#suga reader insert

The first time you kissed Yoongi he was high, and you were maybe a little more tipsy than you should have been. But it was the start of something great. You and Yoongi were friends, maybe not the closest of friends but he wasn't a stranger. You felt safe with him, and you could go to each other with your needs. Any needs. Which was how you ended up under him now, his fingers rubbing firm, fast circles against your aching clit.

"Yoongi, please," You whined. He smirked, and you cursed him silently because you really did understand why everyone was obsessing over his skills.

"Please what, pretty baby?" He asked, leaning down to kiss your throat, and you huffed.

"Please, wanna cum. That's what you came over for, right? To get me off, help me destress." You were being annoying, you were sure, but you didn't care in the least. You just wanted to get off, and Yoongi had promised to help you relax. But instead he had you winding so tight you thought your muscles would tear.

"Not gonna make you cum on my fingers, baby. You want to be fucked stupid, right? Don't wanna think anymore? Gonna make you all dumb on my cock instead."

His words sent a rush of arousal through you, wetness dripping out to slick onto his fingers. But even so, he stopped, feeling the way you tensed under him. His fingers were slower now, barely giving you anything as he pulled back and gave you a questioning look.

"You don't want that?" He asked. You and him had never gone that far, sticking to dry humping or going down on each other, sometimes he'd slide his fingers into you, but that was different.

"No! I mean, I do! It's just..." You squirmed, blinking away your building anxiety. Yoongi stopped entirely, sitting back to give you space to breathe, but the distance only made you feel naked, much more exposed than you would have liked.

"You know you can tell me. We communicate. I promised to take care of you, I'm still gonna do that." He promised you, and you fought off a small, surprised expression. You hadn't imagined he'd taken it that seriously back then, let alone now.

"I'm a virgin." You said finally, avoiding his eye. There was quiet, and you squirmed before Yoongi was towering over you, his hand gripping your chin to lift your gaze back to him.

"You've been letting me play with you all this time, and you just weren't gonna tell me that?" He asked, his thumb tracing over your lower lip. You could swear his gaze was only getting more intense, and you swallowed.

"It's embarrassing," You admitted. He huffed out a tiny laugh, his eyebrow quirking upwards in the way that always had you going a little bit feral.

"Embarrassing? What about me being able to ruin you for any other man is embarrassing, pretty thing?" He asked. You felt a quiet squeak slip past your lips. You quickly regained your confidence though, not wanting to give him the upper hand.

"So you wouldn't be able to ruin me for anyone else if I'd already slept with another person? Good to know," You teased, lips curling into a troublesome grin. He rolled his eyes, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. Then his lips were pressed to the sensitive spot just under your ear, his tongue dragging over it before sucking hard. Your body pressed closer towards his, rolling into the warmth that washed over you.

"Oh, baby, I already have." He whispered, his attention trailing further down your neck, leaving tiny bruises that you knew would bloom bright overnight. Your fingers laced through his hair, tugging lightly as a silent plea for him to leave his teasing and move on. He groaned quietly, not seeming to want to wait either.

He sat back, taking a minute to admire you as if he hadn't seen you laying naked beneath him more times than he could count on one hand. You felt a new wave of arousal rush through you under his attention. His hands brushed your stomach, sliding up to cup your tits, thumbs brushing in feather-light touches over your nipples as if he would hurt you if he touched them too firmly. You released a breathy moan, your eyes shutting as you basked in the attention.

"Gonna make you feel so good." He said, quietly enough that it was almost like he was talking to himself, but you knew better with the way his hands lowered down to knead at your thighs, feeling the soft plush flesh under his fingertips before pushing them wider apart.

You were entirely exposed to him, and even though he'd touched you just a little while earlier, this felt so much more intimate. His fingers slid easily through the wetness leaking from your hole, teasing you with slow, careful touches before sliding two into you, scissoring them and curling them carefully. His eyebrows were furrowed as he focused on the slide of his fingers inside your pussy, his tongue poking against his bottom lip. The attention had you hot all over and you squirming which only forced his fingers to prod a little harder against that spot you loved. You keened, his name on the tip of your tongue but coming out instead as a long whine.

"Please, need you. Don't wanna wait anymore. Waited forever." You huffed. He smiled, a genuine, brilliant smile as his thumb flicked over your clit. And then, finally he was pulling his hand away, maneuvering the two of you with gentle touches until he was settled between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your folds.

"Say it again," He requested, the head of his aching length running teasing circles around your clit. "Say you need me, tell me how bad."

"Yoongi," You huffed, and he dipped his cock ever so slightly between your swollen pussy lips, laying enough pressure over your entrance to make you choke on your complaints. Any shame or frustration gave way to pure desperation to feel more of him, to be full of him, surrounded by him. "Please, I need you. Need you so bad I could cry, want you to be my first, want you to take me."

Your words made him hiss, his hips pressing carefully forward, nudging his cock into you inch by inch. You tipped your head back against the pillows, your back arching off the bed and pushing you closer to him, needing more of him, needing him closer. One of your hands scrambled to find his waist, pulling him down closer to you. He didn't hesitate to give in, lowering himself until your chests were pressed together, his face tucked into the crook of your neck and his hips continuing their slow, steady roll against yours. It was another few moments before he was fully sheathed in your tight, wet warmth. His weight rested on his forearm beside you, his other hand gripping at your hip, thumb tracing over the curve there.

"Feel so fucking perfect wrapped around me, shit," He grumbled, voice muffled against your skin, but you heard them all the same, your walls fluttering around him as you tried to get used to the feeling of having him inside of you. He was definitely hitting places you'd never felt before, stretching you out more than his fingers ever had and making the fire in the pit of your stomach burn hotter, the flames consuming you and turning your inhibitions to ash.

"I need more. Fuck me, baby, please. Can take it." You begged, your fingers stroking through his hair again. He shifted, the movement pulling him out of you, and you almost sobbed when he rolled his hips back to draw most of the way out before sliding back in with ease. The rolling thrusts of his hips were slow, easy, and you melted into them. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other dragging your nails against his waist, pulling him impossibly closer until you were breathing him in.

"Can't believe I haven't done this yet." He mumbled, sucking at your shoulder until a pretty little mark was left in his wake. "You're fucking made for me, built for my dick. Never gonna let you go. All mine, gonna take such good care of you."

He was almost as fucked as you were, his breath coming out in pants as his hips sped up. He slid his hand down, pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hips, drilling himself even deeper and groaning when you moaned his name, tightening around him.

"There," You managed to gasp, and Yoongi shifted, giving himself a little more leverage to speed up, fucking against the spot that had made you react so perfectly for him. He wondered under the fog of his mind if you'd ever felt it before, if your fingers could reach it, if you had been waiting for him to find it. Or maybe, he hoped as he reached down to swirl his fingers around your clit, maybe you would only associate it with him. The spot that he hit just right, the spot that he could find with ease.

"Choking me," He hissed out, never easing up. Your legs tightened around his hips, and your walls sucked him in like every pullback of his cock was a loss you couldn't stomach. You were close, he knew that reaction, knew those sounds like the back of his hand and he was determined to feel you cum on his dick. "Go on, pretty, let go for me. I know you're almost there, you can let go."

His words were soft, sweet, washing over your like ocean waves and dragging you down into your orgasm, air ripping from your lungs as you released around him. You trembled, your hips grinding up to meet his desperate movements, and his movement slowed down to ease you through it.

His movements didn't stop even as you came down, and it was hard to say if he was urging you towards a second one or if he was just too transfixed by the feeling of your walls finally wrapping around him like they'd been waiting for him to slide into you.

"Want you to cum too," You said, the hand in his hair moving to guide his lips towards you, pulling him into a kiss. The taste of him on your lips was like a drug, his tongue slipping past your lips to map out your mouth and his teeth dragging against your lip, not hard enough to be considered a bite, but certainly enough for you to know he could. It didn't take anything more than the kiss to push him over the edge, his groan getting lost in the press of your lips, and his hips pressing flush into yours as he spilled into you.

The kiss slowed, still hungry and desperate, but languid now as if he were savoring the moment of you two pressed so close together. Once he was out of breath, he pulled away, nuzzling into your neck and dragging you as close as he possibly could given your position. He rolled you onto your side with him so the two of you were tangled together, his softening cock finally slipping out of you and his leg trapping yours between his own.

"How was it?" He asked after a few moments of stroking his fingertips against your waist. You kept your eyes closed, basking in his attention and letting a smile curl on your lips.

"It was perfect." You said, pressing closer so he couldn't see the way your smile grew.

"Only the best for my darling." He said, tipping your chin up to kiss you again. You smiled against his lips before pulling away a bit. He followed your lips, and you giggled.

"Yours, huh?" You asked, fingertips drumming against his bare chest.

"I want you to be. Always have. Now more than ever.  don't want anyone else to have you like I do." He confessed without hesitation, and the sincerity in his voice genuinely surprised you. Your teasing gaze softened, and you kissed him once more.

"Nobody will. They couldn't even if they wanted to. I'm all yours."

“Sorry, I just heard you singing and I wanted to tell you how impressive it is.” He said. Your stomach dropped, and your palms became clammy. You clenched your fists tighter. “What’s your name?”

“You heard that?” You repeated back to him. He nodded slowly.

“Is that an original? I’d love to hear more of it.” It was your turn to nod this time, bobbing your head dumbly as you tried to process what he’d said. Nobody had heard you sing in so long, you’d made sure of that. And now this stranger was praising you for it.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You said, moving to step past him. Hoseok wouldn’t be out of his dance team practice for a few more minutes, so you had more than enough time to meet him, but you couldn’t stand still and have this conversation. Not now. 

“Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I was just really hoping to talk to you for a second.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. You made a silent reminder to file a complaint about the lack of soundproofing in the practice rooms.

“Right, but you know what they say, stranger danger and whatever. So I think I should probably…” You nodded towards the end of the hall. He chuckled, appearing to be at a loss for words.

“Yeah, strangers. Well, I’m Min Yoongi. I usually hang around here…in case you change your mind. I’d really like to hear more of your music.”

“Listen, you've got it wrong. I’m not a musician, I’m studying film. I was just hanging around, killing time, you know?” You honestly felt sort of bad, he genuinely looked like he was stepping out of his comfort zone talking to you like this. You smiled, though it was a little bit forced.

“Y/N, there you are! Come on,” Hoseok called from the end of the hall, waving for you to hurry up. You nodded.

“I’m really sorry for wasting your time,” You told the stranger. “I’ll see you around.”

You jogged off to meet Hobi at the end of the hall, looking back over your shoulder to where the boy – Yoongi – was still looking at you.

“What was that about?” Hoseok asked. You shook your head at him.

“It’s nothing. He, uh, he heard me playing the piano.”

There was a long silence with nothing but your footsteps and the breathing between the two of you to fill the air.

“How do you feel?” He asked, carefully choosing his words. You knew what he meant, though. 

“Guilty I think.” You answered. He nodded like he’d been expecting that. You didn’t ask why, and he didn’t push you to talk about it any further.

Yoongi was left baffled, and a bit dejected actually. He didn’t have any idea who you were, just the sound of your voice taking over his every thought, and the name your friend had called to you. He didn’t have high hopes of seeing you again, the university was fairly large after all, and he didn’t know where to begin. But there was one person who just might.

Jin tapped a long finger against his chin as he thought. They were in the campus library where Yoongi’s most trusted friend worked during the school months. Jin turned back towards the books he was shelving.

“You said she’s a film major?” He asked. Yoongi nodded. Seokjin was something of a prince around the campus, handsome, intelligent, and well-off financially. Not to mention he was earning a business degree that was guaranteed to get him someplace in the future. Still, none of that measured up to his sense of humor and his unwavering loyalty in Yoongi’s eyes. Jin was the sort of man he could understand envying.

His friend took a moment to think, passing the book he held back and forth between his hands. Yoongi’s body mimicked the motion, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Y/N Y/L/N, film major. She’s the same age as us I think, friends with the captain of the dance team. You know, the cute one with the smile.” Jin told him, waving a hand through the air.

“So you know her?”

“Well,” He put the book back where it belonged. “Not exactly. But I know her friend, which is essentially the same thing.”

Yoongi didn’t agree with that actually, but he wasn’t as good with people as Jin, so maybe it was true. 

“Come to the dance competition with me this weekend. I’m sure she’ll be there,” Jin said. Yoongi hesitated, then laughed.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s called stalking,” He pointed out. Jin rolled his eyes.

“It’s called killing two birds with one stone. Relax, will you? Don’t you want to hear her sing again?”

The question made him stop again. Of course he did, her voice was keeping him up at night writing a song that only she could do justice. But surely he was being creepy to even consider this, tracking her down like he was. Still, something in him was begging him to try.

Dance competitions were, as a general statement, not your favorite environments. It was always loud before the performances began, and there were always too many people for your liking, but you hadn’t missed a single one since Hoseok had joined the dance team in high school. You and Namjoon took your seats, already eagerly awaiting the beginning of the performances and flipping through the program that they’d been giving out. Some of these teams were incredible, having gone to nationals the year prior, but you knew Hoseok had been whipping the boys into shape, literally and metaphorically.

The lights were beginning to dim, and an announcement was called asking everyone to return to their seats for the first performance of the night. A bright voice caught your attention from the other side of Namjoon, and you looked up to see a handsome boy pointing to the seats next to you. With him was Yoongi, and your heart leaped into your throat. You were really banking on never seeing him again, but here he was only a couple of days later. You looked away.

“Are those seats taken?”

Namjoon spared you a glance, and you weren’t sure if he noticed your panicked expression or not, but he shook his head. You half hoped the stranger would sit by you, putting a little bit extra space between you and Yoongi and consequently sparing you the awkwardness, but luck was simply not on your side. Yoongi sat to your right, his friend on the other side of him. You met Yoongi’s eye, and he gave you a small smile. You smiled back, never more grateful for dancers to take the stage.

Even during the breaks, you managed to escape conversation, slipping away to the bathroom or grabbing a snack. Anything to put some distance between you and Yoongi, and you almost felt bad just because of the defeated look on his face. But soon enough the competition was over, and Hoseok had led his team to a thrilling victory, earning them a spot at nationals. You were headed back to congratulate him with Namjoon hot on your heels before the other pair even had an opportunity to stand up.

When you saw Hoseok, you shouted his name, nearly bowling him over with the force behind your hug. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting your feet off the ground. You wiggled out of his arms with a grin.

“We, you’re all sweaty,” You complained, wiping his sweat off of you as best as you could.

“You do this every single time,” He said, rolling his eyes. You grinned even wider.

“And it’s true every single time.” You said, poking at his chest. “Good job out there, twinkle toes.”

“Thanks, little canary.” He said, but his attention was drawn away by someone else. You let the name sink in. Little canary, he hadn’t used that for you in so long that it almost felt foreign, but you felt a bubble of pride rise in your chest. You looked over to see the two people you’d been trying to escape greeting your best friend. You looked to Namjoon for an explanation, but he looked just as baffled as you were.

“Jin, what the hell are you doing here?” Hoseok seemed to brighten even more, though you weren’t sure how that was actually possible. Leave it to Hobi to be friends with anyone and everyone.

“I came to see you win. I figured I’d come to say congratulations while I was here,” The man - Jin - told him, and you fake gagged at the absolute flirtation in his voice which made Namjoon and Yoongi laugh. For some reason, the sound of Yoongi’s laugh made your heart flutter in your chest. Annoying.

“Good to know you were watching me,” Hoseok flirted back. Ew. You didn’t remember the name Jin from Hoseok’s stories, but you assumed they were fairly well acquainted by the way their conversation was beginning to feel like something to be shared behind closed doors. “Actually, some of us were gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up. You should come with us. Your friend too.”

“For fucks sake,” You grumbled to yourself. Why couldn’t anything go your way? Was this your punishment? Your friends looked at you, but you just smiled tightly and shook your head. You weren’t really in the habit of making enemies in the name of personal grievances.

“Yeah, sure. Where should we meet up?” Jin asked. Yoongi didn’t look overly enthused at the prospect you noticed, or maybe he’d just checked out of the conversation entirely. It was hard to say when he was staring straight at you.

“I’ll text you an address, meet us there at nine?” Hobi asked. The two guests agreed and finally went their own way. You didn’t say much as all three of you returned to your apartment building. You split away from the boys, heading to your apartment and throwing yourself into getting ready for a night out.

You wondered as you did your makeup if you were being unfair. You’d developed a less than sunny disposition over the past year or so, and a distrust of…well, pretty much everyone. Your boys had been trying to get you to open up and let your walls come down, but it was slow going. Still, you thought you were beginning to see light filtering in through the cracks, and that scared you.

Once you were all made up, you headed to the boys’ apartment one floor above you, herding the two out to get a cab. The ride was the most peaceful part of the night, and that was gone the second you made it to the club Hoseok always chose. It was as loud as you remembered it being the last time you’d been. When you found Yoongi and Jin, they were already mingling with the other members of the Bangtan University dance team.

You greeted the younger boys with squeezes to their arms or affectionate ruffles of their hair, already relaxing at the familiarity of having your juniors around. They were good kids, you were grateful to watch them grow into young men.

You raised your hand in greeting to the newcomers, more of a peace offering than a friendly gesture. Yoongi was a friend of a friend (or rather the friend of a friend’s friend, but that was a bit wordy wasn’t it? You digress) and besides poking at a sore spot that he couldn’t possibly know existed, he hadn’t done anything wrong. So being hostile towards him wasn’t fair, even if it was instinct, but he had a long way to go before you’d call him a friend.

“Everyone’s here, we should do shots!” Jungkook said. You knew it was his favorite way to start off a night out with your friend group, so you seconded it which earned a loud complaint from Namjoon.

Jungkook headed for the bar, and Jin agreed to go with him, Tae following close behind. While they were gone, attention shifted to Hoseok again, as it usually did when there was a lull in the conversation. He was good at getting the ball rolling again.

“So,” You began. “How long have you and Jin known each other?”

There were a few excited agreements, everyone wanting to know more about this stranger and how he’d come to be invited to an oh-so-sacred night out. Hobi laughed.

“We met last semester, remember the study group I was in? Jin works in the library so he’d talk to us sometimes. That’s all, we’re just friends.”

“Right, just friends,” Joon laughed. “Because all friends have to emphasize that unprompted.”

“Let him have fun, hyung,” Jimin teased. “When’s the last time he was this relaxed.”

And you did have to agree with that statement. As much as you enjoyed teasing your friends about their love lives and the way they flirted, you were relieved to see him as happy and laid back as he was now.

The night went on like that, everyone loosened up with a couple of drinks in their systems and music pulsing through them like a heartbeat. You were grateful for your ability to hold your liquor by a few hours later in the night. You sipped your whiskey, looking around for your friends. You’d lost the youngest three among the crows, but you could see Jin and Hoseok, though you half wished you couldn’t with the way they were dancing pressed up against each other. It was just you, Namjoon, and Yoongi left at your table, and you were keeping to yourself more than you usually would have. You caught your name leaving Namjoon’s mouth, and you quickly pushed yourself to stand up.

“Gonna get some water, be right back.” You said. The boys nodded and you bobbed and weaved through the crowd of intoxicated strangers on your way back to the bar. You ordered your water, sitting down on one of the stools. You had a paper to finish tomorrow, and as much as you wanted to stay intoxicated, a hangover was the friend of no student.

“Can I get a water too?” A voice asked beside you. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Yoongi, which only served to irritate you. You didn’t want to recognize his voice, or his laugh, not even his pretty fucking face. You weren’t being fair, but life wasn’t fair, and you were even more unbearable with a couple of drinks in your system.

“What, are you stalking me now?” You asked, sipping your water. Yoongi didn’t respond, but he looked a bit taken aback by the hostility.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I didn’t mean to make an enemy.” He said finally, tracing the rim of his water glass.

“Right. I wouldn’t say enemy, I’m just not sure why you’re following me around.” You took another drink.

“I was serious when I told you your voice was impressive. I write music, I’m studying production, and I really think you could help me make this song I’m working on better.” He said. The proposal sounded rehearsed, and you truly did feel bad for turning him down.

“I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to find someone else. I quit music.” You forced a smile despite the pain that saying those words brought.

“Please, I can’t stop thinking about-”

“Stop it. I really don’t mean to disrespect you, but I really can’t just…start singing again. You seem great, really, but you don’t know me, or my past. So please, just understand that I can’t sing for you.” You stood up, and Yoongi sighed, following your lead in getting to his feet.

“Then don’t sing. I won’t ask you to, just help me make something amazing. Give me your opinions, that’s all I ask. I can tell you have good taste, I just need your mind.” He gave it one last try, looking more passionate than you’d seen him before. You weren’t sure what to do with someone who loved the thing you’d cut out of your life just as much as you once had. Maybe as you still did. “Just think about it, text me when you’ve made up your mind.”

He handed you a napkin, his number scribbled on it. You stared at it, half wondering if he carried a pen everywhere he went.

“Right, I think I’m gonna head home. Could you let my friends know for me?” You folded the napkin, tucking it into the pocket of your jeans. Yoongi nodded, and you smiled. This time it was genuine. This guy was persistent, and normally that would irritate you. But with him, it was endearing. You had to admire that level of perseverance.

“So what are you gonna do?” Hoseok asked as you pondered the napkin you’d been given. You shrugged, poking at your meal, chasing a grain of rice back and forth across the plate. It was your weekly lunch with the boys, all of you just discussing the ups and downs of your week.

“I’m not…a musician anymore,” You said. Your friends both shifted in their seats around the table. You raised an eyebrow at them.

“It’s just that you’ve put so much distance between you and your music. You’re miserable, it’s like being friends with a zombie,” Hoseok explained, and rather bluntly at that. Your jaw dropped, but Namjoon interrupted before you spoke You settled instead for shoving a bite of food into your mouth.

“We don’t mean that you should dive headfirst back into it. But punishing yourself like this is killing you, and we can’t just stand by and watch you anymore.” Namjoon sighed and reached out to lay a hand over yours. You tried not to fidget away from the touch, feeling a bit put off with the attention on you. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough?”

There was a creeping sense of panic that had you becoming a bit sick to your stomach. You laid your free hand against your stomach

“How could it be enough?” You asked, looking desperately between the two of them. You were aching for an answer, hoping the two of them could make it all easier.

“Just try. You have to forgive yourself eventually. Please text him,” Namjoon tried again.

This time, you didn’t have it in you to argue. So you nodded and tried to ignore the bitter taste of self-loathing lingering in the back of your throat.

Sending the text was nerve-wracking, almost as much as receiving one back. I’m not going to sing you’d told him, but I’ll listen to what you’re working on. You regretted giving in right up until the moment Yoongi was welcoming you into his dorm room.

The space was small, a two-person dorm that appeared to be occupied by someone else as well, but who you weren’t sure. There were traces of Yoongi all across the small shared living space, posters, and pictures of him and his friends. There were a few notebooks here and there, and textbooks sitting out on the table by the small couch. All in all the space was fairly near. You wondered if he always kept the dorm clean or if he’d made it up just for you.

“Come on, my setup is in my room,” He told you. You nodded, following him into his bedroom. Honestly, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about his room besides the setup he had at his desk. His workspace rivaled the mini recording studio in your university’s music wing.

“Wow, this is amazing. Did you do this yourself?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, I started buying everything back in high school, saved up for years. It’s still not everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m pretty happy with the results.” He told you. You nodded along as he gave you a little tour of everything.

“My mom used to have this makeshift studio in our spare room,” You said with a smile. “I’ve never really understood all this techy stuff, it's really impressive.”

 Yoongi watched you admire his hard work with a bashful smile of his own. You seemed less abrasive now than you had before, more relaxed as you made yourself just small enough to share his space. He liked it.

“I could teach you if you wanted. The techy stuff, I mean. Recording, producing.” You looked at him, and he had to fight off his laughter at how your eyes burned bright at the offer.

“Yeah, that would be cool. But let me hear this song first, I have to make sure you’re legit.” You told him, half teasing.

He sat down in the desk chair that was more or less wedged between the desk and the end of his bed, clicking through a few files on the laptop he had sitting there. There wasn’t enough room to walk between the chair and the bed, barely enough room to scoot up beside him.

“You can sit there,” He motioned towards the end of the bed, and you took your seat at his right, just slightly behind him. He handed you a pair of headphones, putting on his own and waiting for you to do the same.

You watched as Yoongi sorted through files with a practiced speed. There were tons of them, some labeled with titles, some with just dates. You wondered how many songs he had tucked away in those files of his. Finally, he clicked on one.

“I haven’t finished writing up lyrics yet, so it’s mostly just the backing track.” He said, voice quiet as he focused on loading up the track. “I added a rap verse. Might cut it from the final product, I haven’t quite decided,”

The more he talked, the more anxiety built up in your stomach. Who were you to judge his music? He clearly had more knowledge than you did, and an endless passion for the process. You on the other hand, well you were rusty at best. You’d hardly given music a listen unless you were with other people. Maybe you just weren’t ready for this. You focused instead on him. The curve of his eyelashes, the slope of his nose, and the hair at the nape of his neck that had begun to curl from growing a bit too long.

“Hitting play.” He said. You closed your eyes, pushing down the nerves as the music began. It was a sweet piano melody that was reminiscent of the one you’d been playing the day you met him. It was lilting, almost playful as it went on. Over it was a muted arrangement of strings and a pulsing electronic beat. It was breathtaking.

You could only imagine how pretty it would sound with a guitar dancing around the piano melody and a soft vocal line. You were getting lost in it when the rap verse came in. You were never a fan of rap, but Yoongi’s voice was clear and smooth in contrast to the raw intensity. It gave you chills.

When the song finished, it was as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. You blinked a few times, looking over at Yoongi as he took off his headphones. You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just wrapped up in how beautiful the work in progress was.

“It’s not done yet, it’ll get better.” He said, shifting a bit uncomfortably. You wondered how often he showed people his music if he still seemed so nervous about it all. You smiled.

“It can get better than this? It’s so good, Yoongi.” You promised, resting your hand on his arm. “Seriously. I have an idea though. If I may.”

He was quick to nod, and you shifted towards him, launching immediately into what you had been thinking about while you were listening. You explained your thoughts for a guitar addition, and what you thought the vocals should sound like. It was easy to get lost in this with him, in building a song up to everything you both knew it could be, everything that you both wanted.

The time was passing by faster than you imagined it would with the both of you brainstorming lyrics. It was late in the evening when you finally noticed the time, your stomach starting to ache with hunger and your brain running dry.

“Hey, it’s late, I should head out.” You said after a minute. Yoongi looked up from the notebook he’d been working in, a look of disappointment flashing over his features. You tried not to think too much about it.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for helping me with this. It’s coming out really great.” He told you. You shrugged off the compliment.

“It’s nothing. Text me if you wanna get together again. Maybe we can grab food and work on those lyrics sometime.” You told him, gathering your things and shoving them back into your bag. Leaving was hard, and that made you worry, but it was also hard to worry with Yoongi around. He had a way of easing your mind now that you were giving him the opportunity.

A week or so had passed, and with neither of you managing time to meet up in person, phone calls and facetime calls had become a common occurrence between you and him. Usually just for a few minutes, bouncing lyric ideas or little melodies off of each other.

It had become so commonplace that your friends had grown used to you sneaking off to answer his calls. Which is what you’d just finished doing now, returning to the boys’ sitting area where everyone was hanging out.

“Have a good talk with your boyfriend?” Jimin teased. You rolled your eyes, flopping onto the couch between Namjoon and Jungkook.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And I did have a nice talk, thank you very fucking much.” You glared at the younger boy, but he didn’t say anything in response. You’d grown accustomed to the teasing from them over how much time you spent with Yoongi. It had taken you months to warm up to the younger members of the Bantan dance team, so for a complete stranger to waltz into your life and take up your time was unheard of.

You, on the other hand, made a conscious effort not to think about it. You didn’t like new people, and you weren’t a big fan of change in any setting, let alone one that could bring emotional distress. But Yoongi was harmless, he was a good person with a heart of gold, and all he was doing was giving you the inspiration that you’d thought was gone for good. Namjoon always said that despite their teasing, Yoongi was good for you.

“So how’s the song coming?” Hoseok asked as the teasing and cruel giggles died down. Your eyes shifted to look at him, then at the other boys who were watching you attentively. You didn’t often talk about the fact that you two were working on a song together, you had avoided the topic of music quite successfully up until this moment and you were not exactly grateful to be dragged back into speaking of it.

“It’s going well. Lyrics are slow going, but I think that’s because he wants me to take the lead,” You said, shifting uncomfortably. You knew full well that the boys just wanted you to do what was best for you, but that didn’t mean that it was easy, or that it always felt good. Especially when you were looking back on it and not living it actively.

“That’s good. You should play it for us when you finish it!” Jungkook said, playfully nudging your arm. He was a good kid, you were lucky he was there. Sometimes it felt like he and Namjoon were the glue that held the group together in tense moments like this when all you wanted to do was kick Hoseok in the head hard enough to knock him unconscious. You didn’t assault your best friend.

“Yeah, maybe. I’m not sure, that’s up to him I guess.” You said, shrugging it off.

“That’s true, but you should still ask him. Maybe you guys can perform it,”

Hoseok again. Sticking his nose where it didn’t fucking belong and pushing buttons he had no right. You huffed.

“Yeah, probably not.” You said. “I hate to cut things short, but I have some homework to do, so I think I should head out.”

You watched as everyone argued that you should stay, and you caught Taehyung sending a glare in Hoseok’s direction. You knew you weren’t being as level-headed as you would have liked to be, but you couldn’t help it. Hoseok knew better than anyone what you’d been dealing with, he’d watched the life drain from your eyes, and now he was putting you on the spot in front of all your friends.

“Sorry boys, I’ll see you later okay?” You said, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. You weren’t trying to leave on bad terms, but you figured it was best to distance yourself before you said something you didn’t mean.

You made your goodbye quick, slipping out the door and speed walking towards the stairs. Damn apartment building with its damn broken elevator. You had almost made it when you heard your name. You turned begrudgingly.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that back there.” Hoseok said, his hands shoved in his pockets. You scoffed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You agreed. There was a long pause, neither of you knowing where to go from there. “I’ll get over it. But it was inconsiderate and I needed some space. So I’ll text you later.”

He nodded, and you gave him a pressed smile before turning to head back home. You hated leaving him like this, leaving on bad terms always made your stomach churn with anxiety.

“Hoseok?” You waited for him to look up at you again. “I love you.”

He smiled, and you smiled back.

You were home a few minutes, restless and frustrated. You loved Hoseok, and you would be fine. You’d been friends for so long and you came out of every confrontation just as close as you always were. But it was irritating to have him poke your sore spots and embarrass you in front of your friends. And you felt even worse that you were mad about it.

You weren’t sure when you’d become so reliant on Yoongi’s presence to make you feel better, but there you stood in the middle of your bedroom with your phone in your hand, dialing his number at 9 pm on a Thursday evening. But he picked up in no time, and the tension eased from your muscles.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked. You swallowed.

“Are you home? Can I come over?” You asked him in return. You heard shifting on his end of the line.

“Yeah, you can come over. Is everything okay?” Yoongi asked. You hummed a bit dismissively.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to…I don’t know, not be here I guess. I’ll be over soon.” You said, already hanging up so he couldn’t ask more questions. You gathered your notebooks and slipped on your shoes to head back to the dorms to see him.

The walk wasn’t long, you’d opted for the cheapest apartments just off campus, and you were grateful that Jin and Yoongi lived on the side closest to you. But the cool evening air was sobering. You ran through the lyrics you were working on, something to distract you from the emotions boiling beneath the surface that you always tried not to acknowledge.

Yoongi was waiting for you in his dorm, stretched out on the couch and scrolling on his phone. Jin wasn’t in the dorm, but you’d found that to be quite common. He sat up when you walked in, not bothering to knock - something else that had become a daily practice for the two of you.

“What happened?” He asked you.

“I had some lyric ideas, I thought that maybe we could work on it.” You said, sitting down in the space he’d made for you and opening up the notebook you’d been working in. It was true that you‘d come up with some lyrics, but mostly you just wanted to be close to him. You wondered if he could tell. But if he did notice that you were acting strangely, he didn’t say so.

“Okay, but come down to the laundry rooms with me, I have a couple of loads running, and the last time I left them unattended someone stole my favorite shirt.” He told you. You wanted to laugh, but you knew that college students were nothing if not assholes, so you agreed, gathering your things and following him downstairs through the building.

The basement where the row of washing and drying machines were lined up was cool and musty in the way that most basements were. Yoongi climbed up onto one of the machines, and you jumped up on the one beside him, making yourself as comfortable as you could be with the cold steel digging against your skin. There wasn’t any talk about your days, you just swapped feedback, constructing a few lines of the second verse while he worked on the rap verse that he’d written, trying to tweak it into the shape he wanted. You liked when he rapped, it was like you could see his entire being, like he was laying himself out bare and vulnerable before you.

“Hey, have you tried layering harmonies over the rap?” You asked him. He looked up, waiting for you to continue. “You know, like having a vocalist harmonize with this rap part here to give it more depth,” You tapped the eraser of your pencil against a few lines on his notebook.

“Would you try it with me?” He asked. You looked at him like a deer in the headlights, and he quickly followed up with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready. I won’t make you.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. It had been several weeks, and you’d never opened up to anyone about this besides your closest friends. But somehow you felt guilty keeping Yoongi in the dark. He was ever patient with you, always gentle in approaching the subject of music.

“Music was my mom’s thing. She was a music teacher, and she helped me write that song you heard me sing that day.” You told him. It was quiet aside from the chugging hum of the washing machine. You could feel him looking at you, but you didn’t look back. “And my mom died a little over a year ago. I hadn’t made music since then. I don’t deserve to.”

“Music isn’t something you have to earn.” He said carefully. You tried not to scoff.

“My mom was my favorite person in the world. She supported me through everything, no questions asked. But the night she died…” You cleared your throat in an attempt to push the lump forming there back down. “The night she died she had told me I shouldn’t go to this open mic thing going on. There were gonna be lots of scouts and people in the industry that could have helped me get a leg up, you know? And it was stupid, she wouldn’t have told me not to go if she thought it would be worthwhile.” 

You sniffled, your fingers spinning your pencil to focus the nervous energy building inside of you. You hated talking about this, hated thinking about what might have gone through her head. Hating that you had done the unforgivable.

“We fought about it. We used to fight a lot, but it was never really bad. We would always make up right away and move on. But I said awful things. I told her she didn’t care about me, that she never let me chase my dreams because…” You choked back a sob. “Because she couldn’t make it so she didn’t want me to. That’s the last thing I said to her.”

You felt Yoongi’s hand land on yours, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. You sniffled, swiping away your tears with your free hand. You cleared your throat.

“I never got to say goodbye, or that I’m sorry. So I couldn’t let myself make music again. That was something that belonged to her, and it was the reason I turned my back on her.” You said. You didn’t feel that way as much now. You’d begun to think that maybe she understood, she’d always had a knack for understanding what was going on inside your head. Maybe she’d forgiven you. Maybe she could see you now and wanted you to be as happy as you once were.

“Y/N, I’ve seen how much you love music. And your mother.” Yoongi started. If it were anyone else you would have snapped. Who was he to talk about you, or your music, and least of all your mother? But this was Yoongi, and he was good to you. “I didn’t know her, but I’m sure if she was anything like you are she wouldn’t want you to suffer for the rest of your life without the thing you love to do. If anything I think this was meant to remind you to keep chasing what you love.”

“How can I follow this when I never got closure?” You asked, half snapping. He didn’t pull away from you, he didn’t even flinch. If anything his intensity seemed to double down.

“Make this your closure. Do you really think your mom is at peace knowing that you’re beating yourself up every second of every day for loving something so deeply?” He asked. You exhaled, the pieces finally lining up.

Your mother had never wanted you to change who you were or how you felt. Not for anyone but yourself.

“No…she’d never forgive me for giving it up,” You admitted quietly. Yoongi smiled, giving your hand another squeeze before letting go. You took a deep breath.

“Then don’t give up. Make this your closure, prove to her that you’re not going to let one thing you love outweigh the other.” He told you.

You nodded, and you swore she’d smile down at you now. You wondered, though you weren’t sure what you believed about heaven and the like, if she was watching over you. If she’d brought Yoongi to you for just this reason. Maybe it was finally time to be finished suffering. You could let your music prove to her that you loved her unconditionally, that you regretted what you’d said, that you were sorry.

“Thanks, Yoongi. For everything. And especially for not giving up on me.” You told him.