#minyoongi fanfic

[bts-0t-7]

Sharing The Moment | MYG

Pair: Yoongi x reader 

Summary: You and your son went to D-Day 3 to support Yoongi. Your son stole the show after appearing on stage and ARMY was absolutely… swooned. 

Genre: fluff, established relationship, parents au, married au

WC: 1169

Before the both of you stepped into the stadium, you could feel the ground vibrating from all the fan’s anticipation. The arena felt alive before the real show even started. It was the last day of Yoongi’s D-Day tour in Seoul and all the fans were there early. Whether is it giving out fanmade gifts, food, or drinks, they - Is that a tangerine in her hand? And is that a whole bag of it?!

The atmosphere was electric but for you, today was something even more special. You were not only here as a fan but also as Yoongi’s family. While ARMY’s certainly had eagle eyes, they have yet to catch on that you weren’t the only surprise that day. Your son, Min Ji-Hye, a carbon copy of his dad, was the source of the surprise. His little body was buzzing with energy. 

Since young, Ji-Hye has looked up to his father’s music and absolutely idolizes him. Every time Yoongi works from home or comes home with new music, Ji-Hye would demand listening to it even if it is the rawest version. Of course, Yoongi tries to keep the cursing to a minimum whenever Ji-Hye is around. 

The both of you found your seats in the middle catalogs which the staff has reserved especially for the both of you. Ensuring that Ji-Hye wouldn’t fall off his bumper seat, you started to set the area for the both of you so that you wouldn’t miss a single second to find some water. You were so engrossed in ensuring that your son had everything he needed that you didn’t realise Jin and Hobi were standing right next to you. 

You jumped when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, immediately turning around with large eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t cause trouble for your husband if you got mobbed or something during his concert. But you found two laughing figures and calmed down once you heard Jin’s signature laugh. 

“Yah, don’t scare me like that!” You chided.

“It was you who weren’t paying attention! We were here the whole time!”

You were about to shoot back another snarky remark when - “Seoul, ARE YOU READY?” 

Cheers from all directions engulfed you as fireworks lit up the stage. Yoongi came blasting from the backstage and no matter how many times you have been to BTS concerts, you never get tired of seeing them perform. The raw passion in their movements and voices always ensures that the audience has one of the best concerts. 

You turned over to see Ji-Hye at the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the stage. You had dressed him in Yoongi’s stage outfit, complete with a cap that looked a few sizes too big (it was taken from Yoongi’s closet). With his cat-like eyes and gummy smile, he was essentially Yoongi 2.0. 

Watching your son sing and jump to the lyrics of his father, your lips curled upwards in a loving smile. While he didn’t quite understand the depth and innuendos of the songs, he was enjoying himself and you knew how much this concert meant to him. With the news of Yoongi’s enlistment, you knew that your time together would be cut short for two years. 

You had told him that telling ARMY a day after the concert wasn’t going to be the best decision but management pulled through so it was scheduled as it is. So both of you continued to enjoy the concert with the new addition of Uncle Namjoon. 

As the music filled the stadium, Yoongi delivered an electrifying performance, pouring his heart and soul into every lyric. His presence on stage was magnetic and the fans were completely enthralled. You thought that you could hold back the tears as he broke down in front of all his fans but the tears streamed down your cheeks, staining them in a salty caress. 

Amidst the sea of fans, Ji-Hye suddenly squirmed and wriggled his way past the people in front of him. Running down the steps, you tried to catch him when Namjoon suddenly grabbed your wrist. “He’s safe, don’t worry. There are guards everywhere.”

But you couldn’t help but worry. What if he got lost? What if fans start to swarm around him and he can’t make it to Yoongi or any of the guards in time? Your heart skipped a beat as you saw his little figure making his way up the stage. There was a collective gasp from the fans nearby as they realised what was happening. 

The surrounding security personnel recognised him and allowed him to approach the stage, guiding him carefully so that he didn’t fall down the large steps. Yoongi had just finished a ‘Life Goes On’ and was taking a moment to catch his breath when he saw little feet running up towards him. His eyes widened and broke out into a huge grin when he saw him, squatting down to his level and spreading his arms. The fans, realising that he was Yoongi’s son, started to cheer even louder. 

The moment Ji-Hye crashed into Yoongi, every ounce of fear that Ji-Hye would be afraid of the cheers washed away in that instance. Yoongi scooped him up, hugging him tightly as your son laughed into the microphone, causing another wave of cheers to vibrate the stadium. It was a moment of pure, unscripted love between a father and his son. You stared at the two most important people in your life on stage, celebrating as if they were the only ones in the world. 

The fans were absolutely swooning - taking in this whole scene with hearty eyes and red faces - their hearts melted by the sheer adorableness of the scene. They watched as Ji-Hye whispered something into Yoongi’s ear and Yoongi’s eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. 

Yoongi turned to the fans, holding Ji-Hye high above his head like the scene from Lion King. “This is my son, Min Ji-Hye.” He announced proudly. “He’s a little ARMY like all of you.”

The fans erupted into cheers, shouting their love for both Yoongi and his son. Ji-Hye waved at the crowd, his gummy smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. Your heart felt so big that it was going to explode. 

As the concert continued, Yoongi held Ji-Hye in his arms, dancing with him on stage during a couple of songs. It was a moment of pure joy and it was clear that this concert had become something extraordinary - not just for the fans but for Yoongi and your family. 

After the concert, Yoongi was still beaming with light as he continued to hold Ji-Hye in his arms. “You know, you stole the show today.” He chuckled to his son.  

Ji-Hye looked up at his father, eyes shining with admiration. “Daddy!” He swung his little legs. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

Yoongi’s heart swelled with love. “You can be anything you want. Just remember to always be yourself.”

[btsficsandsuch]

Okay love how An Ungodly Dream started!!!

Thank you for taking my request into consideration, I love it, of course I would like a little more angsty part, you can take as much time as you like, I'm in no hurry and neither should you💜💜

Here’s part 2! This one gets pretty angsty. Warning: Mentions of demons/demon activity, Death, Also gets suggestive. PART 1 HERE

An Ungodly Dream

Even if you had 1,000 chances to guess how you��d be spending a Thursday night you never would’ve guessed sitting in your living room talking to a demon but here you are. “Soooo Yoongi, were you born a demon or how did this happen?”, you asked unsure if that was even okay to ask but you weren’t sure about boundaries when it came to demons. He chuckled, “It’s kind of a long story but no I wasn’t born a demon. I actually signed a contract with this guy and in exchange for him doing something for me I agreed to become one his servants.” You nodded unsure of what your next question should be.

Yoongi could tell that you had a lot more on your mind. He began, “Look Y/N there’s a lot about this you’ll never understand but I’ll try to make it as simple as I can. About six years ago I was really in love with this girl. She was my everything. One day she passed out at home and after they ran some tests in the emergency room they told us she had incurable brain cancer and was given three months to live. I was devastated and I knew I’d do anything to not loose her.” He ran his hands over his face and sighed. This story was clearly hard for him to tell but he continued anyways, “One night shortly after that, I went to a bar to try and drink away the pain. While there I met a man who told me his name was Jin. He said he could take away any pain in the world in exchange for something small. He had my attention so I followed him to a back room. He pulled out a piece of paper that I didn’t really understand but at the time I didn’t really care. He basically said he would heal my girlfriend so that she’d be cancer free and all I had to do was agree to work for him. In my drunken grieving state I didn’t even ask any questions, not even how he knew about the cancer when I never even told him that. I signed the paper and before I could say anything else he was gone. Well a week goes by and I assume it must’ve just been a drunken dream because nothing has happened. Then we go to my girlfriends appointment and there are like nine doctors from all over the world. One of them pulls up her brain scan from the day before and tells us how the cancer is completely gone. They’ve never seen anything like it before and it’s a medical miracle that she was cancer free. I was ecstatic. The love of my life was healed and no longer weeks from death. I didn’t even think about the contract that I signed. So a couple weeks go by and I come home from work and hear a strange sound coming from the bedroom. I gently pushed opened the door and saw my girlfriend in bed with another guy. When I confronted them she told me that she had a new lease on life or some bullshit like that and didn’t want to be tied down to one person any more. So I packed a bag and went back to the bar to drink away the heartbreak. That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Jin standing there. He told me how he had held up his end of the contract and now it was my turn. So I’ve spent the last six years doing his bidding all for a girl who in the end didn’t even love me and I have no way out of it.”

You were speechless. Yoongi’s eyes didn’t move from the the coffee cup on the table in front of him. After some time you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m really sorry that happened to you Yoongi. I really am.” He gave you a small smile. “Any other questions?”, he asked trying to change the subject. “Um yeah a ton but I don’t even really know where to begin. What kind of things do you normally do for this Jin guy? Is there anyway for you to break the contract? Maybe a lawyer or something?” Yoongi chuckled at that, “Do you really think there are lawyers that specialize in demon contracts? No there’s no way out. Either fulfill the contract or cease to exist basically. As far as what I do. I do a little bit of everything. I’m a master of all trades.” There was that cockiness again that you hated but also kind of found attractive. He continued, “It depends on why I was summoned or what Jin had planned for me. Sometimes I’ll make deals with people and have them sign contracts to lure them in. Sometimes I’ll be an incubus if that’s what is requested of me.” You cleared your throat unsure if you want to ask your next question or if you’re just scared of the answer. You forgot that he can read minds but he answers before you can even ask. “I only physically hurt people if I’m commanded to by Jin. He’s like my boss. It’s rare for that to happen though. He mostly only cares about getting people to sign away their lives. The more contracts he has the more powerful he is.”

You nodded in acceptance of his answer feeling a little better. You had so many more questions but decided that it was late and he had opened up enough for the night. “So do you sleep or how does this work?”, you asked unsure of yourself. Yoongi smiled, “I can sleep. I don’t have to but sometimes it’s nice to just relax and pretend to be fully human again.” You awkwardly chuckled being reminded that this beautiful man in front of you was not actually human any more. “Go to sleep Y/N. I’ll be alright out here. We still have a lot to discuss tomorrow.”, he smiled over at you. You nodded and began walking back to your bedroom before turning around, “Goodnight Yoongi.” He smiled back at you, “Goodnight Y/N.”

Somehow you managed to fall asleep for a few hours before your alarm went off signaling you it was time to get ready for work. You quickly showered and changed eager to find out what your new demon roommate was up to. You weren’t expecting to walk into the kitchen and find a large breakfast prepared for you including pancakes, blueberry muffins, an omelette, and fresh squeezed orange juice and hot coffee. “Morning sleepyhead”, Yoongi smiled before handing you a mug. “I didn’t know you could cook.”, you said happily taking some coffee. “I used to be human or did you forget already.”, he laughed. You rolled your eyes, “No I didn’t forget. I just didn’t ever expect demons to be this nice. You know, usually they’re more demon-ish.” Yoongi smirked as he sat down next to you taking a bite of a muffin. “Not all demons are like that. Of course there are ‘bad’ demons but a lot of them are like me. We’re just trying to survive after making the choices that we did.”, he said taking a sip of juice. You nodded and silently ate your breakfast.

Yoongi told you to leave the dishes as he’d do them later since he had nothing else to do. You reluctantly agreed before grabbing your purse. “When I get back from work we can talk some more.”, you told him. He nodded before walking you to the door. “Oh and there might be some chicken in the fridge. You know in case you wanted to whip up something for dinner later.”, you said and he chuckled taking your hint. “Yes Dear. Anything else?”, he asked. You shook your head before saying a quick goodbye and closing the door behind you.

The day went by surprisingly quick. It probably had to do with the fact that you couldn’t wait to get home to see Yoongi. Somehow you found yourself actually kind of missing him. So once 5:00pm hit you found yourself rushing home quickly kicking off your shoes by the door and walking into the kitchen greeting Yoongi who was hard at work putting the finishing touches on dinner. “I hope you like it. It’s been a while since I cooked like this.”, he said shyly. “It looks amazing plus anything is better than what I would’ve been able to make.”, you chuckled. Taking a bite of the food you smiled. “It’s so good Yoongi. You’d really make a good husband one day.”, you said not noticing his shoulders drop at the compliment. The two of you ate in silence and then you washed the dishes with Yoongi’s help because he insisted. After you changed into some comfy clothes you met Yoongi who was already sitting on the couch mindlessly watching something on the tv. When he saw you walk in he shut it off, “I’m guessing you want to talk about some things.”

You nodded, “Yeah we probably should.” There was a long silence until you spoke, “How do I release you back since I summoned you on accident?” He bit his lip, “Well there are three ways to do that. The first being that I complete a task for you, it would be the reason you summoned me to begin with. The second is to have you sign a contract and you basically become one of us. The third is we have to wait for the next full moon and on that day we would follow the guidelines in that book you were reading. Looking at our options we’ll probably have to go with the third one.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, “I mean we could look at the other options. I know I didn’t intend to summon you but my boss has been a real jerk lately so maybe I can have you go mess with him a little. You know slam some doors. Open all of his kitchen cabinets in the middle of the night.” He laughed, “Y/N I’m a demon. Not a poltergeist. You’ve said it yourself that you didn’t mean to summon me. And there’s no way I’m letting you sign any contract so our only option is number three.”

Nodding in agreement you got up and retrieved the book from your room turning to the chapter on demons. Yoongi helped you flip through the pages before finding what he was looking for, “There that’s it.” You began reading through the pages wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all but at this point nothing shocks you anymore. You checked your phone, “Okay the next full moon is in three weeks.”, you said. “Okay then I guess we’re gonna get to know each other.”, Yoongi smiled. You wanted to say something sarcastic but deep down you felt your heart flutter at the thought.

The two of you spent the following week acting like an old married couple. You’d bicker about minor things only to return back to normal shortly after. He cooked you breakfast and dinner every day and even packed your lunch a couple days. The two of you ended up cuddling on the couch one night after falling asleep leading to you both waking up feeling awkward and confused.

Thankfully it was the weekend so you were able to get to spend more time with each other. It was Saturday evening and the two of you had decided to go out to dinner. Admittedly you maybe put a little more effort into your outfit than you needed to but it was worth it when you walked out and saw Yoongi checking you out. “You look very nice this evening.”, he said offering you his arm to hold onto. “Thank you. You clean up nice yourself.”, you responded. Since the weather was so nice and the restaurant wasn’t too far the two of you decided to walk. As you passed a group of guys standing against a wall Yoongi protectively put himself between you and the men while keeping his arm left arm around your waist. Just as you walked by them Yoongi suddenly stopped and whipped his head around to glare at one of the men wearing a blue baseball cap. “Weren’t you ever taught to respect women asshole? She’s not a toy for you to use as you please.”, he spat. Yoongi grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you away from the men before you could even question him but you assumed the guy had thought something provocatively about you and Yoongi heard his thoughts. You felt a smile creep up at the thought that he felt the need to defend you like that.

Dinner was one of the best nights you’d ever had. Yoongi had lots of stories about things he had done and seen. You listened very closely taking it all in. After dinner the two of you made your way back to your apartment and once inside you let your feelings overtake your brain. The alcohol from dinner probably didn’t help but you instinctively wrapped your hands around Yoongi’s neck pulling him closer to you and placing a kiss on his lips. You waited to see if he’d push you away. When he didn’t you pulled him in again and deepened the kiss. Then you moved to his dress shirt and you started unbuttoning it one by one as Yoongi removed the sweater you were wearing over your strapless dress.

The two of you made your way to your bedroom where Yoongi pushed you down onto your bed before going in for another kiss. The kisses went back and forth moving from your lips to various parts of your body. In-between kisses you managed a whispered, “Yoongi.” Not stopping he mumbled something which you took him as acknowledging you. You placed another kiss to his lips before speaking, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You weren’t sure what you expected. Hopefully for him reciprocate the feelings. At the worst just ignore you and pretend he didn’t hear you. What you didn’t expect was for him to jump back like something had just bit him. “Yoongi what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”, you asked concerned. “We can’t do this Y/N. There can’t be anything between us. We’re not the same and I’m not going to risk you being dragged down with me.”, he said quickly buttoning back up his shirt. “Yoongi I don’t understand. Everything has been so good between us. We can figure something out.”, you said reaching for him. He shook his head taking a step back from you, “No Y/N. It’s not like a long distance relationship or something. This is serious. There are things you just don’t understand. I ruined my life and I have to pay that price. I won’t let that also hurt you.” “Yoongi please. Help me understand. I’ll do what it takes to be with you.”, you cried. You watched at Yoongi opened your bedroom door. He turned around to look at you, “No Y/N. I won’t let you do that. I’m gonna stay in the spare room until the full moon is here and we can follow the protocol to release me. Just stay away from me until then. It’s for your own good.”

With that he walked out and shut the door behind him. You heard the faint click of the door to the spare room shut next to you. Sitting on the bed you began to sob into your pillow. You knew he was right. He was a demon after all and you seemed to forget that little detail. But even after you reminded yourself of that you still couldn’t help but feel your heart breaking at the fact that the man you loved was in the room next to yours but you were never going to be able to have him. Unless maybe you signed a contract of your own…

[moo-reads]

Min Yoongi

bold + italics = top fave!

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last updated: 02/23/24 ✿

[myrsis-safe-space]

Gagged omg

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

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

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

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[a2che6]

Cartas a Hyung. [ y.m ] - Primer carta. (en Wattpad) 

Park Jimin se siente desesperado por counicarse con YoonGi, así que recurre a las cartas como su última oportunidad para poder hacerlo.

YoonMin.

[ggukluvi]

Edit: Min Yoongi e Jeon Jungkook (YoonKook) ღ Modelos: Min Yoongi e Jeon Jungkook @bts.bighitofficial ღ Projeto: @jimagic_pjct ღ Fanfic: Alianças ღ Ficwriter: @JeonPark500 ღ Materiais usados: Padrões e outros ღ Tempo gasto: 42 minutos ღ Apps usados: Ibis Paint x, Polarr e PicsArt . . . . . . . #edit #manipulação #manipulation #kpopedit #art #kpop #ibispaintx #brushes #bts #kpopedits #btsesdit #btsedits #minyoongi #yoongi #suga #minyoongibts #minyoongiedit #bangtanboys #sugaedit #yoongiedits #polarr #jeonjungkook #jungkook #jk #jeonjungkookedit #jungkookedit #yoonkook #yoonkookedit https://www.instagram.com/p/Cmo2ltDLZ18/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sya07]

Need something to read? Check out my new fanfic on Wattpad

Description-

"You are so cute..can I bite your cheek?"

This is the worst thing you could say to the man whose house you barged in without him knowing, knocking urself on his bed.

- 4th may 2023

Updated every alternate day

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Picture of Love | 13 (M)

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language, hella fluff, hella smut, hella angst, dirty talk, cream pie, mentions of death, mentions of drug use

Words: 9,090

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her.  She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

A/N: This one’s ma favorite

Hoseok and I continue this routine, spending huge amounts of time together,  getting to know each other more and more throughout the next three weeks and surprisingly, I wouldn't want it any other way.

We would get ice cream together.

"So, you gonna let me pay for you this time?" J-Hope nagged after ordering  treats at the crowded ice cream parlor.

I laugh fondly at the memory of Jay fighting to pay for my ice cream at this same place and literally swatting my hands and running to pay for macaroons.

"Something tells me you're not gonna give me much of a choice." He chuckles, raising his eyebrows and nodding as if to say 'you thought correctly.' He always pays for the treats and we spend hours being silly and making fun of each other per usual. We visited the parlor so often that we made a deal: we would each try a different flavor with every visit just to switch things up a bit and we were on a first name basis with Gio, the owner of the place. He would always tease us about how cute we were in our "honeymoon" phase, which made me cringe, but filled Jay with pride every time.

Afterward, Jay always seemed to have some activity already picked out, the two of us behaving like a pair of tourists.

We've gone to the Museum of Modern Art, the Asian Art Museum and tried to hit a bunch of other art museums in the Bay area. It was so gratifying to have  someone around who was as interested in art as I was, who could actually have an opinion and hold a discussion about it.

"What do you think about this one?" I ask him as we approach yet another piece, arms linked. He looks it over, pointedly, takes a minute to process his thoughts and turns to me.

"I think it reminds me of you." He shares sincerely. I roll my eyes playfully and decide to humor him. "How so?" I gaze at him, awaiting his answer.

"Well, it's beauty, of course." I snort and nod teasingly. Jay is so smooth, he possesses the power to turn absolutely anything into a compliment.

"I mean, it's breathtaking." He goes on. "But in a mysterious way... It leaves something to be desired. If that makes any sense." He clarified the best  he could.

I nod, trying to understand. "So, you think I'm a mystery?" I question with furrowed brows. "Well, yes." He spoke, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, while I try to figure out whether to be offended or not.

"And I... Leave something to be desired?" I ask with my eyes to the ground in guilt.

I make it a point not to talk about my past or my family, unless absolutely necessary. Whenever the topic arises with J-hope and I, I try to evade it very quickly and it's clear now that he's well aware of this. I feel almost sorry that he has to put up with it, but the past haunts me daily and I'd never want to revisit it.

And when getting to know someone, it helps to actually know them, not just the "mysterious" front they put up to shield themselves from getting hurt the same way again. But it's a defense mechanism that's been my life for as long as I can remember.

Jay catches wind of my concern and tries to back track a bit. "No! No, no, no. You're amazing." He lifts my chin gently and drags my attention to his face.

"Huh, I just put my own foot in my mouth, I didn't mean it that way." I don't even know which way  I meant it.

"You're just a little... Reserved is all. And there's nothing wrong with that."

Great. So I'm not a mysterious vixen, I'm just a frigid bitch.

I nod my head soberly to let him know that I understood, causing him to continue to beat himself up about it.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't mean to-"

"No, Jay, it's okay. You're totally right, anyways. It's fine, I promise. I'm okay." I say earnestly. "Let's just continue our date." I try to comfort him. He sighs, happy to hear that my feelings weren't hurt and we moved onto the next piece.

We even swung by places like Golden Gate Park and Muir Woods to hike amongst the Redwood trees.

I realize that, though neither of us are too fond of nature, it's one of my favorite places to be with him. Mainly, because we're   both pussies and we know how to laugh at ourselves.

"Jay! There's a bug!" I shouted, watching a dragonfly land on his shoulder half-way through the trail. He gave a manly shriek and swatted his upper body frantically as I watched on in fear.

"Did I get it?" He spoke wide-eyed, looking around wildly. I couldn't help the giggles that left my mouth at his expense. "Yes." I squeaked, tears coming to my eyes from the laughter.

"Oh, ha ha. It's easy to laugh when there aren't huge dragonflies chasing you." He huffed out a laugh of his own. I bring myself closer to him and wrap my arm around his waist and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder in turn.

"Yeah, I know. It's fun." I rubbed it in his face.

"Well, I would never do that to you." He tries to guilt-trip me. My head immediately snaps to him. "You literally did it like three days ago." I chided him. He cocks his head to the side, thinking back to the incident in question.

"Oh, yeah, I did do that didn't I?" He realizes. "Uh, yeah." I mock in a deep voice, making him laugh. "Well, it won't happen again. I promise." He said sweetly, delivering a kiss to my forehead and then my lips, causing my lips to spread into a megawatt smile and me to swoon briefly. We continue on the trail slowly until J-Hope suddenly pulls away from me with a quickness.

"Charlotte, your arm!" He yells pointing at my right arm. I look down at my right arm in a panic to find some godforsaken insect perched on me. I scream and swat at it furiously. When I finally rid it from my body, I'm heaving with adrenaline and I look up to find Jay struggling to hold in laughter. I sigh loudly with a whisper of a smile on my face.

"What happened to 'it won't happen again', huh? You promised." I confront him, slapping his arm playfully.

"Yeah, I think I mighta gone too far with the whole promising business." He waves his hand as if to do away with the idea and my jaw drops at his bluntness. He eagerly wraps an arm around me and assures me that he's kidding and we finally completed our hike.

Hoseok even bothered to make it to the She-Bang gigs and always showed his support.

The people at the Temple nightclub were so full of life, but glancing out at the crowd to see J-Hope among them, watching with such admiration, topped playing for any audience. For once in my life, I took pleasure in singing to someone instead of singing at them and Hoseok was the reason for that.

"You guys were great Charlotte." Hoseok approaches me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me on the cheek swiftly after we finish the set. I pull away from the warm embrace, enough to plant an innocent kiss on his perfect lips which quickly turned wanton and had each of us breathing heavily.

"You know, you don't have to tell me that every time." I say, my hands busy caressing the hair at the nape of his neck, his gripping my waist gingerly.

"Don't I though? I mean you're always so amazing, I feel like I have to." He said easily, staring into my eyes causing my insides to turn to mush. "You're too sweet." I pecked his lips and we sway to the music, one of the many things that have become natural for the two of us in the month and a half since we met.

We've grown incredibly close in such a short amount of time that it literally blows my mind. I never let people in, let alone make strong bonds with them and somehow I  was the one to approach Hoseok and I'm so glad I did. He drew me to him from the very beginning and I haven't been able to resist him since. But all the while, in the back of my head is the concern that things are definitely moving too fast. Or at least faster than I'm used to.

And I can't tell if I should take it as a good omen, that things are just going smoothly or that everything is going to blow up in my face when the whole "girlfriend" question comes up. We still haven't discussed my aversion to the word or my past in depth. I all but freeze up whenever the topic of family or past relationships come up in conversation, sharing only tidbits of the memories that cause me discomfort and deal with silently on my own.

And whenever I cave in on myself J-Hope is always there to squeeze my hand or kiss me and bring me back. Because he knows I'm broken, but he won't risk making me uncomfortable for the sake of knowing me on a deeper level and I almost wish he would. I desperately want to be able to share everything freely with him as he shares so much with me, I feel like I'm not pulling my weight in this relationship.

"Hey, Charlotte. You okay?" Jay hooks his fingers under my chin and gently pulled up so that my gaze was now on his curious face and not on the dance floor.

Right on time. J-Hope to the rescue.

I smile tepidly. "Why do you put up with me?" The words escape my insolent mouth without my permission. My eyes widen at my own bold statement, but I realize I'm actually desperate for an answer, I need one.

"What?" J-Hope's brows furrow, his eyes narrow curiously and his head cocks to the side. I was quick to reply, just looking for validation at this point and a sign that I wasn't wasting both our time.

"Why do you want me?" I pull him closer than the PG distance we've kept before and look him in the eye earnestly, letting him know I was looking for a serious answer that would hopefully give me the solace I was looking for.

He looks me over, still quite thrown off by the question, but gives an honest answer that makes me weak.

"Because...you make me happy." He says without a flicker of doubt in his voice or in his face, staring into my eyes fervently. I throw my body into his without warning and bury my face in his neck to hide whatever dumbfounded expression was on it. He immediately returned the strength of my embrace which gave me even more confidence.

This was the affirmation, the push I needed. It's easier said than done, but I will do what it takes to tear down this wall that is keeping me from being with J-Hope like I want to.

"You make me happy too Jay." I utter in his ear. "I want you too...You have to know that." I admit, trying to communicate that I wanted him as much as he wanted me, I just struggle to show it.

"I do now." He responded, a smile in his voice. He partially released me from our embrace to look me over again. "I should get you home now." He decided, looking over my shoulder to see where the rest of the band are stationed.

"No, let's go to yours." I rest my palms on either side of his face, sporting a familiar look of hunger. All this confessing has made me super needy. He recognizes it instantly and smirked down at me. "Sure thing, babe."

Finally, the best part of spending my days with Hoseok for these bliss-filled three weeks was what came at the end of each day. The mind-blowing sex.

Currently, I was caressing J-Hope's tongue with my own, while being held up against the stainless steel wall of the elevator of Nob Hill Place on it's way up to J-Hope's apartment. He took all of my weight, each of his hands clutching my ass firmly, my legs wrapped snugly around his toned waist as he made his way to the apartment door. He struggled slightly with sticking the key in the door and taking my weight. I pause sucking on his neck to offer a solution.

"I could just hop down, you know?" I chuckle in his ear. "Don't you dare." Is his reply as he finally gets the door to swing open.

He continued to kiss me, shutting the door behind him with his foot and carried me to the kitchen. He sat me on the edge of the counter of the island with his body snug in between my legs that were on two kitchen stools, no space left between us. I ripped my leather jacket off of my heated body and flung it across the room and J-Hope did the same with his, our lips never leaving the other's skin. That is until he removed my t-shirt, which was barely a shirt to begin with as it had an insane amount of holes to show off my lacey black bra.

J-Hope teased my nipples through my bra with his fingers whilst sucking on my neck, shoulder and chest making me gasp. As he worked my chest with one hand, the other was on my back making sure I didn't lose my balance and that he could grind steadily into my core all the while.

I was already a moaning mess when he switched positions, his mouth travelling to my breasts and his hand travelling down my stomach. I whimpered at the loss of contact when he separated his hips from mine, but he soon replaced them when he lifted my skirt, making figure eights against my clit, over my damp underwear with his fingers. I keen with pleasure at all of the stimulation and just sit back and enjoy.

"Take these off." He ordered breathlessly, tapping my pussy so I knew he meant my underwear. I untangle myself from him and lean back on the island so that I can remove my panties and I chuck those into the unknown as well. Finding my wardrobe is gonna be fun later. We resume our previous position and I spread my legs even wider for J-Hope as he collects arousal from my entrance and continued to apply pressure to my clit in circular motions. I gasp at the contact and J-Hope takes the opportunity to capture my lips in a sloppy kiss. It's like he's everywhere at once and my body can't get enough of him.

He teases at my entrance once more and groans against my mouth. "God, you're so wet."

I giggle before replying honestly, "I'm always wet for you." in a seductive whisper. I look him in the eyes wantonly as I take his wrist and guide his fingers inside of me. My eyes flutter shut as he thrusts one finger into me and then another. All I could hear was my heavy breathing and the wet sounds of his sinful fingers thrusting in and out of my pussy.  

"Such a dirty girl." I swallowed thickly as his breath tickled my ear before sucking the lobe of it into his mouth skillfully. "So wet for me, taking my fingers so easily into that perfect little pussy of yours." He continued, sending shivers down my spine and more wetness oozing out of my entrance at his lewd words.

"I wonder if it can take my dick this easily." I moan at the mere thought. We both know it can, I go to say.

But I can't respond as my back suddenly arches into him and my breath hitches once he enters a third finger into the race, curling them to hit my g-spot head on, filling me up so deliciously all at once. My hole clenched around his fingers hungrily, the sweet friction it created causing me to lose my balance slightly. J-Hope didn't mind, he actually preferred it.

"Just lean back, baby." He soothed, removing his hand from my back. I did as I was told immediately, my back coming in contact with the cold marble, causing me to hiss slightly. He didn't waste any time, pulling up a kitchen stool so that he would be seated right in front of my pussy, never bothering to remove his fingers from me, thankfully. He pulled my right leg over his shoulder so that I wouldn't be uncomfortable after he stole my footrest and began kissing down my thigh, making me squirm in anticipation.

Finally, he parted my lips and began lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. I shudder, instinctively threading my fingers in his silky hair and my back lurches off the counter. "Oh, yes, Hoseok...please." Pleased with himself, he hummed against my clit and increased the speed of his fingers thrusting away inside me. His other hand raking up and down my stomach and playing with my chest, leaving scorch marks wherever they went. My entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames with the amount of pleasure coursing through it. The fire took its place inside of me, pooling in my lower abdomen like fireworks ready to explode. I found J-Hope's hand and threaded our fingers together, while the hand in his hair gripped tighter.

"Hoseok, I'm gonna cum." I choked out in gasps. "Mmhmm." was his response as he sucked on my clit, his wrist moving in a blur like his life depended on it. My back arches and my eyes roll back as the tightly coiled spring inside me had suddenly released, sending my body into shock waves of pleasure.

My walls pulse wildly around Hoseok's fingers, that are working me through my orgasm diligently. I go limp from the intense explosion of pleasure, twitching occasionally, still receiving waves of my orgasm thanks to a hard working Hoseok. I resist overstimulation, by reaching down and halting his actions. He gets the message and leaves lingering kisses on my thighs and gives the same treatment to my stomach as he makes his way up my spent body.

He finds my face, delivering kisses all over it. I finally opened my eyes to see the white spots in my vision clearing up and a happy J-Hope. I grab his face and kiss him hard, that same fire from before travelling through both of us, he returns the kiss with the same amount of adoration. I'm finally able to catch my breath and break the silence. "Thank you." I whisper, still kissing him.

"You don't have to tell me that everytime, you know." He jokes, repeating my words from earlier.  "I think I do." I reply easily.

"It's not like I'm doing you any favors." He says matter-of-factly, pressing his hips to my core once again, letting me feel his boner through his pants, conveying that pleasuring me does something for him as well.

Of course it does. The saint.

I find the strength to sit up and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him with a newfound intensity. "Let's do something about that then, shall we?" He doesn't miss a beat, picking me up and carrying me to his room. He approached the bed backwards, sitting at the foot of the bed with me now sat in his lap. I grinded down on him and lick my way into his mouth, my juices coating his dress pants and offering delectable friction against my clit. He reciprocates every single one of my actions and lifts my skirt to grope my bare ass.

"Go to the headboard." I rasped out, he doesn't hesitate to do as I say and crawls his way backwards to the head of the bed, his back to the headboard. I remove my bra and skirt so that I'm finally fully exposed and Hoseok takes this a sign to do the same. He hurriedly removes his shirt and bottoms and throws them off the bed. I crawl on my hands and knees in between his legs and lie down on my stomach when I reach my destination. My nails trail up and down his thighs, over his briefs to message his dick, causing him to groan.

I take a hold of his waistband and tug, not wanting to wait just as much as he didn't. He lifts his hips off the bed and I pull them off the rest of the way to toss them behind me. There is already a good amount of pre-come collected around the tip, just as J-Hope suggested. I take hold of his fully hard cock and spread it around even more as I stroke it from the base to the tip a few times before taking the tip into my mouth.

J-Hope gasps followed by a groan of bliss, melting into the bed. He buries his fingers in my curls, staring as I take him to the back of my throat. I stare right back, making him throw his head back in satisfaction.

"You're so fucking sexy." He moans freely.

I hollow my cheeks and bob my head up and down on his cock a few more times before I grow impatient. I release his cock from my mouth and make sure it's nice and lubricated before I place myself in his lap once again.

I run his dick through my folds back and forth, listening to J-Hope's precious whines. I allow his tip to breach my entrance and prepare to take him all the way when he stops me.

"Wait," He grips my hand that's gripping his dick. "No condom?" He gives a very confused yet somehow giddy expression. I just giggled at him as he looked on in bewilderment, thinking I'm some kind of crazy person.

"I've been on the pill for as long as I can remember. Plus I'm clean, and you're clean...right?" I gaze at him from under my lashes, expectantly. "Yes, of course." He answers in a hurry.

"Then we're fine...I trust you." I all but purred, kissing him gently. That's the first time I've said that to him and I meant it with every fiber of my being.

I insert his cock again and sink down on it inch by inch, eliciting a breathless groan from each of us at the new feeling. I don't move immediately, genuinely just enjoying the feeling of him inside of me. Nothing separating us. Hoseok seemed to be really enjoying it as well, his eyes closed, his breathes long and heavy. I wrap my arms around his neck and give him another sloppy kiss full of fondness and admiration that I hope he felt. I start to grind my hips back and forth, slow and hard, whimpering into his mouth.

J-Hope took my hips in his hands wantonly, helping me grind even harder and faster, setting an exquisite rhythm. Needing to breathe, we broke the kiss and were now breathing in each other's air with our foreheads pressed together. After a while I broke the rhythm of our thrusts and began to move up and down instead, guessing by J-Hope's downward gaze that he was now watching his dick disappear inside me.

This offered another equally delectable angle where J-Hope would hit my g-spot 9 times out of 10 and I ended up a panting mess. We each started to work up a sweat my thighs beginning to burn and slow me down. J-Hope would have none of that as he gripped my waist roughly, forcing me up and down on his cock.

Each thrust delving deeper and deeper inside of me, I could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of me easily.

"Mmm, keep fucking me like that!...Yes, right there baby." I growled up at the ceiling as he hit that spot over and over again, causing me to see stars.

J-Hope picks up the pace for the both of us, coming closer to his climax, my breasts bouncing on display for him. My walls clench around him with gratitude and I moan loudly at the change of speed. Our bodies ended up moving down the bed so that Hoseok was on his back and I was properly riding him, arching my back and slamming my ass down to meet his thrusts and gaining a lovely friction on clit from his pubic bone. I bend down and suck on the flesh connecting his shoulder and his neck that is covered in a mouthwatering sheen of sweat.

"Fuck, Charlotte. You're gonna make me cum." He husked into my ear, the sexy sound going straight to my pussy that was gripping Hoseok's dick for dear life. My orgasm quickly building up inside me with a fierceness, ready to send me flying at any moment.

"Yes, please, Hoseok. Please cum inside me." I mewled into his neck like a needy child.

"Are you sure?" He sputtered out as if we even had a choice, he was so close already. Fucking up into me on top of me fucking down onto him, our rhythm a bit out of sync, but still pleasuring the other to no end.

"Yes! I want you to come inside me. Want you to fill me up with it." I whimpered desperately, my lips up against his ear. "I want you to shoot your load inside me and keep it in me for as long as I can until it just spills out of me." My legs begin to shake with pleasure as I feel my orgasm approaching and Hoseok's dick pulsating inside of me, ready to give me what I want, but he seems to be holding back for some reason. That reason is made clear when he whispers: "Keep talking." in a heady, carnal voice that made me moan deeply. 

It gives me the motivation to stave off my orgasm as well and enjoy the moment. I slow down my thrusts and grind down on him harshly, earning myself a beautifully, sexy growl from Hoseok. But he never protested so I continued to have my fun.

"I want you to fill me up with your cum so it's spilling out of me, running down my thighs and makin' a mess that I can lick off of my fingers later." I pull back slightly to demonstrate, stuffing my fingers in my mouth, lightly gagging myself with them to create saliva on my fingers that I bring down to rub my clit with all while making eye contact with Hoseok. He looks at me like I'm the devil tempting him to sin. "Fuck." He cursed under his breath. I bend back down to spew more devilish things in his ear, wondering how long each of us can last.

"Would you like that? Watching me lick your cum off my body? Or me taking it from my pussy to swallow down my throat like you came in there too? You've cum down my throat so many times, but this is different, baby." I speed up my thrusts again and so does Hoseok neither of us being able to hold on anymore.

"I want it, please gimme your cum, Hobi." He moans at the nickname. "I need it inside me, you just have to give it to me. You're being so good, lemme reward you. Cum in me 'cause you can...that's it, baby...Ugh, yeah, that's it!"

Hoseok sped up his thrusts, fucking up into me like a man possessed. And suddenly I was pinned to the opposite side of the bed, Hoseok gripping my hips roughly and pounding me into the bed without a care in the world. He finally came inside, his cock pulsating wildly, sending spurts of hot cum inside me, jolting me into my own mind-shattering orgasm.

All the built up tension releasing inside of me, dissolving into utter pleasure. As my body freezes and time stands still, I feel my pussy throb lusciously around his cock as countless waves of pleasure rocked through me. My eyes saw nothing, but hot, white light and everything seemed to disappear, there was only white noise and the intense pleasure that surrounded me.

This one seemed to last longer than normal and as Hoseok grew tired I had to beg him: "Please don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me, don't stop fucking me." I chanted, near the point of crying from sheer euphoria. Thankfully he didn't stop, ever the dedicated lover, and my mind turned to mush for what felt like forever.

I couldn't tell when it all ended, but I regained my vision and was made very aware of my worn out, sore body. But my stomach wouldn't stop flexing, my body would twitch constantly and my pussy was continually clenching around Hoseok's cock, who I realize was kissing my neck. I turn my head to get his attention and he looks up immediately. We share a tender look before he gives me a long, passionate kiss.

He looks at me with a fondness when we separate that makes my heart race. "That was incredible." I say, still coming down. "You're tellin' me." he pecks my face repeatedly as he pulls out and I figured although it was the heat of the moment I'd keep my promises. I reach between my legs and collect any cum that spilled out and sucked my fingers into my mouth making seductive eye contact with Hoseok.

"You are something else, you know that?" He looked down at me genuinely impressed and...thankful?

"Of course I do. Now carry me to the shower, I'm not gonna make it by myself." He laughed, but followed through.

I don't know why or how, but I ended up letting Hoseok fuck me again in the shower. As if I didn't get enough the last two times.

His hand snaked it's way around my waist and caressed my stomach before making it's way to core.  I'm helpless to stop him, a victim of my own want for him. I continue to scrub my upper body as if he wasn't trying to kill me.

As I stood there choking on my own breath, my knees nearly giving out repeatedly, I doubt whether my body can take another orgasm so soon. "Hoseok, I-I don't know if I can-." Is all I can get out when he suddenly pressed my body up against the tile, my hands resting on it next to my head.

His lips were at my ear and his erection pressed against my ass along with his calloused hand working tireless circles into my sensitive clit. "You can take one more can't you?" His husky voice rasped into my ear. I was growing weaker by the second. I find myself nodding eagerly, sighing with need. "Say it. I wanna hear you." His sexy whispers fading into the spray of the water from the shower.

"I can take it." I convince myself breathlessly as he lines himself up with my entrance and graces my needy ears with those magical words. "That's a good girl." My eyes flutter shut and I open my mouth to release a silent scream when he pushes his cock into me in one swift motion.

My nails scratch at the tile as he grips my hips roughly and forcing my hips to collide with his at a quick pace. The sound of heavy breathing and intense slapping filled the air. "Ffffff-uck, yes, Hoseok." I hiss through clenched teeth. "Oh my fuckin' God, you fuck me so good."

He laughs raggedly. "You're Goddamn right." He gives up rubbing my clit to wrap his hand around my neck and squeezes gently, sending wetness rushing down my legs. A kink that we haven't explored, but one I enjoyed immensely. I even rest my hand over his and apply more pressure. He gets the message and squeezes harder, still allowing me to breathe while I rub harshly at my clit, feeling my orgasm approaching quickly. I was so sensitive I didn't need much attention to get aroused and I don't need much to get off and with Hoseok hitting my g-spot like he was, I was a goner.

"Oh my fuck-I'm cumming. Please don't fucking stop!" I gasp out through the strong hand choking me so deliciously. I arch my back into the shower wall, causing Hoseok's hand to pull my head back so that it's resting on his shoulder and he looks down at me as we watch each other come apart. I'm blinded by that rewarding white light as I'm pushed over the edge for the third time tonight, falling into an abyss of pleasure.

"Fuck! You're such a good girl Charlotte. Can I cum inside you again, baby?" He voice was rough and dark,  ready to snap at any moment. I nod frantically and mumble pleadingly.

"Yes! Please fill me up again, Hobi-Ugh!" I let out a scream/growl that echoed off the shower walls as I felt his cum fill me up in bursts, adding to my crippling orgasm. I was being shocked into silence as electricity sparked my entire body with lightning rods of pleasure. Hoseok's thrusts became sporadic, but just as forceful, sending lingering ripples of my orgasm through me as we both came down.

When he finally stilled his hips, his cock still buried within me, he removed his hand from my neck and took hold of my jaw instead, directing my face to his lips and devouring mine. I coughed when he released me, getting used to be breathing normally again. He pulled out of me and turned me around.

"Are you okay? Was it too much?" He fretted, studying my throat. "It was amazing. Don't you worry." I assure him, giving him a kiss of my own. "One of these days you're gonna fuck me to death." I laugh breathlessly. He makes a face as if he's fascinated by the idea and then bothered by it and then fascinated again. "I don't really know how to respond to that." He settled, making both of us laugh out loud.

I let him clean me up because I was too spent to clean myself after that and he carried me right back to the bed. Hoseok offered me an oversized t-shirt and some boxers of his. I didn't plan on falling asleep entirely because then I wouldn't be able to make my nightly get away that Hoseok always yells at me about the next morning. But after tonight's events, I had no choice, but to let Hoseok wrap me in his warm arms and drift away.

I wake up on my side, on the right side of the bed facing the bathroom with a sleeping Hoseok spooning me from behind. Each of his arms wrapped around my middle completely. I sigh contently before shifting to look at the window. It is still dark, the sky, a black sea, letting the San Francisco skyline light up the city for it.

Drawing my gaze lower to the alarm clock on the nightstand, I can see that it is 3:03 AM. Still time to catch a reasonably priced Uber home.

I gently take hold of Hoseok's hand attempt to unwrap it from my waist when his groggy voice travels to my ears.

"Where you off to now?" He suddenly questions, making me jump and then freeze in his arms.

"Uh, the hotel. The girls need me back for...something." Smooth.

"Oh?" He asks softly, unmoving.

"Um, yeah, they texted my phone." I rattle off the excuse without thinking.

"You mean your phone that's still in the kitchen?" He deadpans. Shit.

"Huh, um, yeah-" I cut myself off when his lips find my neck yet again and disrupt my train of thought.

"Look, whatever's going on in that pretty little head of yours, you can tell me...or don't...I just wish you would choose to stay here tonight. You did say next time. You've been saying that for weeks now...And I can make you whatever you want for breakfast...Please?" He pleads, laying it on very thick. His deep, raspy, voice mixed with the puppy dog eyes he cast down on me left me choice. I had to stay, anxieties be damned, I made a commitment to do whatever it takes to actually be with J-Hope. Even if it does seem impossible. I just wanted to please him in that moment and finally experience this for myself.

"Okay...Okay, I'll stay." I give him a peck on the lips to seal the deal and he smiles with pride. "Thank you."

"I'm just gonna text the girls, if that's alright."

"Of course." He replies without skipping a beat.

I leave the warmth of his bed to find my jacket and phone in the kitchen. It landed in the back on the floor. I fish my phone out of the pocket to find an onslaught of worried text messages from the She-Bang group chat, a few from Kyle and one missed call from Darren. I sent them a text back letting them know I would be staying with J-Hope tonight, I tell Kyle that I'm sorry for the scare, but not to wait up and I don't tell Darren anything. 

I almost feel bad for doing so, but even though it's almost been a month since our argument, we still haven't completely patched things up and I don't feel comfortable telling him where I'll be tonight and I don't want to lie to him. He'll most-likely find out from the rest of the group anyway.

Immediately I receive two good luck texts from Vicky and Carrie and one text that reads "Don't fuck it up....Good luck." from Leyah.

I shake my head and make my way back to Jay's room where he's sitting up shirtless in bed, reading something on his phone. "Hey." I utter, causing him to look up.

"Hey." He beams, putting his phone on a charger before offering me one and motioning for me get under the covers. Here goes nothing.

I climb on the bed and slide under the covers towards a waiting J-Hope who was ready to wrap his arms around me at a moment's notice. Tucking my body into his, I rest my head on his chest, his chin resting on my head. I just lie there still, eyes wandering, not really knowing what to do, still feeling a bit out of place. It's one thing to fall asleep with someone, it's another to go to sleep with them.

"You've never done this before have you?" Hoseok suddenly speaks, gauging my awkwardness. I laugh bitterly.

"Hah, yes, I have...It's just been a while." He hums in understanding, his chest vibrating against my cheek.

"Well, just relax. I'm here." He assures, tightening his grip on me, somehow bringing more comfort. I take the advice and take a deep breath. My muscles untense with the exhale and I feel lighter. "Thanks, Jay." I whisper.

"Anytime, Charlotte...Hey, where did Hobi come from?" He blurts out as if he'd been pondering it since he heard it first.

"I have no idea." I answer, my shoulders shaking with embarrassed laughter.

"Hm. Wherever it came from, you should call me that more often." He hums pleasantly.

"Deal...As long as you call me 'your dirty girl' more often." I bargain sheepishly, my face delving deeper into the crook of his neck.

"Oh, you got yourself a deal, babe." He plants a kiss in my mess of curls and I feel my eyes flutter shut once again.

+++++++++++++++++

The next morning, I'm automatically missing the presents of J-Hope's body next to mine. Then my nostrils are made aware of the mouth watering scent of, what I assume to be, pancakes, bacon and...eggs. I stretch out on the bed similar to how a cat would and make my way to the kitchen where I find J-Hope working his way around in only sweatpants. Good lord.

"Morning." I made my presence known, entering the kitchen and approaching his toned body. I hugged him behind, wrapping my arms around his middle and squeezing lightly. I'd always wanted to do that.

"Uh, it's noon, sunshine." he laughed as he flipped yet another pancake. There were like 15 of them piled high on a serving plate on the counter and numerous strips of bacon and eggs next to that. I just ignore his tiny dig and prove him wrong.

"No, I think you're the sunshine in this scenario." I come to stand next to him and watch him give a cheeky smile at my words. I'm guessing he couldn't come up with a witty comeback so he just bent down to kiss me warmly. I could get used to this.

"How did you sleep?" He asked, focusing back on his flipping and I make myself comfortable on a nearby stool. "Like a rock." I realize, aloud. I didn't have any dreams of any kind, I didn't stir whatsoever and I feel refreshed. That doesn't happen to me. "I haven't slept that well in a long time, actually." I share another epiphany.

J-Hope looks over his shoulder at me knowingly, almost as if he were saying "I told you so." with his eyes.

"Oh, shut up. That has nothing to do with me staying over here." I argue immediately knowing that it was a lie, I was just too stubborn to admit it.

"I didn't say anything." He chuckles innocently. I watch as he pour more whipped eggs into another pan on the stove. "You don't have to make too many eggs-" I go to warn him so that he wouldn't waste food.

"I know, you don't like them. I always make a shit ton of breakfast food to have left over." He explains.

"Okay, good. I've just hated them since I was a kid and sometimes I can't even stand the smell, it's crazy." I continue for no real reason, causing Hoseok to freeze with concern.

"Are you gonna be okay, or...?" He asks, pointing at the eggs. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm not allergic, just petty." I shrug.

"Cool. You know, I used to hate pickles with a passion growing up." He shares with his back slightly to me, stirring the eggs. I gasp.

"No! But pickles are so good!" I argue. "I know that now." He laughed. "Took some convincing though...and a lot of time. I used to just eat japchae in Korea. It's my favorite." Jay and I continue to discuss our favorite and least favorite foods as kids and how our habits have changed as he finished cooking and eventually served breakfast.

"Yeah, Maeve and I used to put ketchup on everything. It was gross, honestly." I laugh, reminiscing about the childhood I usually try so hard to suppress. And just like clock work, my smile fades as I'm reminded of the poor parts of that childhood and being ripped away from my best friend years ago.

"Your cousin, right?" I wince as Hoseok tears me away from my thoughts. "Hm? Yeah." I answer absentmindedly, no longer interested in the food on my plate. I push it around with a fork as Hoseok tries to engage me again. "You two were really close, right?" He continues, trying to carry a light conversation that was only making things worse.

I stare at the counter, trying to think of something, anything other than what we were discussing. "Yeah. Yeah, we were."

"We were like sisters." I utter without meaning to, words falling from my lips without permission. He nods at the statement. "Me and Dawon used to go to the Rockefeller Centre in New York in the winter time and ice skate." I smile at his memory until he brings the conversation back to me. "You and Maeve ever go to like, SeaWorld in San Diego or anything like that?"

I think back on all the trips Maeve and I actually took together. We went skinny dipping in the lake plenty of times, snuck into the surrounding country clubs to play pranks on the rich people, club hopping with our fake IDs. Almost all of them ended in run ins with the cops, but they were some of my fondest memories. No trips to SeaWorld or the San Diego Zoo existed for me or my family.

"No." I said curtly. He made a surprised face and took a moment before asking his next question. "Did your parents ever take you?" He knew he was taking a risk asking about my parents, I can tell by his teeth that begin to worry his lip immediately like he does when he gets nervous and his eyes that search my face for any signs of stress. He knows very well that they are a sore topic.

I can't begin to imagine why he would bring them up knowing this information, but I have a hard time trying to blame him or even be slightly upset at him for wanting to know more about the woman he's seeing. "No." I shake my head still looking down at my long forgotten breakfast. "We didn't really go many places with my parents." I said solemnly, hating not being able to control the situation.

"Oh...Why?" He was genuinely curious. Shocked that I actually answered a question about my parents, probably trying to see how far he can push it.

I actually thought the question over in my head, instead of just deflecting it like I always do. "We just didn't like to." I shrugged. "We didn't really get along...with them. It was always just the two of us."

"Hm, does that mean you lived together?" His tone was soothing, his eyes still searching mine for signs of retreat. I found myself being able to answer him easier after taking that first step.

"Yeah. My parents adopted Maeve after my aunt and uncle died in a car accident. She was 9 and I was 7." I say emotionlessly, still able to remember when she moved all her stuff into our house. Sharing a room until we grew sick of being on top of each other and my parents renovated the attic for her.

"I'm sorry." I see J-Hope's hand slide across the counter to cover mine. I let my eyes drift up to his which are filled with pity and it makes sick. I moved out of La Mesa to escape looks like those. "Thanks." I mutter removing my hand from his grip to throw my food away and clean my dish in the sink. I feel his presence behind me and then his strong hands resting on my shoulders, massaging gently.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He apologizes softly. All I can do is laugh bitterly because he thinks this is me shutting down, on overload from pushing myself to answer his questions. Not yet. He feels bad (per usual) for making the broken girl feel more broken.

And in that moment, something snaps inside me. I made a promise to fight for what I have with J-Hope and before I know it, I'm spinning around in his arms and the words just go flying from my mouth.

"My middle name is Avery and I hate it." Hoseok looks confused yet please with this new information. "Okay, it sounds pretty to me." He shrugs with a smile. I ignore the compliment and take a deep breath. I'm gonna have to dig a whole lot deeper than middle names to make this mean something.

"I was born and raised in La Mesa, San Diego. My mother's name is Tanya, my father's name is Chris...I don't like them, they're cunts." I share calmly, making J-Hope flinch that I could talk about my parents in such a way.

"They didn't know how to handle their daughter being 'different'. So,  they sent me away to some boarding school when I was 10." The first time they separated me from me from my best friend.

"I got kicked out of course and so they had to deal with me...when they sent Maeve to rehab they said it was my fault. That I got her mixed up in that stuff. I was only 14." The second time they separated us.

My voice wavered and cracked around the edges, tears burning the back of my eyes. I could no longer look at J-Hope too embarrassed for him to see me like this. "Hey," He bends down into my line of sight to get my attention. "You don't have to." He appeased, stroking my face. "It's okay, you can stop, I get it." No, you don't.

I don't allow myself to stop, ignoring his discouragements, I go on. "They always preferred Maeve to me, even before they adopted her, but I never held it against her...I haven't seen my parents since...since they kicked me out when I turned 18." The third and final time I was separated from my bestfriend.

"I was in an 'unsavory relationship' they claimed." I made air quotes with my hand while the other held me weight against the counter. "We started dating when I was 16 and he was 20." I could see J-Hope's eyes widen in my peripheral, but he just waited patiently for me to finish.

"They had been trying to get rid of me for years and when I became legal they didn't waste any time." I grimace at the carelessness displayed when they told me to pack my belongings and get out. Of course, they waited for a time when Maeve and I were actually apart and then attacked.

"So, I moved to L.A. with my ex-boyfriend." I still wasn't able to say his name aloud. "My parents cut me off from Maeve completely as soon as I crossed the threshold. She still lived at home and was still being controlled by them. I regretted leaving her behind and so a year later I went back to La Mesa to hopefully bring her back with me, but when I asked about her at one of the bars we frequented the-they told me...they told me she had..." I can no longer hold back the tears when I actually allow myself think about the time I wasted not going back for her when I should have and coming back home to find out that she had passed.

J-Hope pulled me into him and quickly wrapped his arms around me, my face now covered in tears against his bare chest. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. I've got you." He repeated, planting kisses in my hair. Even in a mess of tears I couldn't stop myself from continuing, it's like my mind was forcing me to tell the story as some kind of therapy for never uttering these words to anyone but the girls before. I felt the weight being lifted off my shoulders with every sentence.

"They said she had overdosed less than a week before I returned." I sniffle, getting my breathing back under control. "It was like I felt it, like I knew she was gone...and I had to see for myself...but I was too late." Jay shakes his head on top of mine and I can tell he desperately wants to say something, but holds back.

I separate myself from him for both our sakes and lean against the counter once more. He moves with me, hands on my waist, eyes on me at all times.

"My ex-boyfriend left me three years later...and I was back to being alone again." J-Hope's face contorts with something akin to shock once he does the math in his head. Yoongi and I were indeed together for 6 years. My first and last real relationship lasted 6 years. Even I can't believe it sometimes.

"I met the girls that same year and never looked back...but it really fucked me up." I reach up to cup J-Hope's cheek, he automatically leans into my touch and looks into my eyes with some kind of new found respect. The pity still deep rooted in his gaze, but who wouldn't pity someone after that?

"I really like you Hoseok and I wanna make this work, but there is just so much you don't know." He furrows his brows and grips my hand that is cupping his face and strokes it comfortingly. "So, tell me." He pleads, a desperate look in his eyes. "Tell me anything." I sigh before my brain rattles off the things I want him to know. That I need him to know.

"I've done some questionable things for money...and am still somehow a spoiled brat, I have commitment issues-fuck I've got a shit ton of issues. Trust issues, intimacy issues, anxiety. My ex fucked me up so bad I stopped believing in love." He winced at that fact, but it's about time he heard it. If this is what sends us going our separate ways, I'll be destroyed, but happy that he might find love with someone else who can fully reciprocate.

"The word girlfriend gives me nausea. You’re the only person I let call me by my full name. You're the first person I've had sex with that I've felt anything for since him. My biggest fear is going to jail, after that it's dying alone and I really thought that was gonna be me for a long time...until I met you. You're so fucking beautiful, Hoseok. You're strong and brave enough for the both of us and I can't thank you enough for putting up with me. And if you want nothing to do with me from now on I’ll understand...I'm sorry I can't be everything you want." I became a blubbering mess back in J-Hope's arms by the end of my speech. 

"Oh, Charlotte." He started as if he were scolding me. "You're already everything I want." His kind words just cause me sob harder into his strong chest.

"I don't deserve you." I whisper the familiar words to him for the first time.

"That's not true. We deserve each other." I just shake my head, knowing that I will forever disagree with his words.

[traveller-lover-dreamer]

Hey sooo

I haven’t been on Tumblr in ages. Like three years or so since I’ve posted something I wrote. I couldn’t write anymore because I lost my inspiration to write tom holland fanfiction back then, right as I slowly got out of the fandom, as it sometimes happens. Still love tom holland and the rest of them, I’m just not into him like I was before so I couldn’t really write anymore. I also focused on book projects I’ve had for a while, and optometry school has been a bitch too. Almost out of college now though, and I have more time to write sooo yeah haha.

Though I have no motivation for tom holland stuff, I’ve been a kpop stan for a couple of months now. It made me want to start writing fanfiction again. So, is there anyone on here that’d be interested in BTS or stray kids fanfiction? I already have some stuff written, but I don’t want to post into a void haha

Let me know if you’d be interested!!

[pihelado-picream]

🎶❤️🎶🎵❤️🎵🎶❤️🎵❤️🎵🎶🎵❤️🎵🎶🎵❤️🎶🎵❤️🎵🎶🎵🎶🥺❤️

[badbyeyoongi]

Go to my recommendation page for Yoongi fanfics, BTS reactions & more. It has all the fanfics I read that I don’t share on this page!

Mostly Yoongi, Jungkook and JJK 🤍

https://badbyeyoongirecs.tumblr.com/

[yoongii-ah]

Spring Day (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4: The First Date (Part 2)

After your morning hike with Min Yoongi, he asked you out for dinner at his apartment. After “helping” him with a home-cooked meal, you sat down over a bottle of wine to get to know each other a bit better. You finally felt he was opening up to you a bit more compared to this morning. After learning he wrote songs for a living you asked him to play something on the grand piano located in the main room of his apartment, you would have never guessed that the man you just had dinner with was in the largest K-Pop band in the world.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, an older injury from last episode, a couple swear words, and a very passionate kiss eluding to sexual tension.

Word count: 2,824k

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 5

This chapter took me forever to put onto paper (or Microsoft Word?) I felt a bit stumped about where these two were going to go from here, but I think I’ve got a bit of a plan. Since this story was based off a dream originally, I’ve officially had to create the rest of the script. I think this is how my subconscious would want it to be…

Again, any advice and constructive criticism is welcome! Thanks for reading 😊

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

You slipped off the rubber gloves and turned around, watching Yoongi play a few broken melodies on the piano before settling on a song. You walked toward him, being careful to not get too close or disrupt his playing. From behind you could see his right hand played a few chords gracefully as his left hand played a lower melody, his hand moving swiftly across the bottom keys of the piano. After a few seconds, you immediately recognized the song. You had heard it many times in your own apartment while listening to the radio to distract yourself from your own thoughts. Since Korean wasn’t your strongest language, you recognized and could sing along to a few of the lyrics, but not the whole song. You listened to him play the intro as a smile crept onto your face, appreciating his talent.

You were immediately impressed that he was the one to write this song that had played on the radio dozens of times. You were just starting to sway a little bit to the music but stopped as soon as Yoongi opened his mouth. The smile that came across your face immediately vanished, and chills came over your entire body as the light hairs on your arms stood up. You felt a little dizzy, but knew the wine wasn’t to blame.

He wasn’t the one to only write the song that was so popularly played on radio stations across Seoul, you would recognize that voice anywhere. He fucking sang it.

Yoongi’s long fingers continued to grace the ebony and ivory keys of the expensive piano he sat at as you tried to collect your thoughts while standing behind him. It was hard to breathe, your legs felt shaky, and there was a faint ringing in your ears as your started to piece together all the subtle clues about who this man really was from the first time you met him.

The barista’s giggles at the café, renting out the entire park for your morning hike, the underground parking and elevator key code, hell, even this building was extravagant, and you’ve only seen one unit.

Yoongi finished playing the song at the end of the second verse and turned around, sensing you were standing behind him, not trying to be distracting or overwhelming. Immediately he saw your face, eyes wide and pale skin, as your hands shook and played with the bandage he had placed on your hand earlier in the evening. His face dropped.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong? Do you feel ill?” Yoongi asked, jumping up from the piano bench, making a screeching sound on the marble floor, and walking towards you. “Is it your hand? Do you need to go to hospital?” He rapidly fired questions at you, genuinely concerned and trying to meet your eyes. The faint ringing was still in your ears, his voice sounded muffled, and you didn’t quite register what he was saying to you.

“Y/N? You’re worrying me, sit down.” He guided you towards one of the plain leather couches and walked briskly to the fridge to grab you cold water. “Here, drink this” he said as he cracked the lid off of the water bottle and forced it into your shaky hands. You slowly took a sip, focusing on the cold liquid hitting the back of your throat, bringing you back to reality. Suddenly the ringing in your ears started to fade.

“I didn’t… you said you wrote… who are you?” you stammered, trying to screw the lid back on the water bottle but fumbling with the cap. Yoongi grabbed it from your hands to place the lid back on securely before you spilled the whole bottle on yourself.

“I wasn’t sure if you knew… I thought there was a chance you could be faking it, but after spending the morning together I realized you didn’t know who I was exactly…” Yoongi said calmly, hesitating briefly as he placed the water bottle back in your hands. A bit envious of the water bottle, he wanted to reach for your hand to calm you but decided against it.

“You said you wrote songs… I just thought maybe it was for indie artists, or commercials…” you spat out. He tried to catch your gaze, but you avoided looking him directly in the eyes, your face still flush. You felt like an idiot, shaking and stumbling your words in front of this man. This man, who would have more money in a year than you would in a lifetime. He had no privacy, travelled the world, had millions of fans. Immediately your confidence started to shrink, and you stood up to grab your jacket and leave. Who am I compared to him? What am I doing here? You thought as you stood, your feet failing you as your heels caught on the threads of the area rug placed in front of the couches.

“Wait” Yoongi said as he caught you by your arms, just above the elbow, as you started to falter. He stood in front of you like a wall, his shoulders thrown back as he continued to try to meet your eyes. You finally summoned the courage to look up at his face. “Please just sit back down, I don’t want you to leave” he said softly.

You sat back down on the couch slowly, his hands never leaving your arms. “I was a little afraid all of this would scare you away, I understand it’s all a bit overwhelming…” he confessed, still remaining calm and soft spoken. He slid his hands down your arms to grasp your hands instead, being mindful of your bandage.

“I didn’t know, honestly” you stammered sincerely. The last thing you wanted to be viewed at was a gold digger.

It struck a nerve in you, as you recalled conversations with your ex about money. He was always jealous that your salary was more than his, but you never viewed it as a problem. “What are people going to think when you’re always picking up the tab?” He had spat at you. “It emasculates me, Y/N. It’s embarrassing. What would you do if I made more money than you?” “I’d let you pay, it wouldn’t matter to me. I don’t care how much money you make” you had argued back, exhausted from another spat. “I bet you’d like that, go find someone else with a fatter paycheque then” his words had slapped you in the face. He had stormed out of your shared apartment that evening for a few hours, but sulked back, smelling of whisky and second-hand smoke in the early morning hours. “I’m sorry baby” he had mumbled as he crawled into bed behind you, peppering kisses across your neck, your stomach turning. After all the arguments about money, and when he had paid for dinners and dates, he just made you feel guilty for it. You weren’t used to dating someone with enough emotionally maturity to not view women with higher salaries as emasculating.

Now you felt like the tables had turned, as your meekly realized Yoongi’s wealth. It made you uncomfortable.

“I don’t want you to think that I was faking anything, I promise, I don’t care about your money… I didn’t know…” you repeated yourself, shaking your head and starting to pull your hands out of his grasp.

Yoongi only held onto them tighter, “Ya ya ya, I wasn’t accusing you” he said in a slightly louder tone, cutting you off.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes momentarily, and opened them to meet his coffee-coloured irises. You finally noticed just how dark and serious his gaze was, as both of you paused before continuing the conversation.

Yoongi broke the silence, “I invited you here tonight because I wanted to spend more time with you. After this morning, I didn’t want our time together to end” as he spoke, he rubbed his thumbs over the backs of your hands soothingly. “I also needed someone to cut the peppers…” he added, attempting to add humour back into the conversation tonight.

You let out a soft laugh, “I bet your recipe didn’t call for a finger though.” Yoongi smiled and also chuckled, showing his teeth momentarily. The tension in the room was immediately released, and Yoongi shifted on the couch to sit more comfortably next to you. He let go of your left hand, as he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face a few times.

He reached for your hand again, “Let’s open another bottle of wine. We might need it…”

- - - - - - - -

You had excused yourself to the bathroom and locked the door behind you as Yoongi located another bottle of wine, no doubt just as expensive, your mind nagged at you. The guest bathroom was the size of your bedroom, with a large clawfoot tub that sat at the far side of the room against a wall length window. You tried to push your self-conscious voice to the back of your mind as you turned on the cold-water tap. You stood in front of the counter, looking in the mirror at your flushed face. You looked a little shell-shocked and a bit drunk. After opening a few cabinets, you located a crisp white face towel and ran it under the cold water. You folded it up and pressed it to your cheeks and forehead, then under your arms. Ringing it out, you placed it over the counter to dry, and fanned your face with your hands to dry any moisture left on your face. After inspecting your makeup, running your fingers through your curls, and adjusting your dress, you psyched yourself back up to leave the bathroom and head back into the kitchen. He’s not your ex, you repeated to yourself as you walked out of the bathroom, around the corner and back into the open kitchen.

Yoongi had opened another bottle and filled your glass with a few more ounces than usual of wine. The bottle sat on a different counter, the label facing away. He handed you the glass, “feeling a little better?” he asked with a slight teasing tone. You noticed he had undone another button on his shirt as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes, thank you… I borrowed a face towel from your cupboard, I hope you don’t mind…” you started to ramble again.

“Of course not, please make yourself comfortable.”

You both stood across the kitchen island from each other, noticing how your tone of conversation was suddenly back to feeling more formal.

“Here, come sit…” Yoongi motioned his head towards the couches as he walked back into the living room, taking a seat back on the same couch. You followed him and sat a comfortable distance away, taking another sip of wine before placing it on the side table beside the couch.

It was Yoongi’s turn to take a big breath before talking. “So, I work for Hybe Corporation. Their business is located in the same building, just a few floors below us. I’ve worked for them for close to 10 years as an idol and a producer. I’m in the group…”

“Bangtan Sonyeondan…” you cut off Yoongi unintentionally. “I only realized it when you started to sing the opening to your song at the piano.”

He nodded as he continued to explain, “when I saw you at the café this past week, I didn’t recognize you as a regular. When I leave my apartment it’s one of the few places I feel comfortable visiting without being bombarded with paparazzi. The baristas are discreet, and the other customers are usually too busy to notice me. When I saw you sitting by the windows, I was waiting for you to look up. When you didn’t, I realized you might not recognize me.”

“I’m not that familiar with BTS…” you started to say, as you caught Yoongi smirking before taking another sip of wine. “Oh, no, I mean I know your group is very popular and successful and…”

“It’s ok, I don’t take offence” he smiled softly at you.

“When you first introduced yourself to me your name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I thought you could be a client at the firm, but I dismissed the thought. I really didn’t know who you were…” you couldn’t stress it enough.

Yoongi held up a hand dismissively, “I know, it’s ok, really. It’s actually a bit humbling to not be recognized” he laughed softly again, this time teasing himself.

“When you sat down at my table, I was just taken aback that someone had struck a conversation with me that was so honest and open.” Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I instantly felt comfortable around you…” you mumbled and added embarrassingly.

“I felt the same way” he added, shifting towards you on the couch again, “I wouldn’t have asked you here if I didn’t.”

You reached for your wine glass and took a larger sip, the alcohol making you feel warm and tingly. Both of you sat more comfortably on the couch this time, but the tension was back in the air again. Yoongi finished his glass of wine rather quickly and set it on the side table. He reached for your half full glass still in your hands and set it down beside his. He ran his hands through his hair once more before wrapping his warm hands around yours, clasping them together.

“I don’t want this to change anything between us” he confessed, sighing deeply, worried about your response. “I understand if this makes you feel uncomfortable…”

It was your turn to cut him off. “No, really Yoongi, it’s ok. I don’t want this to change anything either…”

Yoongi flashed a closed mouth smile, the corners of his lips upturned so that his eyes crinkled.

- - - - - - - -

After finishing the second bottle of wine there was no way you could drive back home. Yoongi had already sensed this and sent a message to his driver asking him to have the car ready to take you back home. You walked to the entrance and reached for your coat, but Yoongi was already a step ahead of you.

“Here…” he murmured, as you turned around to face away from him. He opened your coat and slid it back on over your shoulders. You turned around to face him, as he slowly did up the buttons from the bottom to the top, his hands resting on your collar bones. He paused, looking briefly at your lips before meeting your eyes. “I’ll come with you” he said, his hands letting go of your lapels as he quickly reached for his own felt coat.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that…”

“I want to” he spoke softly, doing up his own buttons on his coat. “Why don’t you leave your car keys here, I’ll have someone deliver it in the morning.”

You knew better than to argue with his offer, and you didn’t want to offend him after tonight as well. He has understood your point about not wanting to seem like you were only after his idol status, both socially and financially. You reached into your purse to place the keys into his hand.

“Let’s go” Yoongi said as you both stepped out of his apartment door, him locking the door while you pressed the elevator button.

- - - - - - - -

After a comfortably silent ride back to your apartment in the back seat of Yoongi’s town car, you arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I didn’t know you lived so close to the café” Yoongi mentioned, as he opened his door to step out onto the concrete. You unclicked your own seatbelt and went to reach for the car door, but Yoongi had rushed around to open it for you. He offered his hand to you as you took it and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Thank you for the ride home” you spoke softly, avoiding eye contact. “I’d invite you up, but, uh…”

“Maybe another time” Yoongi finished the thought for you. You smiled briefly as your stared into his dark eyes, his skin gleaming under the yellow streetlight. You paused, wondering how to end the conversation this evening. To be honest, part of you didn’t want it to end.

“I’ll call you” Yoongi said as your heart dropped. You knew exactly what that saying meant, and you prepared yourself to say a cordial goodbye to Yoongi for good. This was the end of your brief fling, and you understood why. During this entire evening he was just being polite. Someone of Yoongi’s status would never date down to someone like you, especially considering the fact you only had half a year left in this country. You sighed and nodded staring at the damp concrete below your feet.  

You began to politely thank him again, lifting your head to look at him once more, when suddenly his lips crashed into yours. Yoongi’s left hand reached around to grasp you at the small of your back, while his right hand brushed the hair on the side of your face away from your temple and behind your ear. You let out a small airy moan as your hands reached behind his back, holding him close. He parted his mouth gently, waiting to see if you’d mirror his lips. Your tongues brushed softly, tasting the wine you had earlier on his breath. After what felt like hours but only seconds at the same time, you pulled away regretfully from the kiss. Knowing that if you didn’t end it right then, Yoongi would be upstairs in your bed for the rest of the evening. As tempting as that sounded, you didn’t want this to move too quickly. After all, the last person you slept with was your ex. You didn’t want Yoongi just to be a bedroom palate cleanser though. How serious could this actually get anyways? I move home in six more months, you briefly wonder, quickly pushing the daunting thought from your mind.

Yoongi rested his forehead on yours for a few moments, taking a deep breath before pulling away and moving his hands to your waist. “I’ll call you” he whispered again, as he placed one last kiss on your cheek, and this time you knew he meant it.

[yoongyeah2910]

Cock-loving Bad Boy Min Yoongi ~ Sope.

Summary: Yoongi is a bad boy. A bad boy who worshippes cock. Notes:as i said before smut helps me improving my english blablabla alsoo i love cumslut yoongi m sorry lord for i have sinned.i think ive wrote this like 1 month ago ?? hmm

Work Text: Yoongi knew he was a walking cliche.The typical school bad boy who smoked and got into fights. The one who is feared by everyone, the one who isn't afraid to talk back, be it a classmate, a teacher or the principal. Yoongi didn't give a fuck, and perhaps that's the reason his reputation was untouchable. People who passed by always had to look at their feet, trying to not pick a fight with him. The need to be constantly in defensive mode has become part of Yoongi's lifestyle. That's how he was raised, how he perceived the world, how he felt to be as accepted as safe.And like any cliche, Yoongi had his weaknesses. It wasn't just Hoseok. It was Hoseok's smile, Hoseok's unique form of speech, Hoseok's expressive eyes, Hoseok's dainty fingers... And Hoseok's cock.Hoseok, unlike Yoongi, wasn't a walking cliche. He had his flaws and strengths, and he knew it. People used to think of him as some kind of "battery" and, to be honest, Hoseok was proud of it. He liked the positive effect he had on his surroundings.But what he liked the most, was when Yoongi begged. When Yoongi whined, when Yoongi cried out in pleasure, when Yoongi did everything he could just to get Hoseok's cum dripping from his mouth.With the pass of time, Hoseok has learned to read people as of they were books. Yoongi was an example. To read Yoongi was so easy, specially when his body was so responsive, his micro-expressions were so easy for Hoseok's eyes to catch, everything in him was obvious all the time.Hoseok knew what Yoongi wanted. Hoseok knew how to give it to him. It took some fights, to almost get a bloody nose, for Yoongi to finally open himself. In a lot different ways, all of them just for Hoseok to enjoy.And now they were here. Yoongi sitting on a toilet, his lips getting practically devoured by Hoseok. Hoseok's possessive grip of Yoongi's shoulders, preventing him for even try to take a breath without Hoseok's permission, had Yoongi's cock hard inside his pants.Hoseok was mad. Pretty much because of Yoongi's fault.Hoseok's tongue practically ravishing Yoongi's mouth had him whimpering, with the thought of rub both cocks together crossing his mind again and again, non-stopping. But Hoseok was too mad, and Yoongi knew any wrong move will create a hell on earth.Hoseok pushes again with a hard bite on Yoongi's lower lip, making him whine out of pain. He adopts a straight posture to look down on Yoongi with a wicked smirk. The male is heavily panting, sweat has his hair sticking to his forehead and tears stains his cheeks."Look at you. You're a fucking whore. How many times I should repeat it?" Hoseok hisses, leaning against the stall door. "I should fuck you so hard until you scream. Maybe you will finally acknowledge your place, right?"Yoongi closes his legs shut, slightly squirming, as Hoseok's eyes analyzes him from head to toe in silence.What got Hoseok so mad to the point of having his blood boiling like water in a kettle was Yoongi's grumpy humor. Yeah, Hoseok was aware ofhis broyfriend's short-temper, but today Yoongi woke up even fussier than ever. To the point to get Hoseok fussy too, and it was almost impossible.The straw that broke the camels back was Yoongi screaming back to him in the middle of the school halls over a minimal thing that Hoseok can't even remember."Everyone thinks of you as some new age Tony Montana. Everyone thinks you're scary, the one to not mess with, and I guess you just confirmed it out there" Hoseok says sarcastically, licking his lips. "Cause that's what you were looking for, right? To reaffirm your alpha-plus male reputation. To get everyone to know how tough you are. You want everyone to think of you as the type who carries a pocketknife, the type who is capable to kill someone with his bare hands. You think you're that type, don't you?"Hoseok walks up to Yoongi, getting his phone out of his pocket right before kneeling down. Yoongi's heart skip a beat when from Hoseok's phone a little 'click' sound is heard, meaning the camera was on. Yoongi confirmed it when Hoseok placed the phone right before his

face."I have news for you, Yoongi. You're not that type. You will never be that type" Hoseok's smile gets wider when Yoongi breathed in as Hoseok places one of his hands between his thighs. "You're the type to get tonguefucked, you're the type to bounce on a cock till your legs get numb, you're the type to deep-throat everyone who's nice to you. Am I right? Are you that type?" Hoseok asks with a fake-sweet voice, petting Yoongi's cheek softly and capturing his pout with the camera. "I asked you something. Answer, whore".Yoongi's eyes were piercing through Hoseok's crotch, the image of the youngest's cock deep inside his mouth made him whine quietly. He didn't even flinch when Hoseok grabbed him by the jaw to lift his head. Yoongi's looking directly at the camera with big eyes and a big pout, and Hoseok has found the angle that catches his bulge too."You're already hard" Hoseok teases, caressing Yoongi's lower lip with his thumb. "Suck on it, slut, you know you want". And Hoseok was right, cause Yoongi immediately wraps his warm mouth around the finger. Hoseok notices how Yoongi has started to rub his thighs together as his hips slowly move back and forth, and chuckles. "Look at you, dirty whore. Just a finger in your mouth and you're going insane", Hoseok pulls off to take his hand and smack it across Yoongi's face, making him moan at the sting of the slap burning on his cheek."Please... Your cock...""Control yourself". Hoseok manages to unzips his pants with one hand, recording the way Yoongi's face lit up when the cock pops out."Big... So big..." Bliss shines on Yoongi's expression, his nails digging deeper into his lap. He looks up, straight to the camera again, to ask: "Can I touch?"Hoseok smirks. "No. I don't want your nasty hands on my cock" he responds. Yoongi whines, but he gets cut off by Hoseok's hands sliding into his hair and pulling him forward. "Lick".Yoongi smiles, leaving a peck in the tip and then pulling out his tongue to draw circles on it. He isn't even surprised when Hoseok grabs him and makes him choke on the cock, so Yoongi just starts bobbing his head following Hoseok's hips pace. Yoongi was grateful, he really was, cause he loved to take Hoseok on the mouth and to him, this was a reward he didn't deserve at all."Filthy... You're so f-filthy..." Hoseok says, accelerating the speed of his thrusts. He moans loudly, not caring if someone could hear them, when Yoongi whimpers making vibrations get send to his cock. "Taking cock... The only thing you can do well...", his hands shakes but Hoseok does the most to keep recording Yoongi.The camera was just above Yoongi's head, filming as Hoseok's cock went in and out of his mouth. Yoongi's red cheeks and wet eyes could be seen too, he was doing his best to not let Hoseok's cock separate not even an inch. Yoongi's wet heat had Hoseok's legs trembling."And if I show all of my friends this videom then what?" Hoseok suddenly asks, so Yoongi rolls his eyes to look upon him. "What if I show the school this video? All of them would know you're a filthy cumslut... The school's bad boy loves cock more than anything else in the world... How does that sound?", Hoseok facefucks Yoongi, making him choke not only on his dick but also on his own whines. "But maybe they would want to get some too, and you know I don't like sharing... It's better to keep this secret, don't you think?"Hoseok pushes away and Yoongi loudly cries, trying to get the cock inside his mouth again, but he's stopped by Hoseok's hand on his forehead pushing him backwards."Open your mouth" he says as he strokes his dick, aiming directly to Yoongi's lips. Yoongi does as told while rubbing his palm against his own erection. Having Hoseok jerking off right in front of his eyes was about to make Yoongi come.Hoseok finally spills all of his cum on Yoongi's face, thin white lines reaching lips, cheeks, nose and even landing on his bangs. Yoongi feels so happy as his own hands moves faster, while he wipes the liquid off with his finger and takes it to his mouth, tasting Hoseok with a big smile.Hoseok

hasn't stop recording him, enjoying how Yoongi cleans himself with his tongue and masturbates over his clothes. Yoongi looks straight at Hoseok's eyes with an aroused frown and half-open mouth, letting out the sweetest moans ever heard as he squirts inside his pants."You're such a slut, Yoongi, you really came in your pants" Hoseok gets his phone close to Yoongi's crotch so he can capture the dark spot. "Your cute little dick couldn't take no more, right?" he says, touching the wet area with his fingers, making Yoongi all whiny again. Hoseok cuts the video off to put his phone back to his pocket and pull his pants up. He leans over Yoongi to give him a peck on the lips, smiling the moment Yoongi tries to get his tongue in. "You never get tired, don't you?""Please... Just..." Yoongi looks like he's struggling to find the right words, so he shuts his lips and stares up to Hoseok.Hoseok's response is to roll his eyes with disdain. "Well, every time something doesn't go your way you throw a tantrum so saying 'no' to you is useless". Hoseok remains in silence a couple of seconds, before unzipping his pants one more time. "Brat".Yoongi claps in joy, standing up from the toilet he was sitting on to bent over the sink, pulling his legs apart and letting his ass stick up higherAs Hoseok laughs he presses his chest against Yoongi's back so the eldest could feel the cock being rubbed against his covered ass. He bites Yoongi's lobe making him let out a little whine, his hips starting to thrust against Hoseok on their own.With a little kiss left on Yoongi's cheek, Hoseok pushes back to start stroking his cock to wake it up and fuck the boy standing in front of him into oblivion."Cum inside, please" Yoongi whispers when he notices how Hoseok has pulled his phone out again to record and left it standing by the wall so the eldest's reactions throughout the fuck would be easily captured."What a greedy little slut" Hoseoks says, his dick half-hard, as he pulls Yoongi's pants down. "Look at your pretty ass, is it clenching yet?", he delivers a light slap on the cheek, fascinated to watch how the skin bounces softly. "I'd like this view better if I wasn't aware that this ass is owned by a fucking cum-eater bitch". Another spank, even sharper than before, makes Yoongi choke on a scream and press his forehead against the mirror. "You like that?""Y-Yes...""Just like I thought"."More, please...""Don't order me around or else there's no cock for you""Sorry..."Trying to fix his mistake, Yoongi uses his hands to open himself welcoming Hoseok. He moves his head to press his cheek against the mirror and be able to watch Hoseok's cock bury in him.At this moment, Hoseok is spitting on his palm to use it as lube. Yeah, his cock was already really wet because of the blowjob Yoongi gave him minutes ago, but Hoseok wanted to be careful anyways. He doesn't intend to hurt the eldest, or well, at least not in that way.Hoseok smirks when he catches Yoongi staring. "You're so needy, babyboy", the nickname makes Yoongi whimper desperately, hardening his grip and nails burying into the milky skin of his ass. Hoseok tugs Yoongi's shirt by the edge to lip level. "Bite" he demands and Yoongi obeys.Hoseok's hands holds him by the waist as the tip starts to rub against the hole, the cock threatening to make its way into Yoongi's entrance but finally just pushing back. This has Yoongi feeling frustrated, suppressing the want to move his ass back cause he knew it would make Hoseok mad.But no, actually, cause Yoongi really can't hold it longer when he glances down and finds his erection almost touching his belly because of how hard he was.Yoongi muffles a crying and Hoseok recognizes his name in his words."How did you just call me?"Yoongi gulps. "I-I'm sorry, sir... It wasn't m-my... My intention" he manages to sound understandable and Hoseok's smirk means that he achieved it."Good slut", without saying no more, Hoseok enters with just one thrust, which makes Yoongi scream and accidentally hit the side of his face against the mirror. It wasn't that bad, though, but it

still makes Hoseok put his hands between Yoongi's cheek and the surface to prevent it from happening again. "Don't be an idiot"."Thank you, sir".Hoseok bites his lower lip to not laugh because of Yoongi's muffled words, until he hears him speak again."Move, please".When Yoongi pronounces those words, Hoseok starts to thrust again, accelerating the pace and making Yoongi bang his hips against the counter in the process. Yoongi doesn't mind neither the pain nor the bruises that will decorate his thighs later, because all he can think about is the thick, throbbing cock that goes in and out of his hole. Yoongi's hips start to move on their own again, his whole body twitching and his fingers losing the strength to keep groping his globes."You're really warm inside" Hoseok says, the hand on Yoongi's waist hardening the grip. "I-Is this enough for my slut? Or does he need to get spanked..." Hoseok breathes heavily when he loses the plot of his words because of how tight Yoongi felt around his cock "... Spanked again?"Yoongi nods while hiding his face on the extended arm Hoseok was using to protect him from doing another stupid thing again. He leaves his ass alone and almost immediately Hoseok starts to deliver sharp slaps on his skin, one after the other.Yoongi's muffled moans, the sound of skin against skin and Hoseok's palm landing on Yoongi's ass again and again were louder than thought, but even if they knew they had to watch out, neither cared. Hoseok felt fascinated with Yoongi's lewd sounds being muted by his shirt and his eyes after the cock's movement. Meanwhile Yoongi couldn't even think right as Hoseok slid so harshly. He wasn't able to feel his own legs or move a muscle, just because his body spun around how good Hoseok was fucking him.Hoseok stops mid thrust when Yoongi screams and lets his shirt's edge fall, meaning his prostate was finally reached. He starts rubbing against the sweet spot that has Yoongi whitening his eyes and letting his tongue hang out from his mouth, as drool drops land on the sink and precum glistens his pink tip."S-So good" Yoongi whimpers when Hoseok presses his chest against the eldest's back, reaching even deeper. "Sir is so... So goo-... Good with... With me...""Am I?" Hoseok asks with a smirk, using his hand to lightly move Yoongi's hips backwards and forwards. "Do you like this? Do you wanna cum?""I want... Cum inside... F-first...""Such a cumslut" Hoseok leaves a path of kisses that goes from Yoongi's side of the neck to his mid-shoulder. "You look so cute impaled on my cock... And look at your tiny dick... It's about to explode" Hoseok wraps his fist around Yoongi's manhood, rubbing his thumb tip against the slit of the head. Yoongi weakly bucks into Hoseok's hand as a response. "So tiny and useless""Move, please..." Yoongi pleads."Do it yourself". Even though Yoongi's eyes got darkened with pleasure, his face lit up no sooner he hears that.A cute giggle passes through his lips. Yoongi reunites all of his strength left to start moving roughy his hips as if his life depends on it, fucking himself onto the cock inside and mewling loudly every time a thrust hit his spot. Hoseok smiles looking directly at the camera, he really can't wait to jerk off to both videos of Yoongi worshipping him."You really do look cute on a cock, huh?" Hoseok says, stroking Yoongi in his fist and moving his hand up and down the length.Yoongi tries to say something along the lines of how big Hoseok's cock is but he just can't, not when he's fucking himself so good on the thick dick that makes him go crazy every damn time. His hips crash against the counter when he goes forwards, and crash against Hoseok's body when backwards. He can't care less if there's a possibility to get completely bruised out of this stall, just cause Hoseok's cock feels so fucking good that he can't wait to get filled up by the semen he adores the most.Tears streamed down his face and his whole body was burning, but Yoongi can't stop. He just wants Hoseok's warm thin white lines spilling on his insides. He feels how Hoseok starts to

grip harder on his hips but can't be sure if he's helping to accelerate the moves, just because Yoongi's so invested on the fuck that he can't take a moment to think. His mind is a blank page.Hoseok's hand strokes harder, nails dig deeper, and Yoongi doesn't even realize when his cum spills hard against his belly, staining his shirt and his navel. Yoongi doesn't stop his moves and neither does Hoseok, and even if he's really overstimulated Yoongi can't help but scream louder and clench himself tight."Fuck, baby, you're doing so good" Hoseok groans, licking the skin of Yoongi's nape. Yoongi's hole clenches and unclenches, and when Hoseok looks down he finally notices how deep he has reached: in the lowest part of Yoongi's belly a bulge appears and disappears with every thrust. That's what makes Hoseok squirt harder than he ever did before, shaking so much that he needs to grab the counter to not collapse. Yoongi cries out when the hot cum filles him completely; sweat, drool and tears glisten his face, cum on his chest, reddened face and crossed eyes as Hoseok's seed is deep inside.Hoseok knows how to fuck him silly, how to make him forget his own name, how to have him begging on his knees. Hoseok knows how to make a dumb slut out of Yoongi, a cum-covered mess, a cock-hungry whore. And Hoseok enjoys it. When Yoongi, completely loosened up, cries for more.He can't move and won't, feeling really weak but also completely satisfied as Yoongi's body still leans against his. Yoongi's breathing harshly with closed eyes and open mouth and for Hoseok it's the cutest thing ever, the way his chest inflates and deflates slow and gentle. Yoongi in post-orgasmic bliss has always been a view Hoseok adored.He loved that feeling, cum on his ass while Hoseok's body warmness kindly holds him. He feels Hoseok's lips leaving pecks on his cheek but he can't react nor respond, so he just stays still and receives."I'll pull out. Is that okay for baby?" Hoseok asks and Yoongi absently nods.Hoseok lets his baby rest against the sink as he pulls his cock off, which makes Yoongi whine when feeling the sudden emptiness. The cum drips down the pale thighs and Hoseok quickly takes his phone, kneels down and focuses the camera. He uses both the thumb and the index to let the hole be seen, showing how it clenches over nothing as more cum gets released from the inside.Hoseok can't hold it longer, so he slips two fingers in to stretch the entrance and let the semen dribble out. Looks like a waterfall. Yoongi moans brokenly and even moves a bit, trying to gain more contact, but quickly gives up as his body is too weak now. Hoseok stands up and his cream filled fingers leave the pink hole alone to get taken to Yoongi's mouth, which he receives without a second thought. He just kitten-licks the cum off, eyes still closed and lips swollen.When the fingers are finally clean, Hoseok lovely slaps Yoongi's cheek and pulls his pants up."I'm gonna clean you" Hoseok says, leaning over to get some toilet paper and holding firmly Yoongi's body."I want to sleep" the eldest murmurs, laying against the mirror."I know, kitten" Hoseok sits on the toilet and makes Yoongi get on his lap. Yoongi hides his face on Hoseok's crook of the neck as he's getting cleaned up, little pecks being left all over his face. "Baby did so well today. I love my little prince".Yoongi lets out a cute muffle as response.

_____________***THE END***_____________

[sincerelynamkook]

Studio M

Yoongi x Reader POV

Genre: Smut 🔥

Word Count: 1.4k

Playlist: “People” by Agust D. Honestly the whole D-2 mixtape

He sits in his chair, eyes intently focused on whatever is on his computer screen. Every now and then he’ll close his eyes and listen to the beat, mouthing a few words here and there softly before nodding his head and writing words down on his beat up journal, the one I gifted him on his birthday. I asked him once why he didn’t just type things on his phone or in his computer, he told me there was something cathartic about writing lyrics in his notebook. Now I make sure to pick up unique journals whenever I’m at the store, because it’s a special feeling knowing he writes his lyrics on something I gave him before sharing it with the rest of the world. 

I’m laying on his couch in his studio, waiting for him to finish up to go out to dinner, but the way he cracks his knuckles tells me he’s struggling with something. I get up from the couch and walk behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and drop a kiss on his temple. 

“Babe what’s wrong?” I ask him softly. He grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss on my palm. 

“I’m just missing something for this song, but I don’t know what it is.” He clicks on a few icons on his screen, it all looks like gibberish to me. 

“Anything I can do to help? You feel tense.” I say as I start to massage his shoulders and neck, feeling how knotted his muscles are. 

Instead of replying he swirls around in his chair to face me, bringing his hands up to my waist, he begins to softly caress my body under my shirt. With one hand on my back he pushes me forward until I’m sitting on top of him. He wraps his other hand around my neck and pushes his lips on mine. His tongue makes its way into my mouth, dominating my movements. I bite his tongue gently, smirking when he hisses. He sucks on my bottom lip, biting down hard on it before licking his way down my neck, sucking gently on the nape, most likely giving me a hickey. 

I start to roll my hips against his, looking for some type of relief. He reads my body like if he were the one that wrote me. Grabbing my thighs, he pushes himself off the chair and brings me with him. I take the moment to wrap my legs around his hips, not once stopping my movements. He sweeps everything off his desk before placing my now naked ass on it. He lets go off my mouth for a few seconds, I hear some clicks from his computer mouse but I don’t pay any mind to it because I’m so focused on the salty taste from the sweat on his neck. I start to remove his shirt off of his body and he does the same to my dress. I unbutton his jeans and bring them down his hips so I can free his dick from its constraints. 

My mouth waters when I feel his veins and heat against my hands but I know I have no time to taste his sweet cum when I hear his moans against my ear. I pump his dicks a few times, making sure to spread the precum around himself. He pushes my hips against him, entering me in one swift move. I moan, hard. Throwing my head back, he takes advantage of my exposed neck and begins to lick, suck, and bite on my neck and chest. I hold on to him, to the desk, anywhere that’ll give me a strong enough grip to withstand the strength of his fucking. 

Our moans are loud and deep, fueled by the hunger we have towards one another. We fuck raw, with unfiltered passion. I whine when I feel his dick leave my warmth, but I smile when he brings me off the desk to stand, flipping me over to face the computer screen. He pushes my torso down to the desk, I stick out my ass towards him, inviting him to enter me from behind. I yell “fuck” when he accepts my invitation and hits just the right spot. My moans become even more guttural, deep, passionate. He resumes his whispered adoration of me, whispering things like “damn baby you’re pussy was made for me” or “you’re the only that can make me feel this way.” My walls clench harder when he tells me he loves me. You don’t know the power of those words until you hear it from someone that barely says them. 

He starts rolling his hips slower, more gently, taking his time so that he can fill me deeply. I start to match his movements, moaning at the feel of every inch leaving and entering my pussy. He picks up the speed, my heart racing even faster telling me I’m about to cum. “Yoongs, babe slow down, I’m gona cum” I moan. Instead, he speeds up even more, my moans spreading throughout the room. I cum, hard, but he doesn’t stop his movements. He switches up his speed, slow, fast, my body not being able to take it so I cum again. A loud “fuck” makes it’s way out my mouth when he cums with me. He holds my hip tight, riding out his orgasm. I wipe my tears from the intensity of his lovemaking. He leans his torso against my back, kissing his way up my spine until his mouth is at my ear. He whispers a gentle “I love you” before dropping one last kiss against my neck. He brings me up to face him, kissing me softly on the lips. I wrap my arms around his shoulder, kissing him back and tell him I love him. With one last kiss on my forehead, he sits on his desk chair and places me on his lap. 

We sit in silence for a few beats, catching our breath, gathering our thoughts. I slowly start to doze off, feeling so sedated from multiple orgasms and his gentle caressing. I hear him get back to work, shown by the sounds of his mouse clicks here and there. 

“So I have a confession.” He softly says, waking me from my almost slumber. I lean my head back to look up at him and hum a “hmm”.

He smiles his innocent smile, telling me he’s up to something. My curiosity is piqued so I sit up. “What’d you do?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow. His innocent smile turns into a smirk. 

Without answering, he turns to his computer and starts to click on a few things. The room is then filled with a song, the one I’m assuming he was struggling on. It’s a sensual beat, his deep lustful voice spitting out a few verses. I close my eyes smiling at the sound of his sexy voice, but they spring open when I hear moans in the background. Not just any moans. But MY moans. I freeze in place, mouth open. These were the moans I let out not even 20 minutes ago. I freeze even more when I hear his moans mixed in with mine. 

“What. The. Fuck.” I whisper yell. His body shakes in laughter. 

“I found what the song was missing, and that was a piece of you.” All my anger disappears at those words. 

“Babe…” I whisper.

“I won’t apologize for recording us, not when it made this song perfect.” He replies seriously. 

“I can’t believe you recorded us. What will people think?!” 

“It’s not like they’re gona know.” He smirks. 

“Maybe, but your friends, my friends, our FAMILIES PROBABLY WILL KNOW OMG YOONGI WTF?!!!” I yell my anxiety increasing. 

He has the audacity to laugh again. I smack his chest in anger and his response is to kiss my forehead.

“Babe, admit it, it’s a good song.” He rubs my back while clicking some more on his computer. 

I sigh in defeat. It IS a good song. A GREAT song actually. A song I know will kill Army everywhere. I have no doubt I’ll be reading tweets and watching tik toks about them imagining what Yoongi is like in bed. Let’s just say I’m glad I’m the only one that really knows what he’s like in bed. 

“It is. It is. But you should know all your music is great babe.” I sigh again. “I’m not looking forward to getting shit from Jin, Jimin or Jungkook though. Those fucking bastards LOVE to make me blush.” He laughs before dropping a soft kiss on my lips. 

He stares at me for a few seconds before saying, “I love you babe. You’re my muse.”

[lokipoems]

yoon + kook = ❤️