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jjungkookislife · 10 months ago

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Tongue Like Candy Pt. 2 [Final]

ღ pairing: yoongi x f. reader

ღ genre: angst with a happy ending, brother's best friend au, smut [18+]

ღ summary: The last person you expect to see at your college graduation is the man who broke your heart three years ago. Despite the heartache you both went through, you can't stay away from each other. Will your brother be the obstacle in your relationship with Yoongi, or will it work out this time?

ღ wc: 15.8k

ღ warnings: pet names (princess, baby, babe), virgin!reader, age gap, sexual thoughts, corruption kink, self-deprecation, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol mention/use, food mention, mention of jimin x f. reader, hair pulling, marking (hickeys, biting, scratching), dry humping, shared shower, shirt used as a mouth gag, choking, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), protected sex, first time

ღ Date: March 9, 2024

ღ read part one here

And despite the ache in your heart that lingers and stings for the next three years, that’s exactly what happens.

It was just a one-time thing.

“Fucking finally!” you throw your cap in the air to the mix with everyone else’s not caring where yours landed before you push through the graduates to get a head start in leaving— ducking, and dodging professors on your quest to the door.

You had agreed to meet your family in the car, not wanting to spend an hour or more searching for them in the crowd of parents who are looking for their graduate as well. Nah, you had learned from high school.

“You should have tried out for track. I could barely keep up, princess.” You freeze, not wanting to turn around because you knew that voice anywhere and if you turned to face him, it would mean he was here for you and you’re not sure you could cope.

The last time you had seen him was well over three years ago. You had made it a point to avoid him at all costs, even turning down gatherings with your brother so you wouldn’t be bombarded by the events that had transpired on the night following your graduation party.

You couldn’t escape him, couldn’t run anywhere. With a deep breath, you turn around to face him for the first time, and it’s no shock when he takes your breath away.

“Yoongi.” his name rolls off your tongue easily, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Wow!” he exclaims, cheeks turning pink right after. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

You wish you could respond, say thank you, say anything. You’re unable to, taken aback by his beauty. This man only gets more and more scrumptious with age, huh? The last time you’d seen him, his hair had been orange—a menace to society. Now, his hair was back to black and deliciously long; you couldn’t help but think he was hot as fuck with his natural hair color.

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling overwhelmed. You look past him, seeing the doors open to let the parents out, and you know you’ll have a buffer in just a few minutes.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Your brother invited me, and I know we haven’t talked since…” Yoongi trails off, licking his lips. He runs his hand through his hair and you notice that he’s gotten much buffer since the last time you saw him, his suit jacket straining on his biceps. You remember what he’d felt like on top of you, cock rubbing against your wet cunt.

“Since you fucked my mouth,” you finish, instantly regretting it when his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

“Geez, princess. I wasn’t gonna be that crude about it,” Yoongi laughs, shaking his head. Good to know you hadn’t changed a bit since he stuffed his cock in your mouth, as you so politely reminded him.

“Yikes!” you grimace, smiling sheepishly after.

Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back. “You haven’t changed a bit, huh?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Other than cutting my hair.”

“It’s cute,” Yoongi is quick to say.

“Thanks. And thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, princess. I’ve missed you,” he admits easily with a shrug, and your heart thumps extra heavily.

You’re unsure what demon possesses you, because you step forward, forgetting about all your conflicting feelings as you wrap your arms around his neck, lips pressed to his. It takes Yoongi by surprise, but his arms easily find their way around your waist, kissing you back just as eagerly.

Just like that, the chemistry between you sparks once again. Yoongi holds you tight in his embrace, lips moving in sync with yours as your fingers toy with his hair, just as soft as you remember. You want to drown in his essence, kiss him within an inch of his life as your body arouses feelings you haven’t experienced since that fateful day.

“I-” you start as you unwrap yourself from Yoongi, taking a step back to put some much-needed distance between you.

“Hey, brat! Congrats!” Your brother cheers as he approaches you. He tugs you into a hug and you wonder if he witnessed your exchange with his best friend.

“Hey! Thanks, I’m so happy to be done with school. I busted my ass to graduate a year early.” you smile as your parents join you.

The five of you take pictures, soon joined by Jimin and Taehyung, who bring along their families. And like your high school graduation, there’s a party at your house tonight with all your friends and family invited. That includes Yoongi.

Over the past three years, you’ve managed to avoid him completely, which was easy, considering your brother wasn’t in town too often. Plus, being a college student meant you spent a lot of your time on campus, so even if your brother was in for a (short) visit, you could use school as an excuse.

Should you have talked to Yoongi? Sure. You probably could have found any of his socials if you tried, but it’s not like he was reaching out either. Your brother was more important than some romp in your room, of that you were sure. So why did it sting to know Yoongi wasn’t calling?

To make matters worse, the moment you step into your home, you’re left alone in the hallway with Yoongi. His gaze follows yours, staring at your bedroom door, his cheeks flushing as he looks away, only to lock eyes with you.

So many thoughts run through Yoongi’s head, so many unspoken words he wishes he could have said, and yet, there’s nothing but silence.

It’s in this silence that his thoughts stray, memories of that night seeping into the forefront of his mind.

The beating of his heart reverberates against his chest like a rhythmic drum, and the warmth that spreads through his veins is nearly too much, but the feel of your mouth on him easily combats that, yearning for more heat.

Your kisses are still a little awkward, but you mimic his movements easily, even brushing your tongue against his and taking a nip of his bottom lip. He notes the way you moan against him when he groans deep in his chest, arousal wetting your thighs.

When you take his cock in your mouth, he says your name in a way that would embarrass him if he were with anyone else. He doesn’t think of himself as a Casanova, but every girl is a new experience, and when it’s with someone you have feelings for—whatever they may be—it’s out of this world. He doesn’t want his heart to get in the way of whatever this is because you’re batting your lashes and pouting when he doesn’t react right away to the languid movement of your hand on his length.

A pouty frown sits on your pretty lips, tongue peeking to lick at them as you wait for him to give you his undivided attention once again. You’re so pretty on your knees, drooling over his cock, the excitement of doing more evident on your face.

By no means was this the best blowjob he's ever gotten, but what you lacked in skill you made up in enthusiasm. Besides, how could Yoongi ever compare you to anyone else when you were the only one who had his heart beating as rapidly as it was, new feelings arousing in him that he’d never felt before? You were incomparable.

“Make yourself at home,” your brother shouts from the top of the stairs, and you use that chance to run off to your bedroom, avoiding being in Yoongi’s presence for the time being. You know you won’t be able to avoid him for too long, but you just need a moment to catch your breath.

Yoongi watches you run off, wincing when the bedroom door slams shut and he’s left alone. Sure, he’s been in your home since that night, but never with you still in it. There had always been some excuse when Yoongi came around, some paper, some midterm, some way to avoid him.

You were always in his thoughts, from the moment he woke until the moment he went to bed, sometimes with his hand wrapped around his hard cock, reminiscing about your lips.

Day and night he tried to get his thoughts together, to piece every bit of himself into a picture, map out all his feelings, and decipher them before he made an even bigger mistake.

Yoongi typed up what he wanted to say to you in his notes app, locked for his eyes only, but courage always failed him. Time and time again, he’d copy the words, all ingrained in his mind as he hovered over your Instagram, wishing he wasn’t such a sucker and could just send the damn message. Back and forth he went each day, thoughts growing darker and darker.

You’re bothering her.

She doesn’t like you.

Leave her alone.

Despite those thoughts, Yoongi finds himself in front of your bedroom door, his fist raised to knock when the door opens, startling you and him.

“I-” he starts, looking at you as he licks his lips. Your gaze catches his lips, your hand reaching out for his shirt, tugging him into your bedroom before shutting the door after him.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, lips on his instantly as you push him onto your bed. Yoongi grips your waist, kissing you back as you settle over his lap.

This is wrong.

There’s so much left unsaid.

You need to leave.

His thoughts overwhelm him and he’s pulling away slowly, regretfully. He doesn’t miss the disappointed look that flashes across your face before you put your defenses back up.

Yoongi watches you as you get off his lap and move across the room. You’re pacing back and forth, and he eyes you warily. Of course, he’d love to smother you in kisses and hold you in his arms. Take you to bed until his name is all you can say, but he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and his eyes widen as he meets your gaze. “I shouldn’t have kissed you at graduation or now.”

“Princess,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than be here with me. I won’t let this happen again. I'm sorry.”

“Princess, just let me talk to you. There’s nothing to apologize for unless you’re dating someone?” Yoongi’s words feel like a knife is in his throat as he says them, and he bites his lip as he awaits your answer.

“No.” you shake your head. As if there could ever be anyone else when you’ve spent the last three years dreaming of seeing him again, of kissing him.

Okay, there was that brief make-out session with Jimin that one time, but that was just for fun. Yoongi doesn’t have to know about that.

“No?” Yoongi repeats, almost hopeful. He swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes follow the movement. He clenched his hands, veins prominent, and smirks when you nearly salivate over it.

“Has there been anyone since?” It’s none of his business. He knows it’s none of his business, but fuck, he wants to know. He needs to know if anyone else has touched you like he did—if they’ve fallen for you as he had, and if they still think of you.

“Yes,” you answer, and his world shakes. That’s not the answer he was expecting, but he knows it was bound to happen after all.

“Oh,” his dejected sigh fills the space between you.

“It didn’t mean anything. It’s stupid, so stupid,” you laugh as you grip your hair in your hands and squeeze. “But I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since and I thought kissing someone else would fix it but it didn’t. Nothing ever did, and it hurts, Yoongi. It hurts to know we couldn’t have been anything, and it hurts to know I was so easy to forget.”

Yoongi stands. “Easy to forget?”

You nod.

“Easy to forget?” He repeats with a scoff. “If you’re so easy to forget, why have I been thinking about you every day since then? Why have I been hoping you’d call or message me, so I could see you again? You dodged every opportunity you could to see me and I thought that’s what you wanted, so I backed off. After all, I wasn’t trying to force my way into your life. But you are in no way easy to forget and if that’s what you think, then I haven’t done a good job of proving just how unforgettable you are, princess.”

You’re utterly stunned by his words. You blink, moving on autopilot as you grip him by the shirt, only hesitating for a split second before his hands grip your face. The heated stare he rewards you with leaves you breathless. The last time you’d seen him looking this intent, this serious, was that night in your bedroom and as those thoughts come to mind, you slam your lips on his.

Your lips are on his instantly, moving perfectly with his in a more practiced way than before. Yoongi bites back the jealousy he feels because you weren’t his and whoever taught you this was a figureless head in his mind. However, that does little to quell the jealousy that bubbles deep in his abdomen as his fingers grip your hair to hold you in place.

Yoongi allows you to lead after a beat, curious to see what else you’ve learned in his absence. His hands grab your hips, holding you to him as your tongue prods his lips apart when he makes no move to do so.

For a few moments, you allow yourself to forget all the pain and sorrow you went through. Kissing Yoongi feels just like the first time, but so much better. This time you’re not fumbling around, wondering if you’re doing it correctly or if it’s a massive failure. This time you kiss him with confidence, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him close, teeth gently nipping on his bottom lip just to hear him groan, ending the kiss so he can press his forehead to yours. His gaze burns deep into your soul, and you wonder how you could have lived without this man for so long. Feelings you swear you buried away begin to rise to the surface, and as you keep your gaze locked on his, you realize just how fucked you are, because this time—this time—you know you won’t recover from the heartbreak again.

“Yoongi?!” You both step away from each other at the sound of your brother’s voice. Your heart is thundering in your chest and Yoongi echoes it. He runs a hand through his hair, looking in the mirror in your bedroom before he slowly opens your bedroom door.

Your brother is at the top of the stairs, calling out to Yoongi again.

“Coming!” Yoongi looks at you one last time, a frown on his lips. Would it always be like this?

“Go,” you mouth, and he nods. He hesitates, but Yoongi gets called again.

He curses, “I’ll talk to you tonight, princess. Please wait up.”

You nod before urging him to go. Your brother’s footsteps are growing louder as he rounds the landing.

“Dude, what took you so long?” Your brother asks, annoyed, as he finally looks up from his phone. “I need help getting the drinks in the cooler. Let’s go!”

“Sorry, I had to go to the bathroom.” Yoongi shrugs but follows your brother out of the house and to the car.

You watch them go, shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. Your lips still tingle from his kiss, and you hate yourself for feeling this way again. You had never really moved on from Yoongi or from that night. You had tried fooling yourself into believing you had, but seeing him again, kissing him, brought back all those feelings tenfold and you knew you were screwed.

Fuck Min Yoongi.

“Babe! Why are you hiding in here?” Taehyung asks as he steps into your bedroom hours later. You’d hidden for most of the night, which was unusual, seeing as it was a party to celebrate you.

“You know this party is for you, right?” Jimin asks as he follows Tae and shuts the door after himself.

“It’s for you guys too,” you answer weakly as you lay back on your bed. You miss the look of concern exchanged between both your friends as they climb onto the bed. Jimin on your left and Taehyung on your right.

“Okay, spill it,” Jimin demands as he turns to his side, resting his elbow on the bed and his head in his palm

“Yeah, and don’t even think about lying,” Taehyung states firmly, knowing his bull shit meter will catch it.

“Yoongi kissed me,” you admit softly.

Jimin raises a brow. “At your last graduation? We know that.”

“Is the party bringing back memories?” Taehyung asks curiously.

“No. I mean, he kissed me. Today,” you emphasize.

“Wait.” Jimin hops off your bed. “That bastard’s here?”

Taehyung gets off the bed as well, heading to your bedroom door before you scramble to stop them.

“Stop! Don’t go out there.”

“He kisses you and then leaves you again? I’m rocking his shit up! He can’t do that to you again! We won’t allow it!” Jimin is fuming. Taehyung nods in agreement. You had been broken up about that night and not seeing Yoongi after. You wallowed in your sadness, wondering if you hadn’t been good enough or if he hated you. Your best plan of action was to avoid him at all costs, which you did successfully until today.

Jimin and Taehyung had been around to pick up the pieces and glue them back together. They hated how this situation had affected you. They knew you couldn’t separate your actions from your feelings and, try as you might, your denials just proved empty. Because you did have feelings for Min Yoongi. You always had and your little diary proved it and it was cemented further that night. It may not have meant much to Yoongi, having been more experienced, but it meant something to you.

Yoongi was the first and only one you had gone that far with. Sure, you had made out with Jimin once, but it didn’t compare to Yoongi. Don’t tell Jimin, though.

“He wants to talk later,” you whisper.

Taehyung clicks his tongue. “So he can leave for another 3 years? I don’t think so.”

“He’s right, babe. We can’t keep you from doing what you want. And we’ll support your decisions, but just tread lightly, okay? Don’t fall for his charms so easily,” Jimin warns before he’s wrapping you up in a hug.

“You’re our baby.”

“I love you guys. Now go out and have fun. I’m gonna freshen up and meet you out there, okay?” You force a smile and they nod, kissing your cheek before stepping out of your bedroom.

Jimin and Tae remain at your side for a while until you’re caught in a conversation with relatives, and you forget about Yoongi even being in attendance. You decide to enjoy yourself and worry about him tomorrow.

Or so you thought.

With an empty cup, you head to the kitchen for a refill. You’re quite surprised to see it’s vacant as you go to the counter to make a drink.

“Have you been avoiding me?” you curse when you hear his voice. Hands shaking with nerves, you slowly turn around to face Yoongi.

He’s leaning against the entryway, a smug smile on his lips, but you know better. He’s putting on a cool facade for you, but his eyes betray him. Yoongi looks over his shoulder, making sure the coast is clear before stepping further into the kitchen.

“Nope.” you shrug, turning your attention to your drink. “Just busy.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, bringing your drink to your lips. Yoongi watches you intently before he takes the cup from your hands and sets it back on the counter.

“I need you,” he whispers before his lips are on yours. Immediately, your hands grip his shirt to pull him closer, a whimper escaping you when he’s got you pressed to the counter and his hands grip your waist.

“Yoongi,” his name slips from your lips, forgetting for a moment that things were rocky between you. Why couldn’t you just forget and let live?

“Kiss me,” he pleads in a low, needy tone that makes your head spin.

So you kiss him.

Again, and again, and once more for good measure.

Yoongi moans your name softly, making your body burn with desire as your fingers tug on his hair. He curses, his cock twitching in his pants as his hands squeeze your waist. What he wouldn’t do to kiss you from head to toe, spend every moment from now until morning devouring you while you call out his name.

“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips as you pant, trying to catch your breath. Yoongi grins, thankful he’s had the same effect on you as you did on him.

There’s so much he’d like to say, so much he wishes he could tell you, but like always, he’ll have to wait as footsteps fill the hall.

Yoongi steps away, busying himself by getting a drink while you open the fridge to hide your face. It would easily give you away.

“There you are! I swear you’re hiding from me tonight,” your brother jokes as he leans against the fridge, completely ignoring Yoongi as he chugs his drink.

“Just needed a drink. You know how Aunt May gets at parties,” you lie but your brother laughs.

“Did she tell you the vacation story again?” he asks with a shake of his head.

“Yes, but she gave me a check, so I listened for once,” you giggle, showing him the check your aunt wrote for you.

“Nice,” your brother hugs you. “I think everyone’s wrapping up, if you wanna go say bye.”

“I should do that,” you agreed quickly, going around your brother to leave.

“We’ll have lunch tomorrow! I’m staying the night until my apartment is ready!” he calls. You throw a thumbs up over your head to acknowledge him before scurrying away from Yoongi’s heated gaze.

It’s almost an hour later before you’re back in your bedroom. You’ve taken a shower, put your pajama shorts on, and another oversized shirt you’ve stolen from the pile of Yoongi’s in your brother’s closet. You’ve managed to grow your collection while your brother’s been gone, and now nearly every shirt of Yoongi’s sits hidden in the last drawer of your dresser, just beneath your other pajamas.

When you get in bed, you’re not too surprised when there’s a light knock on your door. Nerves bubble up inside you as you get out of bed as quietly as possible.

You know your parents have gone with your Aunt May for the night. She always has too many glasses of wine and your parents like to make sure she’s okay, often staying the night and having brunch in the morning. The only one home and upstairs in bed is your brother, his loud snores fill the home.

Slowly, you turn the doorknob, opening the door to see Yoongi.

“Hey,” he greets you in a whisper. You grip him by the shirt, tugging him into your bedroom. He stumbles over his feet before you shut the door to press him against it.

Yoongi grunts when his back meets the wood, cock twitching immediately as your lips press against his. Yoongi is caught off guard but his hands cup your face and before you know it, it’s you that’s pressed against the door.

“Yoongi,” you moan his name just like he remembers, cock throbbing in the confines of his jeans. He kisses you deeper, drinking you in as his tongue brushes yours.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans as he kisses his way to your neck, teeth nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His mark is left behind, soothed by his fiery tongue as he moves downward, hands gripping the shirt you’ve stolen from him. At this point, it’s all he ever wants to see you in.

With ease, Yoongi kisses you as he leads you to your bed. He drops when the back of his knees hits the mattress, taking you with him. You squeal in surprise, giggling when he kisses you to muffle your sounds.

“We need to be quiet,” he reminds you. You nod, licking your lips as you move to straddle him, lacing your fingers with his as you press his hands over his head, grinding down on him. Yoongi moans your name, eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys your hips moving together.

Fuck, he was supposed to be talking to you, not grinding on you.

“Baby,” he breathes, throwing his head back when you grind on him harder, biting back moans as you release his hands to grip your tits. Fuck, why was he stopping this?

“We need to talk,” he reminds you as you kiss his neck, teeth sinking into his skin and your tongue laving over it to soothe the sting. Fuck, his head is spinning. This is everything he’s been dreaming of and more.

“So talk,” you say as you grip his shirt, tugging it over his head. Yoongi is malleable beneath you, at your mercy as you have your way with him. He’s so lost in you, intoxicated by your scent, your lips, your hips.

Yoongi enjoys himself for a moment longer before he kisses your lips and gently pushes you off his lap. He cards a hand through his hair, a small smile on his lips. “Talk, princess.”

You bite your lip. “I’d rather kiss.”

Yoongi chuckles. “So would I.”

You grin, reaching for him again, and Yoongi allows you to steal one kiss before he scoots away.

“We need to talk, baby. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Not again. It hurt too much to be away from you for so long, and now that I have you in front of me, I realize just how much I missed you. How much I wish I had chased after you or at the very least, said something.” Yoongi clears his throat, he notes the way you’ve stiffened.

“I wanted to talk to you, Yoongi. Every time I tried, I thought of my brother. I thought of you not reaching out. I thought it was better this way,” you shrug, hiding your face in your hands.

“Princess,” Yoongi pulls you to his side. “I didn’t know you wanted me to. You avoided me after, and I was scared I had overstepped. I haven’t gone a day without thinking of you, of wishing I could have you in my arms just like this.”

You melt, kissing his cheek. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I want to be with you, princess. I want to take you out. I want to spoil the fuck out of you. I want you to be mine,” Yoongi admits as he caresses your face. You feel like you’re falling for him all over again, your heart thumping wildly in your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’d love nothing more,” you smile widely, kissing his face again and again until he’s chuckling. His hands grip your waist, allowing you to kiss him as much as you want. You eventually kiss his lips, drowning in him until your back meets your bed, and he’s hovering over you.

“Yoongi,” his name rolls off your tongue in a heady tone that drives him insane, his hips grinding down on yours as you spread your legs for him, welcoming him in between. He hisses, cursing as his hair falls over his eyes and he huffs a breath as you brush it away, tugging at the roots to make him moan.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he teases with a smirk.

“Who says I won’t finish it?” you goad him and he licks his lips.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, baby. I want you so bad.” he kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip as your hands move down to his body, nails digging into his shoulders.

His name escapes you as his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your throat. Your fingers tug at his hair, making him groan against you. You want him desperately, hoping you’ll get all of him tonight, but you both freeze when your brother's snoring stops and his footsteps echo upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck,” Yoongi pulls away, a hand carding through his mused hair. He looks at you with wide eyes as he bites his lip.

This is not how you wanted your brother to find out.

You both stay still, not making a sound until you hear the footsteps again and minutes later when the toilet flushes. Moments later, the snores resume.

“Fuck,” Yoongi chuckles nervously. His hands tremble as he looks at you. He bites his lip nervously, his hands going into his pockets. “I should go to the couch.”

You don’t say a word as he grabs his shirt and tugs it back on. You watch him awkwardly from your bed, biting your lip. Yoongi walks over to you, gently pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, princess.”

Morning comes sooner than you’d like. Your brother’s loud music and off-key singing greet you the moment your eyes open. At least someone’s in a good mood, you think.

Groaning, you huff as you rub your eyes. You’re tired, having slept very little, thinking about every word exchanged with Yoongi. After deciding not to overthink, your mind filled with every kiss, every touch you exchanged and that led to your hand between your legs, softly moaning his name. You hated that he was just on the other side of your bedroom door, unable (and unwilling?) to do anything about it with your brother upstairs. But what did you expect? He’d run out of here the last time the two of you had been together, just like this. You couldn’t keep getting your hopes up. Three years ago you decided your brother was more important, so you’d write last night off as a one-time thing, again.

“Wake up!” Your brother shouts as he knocks on your bedroom door. You curse at him, groaning as you get out of bed. You hit your palm on the door in answer, enough for your brother to leave you alone while you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You look at your reflection, cringing when you see a small hickey on your neck. Damn Yoongi.

You head to your closet to change your shirt before opening your bedroom door and heading to the kitchen.

Yoongi is at the stove with your brother, a spatula in his hand a second before he’s swatting your brother. “Don’t touch it!”

“It’s going to be burned!” your brother protests, but Yoongi swats his hand again and the two argue back and forth, only turning when you open the fridge door to grab the juice.

“Good morning,” Your brother grins. You grunt as Yoongi chuckles.

“Still not a morning person?” Yoongi laughs and you flip him off.

“Anyway,” your brother rolls his eyes. “I’m getting my apartment keys tomorrow so I can start moving in.”

“Congrats!” You exclaim as you take a seat on a stool.

“Everything I own is in storage and Steph ordered a couch on Tuesday. Our bed will be there tomorrow afternoon, so I just need to move in with my stuff.” Your brother explains.

“When do I get a tour?” You ask as you try your best to avoid looking at Yoongi. Your brother shrugs.

“You wouldn’t need a tour if you’d gone to Yoongi’s place that one time I invited you,” your brother laughs, turning to smack Yoongi on the shoulder.

“Yoongi’s place?” You choke out.

“Yeah?” Your brother quirks his head. “Did I not mention it was in his building?”

“No,” you swallow thickly, reaching for your glass of juice to gulp it down. By the stove, Yoongi is gripping the spatula harder than necessary, the egg for gyeran bap sizzling on the pan. Perhaps he should have said something?

“Yoongi got me in with the landlord,” your brother grins. “I can’t wait to move in with Steph. It’s nice to be home after traveling so much. It’s exhausting.”

“When are you proposing?” You smile mischievously as your brother whips his head. He rubs the back of his neck and Yoongi smirks behind him. Your brother had met Steph on one of his trips home, they’d been together for almost three years now.

Your brother pats his pocket and out comes a small black velvet box.

“Shut up!” You shout as you set your glass down on the counter with a thud. Yoongi chuckles as he turns the stove off and begins plating the food.

“I had Yoongi help me pick it out,” your brother admits as he opens the box, and a gorgeous ring sits nestled in the middle.

“Oh, she’s gonna flip!” You squeal as you jump up and down. Your brother laughs, shutting the box in case your excitement knocks the ring out of his hands.

“I’m gonna wait until we’re settled in our apartment before proposing,” your brother explains as he thanks Yoongi with a nod when he places the food in front of the two of you. “So don’t go opening that big mouth of yours, brat!”

Offended, you place your hand on your chest. “Me?!”

“You’re easy to read,” Yoongi says with a shrug as he takes a bite of his food. “Plus, you’re not as quiet as you think.”

You stare at him, mouth agape as he meets your gaze, fiery and knowing. Perhaps he had heard you last night…

“See, he knows what I’m talking about,” your brother is oblivious as he eats his food. “I wanna tell Mom and Dad first and of course plan it out perfectly and that’s going to take a while.”

“We’ll help with whatever you need!” You exclaim and Yoongi laughs.

“I’m being volunteered to help?”

“Yes!” You huff with a roll of your eyes. “Why wouldn’t you? You got plans?”

“Nope,” Yoongi chuckles before turning to your brother. “You know I’ll help with whatever you need. Just say the word.”

“Thanks, man,” your brother smiles brightly. “And of course, I’ll help with whatever you need when it’s your turn.”

You freeze, looking away from Yoongi to stare down at your plate. A short silence follows and Yoongi scrounges up a passing smile.

“Uh, thanks.”

Your brother nods, groaning when his phone rings on the counter. He answers it immediately and is soon rushing off when he’s informed his apartment key is ready today if he wants it early, but he’s got an hour to pick it up before the landlord leaves for the day.

“I’ll be back, maybe. Steph and I want to get some of her stuff in there today from her parents’ house so I might be back later. Mom and Dad are still with Aunt May so I’ll text you!”

Your brother waves and before you can blink, you hear his car peeling out of the driveway, music blasting loud enough to rattle the windows. You’re sure your neighbors will be glad when he’s gone.

Silence fills your home after your brother’s gone. You wash the dishes and head to your room to change, finding Yoongi has done the same.

Eyeing you hungrily, Yoongi takes in every bit of skin showing where your dress ends just above your knees. He smiles when he sees how flustered you’ve become, turning your head just to avoid his gaze but display the small mark he left last night.

Biting his lip, he keeps himself from saying something explicit, offering you a compliment before asking about your plans.

“I was going to head outside to clean up any mess left behind,” you shrug and Yoongi follows you toward your backyard.

Most of it is clean but a few cups and plastic cutlery litter the ground. You’re thankful nothing nasty has fallen into the pool and you debate inviting Tae and Jimin over for a swim.

“The party was fun last night,” Yoongi comments as he picks up a trash bag left sitting on a table.

“Yeah, Jimin almost convinced my mom to do body shots off him,” you roll your eyes in annoyance, glad you were able to swoop in and escort your mother away.

Yoongi’s laughter fills the air, his eyes closed as his head is thrown back. His hand rests on his stomach as it begins to ache.

“I would have paid money to see that,” he says once he’s controlled his laughter but it still lingers in his words.

“Yoon!” You whine, shoving him playfully. “That’s my mother.”

“She knows how to have a good time,” Yoongi smiles smugly and you huff.

“Gonna get her to do body shots off of you at the next party then,” you grumble.

Yoongi grins wolfishly and you shove him again. He cackles when you try a third time and miss his chest; his hand wraps around your wrist before he raises it to his lips to kiss your skin.

“I’m kidding,” Yoongi says with a gummy smile that makes your heart flip in your chest. You could melt just looking at him.

The late spring heat begins to get to you as you ignore him and finish cleaning up. He’s got a shit-eating grin the whole time, satisfied with himself for annoying you. It reminds him of the times you’d hang around him, always with a quip at the ready to shut him or your brother down. It’s good to know he can still get under your skin and take what he gives out just like he does with you.

“Here,” you growl as you shove a cold water bottle into his hands once you’re done cleaning up the backyard. He thanks you, taking the lid off and squeezing it harder than necessary to splash you and himself in the process.

“Min Yoongi!” You scream his name as you step back and start pulling at your sundress, thankful you’ve put on a bathing suit underneath it.

“Whoops, sorry,” Yoongi shrugs as he sips his water and you snatch it from him to spray him with it. His shirt clings to his body and you stare with lustful eyes as Yoongi simply takes it off.

“See something you like?” He asks cheekily as he steps closer to you but you’re left speechless and frozen in your spot. Your body is warm, from the heat or Yoongi—you’re unsure— as you do the first thing that comes to mind.

A splash is heard as you jump into the pool. Yoongi is left flabbergasted in his spot before he joins you with a cannonball right beside you.

“You’re insufferable,” You hiss as you wipe the water off your face. Yoongi swims closer to you until he’s but a hair's breadth away.

“And yet you still like me, princess.”

Laughter is the first thing your brother hears as he opens the front door. He’s in a hurry, having realized halfway to the landlord’s office that he’s forgotten his wallet.

Normally, he wouldn’t worry about it but he was told to bring his ID to pick up his keys. So he turned around and rushed home taking a few yellow lights that may have been turning red by the time he crossed the intersection.

He knows exactly where to find his wallet (on the coffee table), having tossed it there before helping Yoongi cook, assuring himself he wouldn’t forget it if he had to go out, but alas here he is.

The back door of his home is slightly ajar and he’s about to scold you when he hears you and Yoongi’s distinct laughter. He grabs his wallet off the coffee table and heads to the back door where he pauses.

You and Yoongi are laughing, splashing each other with water, and climbing out of the pool just to cannonball back in. Your brother smiles, shaking his head as he notes how the two of you steal glances at each other.

He may be overprotective but he wasn’t an idiot. He could see the way you looked at his best friend and it wasn’t until the past year that he noted the way Yoongi would look at you. Well, not you but pictures of you that your brother would show him whenever he was back in town.

“She’s going on vacation with Jimin and Tae,” he remembers telling Yoongi the last time as he sat on Yoongi’s old gray couch. “They’re going to some beach resort.”

Yoongi had nearly ripped the phone out of his hand to see the pictures. Your smile is bright and wide in every photo. It all made sense then, the brightness in Yoongi’s eyes but sadness still lingered in the dark depths. Perhaps it wasn’t his place to stand between you if it meant the two of you could be happy.

But nothing ever changed.

You still avoided Yoongi at every chance and as hard as your brother tried to get the ball rolling, it didn’t. You were busy. Always so busy, too busy for him and too busy for Yoongi.

Now stumbling into the both of you alone, he wonders if something was there, if it always was and he was just unaware.

He feels like he’s intruding now. He’s gotten what he came for and he shuts the door when you squeal Yoongi’s name once again after he’s splashed you. He smiles to himself as he takes his leave.

“You’re so annoying!” You yell when the water hits your face once again. This time you were swimming laps and Yoongi was ahead of you, kicking his feet harder than necessary just to splash more water in your face and causing you to lose.

Yoongi smirks when he reaches the end of the pool, waiting for you to arrive before he climbs out.

“Thought you were the captain of the swim team,” Yoongi shrugs, a teasing smile on his lips as you finally reach him.

You pull yourself out of the pool to sit beside him, glaring.

“I was the towel girl! And only because Jimin was on the team,” you grumble, shoving him to the side when his smile grows wider.

“Come on, Little Mermaid, let’s get you inside,” Yoongi rises to his feet, offering you his hand that you swat away. He rolls his eyes, picking up his shirt from the ground and your dress as you get up and join him.

Yoongi leads you inside the house, puddles forming on the floor where you walk.

“We’re making a mess,” you groan.

“We’ll clean it up,” he assures you.

“Come on, it’ll be easier if we contain it to one floor,” you take Yoongi’s hand and he stumbles after you as you lead him to your bedroom, locking the door and leading him to your bathroom.

Yoongi’s heart is racing. He bites his lip as he watches you turn the shower on. When you start to take off your swimsuit, he turns his back to you.

“I can wait my turn in the room. I’ll just need a towel to dry off with,” he says nervously.

“Get in, Yoongi,” you demand as you step into the shower, hot water enveloping your body and making you groan.

Yoongi hesitates for a moment before you speak again. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen already.”

Yoongi’s face flushes with heat. He slowly takes his board shorts off and steps in with you. Your eyes are closed as you stay under the water and a shiver runs down his spine.

Slowly, your eyes open and your hands reach for him. You smile softly when water soaks him, his hair sticking to his forehead as he smiles at you.

You’re still unsure of where you stand, still cycling through your feelings, and knowing this path could lead you to happiness but also despair once again. You’re not sure you could overcome this heartbreak again but with Yoongi standing in front of you in silence, lost in those same thoughts, you kiss him to silence them.

There’s no rush in your kiss, no urgency, nothing but soft lips and whimpered moans. Yoongi cups your face gently, delicately, almost afraid you’ll break if he lets go. Your hands rest on his shoulders, warm and wet underneath your palms as your lips part for him. A muffled moan leaves you, a groan soon after when your back meets the iciness of the wall behind you.

Yoongi’s palm hits the wall with a soft slap. His fingers grip your chin to tilt your head upward, exposing more of your neck as his lips trail wet kisses downward.

“I’ve missed you,” Yoongi admits quietly against your skin. You’re positive his words weren’t meant for you to hear but you hold him tighter.

“I wanted to reach out,” you say with a shaky breath. “But he was so glad there was nothing between us. Every time I tried, I thought of him and closed myself off. I figured it would be easier to forget you but it never was.”

“Baby,” Yoongi’s tone is soft, his gaze blurry as tears fill your eyes and his.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, shaking your head as he hugs you. You don’t want to let him go, not again. Your brother will have to understand, he’ll just have to, and if not…

“Don’t think about it right now, okay? We can talk to him together or I can do it alone. There’s no rush, princess. He’s not going anywhere,” Yoongi kisses the top of your head.

Gently, he wipes your tears before he’s washing your hair. His fingers massage your scalp, humming as he goes. He helps you wash your body, no touch leading to more and you shyly return the favor in between kisses and serene smiles.

Though you still feel apprehensive about moving forward, you trust that this time will be different. Maybe you’ve become an optimist or maybe you just want to fool yourself into thinking so. Whatever it may be, you hope you’re not left standing on your own in the end.

After your shower, you dry off in your bedroom. You’ve put one of Yoongi’s shirts on and he’s borrowed a pair of shorts you’d stolen from him.

“I want those back,” you tell him as you get in bed with him beside you.

“Aren’t you just a little thief,” he scoffs as he wraps around you to pull you close. Your head rests on his bare chest, your index finger tracing patterns on his skin.

“It’s all I had,” you murmur, ignoring the ache in your throat from unshed tears.

“I have more clothes at home for you to take,” he promises, rubbing your shoulder.

“I’ll take a bag with me, then,” you sneer. He pinches your thigh playfully.

“Hey!”

“Swiper, no swiping!”

“Aw. Man!” You laugh, poking Yoongi in the ribs. He winces, sticking his tongue out at you before you’re both startled by his phone vibrating on your nightstand.

Your brother’s name appears on the screen and you both freeze. Carefully, Yoongi untangles himself from you before answering the call, selecting speakerphone and placing his finger over his lips.

“Hello?”

“Hey, go home and grab an overnight bag. It’s my last night at home and I want to spend it with you and my sister.”

“I thought you and Steph were going to move her stuff in?” Yoongi asks.

“We got most of it but her parents want to take her to dinner. This is her first time moving out so it’s a big deal. Her siblings are a little upset, as well. She’s the first to move.”

“That’s gotta be rough,” Yoongi states. He knows your parents were used to your brother coming and going so there was no big to do or celebration for him.

“Yeah, but they’ll be able to visit often. We live a few blocks away from her parents home. Anyway, I’ll be another hour or so. I have to drop off Steph and then grab dinner for us. I’ll call when I’m close so you can help me bring the food in. I gotta go,” your brother doesn’t let Yoongi get another word in before he hangs up.

“Guess I’m staying the night,” Yoongi chuckles as you wrap your arms around him.

“Good. I like it when you’re here,” you kiss his cheek before getting out of bed and putting on a pair of shorts.

“Come on, let’s go to your place.”

“You just want to take more of my stuff,” Yoongi chuckles as he gets up and pops into your closet for a shirt.

“I’ll see when we get there.” You smile, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand to lead him out of your bedroom and out of your home.

“Don’t expect much,” Yoongi tells you as he unlocks his front door. “I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“Lemme in!” You pout, nearly stomping your foot on his unwelcome mat. The cat flipping you off totally sets off the mood. Yoongi didn’t like visitors much less those unannounced, so this was an enormous deal for him.

“I’m going! I’m going!” He exclaims as you slide your hands under his shirt, wanting to feel his body once again and knowing you’d end up making out on his doorstep if he didn’t let you in soon.

With an exaggerated flair, Yoongi opens the door and allows you in. You nearly tackle him out of the way in your haste inside.

Yoongi’s apartment is so him. The living room is large with an old gray couch, black cushions fluffed up, and sitting on top. His coffee table is small but littered with magazines and books half read and forgotten.

On the wall opposite the couch sits a large TV mounted in line with the couch. The TV stand beneath it is simple, charcoal in color, and holds all of Yoongi’s consoles and a few board games.

In the corner, a black guitar sits on its stand and Yoongi gives you a minute to browse his game collection.

“I’m gonna pack a bag while you snoop,” he calls as he heads to his bedroom.

“I’m not snooping!” You shout in response but his laughter is the only answer you get.

However, you linger at his video games, several titles sounding familiar and you gasp when you see a binder tucked under one of the consoles. You open it, surprised to see old Pokémon cards followed by old Yu-Gi-Oh cards. You had your own set tucked in the back of your closet, collecting dust and holding precious memories of your past.

You set the binder back in its place before going down the hallway toward Yoongi’s bedroom.

The bedroom door is cracked and you push it open further. Yoongi looks up from his duffel bag sitting on the bed. His closet is open and he waves his hand toward it.

“Pick a few things you like,” he simply says as he walks to his dresser to get a pair of socks and some underwear. You smile when you go through every shirt once and then twice, picking up a few you like.

Yoongi chuckles when he sees your hands full. He takes them from you and folds them neatly to stuff on top of his other belongings.

“Guess I’ll have to go shopping soon,” he muses as he sets the bag on his nightstand and reaches for you.

“Come here.”

You do so, kissing his cheek to make him blush when he drops the two of you on his bed.

You scoot further, getting comfy and staring up at the ceiling. You wonder how wonderful it would be to wake up just like this, wrapped in Yoongi’s embrace every morning.

Yoongi scoots closer, his fingers lacing with yours.

“Tell me everything I missed,” Yoongi whispers as he brings your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on your hand.

“Where to begin?” You muse as you turn to face him. His gaze bores into yours and he looks so cute with his hair splayed out on his pillow and his soft pink lips turned upward in an encouraging smile.

You collect your thoughts, soon telling him about everything he missed. The struggles of university, the little fights with friends, your new favorite foods, and ones you couldn’t stand the sight of. You talked of vacations and concerts, jobs you were considering applying for, and those you wanted to avoid, and Yoongi listened intently. He took mental notes, thought of date ideas based on your interests, and laughed when you did.

“What about you?” You ask when you’re done.

“Hmm?”

You laugh. “What were you up to?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Yoongi shrugs noncommittally and you poke his chest. With a laugh, he takes your finger and brings it to his mouth, teeth nipping your fingertip.

“Hey!”

A smile tugs at his lips when he releases you. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling for a moment. “Parties, work, made a few new friends. Not a lot, honestly.”

You climb on his lap, straddling his hips. Yoongi’s hands go to your waist, sliding under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin.

“How many nights did you spend in bed thinking of me?” You ask boldly, heart racing in your chest.

“All of them,” he answers honestly as his hand moves to cup your face, bringing you to his lips.

A needy moan escapes you when his teeth tug on your bottom lip, his other hand moving down the curve of your back to grab a handful of your ass.

“Always thought of you. Of seeing you again. Of holding you again, kissing you. There’s not a moment I didn’t think of you. Never knew if I could ever have you,” Yoongi admits.

“Yoongi,” you say his name breathlessly, gripping his shirt to make sure he won’t disappear this time.

Yoongi swallows thickly as he looks up at you. He sighs heavily, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. I’m sorry I let you go so easily. I never want to make you feel like that again. That weekend meant something to me. I never want you to think that it didn’t.”

Softly, you caress his cheek. Your gaze is intense as you refuse to look away from him. His hands settle on your hips, more for him than for you, needing something to anchor him.

“After you left, in the morning he came to my room happy I’d gotten over my crush on you,” you explain, batting away the tears that form. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Yoongi takes your hands in his, fingers laced as he squeezes tight. “We’ll tell him about us this time. He’ll understand now.”

“You think so?” You bite your lip as you ponder what your brother’s reaction will be. You haven’t talked much since he got back in town, his impending move taking up most of his time and now his soon-to-be-fiancée.

“He will. It won’t be like last time. I swear,” Yoongi’s tone is firm, already decided.

“Okay,” you nod, curling into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

Yoongi holds you for a few more minutes before the two of you leave his home. He treasures the last few minutes with you before he has to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the night.

“Who else is coming?” You ask when Yoongi and your brother set the bags of takeout on the table.

“Just us?” Your brother responds, puzzled. “Why?”

You wave your hand at the bags and your brother shrugs. “I’m hungry. I'm a growing boy.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi huffs laughter. “Growing to be a pain in the butt.”

“I resent that! Now sit down and let’s eat!” Your brother grins as he hands out random bags to you and Yoongi to unpack while he grabs condiments out of the fridge and some cutlery from a drawer.

“I don’t want to hear you groaning later when you can’t find the Tums,” you roll your eyes at your brother but he laughs.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says as he points to a bag on the couch. It’s red and has a zipper, resembling a school supply bag but when you take a peek inside you cackle.

“Laugh now, brat, that’s your future,” your brother scoffs.

You look at the contents of the bag again and giggle. It’s stuffed to the brim with over-the-counter medication, most of them for your brother’s tummy troubles; Imodium, Tums, Pepto, and Gas-x.

“Yoon,” you call as you set the pouch back down on the couch after zipping it back up. “I recommend you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Hey!” Your brother exclaims. “I’m not that bad.”

You and Yoongi share a look before you turn to your affronted brother. “You are that bad.”

Cursing, your brother ignores the two of you as he takes a bite of his taco, drowning it in lime juice and hot sauce.

He grumbles under his breath for most of the meal while you and Yoongi exchange glances.

Thirty minutes later, the three of you are piling onto the couch. You’ve got one end and Yoongi has the other. Your brother settles on the recliner as he watches the movie he picked out. His hand has been rubbing his stomach for a few moments and his bag of goodies (as he calls it) lays open at his side.

“I bet the little sister did it,” he says as he rocks in the recliner before fishing a Tums out of his bag.

“Dude,” Yoongi curses. “It just started.”

“It’s not like it’s a crime,” you shrug. You’ve already seen the movie before but your brother was intrigued and nothing else sounded like a good watch while in a food coma. Besides, you did enjoy the film anyway.

“If I fall asleep, let me know if I’m right,” he yawns as he rubs his stomach one more time.

It’s not long until he’s snoring in the chair, drowning out the movie, and leaving you and Yoongi to secretly hold hands under a couch cushion.

“He’s down for the count,” Yoongi whispers as he shuts and locks your door after getting your brother up to bed.

“Are you sure?” You ask, panicked.

Yoongi nods. “He took some melatonin and knocked out.”

You hush Yoongi, pressing your finger to his lips. You wait a moment, ignoring the heat of his lips on your skin. You’re startled when your brother’s snore rattles the home.

“Told ya,” Yoongi chuckles. You move your finger off his lips, but Yoongi wraps his hand around your wrist to plant a kiss on the sensitive skin. You watch him with a heated gaze, licking your lips when his eyes lock on yours.

It’s not long until the both of you are over each other, kissing urgently on your way to your bed. Yoongi climbs on you as your hands grip his shirt, nearly tearing it off his body in your haste.

Chuckling, Yoongi removes his shirt and tosses it on the floor. You lie beneath him, your hands roaming across his broad chest, pulling him close to kiss him again.

A growl escapes him. He ignores the throb of his cock when he realizes you’re wearing one of the shirts you stole from him.

“Baby,” he rasps. His low voice sounds grave as he curses, grabbing your thighs in his hands and tugging you toward him.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, immediately covering your mouth with your hand.

Both of you freeze, hearts thudding obscenely loudly as you wait for the tell-tale snore that comes a moment later.

Yoongi sighs in relief as he grips your panties and rips them down your thighs. He pockets them before you can protest. He bunches your shirt and has you bite down on it.

“Not a sound, baby. We can’t get caught,” he says as you nod, already drooling on the shirt.

Smirking, Yoongi palms his cock as he spreads your legs with his other hand.

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Show me how you pleasure yourself when you think of me,” he instructs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

You bite back a moan, shyly spreading your legs as he continues to palm his cock over his shorts. His chains shine in the light of your bedroom, and you wonder what they’d feel like dragging across your heated skin as he hovers above you, filling you full of his cock.

“Yoongi,” you breathe as your eyes meet his, and your hand moves from your breast down to the apex of your thighs. Yoongi follows the movement, cursing when your fingers land on your clit.

You’re slow with your movements, gently rubbing your clit in circles. Pleasure courses through you. You become aware of how wet you are when you move your hand lower.

Yoongi licks his lips as he watches you, nearly growling when you spread your fingers and your arousal coats them both generously.

Without blinking, Yoongi strips until he’s bare. His tongue peeks from between his lips as he wraps his hand around his length. He’s slow with his strokes, eyes hooded and focused on your wet cunt.

Cursing, Yoongi feels his heart flutter when his name tumbles from your lips. Your head lolls back as you arch, your fingers sliding in and out of you faster and faster. Your legs shake, gasps spilling from your lips as you look up to see Yoongi jerking off to you.

“Is this how you touched yourself while thinking of me?” He asks with a lustful look that sends tingles down your spine.

“Only thought of you,” you whisper. “Thought of your cock filling me up, making me cum, making me cream.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi groans deeply as he moves forward, his hand grabbing the nape of your neck as he pulls you into a kiss that makes your whole body tingle with pleasure.

Soon, his fingers replace yours. His thumb rubs your clit as his lips smother your moans. Your hands wrap around his dick, moaning as you stroke him with your wet fingers.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that,” he encourages as he rocks his hips.

His lips mark your neck in tiny constellations that you’ll smile about later on when he takes a photo of his hand wrapped around your throat and your hickeys peeking through.

“Focus on me, love.” Yoongi pouts as his thumb adds more pressure to your clit, and you whimper. Your eyes are wide, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your legs tremble.

A smirk appears on Yoongi’s face. “That’s it, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You,” you answer in a gasp. “Yoongi!”

Yoongi kisses you, silencing you as you cum on his delicious fingers. You moan as his tongue meets yours, your fingers threaded in his hair as you soak the sheets beneath you.

Slowly, Yoongi removes his fingers, chuckling when you groan.

“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to fuck me.” You giggle, catching him off guard.

He puckers his lips in surprise, cheeks pink as he brings his fingers to his lips to suck clean.

“Think you can handle it, princess?” Yoongi goads.

You nod. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

Yoongi curses, carding his fingers through his hair as he ignores the twitch of his cock. You notice, grinning as you wrap your hand around him once more. You move until Yoongi settles between your legs, his cock head pressed to your clit as you grind against him.

“Shit, babe. If you keep doing that, I might just cum,” Yoongi admits ruefully.

You smile devilishly as you continue, moving forward to kiss Yoongi, biting his bottom lip and tugging at it just to make him growl.

He’s at your mercy, moaning softly as you move faster. Fuck, you’re soaking his cock, drenching every inch, and the head keeps rubbing on your clit. He’d love nothing more than to have you wrapped around him, screaming his name for the whole block to hear, but he can’t. Not yet at least.

For now, he’ll have to settle for this. Though you don’t make it easy on him as you moan his name and sink your teeth into his shoulder to muffle another scream of his name as your thighs quiver and you cum with his head between your lips. Yoongi chuckles, licking his lips as he wraps his hand over yours on his dick. His pace is faster as he looks at your wet cunt, biting back an earth-shattering moan of your name as he cums all over your pussy and clit.

The warmth spreads along your skin as you fall back onto the pillows with a goofy grin. Yoongi smiles, kissing your lips quickly before he kisses down your body.

He paused at your tit, taking the hard nipple into his mouth, teeth gently tugging it before releasing it and moving to the other. Your hand grips his hair, cursing when the drag of his chains leaves goosebumps in their wake as he kisses further down your body until he’s grabbing your thighs in each of his gorgeous hands.

With ease, Yoongi places your legs over his broad shoulders as he settles between your thighs. His mouth waters at the sight of your pussy, arousal, and his cum mixed on your mound.

Teasingly, he licks your clit first. Slowly circling it just to watch you twitch as your hand covers your mouth to keep quiet. Yoongi smirks to himself as he repeats the action, muffling his moan in your inner thigh as he gets the first taste of your mixed pleasure.

Nothing could ever taste as wonderful.

Yoongi’s a menace with his tongue, more so than you could have ever imagined. Your fantasies are nothing but weak interpretations of reality. His tongue licks every bit of you, cleaning up your cum and his as if his life depends on it.

It doesn’t take him long to get you to cum one more time.

“Come on, princess,” he encourages with a sweet coo. “Just one more for me, darling. You can do it, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe as your eyes flutter shut, your lashes kissing your cheeks.

“Mm,” Yoongi hums. “Maybe next time it’ll be my cock instead of my tongue and fingers.”

You whine, begging him to fuck you as his fingers curl inside you, slowly pumping in and out as his lips wrap around your clit.

“Please,” you beg. “I want your cock. Need it.”

Yoongi laughs, smiling as he swirls his tongue around your clit one more time.

“So needy. I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. Spread you open and have you wrapped around me. Stuff you full of my cock until you can’t help but scream my name,” Yoongi states as you lose yourself in your orgasm, muffling your moans with your hand.

Yoongi curses, licking his lips as he eats you out through your pleasure. He only slows when you tug his hair twice.

A soft kiss is pressed to your temple as he lies beside you. You’re worn out, and a little sleepy. You don’t want him to leave, but you know your brother would punch him or worse if he found Yoongi in your bedroom or even suspected it.

You’re honestly surprised you can still hear him snoring upstairs. Unaware of all that’s taken place just a floor below.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” you whisper as you feel him pull the covers over the two of you.

“I know, baby.” Yoongi sighs. “I’ll stay as long as I can. It won’t always be like this.”

“Promise?” You ask softly.

“I promise,” he assures you with a kiss to your lips.

Yoongi holds you until he’s sure you’re asleep. He wonders what it would be like to stay in bed with you all night. To wake up to your beautiful smile each day.

The ache that follows keeps him awake until he’s sneaking out of your bedroom door, fully clothed.

When he’s on the couch in the living room, his thoughts cloud his mind preventing him from sleeping.

He should just tell your brother. After all, you were all adults and he knew he wanted to pursue this. He hadn’t been with anyone since you and he didn’t want to be with anyone else. Of that he was sure.

What if he lost you and his best friend, though? Would he be able to move on?

Yoongi sighs heavily as he closes his eyes and throws his arms over them. It looks like another sleepless night for him.

What a shock.

The next morning is busy.

Your parents are back home for breakfast. Your mother and father make food for everyone before heading to your brother’s apartment to clean it despite your brother’s protests.

“It’s clean to the landlord’s standards, not mine,” your mother states as she heads out the door with her cleaning supplies and your father behind her.

Yoongi chuckles as he leans against the counter. “She did the same thing to my place with my mom.”

“I don’t know why I tried talking her out of it. Oh, well.” Your brother shakes his head as he gets a phone call from the movers.

Yoongi, your father, and your brother have spent most of the morning moving your brother’s boxes to the garage. Anything he deemed fragile was piled up in his car.

Since your brother mostly lived abroad, and he was getting new furniture with Steph, he wasn’t taking too much with him. Your job was to unpack with Steph, and Yoongi’s was to help your brother unload his car and make sure your mother didn’t go overboard in her cleaning.

Your brother should be moved in by the end of the night, which meant there was no real reason for Yoongi to hang out at your place without an excuse. Yoongi had texted you assurances very early in the morning and it’s not like your brother wouldn’t laze around at your parents’ place like before, just less so.

However, that meant his place would be off-limits as well if your brother showed up unexpectedly. It didn’t matter, Yoongi would figure it out.

He promised.

Hours later, you’re finishing up at your brother’s place. Most of his items are unpacked with his help and Steph’s. Your mom has finished cleaning to her satisfaction and headed out with your father.

Your brother bought you all lunch, and now that you were done, there was nothing else to do but leave.

“I’ll take her home,” Yoongi offers. “I have some errands to run anyway.”

“You sure?” your brother asks as he throws the trash into the trashcan.

“Yeah, gotta get a few things at the store,” Yoongi shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. You pull your phone out, asking Jimin to cover for you for a few hours in case your parents or brother ask.

[Jimin-bee]: whatcha gonna do?

[you]: talk

[Jimin-bee]: TALK ha! Let me know when you’re done and use condoms

You don’t reply.

“That’s fine,” you fake a yawn. “I’m tired anyway. You enjoy your first night here.”

Your brother nods, smiling as he pulls you into a hug. “Come over whenever.”

“Sure,” you nod.

“But call first,” your brother laughs before he walks you to the door with Yoongi. You wave at Steph as you leave with Yoongi in tow. The both of you walk down the hall toward the stairs, waiting for the door to shut before Yoongi pulls you into the stairwell.

“Fuck,” you moan when your back meets the wall. Yoongi captures your lips with his. Yoongi’s hand rests on the wall right beside your head as he kisses you deeply. Your hands immediately grab fistfuls of his shirt as you kiss him back, moaning when his hips press against yours.

“You’re already hard,” you giggle as he kisses down your jaw to your neck.

“I like kissing you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Yoongi,” you moan as he sucks on your neck, his hand going to your hip to pull you toward him. You melt under his touch, only remembering where you are when the door slams from the next floor and footsteps echo as they grow closer.

The both of you pull apart, adjusting your hair as you take Yoongi’s hand in yours and head up the stairs. His place was on the third floor, far, far away from your brother on the first floor.

You don’t make eye contact with the man who passes by you on the stairs. Yoongi smiles to himself, hiding it with his hair before he goes stoic and looks up.

“Good evening,” he says simply as you continue heading up the stairs.

“Evening,” the man responds as he takes the stairs down.

It only takes a few more minutes before you’re in Yoongi’s apartment, pressed to the door as you kick your shoes off.

Yoongi grins as he takes his shirt off while you tug your top off. You’ve wanted him since you saw him this morning. It was hard to watch him lifting heavy boxes with his veins looking so prominent. The way he shook his long hair out of his eyes or when his hands pushed it back. Memories of last night hit you hard when you looked at his hands, remembering what his fingers felt like inside you.

Every time he laughed, your heart fluttered, wishing more than anything you could reach for him and hold him. Just touch him without your brother or parents having a problem with you two. You doubt your parents would have anything negative to say if you and him started dating but your brother’s discontent and possible fury kept you from exposing the relationship at the moment. It wouldn’t be like this forever, though. You had hoped your brother could understand, he was older now, more mature, right?

“What are you thinking, baby?” Yoongi asks softly as he cups your face. His thumb strokes your cheek as he locks eyes with you. You lean into his touch.

“Just want everyone to know about us,” you admit in a whisper, apprehensive of his answer.

“I want that too,” you perk up at his response, eyes shining with hope.

“You do?”

“Of course, baby. It won’t always be like this. Soon, we’ll let them all know that you’re my girl. Just a little longer,” he assures you as you lean in to kiss him, fingers laced in his long locks as he leads you to his bedroom after locking his front door.

The next morning, you stir before you wake. Sleep clings to your eyes as you rub them, groaning when an alarm goes off.

“Ugh,” you grunt as you sit up, finally opening your eyes as Yoongi shuts the alarm off.

“Sorry, babe. I have to work today,” he says as he kisses your cheek before getting out of bed. You grumble as you fall back onto the pillows. The shirt you took from Yoongi bunched at your hips, thighs smeared with your arousal from last night as he ate you out again and made you cum around his fingers twice.

“Don’t go,” you grumble as you roll over to face him. He chuckles as he looks over at you.

“I have to, baby. I asked for yesterday off because I knew your brother would want to hang out after graduation. Time to go make money.” Yoongi grabs his things and heads for the shower. “Wanna join?”

You kick the covers off you as you follow him into the bathroom, giggling when he opens the bathroom cabinet to show you toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, skincare, and lotions, all in bulk.

“I like to shop at the bulk stores,” he says shyly. “Easier to keep everything stocked when you work from home.”

“Cutie,” you smile, kissing his cheek before turning the shower on and stepping in. Yoongi follows you, kissing you when you’re both under the shower spray. You know this could easily turn to more if your hands wander too low and Yoongi has to clock in.

You take your time, feeling each other and sharing kisses until Yoongi gets out to grab your towel and wrap you in it before he wraps one around his waist.

The two of you do your morning routines, and you smile to yourself when your toothbrush sits beside his own.

Soon, you’re both dressed. Yoongi makes a pot of coffee, making it just the way you like it when a knock comes on the door.

Your eyes widen as Yoongi heads to the door, to look through the peephole.

“It’s your brother. Fuck,” he hisses.

You get out of your seat, run to the bedroom, and hide in the closet.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re out of sight before he opens the door to let your brother in. He’s thankful he only had enough time to make your coffee before he came knocking. He’s not sure how he would have explained two mugs.

“Hey,” Yoongi greets him, as your brother lets himself in. “What’s up?”

“I texted you but you didn’t answer,” your brother explains as Yoongi shuts the door.

“Sorry, I was in the shower. Just got out. I work soon,” Yoongi shrugs as he refrains from looking at the bedroom. He’s sure he’s thrown all the clothing in the hamper. He was gonna toss your clothing and his from yesterday into his washer while he worked, so you’d have something clean to go home in.

By the time he took you home, your parents should still be working, so nobody would know if you had spent the night elsewhere.

At the moment, you were dressed in one of his shirts and sweatpants. You were going to lounge around his home until his workday ended and you had to go home for the night.

“Do you want to go get breakfast?” your brother asks Yoongi as he looks around the apartment.

“Sorry, I can’t,” Yoongi says. “I’ve got to clock in a little earlier today.”

“Boo,” your brother laughs.

You wish him away, wanting to leave the closet as soon as possible. Your heart is racing in your chest, and you almost wonder if they can hear it out in the living room.

“Oh, well,” your brother shrugs. “Maybe next time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi agrees as your brother walks toward the front door. He almost smiles in relief when they get to the door but your brother stops and turns on his heel at the last second.

Yoongi is confused as your brother heads for his bedroom.

“Dude!” Yoongi calls after him, palms sweating as he follows him as fast as he can, trying to keep from looking suspicious.

“My mom said our letterman jackets were in your closet. I’ll just check real quick,” Your brother explains as he beelines it for the closet. “Steph doesn’t believe I was on varsity.”

“I’ll check,” Yoongi says as he scans the room but doesn’t see you. He knows you ran into it and not the half bath in the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in. I just remembered. I figured since I was already here,” Your brother looks sheepish, and apologetic as he opens the closet doors anyway and Yoongi can feel sweat beading on his brow.

Fuck.

You were fucked.

Your brother pushes a few jackets out of the way in his search, stepping in a little further as you pull your feet toward you and cover your mouth and nose to silence your breathing as much as possible.

Your brother steps on your toe, and you bite back a scream as he moves his foot and moves more clothing out of the way.

“Damn, how many clothes do you need? You have three of these shirts in three colors,” your brother laughs as he pushes them out of the way and turns to look at Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugs.

There’s no way he won’t find you, and all he can do is take a step back to give you room to crawl out when you’re discovered.

“Ah, I see it,” your brother grins as he pushes some more thick coats out of the way and grabs his jacket. In his haste, he drops the hanger onto the floor.

When he bends down to pick it up, he makes eye contact with you. Your hand is still over your mouth, eyes wide as you look at him.

Your brother says your full name as he steps back and you crawl out of the closet before getting to your feet.

You wave weakly. “Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing here? Why aren’t you home? Why are you wearing his clothes?” Your brother’s mind is whirling. The last thing he expected was to see you here!

“Um, you see,” you bite your lip, unsure of what to say.

“She spent the night,” Yoongi states.

Your brother whirls around to look at Yoongi, brows furrowed.

“Why?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend now,” you say sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

“I need to sit,” your brother pulls Yoongi’s desk chair toward him and sits. His jacket falls to his feet as he inhales and exhales a few times.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with my little sister, dude?” Your brother asks his best friend. He figured you two liked each other, but what was this spending the night shit? So soon? Without even telling him first? The fuck?

“We just started dating Sunday,” Yoongi explains as he sits on the edge of his bed, now that he’s twenty percent sure your brother wasn’t gonna punch him in the face. You go sit beside Yoongi, lacing your fingers together. Your brother doesn’t miss the gesture.

“And you didn’t think to tell me first?” your brother can’t help but sound hurt. He thought the three of you were better than to keep secrets.

“We wanted to, but look at how you’re reacting,” you sigh, squeezing Yoongi’s hand. You can barely focus with your heart thundering in your ears. Your hands grow clammy in Yoongi’s hold but he says nothing as your brother shakes his head.

Here it comes.

“I’m upset!” Your brother exclaims. “You kept this from me!”

“Because you told me last time that you were glad I didn’t like Yoongi anymore! I couldn’t lose you, so I didn’t see Yoongi again until you invited him to my graduation.”

Your brother places his palms over his face, his elbows resting on his knees as he exhales. He had said that. However, that was three years ago before he knew much about love. He always wondered why you never came around when Yoongi was there, but now everything was falling into place.

If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t upset over you guys. He knew it was inevitable after your years of crushing on Yoongi, and Yoongi didn’t help himself in recent years. Maybe he would have peeped it earlier if he had noted the way Yoongi looked at photos of you. There was always something more in his gaze.

“You still should have told me,” your brother looks up, making eye contact with Yoongi and then you. “Either of you.”

“We’re sorry,” Yoongi apologizes. “We should have but we’re still taking this slow. We don’t want to make any mistakes. I can’t lose her for another three years again. The last time hurt too much,” Yoongi looks at you before looking at your brother. “It hurt us both.”

“The last time?” your brother is puzzled. He rises from his chair with his jacket in his hands. “What last time? You mean this has happened before?”

“Um, we kissed at my last graduation,” you smile wryly. “Surprise?”

Your brother runs his hand over his face. Man, all he wanted was breakfast and now he had all this information he hadn’t asked for.

“You know what, don’t tell me anymore. You guys have my blessing or whatever, not that you need it. This is fine, just be careful. Don’t hide shit from me anymore,” Your brother shakes his head as he heads for the door.

You grin, hugging Yoongi before you walk your brother to the front door.

You throw your arms around your brother and hug him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, brat. No more secrets,” he reminds you as he releases you and shakes his head one last time. He steps out of the apartment and pauses, “You both owe me breakfast.”

“Will do,” Yoongi grins as he drapes his arm over your shoulder to pull you close. Your brother smiles, seeing the two of you together wasn’t as weird as he thought it would be.

It was your happiness that mattered most of all, right?

Three weeks later, you’re back in Yoongi’s apartment after a night out on the town. You had a wonderful dinner, followed by a romantic walk by the river.

You were eager to get back to his place, kissing him at every chance you got. He had his hand on your thigh the whole drive home, smirking when he’d catch you tracing the veins and his rings.

His hair was slicked back, his chains resting on his chest and his suit fit him perfectly. He had a certain confidence that had you wanting to lick him up and down in public. Yoongi wasn’t able to keep his eyes (or hands) off you in the black dress you wore. Your back was exposed with a low dip that ended right above your lower back. He loved feeling your skin beneath his palm as you walked until you were leading him to the car.

“Take me home,” you had whispered in his ear, biting the lobe before settling in the front seat. That alone was enough to get him to half-mast.

The past few weeks, you’ve taken it slow. You were kissing and making out almost every day. Sometimes he’d fuck you with his fingers or his tongue, and sometimes you’d suck him off but you never went all the way.

You wanted to, tonight.

Yoongi’s hands grip your hips as your back meets the front door of his apartment. You giggle as his lips trail kisses down your jaw to your neck as your hands palm his chest on their trek to his pants pockets to fish out his keys.

“Fuck,” he curses, his breath fanning across your neck as you cup his erection.

“Oops,” you giggle as you squeeze him one more time before taking the keys out of his pocket. You hand them to him as he tries his best to get the key in the lock, but misses twice as he refuses to stop marking your neck.

“The faster you get me inside, the faster you can feel me wrapped around your cock,” you whisper as his teeth nip your skin.

“Fuck, okay. Yeah,” Yoongi breathes as he cards a hand through his hair. His thoughts are running rampant as he gets the key in the lock and turns it. He pushes the door open, grabbing your hand as he pulls you in.

You smile, kissing him as he shuts the door and presses you against it. One of his hands cups your face, and the other locks the door as he deepens the kiss.

You kick your shoes off, grunting as you trip over them. Yoongi chuckles, easily stepping out of his shoes.

A shirt here, pants there, your dress in a pool of fabric outside Yoongi’s bedroom door, and soon you’re in nothing but panties on his bed as he climbs on top of you between your legs.

Yoongi cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. His dark eyes meet yours as he presses his lips to yours.

Warmth pools in your belly as your thighs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Yoongi moans softly as his cock presses to your panty-clad cunt. He breathes your name, trailing kisses to your neck as your fingers thread in his inky locks.

“Yoongi,” his name rolls off your tongue in a tone so sweet, he can almost taste it when you moan again.

“That’s it, love. Let me hear those moans, don’t be shy,” He encourages as he moves downward and your hands move to his shoulders for a moment before he’s kissing one breast and groping the other.

Yoongi takes his time with you, kissing and caressing every inch of your body. His lips mark your skin, his teeth nibble gently just to listen to you sigh. Your hands grip the sheets, tugging on them as he teases you.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, nearly melting into a puddle when his tongue swirls around your nipple, sucking it just to make you gasp as his large hand grips your thigh.

“Yes?” he asks with a lopsided grin. “What is it, baby?”

“Please, stop teasing me,” you plead, biting your bottom lip as his lips kiss down your body until he’s settled between your thighs.

Yoongi smirks, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your mound. “Who’s teasing?”

“Yoongi!”

Chuckling, Yoongi kisses your thigh as his fingertip circles your clit once.

“Yoongi!”

He laughs, his gummy smile making you giggle. “I’ll stop teasing.”

“You promise?” you ask with a raised brow, but Yoongi doesn’t answer. Instead, he dips between your parted legs, his tongue licking your wet folds as your eyes flutter shut and you curse at the ceiling.

Yoongi doesn’t waste a second as he grabs handfuls of your thighs and pulls you closer. You squeal in surprise and laugh when he kisses your inner thigh.

“Cutie,” he murmurs before he’s trailing kisses to the apex of your thighs. He’s slow and teasing with his tongue, listening closely to every gasp and moan that escapes your pretty lips.

It’s not too long before your hand is gripping his thick hair, begging for more as he pushes two of his fingers inside you, curling them until you’re nearly screaming his name.

“So fucking wet for me, princess,” Yoongi curses, licking his lips before going back to the task at hand. You curse, back arching and thighs trembling as blissful pleasure courses through your veins.

“Yoongi! Baby!” You exclaim, thighs shaking as your breath grows ragged and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Fuck,” Yoongi licks his lips as he watches you fall apart, pussy clenching around his fingers as his thumb rubs your clit and you cry out one last time before lying boneless on the bed.

“Come here,” you demand when you catch your breath.

Grinning, Yoongi kisses your clit one last time before moving beside you.

You kiss him immediately, your hands cupping his face as he pulls you on top of him. Your legs go on either side of his hips as your wet cunt sits on his cock.

“We should,” Yoongi kisses you. “Get a condom.”

You nod, kissing him again, your tongue meeting his as he reaches blindly on his nightstand. He chuckles, moving you off him for a moment to open the drawer, take a handful of condoms out, and set them on the nightstand within reach.

“How many do you think we’ll need?” You ask with wide eyes.

Yoongi throws his head back and laughs, kissing your cheek when he calms down.

“Hopefully all of them,” he smiles cheekily. “But let’s start with one for tonight.”

“Yes,” you agree as you kiss him again as Yoongi rips open the packet, tossing the wrapper on the nightstand.

With ease, Yoongi is ready in seconds as he lies you down on the bed. He kisses you gently, his thumb stroking your cheek as he pulls away.

His dark eyes lock on yours, and your heart flutters.

“We can stop whenever you want to, princess. Just say the word, okay?”

“Yes,” you nod, kissing him deeply as he lines himself up at your entrance.

You gasp when he pushes in, nails digging into his forearms as his face gets buried in your neck.

“Fuck,” he curses as he gives you a moment to adjust. He kisses your neck, shoulders,, and cheek until you give him the go ahead to go further.

Before too long, pleasure courses through you as you moan Yoongi’s name.

“Fuck, love,” Yoongi nearly loses himself. You’re so warm and wet, tightening around him as he fucks into you again and again. He’s overcome with emotion as his eyes lock with yours. He never thought he’d get a second chance with you, not after he left so abruptly and there was no contact between you. He knows it’s probably too early in the relationship to say I love you, but he feels it in every fiber of his being.

With every kiss, with every touch, with every sigh, he falls deeper and deeper in love and there’s nothing he would ever do to stop it.

You breathe his name, kissing him as he goes deeper and you fall, fall, fall into pleasure.

This is better than you could have ever imagined. Better than all your daydreams and anything your imagination had conjured throughout the years. Love blooms in your chest as you grip his shoulder tights, your hands sliding down until your fingers lace with his. Pleasure courses through your veins, nearly consuming you.

“So big and thick,” you whisper, making Yoongi chuckle as he sucks on your neck.

“I said that aloud didn’t I?” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks from embarrassment.

“You did,” Yoongi giggles as he kisses you again, his hips rocking into yours as your legs cling to his hips to pull him closer.

“This is perfect,” you whisper as your body tingles and Yoongi’s fingers rub your clit. You shake, moaning as you meet each of Yoongi’s thrusts with your hips.

“Yoongi!��

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me,” Yoongi instructs, kissing you as you tighten around him and lose yourself to the pleasure.

Yoongi follows soon after, moaning your name in between pants before he pulls out of you. He discards the used condom quickly before lying at your side.

“You okay?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his arms. You smile brightly, nodding.

“Perfect,” you respond as you kiss his bare chest. “Can we do it again?”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head incredulously.

“As much as you’d like, princess.”

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader insert #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #yoongi angst and smut #yoongi angst with a happy ending #boyfriend!yoongi #brother's best friend au #fic: tlc #fic: tongue like cany

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allbark-no-bite · 8 months ago

Text

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

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You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction.

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

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