it. Wasn't it against some kind of rulebook? 

Don't mess with your brother’s… Girl? Friend? Fuck buddy? 

Yoongi never felt the need to put a name on what you were to him, what you were to each other. But ever since finding you backstage with Jungkook, it started to nag at him. Was this how it felt to be threatened by someone else? 

"I'm just gonna put Holly in his pen for the night, if you want to go wait for me in the bedroom." Yoongi told you quietly, too scared you might have changed your mind about staying. 

"Sure you don't need help?" you offered, and a little of the weight of the rocks in his stomach lifted. 

"He might get hyper again if he sees you." Yoongi chuckled with a shake of his head, walking around the kitchen to turn a few of the lights that were no longer needed. "They say dogs don't pick favorites but I call bulshit."

"Baby, I don't think anyone says that." 

You had that tiny, shy smile on your face as Yoongi circled the kitchen island, stopping him at the new term of endearment you just used. It made him falter, eyes widening a fraction. 

"I'm usually the one calling you that." Yoongi chuckled, but it sounded more like a wheeze. 

"Oh. Does it bother you?" you nibbled on your bottom lip, but Yoongi used his thumb to set it free. 

"I think I like it." he thought more than that, if he were being honest. 

"I'll be waiting in the bedroom, then." you let him know, raising on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

"Kitten." Yoongi called before you could walk too far, motioning to the device on top of the marble island. "Aren't you taking your phone?"

"I won't need it in there." you shook your head. The only thing you needed tonight was to have Yoongi close to you. "Besides, I assume you don't have an Apple charger?"

"See? If you had a Galaxy, your battery would last for days–" 

"Alright, say goodnight to Holly for me." you interrupted the man before asking if he became a Samsung CEO and forgot to mention. 

At least you could say a bit of the palpable, smothering tension was going away, since you were still able to laugh together. You could tell that leaving your phone behind did something for Yoongi’s mood. You wouldn't dare say he was jealous of Jungkook in any way, not when you knew how he felt about you.

But Yoongi was clearly confused about something, on some minimal level, if anything. Otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned you weren't just a friend, he wouldn't even question it. 

If he didn't realize at this point how much you belonged to him, wordlessly, irrevocably, however unrequitedly, maybe it was about time you showed it. 

As he moved to take Holly to his playpen for the night, you went to Yoongi’s bedroom with an idea in your mind. It was pretty simple, really, no great gestures or a big confession planned. 

But Yoongi was a smart guy and he knew how to read between the lines. If he didn’t understand what you meant, then maybe he wanted to remain clueless;  it would be your own hint that maybe you should let go. 

Your purse was still on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, the chain he wore tonight at the concert was laying next to it. You picked it up and walked to the large mirror on the closet door, unclasping the jewelry before bringing it to your neck. 

You had to fasten it a little tighter against your throat than it was on his, the excess chain resting on your collarbones and reaching all the way between your breasts. You admired how the collar-like chain sat snug against your skin, how the simple fact that you were wearing it, and it belonged to Yoongi, made your breathing grow slow and heavy, dull throbs sparking between your legs. 

You heard Yoongi’s lazy steps as he came down the hall and joined you in the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. 

"Kitten, about tomorrow," Yoongi started, but his next words died on his throat as you turned around to face him. 

"Yeah?" 

You smiled softly, walking closer to him as you watched his eyes flit from the chain around your neck to your eyes, down to your lips and back to the chain. 

Yoongi was almost a head and a half taller than you, way wider with his broad shoulders and chest that narrowed into a surprisingly slim waist. 

In your work field, you saw handsome men every day, you've worked with actors and the occasional idol in brand deals and campaigns in the past, to the point you weren't affected by a pretty face and it took a lot to make you blush or squirm.

And then there was Yoongi. 

So beautiful in every way, the prettiest pouty lips, cutest nose, most honest eyes and golden heart. His hair was parted in the middle, falling softly and shiny around his face, the tips a little curly from being allowed to dry naturally instead being blow-dry. 

"What's this, hm?" his hand reached for the chain resting between your breasts, the back of his fingers gently grazing your mounds, making you tingle all over. 

“Wanted to know what it would look like on me.” you told him as you took a step closer, fingers reaching for his shoulder to absentmindedly trace the faint scar with your thumb. “What it’d feel like.” 

“Looks pretty.” Yoongi stated, hand moving higher as he held the chain and gave it a tiny tug. You swallowed hard, a tiny gasp of surprise following. “How does it feel?” 

“Good.” you looked into his eyes, hoping yours would convey what you were trying to show him. 

Claim me, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. 

Yoongi kept a firm hold on the chain to keep you in place and your eyes fluttered closed just shy of missing his lips break into a side smirk. His lips pressed gently against your cheek, dragging over your jaw, finding your ear. Yoongi took the lobe into his mouth, pulling on it with his teeth as his warm breathing made you melt on the spot. 

“Wanna keep it on?” he asked in a whisper and you pondered if he could hear your heartbeat reply. 

“I do…” you sighed heavily, both hands resting on his chest. “Is that okay, baby?” 

“Anything my kitten wants.” Yoongi’s mouth was making its way to yours, your body trembling with the way he said my kitten. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” 

You nodded as words seemed to leave you at that very moment Yoongi’s arm circled around your waist to press you against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still very much closed as you felt his breath ghosting your lips. Yoongi was still holding onto the chain with his other hand, even when he held your neck and part of your jaw. 

The warmth of his hand was contrasting to the coldness of the chain, his body was smooth and his lips wet when they found yours. You sighed against his lips, melting and turning into a puddle in his hold as his tongue licked between your lips, asking for the permission you easily granted. 

Your back bowed the more Yoongi pressed into you, tongue swirling around your mouth, playing with yours, deepening the kiss as your heads tilted to opposite sides. The moment he let go of the chain, you sucked in a deep breath, some clarity returning to your hazy brain, but it was minimal with the way both of his hands traveled down your back to squeeze and palm your ass. 

His hands slipped under your shirt, kneading your cheeks, pulling your hips harder against his to let you feel the very prominent bulge that already started to form inside his pants. You sighed and moaned softly the higher his touches moved, fiery trails being left behind by his fingertips until you had to part the kiss to allow Yoongi to pull the fabric off your body. 

The chain fell against your chest with a light clunk, making you wince and Yoongi look at you with a small veil of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in that raspy voice of his, making you almost forget what the words meant. 

“No, not at all,” you assured him, hands going back to his shoulders as his rested on your ribs, just shy of your chest. “Just cold.” 

“Let me make it warm, then.” 

Yoongi leaned closer to your neck, blown out pupils were the last thing you saw when your eyes fluttered closed and you offered your throat for him to kiss. His mouth opened and closed against your skin, covering it in wet kisses. His teeth worked as hard as his lips and tongue, no doubt covering you in more marks and love bites. 

The man’s hands cupped your tits, squeezing them as his thumbs rolled your stiff nipples, making you moan a little louder and rub your thighs together. You loved everything Yoongi did, how he touched your body, knew when to push you and when to go slower. You felt drunk, even if the only alcohol you had tonight was the shot of whiskey you shared with the artist before he went on stage, and that was hours ago. 

As his lips made their way back to your jaw and ear, you felt yourself tremble at his breathy words:

“Kiss me.” 

It sounded like a request, not an order; almost a plea. One you would do your very best to obey regardless. Your eyes parted as your hands moved from his shoulders to his neck. You had to look up to his handsome face, beauty too delicate, lips too bitten, eyes too perfect, as your difference in height didn’t allow you just to lean in. 

Your lips parted as you reached out for him, chasing for his mouth, breath getting caught in your throat when–

“What’s wrong, kitten?” Yoongi’s tone was teasing, head cocking sideways as you couldn’t move. The restriction around your neck, as Yoongi gripped on the chain, made it impossible for you to reach his lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me? Shame.” 

“Yoongi–” you whined pitifully, hands slipping into his long, dark hair, trying to bring him closer to you, but to no avail. “I always want to kiss you.” 

“Then why don’t you, hm?” the teasing continued, paired with the licking of his lips to taunt you further. “Don’t you want to be a good little kitten for me?” 

You were growing squirmy, trying to reach those perfect, petal colored lips, suck on his tongue, anything, but the firm grip around your throat didn’t let you move up. And then Yoongi gave it a light, downward tug, making your neck sting and your shoulders drop. Looking up at him, you saw a tiny challenge in his eyes and your brain took a little while to catch up to what he was hinting at. And then your eyes widened in what must have been a comical way, as Yoongi’s chuckle warmed your heart. 

“Fucking cute.” he praised, making you even more shy under his stare. 

“Yoongi.” 

Your hands left his neck to hold his sides, trace his curves, as your lips met his collarbones. You might not be kissing his lips, but you’d peck and nibble wherever you could reach. You seemed to have gotten the right idea as Yoongi hummed in content when you dragged your lips all over his chest. 

When you reached his nipple, flicking it with your tongue, you heard him hiss and pull on the chain again, moving you lower on his body. You knew he was sensitive, but never missed the opportunity to make him squirm. 

Yoongi retaliated by not granting you a lot of time to kiss his tummy, barely allowing you to trace the lines of his stomach with your tongue. Your thighs were burning and your back was bent uncomfortably, so the final tug had you dropping to your knees on the floor. The wood was heated, but hard under your knees, but this was a point of view of Min Yoongi you’d never get tired of. 

From this angle you could see the planes of his chest, the sharpness of his jawline, the strands of long hair framing his face as he looked down at you with lowered eyes. 

“Will you let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock?” he nudged and you replied with a nod, hands reaching for the waistband around his hips. “Nuh-uh. No hands, kitten.” 

“But–” your complaint was cut off by a harsher tug of the chain and your lips parted as arousal pooled between your legs, making your underwear stick to your folds. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, sir.” you shook your head, bringing your hands under your thighs to make sure they stayed away. 

“Good girl.” Yoongi praised, free hand tapping your cheek hard enough to make it warm, but not enough to hurt. 

God, you loved it when he treated you like this. Like you weren’t breakable, he knew how far you could go. You went crazy for the way he handled you like you were his good little kitten, ready to please him in any way he saw fit, any manner he was in the mood for. And after watching him on stage tonight, acting like a King and looking like a God, you’d give him anything he wanted. 

Body and soul included. 

You brought your face closer to his lower tummy, kissing just under his belly button, licking at the faint happy trail. Your teeth nipped his skin on accident as you tried to bite the elastic band of his pants, but all it did was make Yoongi groan. You tried a few different approaches when trying to use your mouth to get rid of the sweatpants, whole body wobbling as you fought with it, but it was fruitless. 

Yoongi’s hard cock was pointing up, tenting inside his pants, and the elastic band was too tight, slipping back into place one one side when you managed to lower the other. The man was looking down at you with an amused grin, likely knowing this was exactly what was going to happen from the moment he forbidden you from using your hands. 

“Something wrong?” he started again and it took you a lot of self control not to slip your hand between your legs at his mocking tone. “Do you not want to suck my cock, is that it? But you love drooling all over it–” 

You’ve had enough, huffing impatiently and bringing your mouth to his tip, lips wrapping around it over the light fabric of his pants. He cursed under his breath, hold on your chain making your skin prickle as he pulled out of pure reaction. You were looking at him through your lashes as you made sucking sounds, tongue wetting the material; even if none of this was pleasant for any of you, it still got Yoongi moving. 

“If you’re just gonna act like a brat–” Yoongi complained with no real bite, pulling you away from his cock by the metal around your neck. He let go of the chain to use his hands to shove his pants down his hips and thin legs, kicking them away when they pooled around his ankles. “You better be good to me now, open that fucking mouth.” 

“I’m always good.” you offered him an innocent little smile that didn’t really fool him anymore. 

You scooted closer to him again, mouth open and willing, tongue out as you brought it to his cock. The tip of your tongue gave it a couple licks, mouth closing around him as you sucked more and more of him into your willing, wet cave, not stopping even as you felt him in the back of your throat. Your eyes stung with tears from the sudden stretch of having him slipping down your throat with no prep, but you’d be damned if you didn’t shut him up with your deep-throating skills. 

Yoongi had been the one to train you on it, afterall. 

“Show off.” Yoongi cursed, sounding fucked out and raspy. “Behave, kitten.” 

As you pulled off his cock, letting it slip out of your throat, you held back a cough and took deep breaths to allow air to fill your lungs again. You had a wicked little smile on your spit covered lips, a thick string of it connecting you to his tip. You flicked your tongue over it to make it snap, hearing Yoongi’s raspy moan as his weight shifted from one leg to the other. 

He pushed your hair away from your face to get a better view of you, gently tucking it behind your ears before nudging his cock against your lips with a movement of his hips. You slipped your tongue past your lips to kitten lick at his sensitive tip, swirling it around the leaking head, moving lower as you traced a fat vein down to his very base. 

You mouthed at Yoongi’s cock, feeling small twitches against your lips, broad strokes of your tongue making the man tremble as he towered over you. After giving his smooth tip a wet kiss, you kissed down his length, past his base, stopping at his balls. You were looking up at him as you opened your mouth to take one of them into it, giving it gentle sucks that you knew drove Yoongi absolutely mad. His body was starting to collect a thin layer of sweat, trembling hand pushing his hair back and away from his face for the hundredth time tonight. It was a shame your mouth was too full and you couldn’t tell him how stunning he looked at this very moment. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Shit.” Yoongi groaned as you repeated the same action with the other ball, until you let go of it with a loud pop. “Come on now, let me fuck this pretty mouth.”

“It’s yours, baby.” you admitted, hoping he could read between the lines. “All of it.” 

“Yeah?” the man was breathless as his gorgeous hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it up and down, squeezing to find some relief as he let you breathe. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” 

If Yoongi knew what he was doing, he was just plain cruel for playing with your feelings like this. But you still nodded, you still opened your mouth for him. 

“Damn right you are.” he growled, holding his base with one hand and your chain with the other, pulling you close to his cock and slipping it into your mouth. He was lucky you relaxed your jaw as fast as you did, just barely missing your teeth. “Never gonna choke on another cock like this. You’ll never like another as much as this one, right kitten?” 

You moaned around him as a reply, jaw already aching as his hips rolled and pulled back and pushed forward, slowly starting to fuck your mouth, just like he promised. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you rested your hands on his tights; not only were they starting to feel numb, being stuck under yourself for so long, you needed to find some balance. 

“My kitten.” he continued, getting lost in your warm mouth, making spit collect and dribble down the corners of your lips. “Mine.” 

You didn’t know Yoongi to behave this possessively, but you were going crazy for it. If you had half a brain right now, you might have connected it to the fact this was pretty much the first time Yoongi ever had competition, the first time he knew about someone else showing interest in you and it was making alarm bells ring around his head. 

As more and more growls escaped from his swollen lips, the faster he fucked your mouth, slipping all the way to the back, pulling off so your cheeks could hollow as you sucked, licked and slurped at a pace you knew would make him unravel fast. And Yoongi knew it, too, taking a step back to take his cock out of your mouth and holding you in place by the chain as you tried chasing him back. 

“Not gonna cum in your mouth, kitten.” he let you know, but didn’t sound so sure of it himself. “Come here.” 

“Selfish–” was all you managed to say, between the ache on your jaw and your slightly sore throat. 

Yoongi laughed cutely, just a raspy sound coming out in staccato. He helped you back onto your feet with strong, bulging arms, holding you close to his body as he looked at your neck. Despite your little whines of complaint, Yoongi unclasped the chain from your throat. 

“You’re all red, baby.” he told you quietly, breaking his Dom streak for the time being. “Did I hurt you?” 

“I’m okay, I promise.” you sighed, smiling as you kissed his cheek. “I can take it harder.” 

“Sure you can, kitten.” his smile mirrored yours, wet and hard cock resting between your bodies. Yoongi kissed your forehead and looked at your neck again, blowing on it to soothe the soreness. “Will you get on the bed for me?” 

“How boring.” you teased with a giggle, making him roll his eyes playfully. You turned around to follow his request, getting a smack on your ass in response, making you squeal as you ran away from him. 

You were still laughing as you kneeled on the mattress, scurrying all the way to the headboard to sit by the pillows. When you turned back around to face Yoongi, you saw his back as he stood in front of the mirror. You couldn’t help but gawk at his broad shoulders, thick arms, the dip on his spine. His skin was flushed pink, the 7 tattooed on the back of his shoulder was small, but still a beautiful contrast to his complexion. 

Your gaze was shamelessly stuck on his surprisingly round and plump ass when he turned around, saying: 

“My eyes are up here, kitten.” 

“I know, but your ass–” you giggled, but it went away as soon as it bubbled. 

The chain was around Yoongi’s neck again, circling his throat, the end of it still long enough to rest between his pecs. The way he was biting on his bottom lip told you he was a little nervous, which wasn’t something you ever saw Yoongi being in bed. He didn’t say anything else before climbing on his mattress to meet you, the chain swinging back and forth as he came closer. 

Mine, you spoke in your head, wishing for it to be true. Let me claim you, too. 

“Lay down for me, kitten.” Yoongi asked, holding your hips to pull your body down and help you lay on his bed. “Want you like this tonight. Want to see you. Okay?” 

“Anything you want.” you nodded, heart betraying you as you wanted to shy away from the intensity of his stare. “Always. Anything.” 

You sat up on your elbows and took the dangling part of the chain in your hand, gently pulling him closer, hearing his own gasp as you finally met his mouth again. Your legs parted for Yoongi’s hips to fit in between them, heavy and leaking cock hitting the inside of your thigh as he got comfortable in your hold. 

The kisses exchanged were sloppy, deep, mind numbing. You were barely tugging on the chain, just holding Yoongi close as his body leaned on top of yours and your head met his pillow. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently and letting it drag back into place between his teeth. 

One of his arms sneaked between your bodies to part your legs a little wider, taking his cock in his hand and giving a few lazy pumps as he brought it to your pussy, rubbing it up and down to coat it in your slick. 

“Want to feel all of you, kitten.” he groaned from the feeling and the thought, looking at you as he continued: “Can we do it like this? Please.” 

You were sighing in bliss as you reached to push his hair out of his face, gently running your nails through his scalp and smiling when it made him close his eyes. You didn’t always skip a condom, even if you were on birth control every single time you had any encounters like this one. But you knew you weren’t Yoongi’s only partner in the past, and he respected you enough to never ask this of you when he’d been with someone else in a short period of time. 

Despite promising you that he always wore protection with any of them, which you wholeheartedly believed. And maybe you liked to hurt yourself as you asked:

“How long has it been?” you asked, watching him frown in confusion, obviously getting lost in his own pleasure. “How long has it been since you’ve been with someone else?” 

“Too long.” he shook his head assuringly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I wouldn’t ask–” 

“What about Thailand?” you asked him quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“What about Thailand?” he repeated, letting go of his cock in order to cage you in with his arms as this was obviously something you needed to talk about. 

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” you shook your head, but Yoongi sighed. 

“You always do this. You always pretend things aren’t bothering you when I know they are.” he told you, but his words were gentle and un-accusing. His lips kept pressing against your face, placing small kisses as he said: “Tell me, baby. Tell me so I can ease your mind.”

“It’s just something I heard tonight.” you admitted, as there would be no arguing with him. Your arms circled his neck as you ran your nails behind his shoulders. “One of your crew members was talking about how you brought a girl back to the hotel after the Bangkok concert.”

“What–” Yoongi groaned, as if it was the first time he heard about it. 

“Said she liked the new girl better than me.” you were aware of how small you sounded, realizing you were more upset about this than you previously thought. “Less needy, quieter, doesn’t demand things. All I did was ask her for directions to the bathroom once–”

“Who said those things?” he demanded to know, raising his body on his elbows to properly look at you. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes, because if someone on my team has been spilling lies about me behind my back, I’m going to do something about it.” he stated, but it was his next words that sent a thrill through your veins. “No one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

You could tell Yoongi was getting worked up about this and if the girl really was just talking out of her ass, most likely because she knew you were listening and would be hurt by those words, then Yoongi wouldn’t let it go so easily. But you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night talking about it, or dealing with a stressed Yoongi. 

He had a perfect concert tonight, he deserved to relax. 

In an attempt to soothe him, you cradled his face, running your thumb against his cheekbone, giving his lips small kisses. 

“I didn’t mean to stress you out about this right now.” you told him between pecks. 

“Have you been thinking about this all night?” his eyes were closed, but the lines between his brows were evident. “Thinking I was with someone else like this?”

“Not all night… Only when you weren’t around.” 

“I promise you there were no other girls. For ages now.” his eyes opened to make sure you were listening. There was no way he didn’t hear your hear beating like crazy when he said: “There’s only been you.”

“Did you miss the memo?” you teased, explaining when he frowned: “You’re a rock star on the road, you were supposed to have a different partner every night.” 

“I could have, but no one would ever compare to you.” the movement of Yoongi’s hips, pressing his hard length up and down your folds, was followed by his groan and your moan. “Why waste my time when I got you?”

“Yoongi…” you mewled, squirming underneath him as his cock hit your clit over and over and over again. “If you keep saying shit like that, I’m gonna fall for you.”

“Took you long enough.” Yoongi cried out in pleasure as he kept rolling your hips against yours, hiding his face where your neck and shoulder met, but you could still feel his smile. 

“What–”

“We can talk about this later, but you feel too good right now.” he mumbled a complaint and as much as you wanted to make him say what the fuck he meant just then, you could agree. “I don’t mean to break the moment but–”

“No, yeah, I… Fuck, please.” you spread your legs wider, angling your hips to invite him. “I need you, yeah?”

“Like this?” Yoongi’s body lifted a little so you could both look between your bodies, where his cock was leaking and making an even bigger mess of you. “If you’re not okay with it, I can go get–”

“You’re not going anywhere.” you told him so when grabbing the chain around his neck to pull him back. 

Yoongi barely toppled on top of you again, arms around you as you attacked his lips, needy for a kiss. You took it upon yourself to bring your hand between your bodies, finding his cock so you could stroke him, gently squeeze around his head, tug him a few more times before lining him up with your entrance. 

With a tiny squeeze around his base, you let him know it was okay to move, breathing in a sharp gasp as he moved his hips to press them forward and slip his tip inside your wet, clenching hole. You let go of him, bringing both hands to hold his neck. Keeping up with the kisses was heard, the two of you becoming a mess of tongues and lips the more he pushed forward. 

You were whimpering the more he pushed his cock into you, walls stretching to accommodate him. With one last swift movement, Yoongi bottomed out, kissing your cervix with how long he was, fucking you so deep you forgot how to–

“Breathe, kitten.” he mumbled against your lips, kissing down your throat and collarbones. “It’s gonna feel good soon. Just breathe for me.” 

You did as he asked, breathing hard through your nose and letting it go from your mouth. It was easy to forget all about the pain as Yoongi kissed his way down your body, as much as his position would allow him, looking at you thought dark lashes as his mouth reached your tits. He kissed all over the soft mounds, leaving a trail of heat until his pout found your nipple. 

His tongue rolled around the bud, making it shiny and wet just before taking it into his mouth to give it long sucks that made your back arch. The new movement cause his cock to stir and nudge that sweet spot within your walls and the moan he pulled out of you was sweet as honey. 

"Baby, please." one of your hands slipped deeper into his messy hair, the other was holding onto the chain around his neck. 

"Yes, kitten?" Yoongi grinned as he let go of your nipple just to make his way to the opposite one and repeat the same suction movements and teasing with his tongue. 

"Fuck me." you whispered, trying to move your hips underneath him. 

"What was that?" he asked with an arched brow after pinching your nipple between his teeth. "Couldn't hear you properly." 

Yoongi was a little menace when he wanted to be, making you squirm as you tensed your pelvic muscles, clenching around him, repeating yourself: 

"Fuck me, Yoongi." you begged. "Fuck me good so that you're the only man in my mind. Make me cum so hard we'll have to change the sheets before falling asleep, then wake me up so you can fuck me again, over and over, until your neighbors know whose name I'm screaming–" 

"Fucking hell–" 

A full body shiver raked through Yoongi, a deep breath slipping past his lips as he raised himself on his arms. You missed his warmth instantly, but the view of him on top of you, long chain dangling from around his neck, flushed body, hips snug against your middle, was all worth it. 

Especially when his hips pulled back and you both watched as his cock came out of you coated in your arousal. You could feel every bump, ridge and vein, just like he could feel your walls fluttering around him. Despite being careful when pulling out, Yoongi shoved his cock right back in, both of your moans being almost completely drowned out by the squelching of your pussy. 

“Fuck–!” you cried as your body rocked as Yoongi kept that pace going, brutal and skilled. 

“Look at you bouncing on this big cock, hm?” the man had the audacity to tease you, thrusting time and time again to make you squirm and bounce the harder he fucked you. “So fucking tight, too. My pretty little kitten, stuffed full of cock, sounding like a slut.” 

“You greet your fans with that mouth?” was all the comeback you managed to spill, a hand on his chest and the other holding onto his chain for dear life. You could already see red lines around his neck, but he wasn’t complaining. 

“Yeah,” he gloated, obviously happy with himself. “But you’re the only one who gets to know what else I can do with it.” 

You had to laugh, slightly delirious as you thought about his mouth and just how many times he made you cum in record time using only his lips and that sinful mouth. But then again–

“Actually –fucking hell–,” you sighed, the top of your head just shy from banging on his headboard as Yoongi upped his pace. “Pretty sure you were rapping about your tongue skills tonight as well–” 

“Okay,” he continued, obviously amused about how chatty you were being. “How about you being the only one who gets to experience it, hm?” 

"I'm okay with that." you agreed with a quick nod of your head, clenching and twitching underneath him. "Fuck, baby, you're always fucking me so good– Filling me up all the way. I can't–" 

"Yes you can, take it like a good girl." 

Yoongi must be nearing his end as his thrusts became sloppy and a little less consistent but just as good. You could feel him all the way in your guts, stretching you wide, making you want to scream his name. You only realized you were pulling on the chain again when his elbows bent and his nose was nudging yours. You kept him glued to you, swallowing his every moan, feeding him your own.

Your pussy was clenching like crazy, neither of you finding time to properly breathe as you hooked a leg around his waist. Yoongi pushed deeper and rolled his hips over and over again, hitting all of the good spots, hipbone abusing your swollen clit. 

"Gonna cum, Yoongi, oh my god!" you squealed as you writhed underneath him, steel grip on his chain as your nails from the other hand sunk in on his back. 

"Cum for me, kitten, make a mess for me," he growled like a starved beast, hips pistoning into you with the little bit of stamina he still got. "Good girl, just like that–" 

Your legs gave out as you started to tremble, lower stomach tensing until the band broke and your orgasm hit you hard. Your vision went blurry and your ears buzzed as you creamed around Yoongi’s cock, wave after wave rolling off of you as you went just a little more insane. 

Yoongi’s own orgasm was tipped right after yours, a delicious warmth spreading inside you as his thick cum filled you up so much you knew you’d make an even bigger mess. His chest pressed you into the bed, both of you clinging to each other for dear life. 

Your breaths were heavy, bodies sweaty, sheets as ruined as the two of you were. There were tears in your eyes from the mess of emotions you were suddenly hit with, knowing now that the sex was over, Yoongi didn't need to enchant you with sweet words and empty promises. 

"Did I hurt you, baby?" he asked you with worry, noting your red rimmed eyes, kissing the couple pesky tears away. "I'm sorry if I was too rough…"

"You were perfect. You're always perfect." you assured him, pulling him in for another hug, hiding in his chest. "Just fucking me stupid, that's all." 

That seemed to distract him and you felt his body shaking as he laughed. Yoongi didn't let go of you for a very long time, what felt like ages, really. Until you could both breathe again and the haze swirling around your brain dissipated. 

The idol only let go of you when he could feel his cum start to leak out of you, rushing to the bathroom to clean his softening cock. He got back to you with clean cotton shorts and a damp cloth, insisting on being the one to clean up the mess between your legs. 

You were a little wobbly when you used the bathroom after him, needing to pee, avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands and your face. You looked absolutely wrecked, in the best way possible. 

Your neck was a little purple in spots, both from Yoongi’s kisses and the damned chain. Your hair was a mess that wouldn't be fixed without conditioner or brushing lotion. Your hips had finger marks all over–

"Baby, are you okay in there?" Yoongi asked, already opening the door and making you yelp. 

"Hey! I could be on the toilet!" 

"What if you were?" he scoffed, as if it was no big deal. "I've seen you do worse." 

"Debatable!" you complained in a high pitch. "I can't have one moment to myself?" 

"Nop." Yoongi grinned happily, showing you his gums. He walked to you next to the sink, bringing a clean shirt to put over your head, going as far as pulling your arms through the holes. "You were taking too long and I was missing you." 

If your own blush wasn’t the first to betray you, you could have teased him for his post-sex neediness. 

Yoongi wasn’t looking much better than you, now that the chain had been taken off, his own neck was red and bruised, likely to give his makeup noonas a hard time covering them enough for his concert tomorrow night. There were scratches all over his shoulders and back, hair just as messy as it was at the end of the show. 

He pulled you into his body for one last hug before holding your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom. Yoongi led you out of his room right after, going further down the hall as he dragged you into the guest bedroom, where he had already pulled out the covers of the bed, likely too tired to change his sheets tonight. 

You found a water bottle waiting for you at the side of the bed, happy with the fact he remembered how thirsty you got after sex, chugging it down in almost one chug. Only when you trusted your voice not to waver and you were both lying in bed, with Yoongi pulling you into his arms, you said:

“What about tomorrow?”

“Huh?” he blinked like a confused cat.

“You were going to tell me about the secret plans that involve me and not morning sex.” you reminded him of the subject that was pushed aside when he saw you wearing his chain earlier. 

“I never said no to morning sex.” he pointed out as you laid with your cheek on his chest. His hand was drawing patterns on your arm. 

“Okay, so after the morning sex–”

“Uh. Yeah, there's this new coffee shop that just opened up, and they do american style breakfast.” he started, just a little hesitant. 

“Oh, I love American breakfast!” you chirped, tracing the few lines on his stomach with your fingertips.

His chuckle was cute and endeared. “I know, that's the only reason I said yes to getting out of bed that early when we were in Chicago.” 

“I never woke you up before 11am.” you squinted up at him with a shake of your head. 

“Like I said, early.”

“Okay, well. What about this new place?” you insisted, curiosity getting the best of you. 

“I wanna take you there tomorrow. Check out the place.” he shrugged, but you sat up. 

“Oh, Yoongi…”

“You can say no, if it's weird.” he was nibbling on his bottom lip as he watched you. 

“No, it's not weird, just... it sounds like a hype place, and, well, won’t people see us?” you were worried, despite going out for breakfast with Yoongi sounding like a perfect morning plan. 

Besides the morning sex. 

“Does it bother you?” he frowned, adding: “Being seen with me?”

“Why would it bother me?” you chuckled under your breath, it felt like you were talking about different topics. “I know you like to keep your reputation, so I don't mind–”

“My what?” Yoongi sat up a little higher against the headboard.

“You know… Not being seen with a girl?” you held back the rolling of your eyes. “Isn't that why I can't watch your concerts from the seats?”

“No??” he looked bewildered, as if you were insane.  

“What??” you were the one confused now, a slightly amused laugh sounding incredulous. “You asked me to stay backstage after that Dispatch tweet linked us together…”

“Yeah, because I didn't want it to put you at risk, not because I mind that people saw me with you!” he reached out to smooth your hair, but you doubted that it did anything. 

“Oh.” 

“Is that what you've been thinking all this time?” his head tilted comically and you felt your cheeks burn. 

“Well, yeah?!” 

“Why wouldn't I want to be seen with you, baby?” Yoongi pressed and you opened and closed your lips a few times before deciding on what to say. 

“Because I'm just…” 

“You’re not just a friend.” he stopped you, finally making up his mind. Completely tilting your world upside down as he continued: “And I'm tired of pretending that you are.” 

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