first love | myg
synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn't talk much, you've always found his presence comforting, and it didn't surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn't fall in love.
But wouldn't you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it's addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing.
→ part of the virtue, vice, and everything nice collab.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(
author's note: i'm fully aware that this song is about a piano but i don't want to write angsty musician yoongi since it hits a little close to home, so i put my own spin into it. thank you to the lovely @ddaechwita for the banner! this is part of @missgeniality's wings collab so please make sure to check out the rest of the authors! ♥
i wanna give a shoutout to one of my favourite authors out there! @yoonia happy heckin birthday, my love!! i tried to channel your energy when i was writing this. truly, your fics give me a lot of inspiration!!!
m.list | ao3
You first entered Helion Game Company together as interns, assigned to comb through thousands of customer complaints while sitting across from each other.
Yoongi didn’t speak much; opting to tilt his head every time you greeted him good morning, but the way his eyes twinkled as he listened to you talk about your weekend caused a confusing array of feelings to emerge quietly in your heart. And the feelings continue to blossom whenever you return to find the occasional tangerine next to your computer after you’ve had a long day.
To you, Yoongi would always be that seemingly aloof coworker with a tight rein on his emotions, but one whose voice can command the entire room with just the simplest of words. It wasn’t surprising that he rose quickly through the ranks and you watched with quiet pride when he was inducted into the Senior Sound Engineers circle for the next version launch of the company’s hit mobile game.
Though it took you a few more months, you soon joined him in the ranks to work alongside the project with a team of Creative Directors. Introducing yourself to a room of ambitious souls was a nerve-wracking experience, but it was only made bearable when you caught Yoongi’s eyes in the back of the room as his warm presence continued to provide a quiet flow of support that strengthened your nerve. Ever since that day, you held his gaze steadfastly whenever you presented a new concept to the team, and if you’re lucky, you’d find a tangerine sitting prettily on your desk the next morning.
With the highly anticipated one-year anniversary launch coming up soon, you’re swamped with endless meetings to finalize the details that would be included, so much so that you’d find yourself reminiscing about the early days. Though combing through a never-ending list of demands from players was tedious, you relished in the quiet that surrounded you and Yoongi, the two of you lost in your own worlds with only the clicks of keyboards accompanying your routines.
As time and busyness enveloped your lives, they robbed you from seeing one another and it didn’t surprise you to learn that the sprouting feelings you once had for the ebony-haired man were eventually absorbed by the cacophony of noise around you. However, not all is lost, because you’ve gathered the scattered petals on the ground and chose to call it a different name: friendship.
And though it felt like months since you last talked or even been in the same room with each other, you couldn’t help but smile at the rare moments when you’re greeted in the morning with the comforting scent from the small, citrus fruit.
The day started out rather pleasant, the stifling summer air made way for a gentle breeze, cooling down the normal heatwave that lurks in the alleys of the city. You hadn’t even slept that terribly, even waking up before your alarm clock to enjoy the morning air as you sipped coffee from your favourite mug. As you smiled at the chirping birds in a nearby tree, you just can’t shake the feeling that today was going to be great.
Or so you thought.
As soon as you arrive at the office, your lifted spirits deflate as your assistant frantically calls your name in near tears.
“Dowon leaked the character concept,” she informs you in a high-pitch shriek as you shouldered your way through a sea of panicking bodies. “Namjoon wants to see you.”
From what you can gather in the few minutes you had with your assistant as you turned around to walk in the other direction towards Namjoon’s office, the newest artist in your team, Dowon, had posted a selfie of himself on Twitter that contained the early sketches of the not-yet-released Yuna in the background. He hadn’t realized his mistake until he checked his ever-buzzing phone, and upon looking at the encroaching thousands of retweets and likes, his panic was evident in his pallor. Although he deleted the tweet immediately after his discovery, the news had already spread like wildfire – with users reposting the tweets on multiple platforms outside of just Twitter.
When you enter Namjoon’s office, his back is turned towards you. He’s talking to someone on the phone in harsh whispers, though your deafening heart rate makes it hard for you to piece together the words.
“G-Good morning,” comes a timid voice from your side.
You blink in surprise at Dowon’s trembling figure. Of course, he’d be here, but your mind had been so preoccupied with the disaster that you hadn’t noticed his presence. With his shoulders raised to the skies, he sinks into himself, unable to meet your gaze. You’re suddenly parched, throat constricting around your reply, unable to push the words out, so you offered him a half-hearted smile instead.
Your attention is stolen when Namjoon clears his throat. The blue tie on his neck is slightly loose, and the way he sighs as he slumps on his dark leather chair causes a stone to drop in your stomach. When Namjoon regards you with his steel gaze, his mouth is pulled into a grim line.
“I assume you’ve been informed about what happened?”
Dowon squeaks from beside you and you steal a quick glance at the pitiful man, your heart clenching at the unshed tears in his eyes. He isn’t the best artist in your team, but he does work the hardest. If Namjoon decides to terminate his contract, it will be hard for you to hire another artist so late into the development.
You nod. “Minju told me what happened on our walk to your office, yes.”
Namjoon’s face is unreadable, a stone mask that doesn’t betray what he’s thinking. The only indication that this situation may be worse than what you’d imagine is the way Namjoon’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek, a rare expression you’ve only seen a handful of times in your employment.
You’re unable to breathe with the thick, palpable tension in the air. Namjoon studies both your figures in the silence, and you wonder if he’s quietly enjoying this.
“Dowon,” he says calmly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m—I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again,” Dowon stammers. He bows as he balls his slacks into his fists.
Namjoon nods and returns his attention to you. “Tell me, how’s his performance as of late?”
You feel a prickling sensation as Dowon’s pleading gaze snaps to you. “His work is consistent.” You maintain the intense eye contact with Namjoon, resolute in defending your employee. “You won’t find another artist like him this late in the game, sir.”
Tension releases your body from its hold when Namjoon shifts his gaze away from you. The breath of relief you let out seems to reassure Dowon, and from the corner of your eye, you can see the way his shoulders begin to relax.
“Dowon, you may go,” Namjoon announces.
You offer a congratulatory smile at the man beside you, one he returns with a deep bow before he scurries out of Namjoon’s office. The unsettling feeling returns to your stomach when the door shuts behind you.
“Unfortunately,” Namjoon mutters, his expression turning grim once more. “I have some bad news for you.”
You can’t stop the hot tears from making their way down your cheeks as you barricade yourself in the copy room. Your team, possibly sensing your ire after you left Namjoon’s office without so much as a hint of a smile, has left you alone to wallow until it was time for them to go, where they quietly slip away without so much as a wave.
“Stupid thing!” you grumble, kicking the wheel of the copier in frustration.
For the past hour or so, you’ve been trying to print the incident report you’ve painstakingly typed out all afternoon. Your meeting with Namjoon has left a nasty mark on your otherwise pristine office life. You can’t blame him, knowing that the decision has been made prior to you stepping foot on the ugly navy carpet of your office, but you can’t help the anger that rises steadily towards the man either.
After Dowon left, having been dismissed by Namjoon, your boss informed you that you’ve been written up for your negligence, which, as you spat out to him that morning, was complete and utter bullshit. Namjoon patiently listened to you rant as you plead your case, but your passionate words didn’t make a dent in his armour.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon murmured as he handed you a yellow slip. “Please have this signed along with the incident report. I expect it on my desk first thing in the morning.”
The beeping from the printer breaks you of your thoughts and you cast your gaze down to the LCD screen flashing red and yellow, signifying yet another paper jam on the side of the printer.
Defeat pulls you down on to the floor, where you bring your knees close to your chest as you bury your face into your hands.
“Hey, are you okay?”
You lift your face to meet Yoongi’s worried gaze. Great.
“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just been a really long day.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, one that Yoongi returns with a sad smile.
He makes his way to your crouched figure before sitting down next to you, both your backs leaning against the printer. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Though you’re touched by his sincerity, a part of you hesitates to tell him what’s wrong, especially since your interactions thus far have been minute due to your busy schedules.
Sensing your reluctance, Yoongi nudges you lightly with his shoulders, a growing smile on his face. “Come on,” he urges. “I’ve heard you talk about your weekend since we were interns. You were never shy about discussing your thoughts before, why are you hiding them from me now?”
With a shuddering sigh, you smile gratefully at Yoongi before highlighting the unfortunate moments from this morning. True to his nature, Yoongi listens closely as you speak, chiming in once or twice with a few hums. Though as you begin to retell what happened in Namjoon’s office, Yoongi tenses beside you, his once worried expression morphing into fury.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi slams his fist to the copier behind you. “That’s bullshit!”
“Yeah? Well, tell that to Namjoon,” you snicker. In all the time you’ve known Yoongi, you have never seen him so upset. “It’s fine, really. I’ve never been written up before, so it’s not the end of the world. Plus, Namjoon said that it was out of his hands,” you sigh. “I just hope it doesn’t look bad on my performance review.”
Yoongi releases his bottom lip from his teeth, but not after he tortures it to a point where you see little pricks of red peeking through the soft tissue. Your hand moves on its own as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb, tutting at the small injury. When you realize what you’ve done, you snatch your hand away quickly, your cheeks aflame when Yoongi looks at you with wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry, force of habit!” you stammer. “I have cousins and they’re a messy bunch, always wrestling with each other and getting cuts all over.”
God! What was wrong with you? With a silent prayer for the ground to open up, you bury your face into your hands, trying to hide away the embarrassment colouring your face.
With an amused chuckle, Yoongi gingerly removes your palms from your face to force your gaze back to his. “I mean it,” he whispers as he lets go of your hands. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” you utter just as quietly. “Really, I should be thanking you for listening to me; not just about this fiasco, but for all the times I bugged you during our intern days.”
Yoongi tilts his head, his smile faltering slightly. “That’s assuming that you’re a bother.” At your protests, he begins to laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, I like listening to you talk,” he beams. “If I hated your voice, I wouldn’t have listened to you drone on and on about the countless awful blind dates your friends set you up with.”
“Oh my god! Why would you bring that up?” you laugh, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I should probably get on with this,” you pat the printer a few times, “I still have an incident report to print out.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes at the mention of your task. “Leave it until the morning. It’s all formality anyway.”
“I would never have guessed that one of the greatest sound engineers in our company is a troublemaker.”
He chuckles at your teasing grin. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes as he murmurs, with a voice so low that goosebumps appear on your skin, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Your thoughts slow to a crawl as he pins you with his gaze. Was his face always this close to you? Breathing becomes secondary as your heart hammers in its cage. What was he thinking behind those rich irises?
“Yoongi, I…” you begin, but you’re not sure what you wanted to say next.
The spell breaks when his lips curl up into an easygoing smile. “Come on.” Yoongi stands and offers you a hand. “I’ll help you with the printer, only if you promise to get a drink with me.”
Bewildered at his sudden offer, you can only muster a nod as he helps you stand.
“Okay, let’s see what’s going on with this thing…”
You watch Yoongi work on the printer for a few minutes, though really, your mind is drifting further away as the feelings you thought had disappeared seem to resurface back into reality. After opening two separate compartments in the printer, Yoongi’s able to find the source of the jam and removed it, instructing you to press a few buttons on the small LCD screen. Like magic, the flashing red warning sign stops and a little jingle resounds instead before the machine begins to spit out your documents into the tray.
“How did you…” you begin, staring in awe as the printer staples your report together.
“Well, the IT guys were taking a long time to appear this one time and our team really needed to print some reports. Since no one seemed to know what to do, I just rolled up my sleeves and opened it to find the issue,” he explains as he hands you the stack of paper. “Ever since then, every time this printer acts up, my team usually comes to me for help.”
Yoongi flashes an amused smirk in your direction as he wipes his toner-covered hands with a handkerchief. “So, ready for that drink?”
The walk to the trendy bar just a little way outside of your office is filled with a round of 20 questions. It’s strange to see Yoongi in this light, so animated and full of life. He talked about college; how he switched majors from business despite his parents’ disapproval. In return, you talk about your favourite musicians before learning that you listen to similar genres.
When you enter the mostly full bar and squeeze yourselves into the booth, the conversation never ceases, only stopping briefly when a waiter comes to take your order. Not wanting to drink on an empty stomach, you ordered a plate of appetizers – wings and nachos – to accompany your liquor.
“Good choice. They have the best nachos here,” Yoongi comments just as the waiter takes your menu and leaves.
“Oh? Do you come here often?”
“Yeah. They have live music a few times a month and my friend recently got a gig here, so I showed up to support him.” Yoongi points to the dim stage area where a microphone and a singular chair stand.
“That’s sweet of you! Okay, what else don’t I know about you, Yoongi… Do you have a secret identity? Office worker by day, criminal mastermind by night?” you tease.
Yoongi laughs into his hand, shaking his head. “Oh, if I was a criminal mastermind, I wouldn’t be stuck working at an office job. I’d just steal a bunch of money so I can live in peace.”
Just as you begin to ask about his plans for conquering the world, your food and drinks arrive, holding off the conversation for a later time. You’re too busy munching on your nachos and sipping your liquor of choice that it takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi stopped eating.
“What’s up?” you ask.
Yoongi studies you as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re finally yourself again.”
“It helps that I have a friend to talk to,” you beam. “Thanks for taking me out tonight too.”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiles. “Sorry, I got a bit in my head there because I felt like I was pushing you to go when you didn’t want to.”
“Honestly? I’m glad you did. If not, I would’ve been at home alone to just drink myself under. That can’t be healthy.”
“Oh, and drinking in a relatively crowded bar is?” he fires back before bursting into laughter.
“That’s not what I meant!” you protest with a pout, stuffing your face full of nachos.
You continue to eat until only the platter empties. Through the night, the empty glasses beside you increase in quantity as you let yourself go with the flow of conversation and music. Once, Yoongi made you try something called a ‘Blue Moon’, his favourite beer imported from the Midwestern area of the United States that is served with a slice of orange.
“That reminds me, I never thanked you for the tangerines you leave on my desk,” you muse, drinking the last of the beer. The citrusy taste lingers on your tongue even as you switch over to chug a glass full of water.
Yoongi grins as he raises his glass. “Of course. A good job always deserves a reward.”
“Oh, and what kind of reward are you looking for?” You couldn’t help but snort when Yoongi chokes on his drink.
“You’ll pay for this one day,” he pouts as he cleans up his mess with a napkin.
Sure, your day was less than stellar, but after the Yoongi’s presence, you couldn’t help the smile that found its way into your face as you crawled into bed.
The next couple of days after the incident was just as you expected. The office is abuzz with gossip when you enter, with some brave folks asking if what transpired during Namjoon’s office was true. You confirmed what little you could, preferring to keep the details of your write up a secret, away from loose lips.
Though the energy surrounding your team has shifted, some are wary of working with Dowon in the event that another leak, your spirits lift slightly when you spy a familiar round orange fruit on top of your files this morning. Unlike all the other instances however, this one has a note attached to it.
“Drinks are on me tonight.”
And maybe… just maybe, things aren’t so bad after all.
“Fuck!” You slam the empty glass to the table, causing a few patrons to look over in your direction.
“Whoa, settle down there.” Yoongi’s comforting presence has not placated your anger the way it normally would.
Despite the launch happening within less than a month, your team is behind on some of the last-minute touches for the characters, making you work overtime for the past few days now. Speaking of the devil, your phone chimes and you spy the email that one of your employees sent you, asking for approval on a last-minute design change.
You type your confirmation with a low grumble under your breath, upset that even with the weekend within sight, your team is still hard at work.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you mutter as you lock your phone and stash it back in your purse. “I’m sure it’s hellish on your end too and I’m taking this out on you.”
“I guess I should feel honoured?” he snickers, raising his glass to you. “When you were written up, you barely opened up to me and now look at us, drinking away our stress in the same booth every other day.”
You tap the bottom of his beer with your glass before taking a sip, grimacing as the liquor burns its way down your throat. “Well, it beats drinking alone,” you sigh.
Over the past month now, ever since the incident, you and Yoongi have made a point to meet at the bar every now and again, mostly to complain about work.
“Your blood pressure is off the charts, huh?”
“I feel like I’ll probably die before I reach 40 if this is how my team handles every launch,” you grumble, not affected by his joviality.
“Relax, tomorrow’s Friday! And then we have a long weekend ahead of us. Just bear with it for one more day, okay?”
You grumble an unintelligible response as you sip on your drink. Numb from the drinks, you’re not as perceptive as you usually are, completely missing the way he’s currently staring at you. His lips are downturned as he absentmindedly drums his fingers on the side of his beer before he finally pipes up.
“You know… I can help you with that. Your stress, I mean. I know that this was pretty much my idea – to get drunk and forget the stress” – you can’t help but raise your glass and chug as he continues to speak – “but I may have a healthier alternative.”
“Okay, spill. What do you have in mind?”
“I can always make you cum.”
As though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb in your time together, Yoongi continues to drink his beer nonchalantly, while your mind struggles to comprehend what he just said.
“I’m sorry… what? Are you serious?”
“Of course, I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, I heard an orgasm is the best way to get over your stress and I’m pretty confident in my abilities.”
Your brain is unable to form the correct syllables to convey your thoughts.
The fact that Yoongi finds you attractive is a miracle in itself, especially when he walks around charming everyone in the office with his swoopy black hair and easy smile. Maybe your crush on him is slowly rearing its head again after all these years, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to risk changing the relationship you currently have. Being Yoongi’s friend has been easy; he’s a great listener and you’re only scratching the surface behind the quiet exterior he presents.
However, somewhere deep inside, you must’ve wanted to change the dynamic to something more, or else why would you be questioning his proposal so intently?
While you’re busy staring into the amber liquid in your glass, Yoongi reaches out to cover the back of your hand with his, breaking you from the internal struggle in your mind. “Hey, if you’re not into it, don’t worry,” he chuckles, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just offering my services. No strings attached, kind of deal.”
The question stands: why? As you stare into the hand that’s currently enveloping yours, you can’t fathom why someone like Yoongi would give you the time of day. It didn’t seem real – his proposal. But then, your gaze drifts to his face and after spending so much time with him, you know that Yoongi isn’t one to joke around.
“Don’t think about it too hard, okay?” He speaks just as he spies the waiter coming towards you with your check. “Looks like the bar’s going to close pretty soon. So, how about we get out of here and call it a night?”
That night, you toss and turn in your sheets, feeling a sense of emptiness. You can’t help but replay the scene from the bar – specifically Yoongi's nonchalant proposal.
Unable to sleep, you think. And then you think some more. Until your head is swimming with alcohol and something else.
And that’s when you call Yoongi at 3:22 in the morning, slightly surprised that he’s still awake.
"On the topic of what we talked about in the bar tonight…” you begin, biting your bottom lip nervously.
Yoongi groans on the other line. “I’m serious when I said you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re cool. If you’re not into the idea, I get—”
You cut him off before he could ramble further, smirking into the phone. “How confident are you?”
Instead of answering, Yoongi chuckles. “Wear a skirt and you’ll find out tomorrow, hm?”
It isn’t strange for you to be seated next to Yoongi during the manager’s meeting, especially since how closely you have to work with the sound department, but you can’t help but squirm in your seat as you attempt to listen to Namjoon summarizing the development reports he received in preparation for the launch.
Your seat is pushed almost flushed against the table, with the edge digging into your abdomen, to hide Yoongi’s fingers that are currently trailing ambiguous shapes into your skin. Coupled with the fact that he’s currently holding your panties hostage in the pockets of his slacks, every time you feel the cold bite of his metal rings when he travels higher, you clench around nothing while trying not to whine in front of the twenty-something people gathered in the room.
Taking a chance to look around the room, you’re only met with bored faces and yawning mouths, and there’s a subtle groan when Namjoon moves the PowerPoint slides to talk about last season’s numbers. However, whatever brilliant revelation he’s about to impart on you is drowned out by the roaring desire when Yoongi’s fingertips brush against your folds.
He whistles low while staring at the pie chart, and the few chuckles floating from the back of the room assume that he’s talking about the high numbers last season brought in, when in actuality, Yoongi’s pleasantly surprised at how wet you already are; your pussy sucking his fingers in down to the second knuckle.
The breath leaves your lungs when Namjoon raises an eyebrow when his gaze floats over to the two of you.
“Tell me about it. You really knocked it out of the park with the background music for the new area,” he chuckles, nodding his praise to Yoongi.
The corner of Yoongi’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to take over his features. Oh, if only your coworkers knew.
Your poor bottom lip is bruised and swollen from your constant need to swallow down your moans. Sweat slicks all over your arms and back as you sit rigid, your legs pushed apart, and Yoongi’s unhurried fingers traverse your sopping cunt, taking care not to make too much noise in the otherwise quiet meeting room.
“All right, that’s pretty much all I have for you today. Thanks for letting me drone on for an hour,” he winces when he looks at the clock, “…and a half. Enjoy the rest of the day,” Namjoon chuckles as he adjourns the meeting.
You exhale gradually when Yoongi leaves your cunt as the others begin to stand. On one hand, you’re relieved, grateful that you weren’t caught because you were definitely breaking a slew of code violations while you’re getting handsy on the table. On the other, the strong need to orgasm only surges in your veins, wanting nothing more than to have Yoongi fuck you right then and there; consequences be damned.
“Aren’t you getting up?” Yoongi quips, an amused grin on his face.
You glower at his smirk, unable to form a sensible comeback with your heartbeat still steadfast on a thundering rhythm. When you do get out of your chair, the grip you hold on to the back is strong, your legs feeling like jelly after being teased for so long.
“I’m fine,” you grumble as Yoongi extends a hand – the one that was inside of you just mere moments ago.
With your shaky legs, you walk stiffly out of the meeting room, but not after stealing a glance around the remaining crowd to see if anyone noticed anything strange. Everyone, including Namjoon, seemed indifferent.
“And how was that?” Yoongi questions once you’re out of earshot.
“Unbelievably hot. I think I could’ve cum if Namjoon kept on talking,” you admit with a grin.
“Interesting,” he hums. “Do you have any meetings after this?”
Before answering his question, you look through your phone calendar. “Nope, I don’t have anything until 2pm.” That’s a lie – you meant to check in with your artists all day today, but the curiosity got the better of you and you wonder what it was he has planned.
“Come to my office in half an hour? I’ll make sure we’re undisturbed.”
Though he posed it as a question, you know it’s anything but.
Yoongi walks away with a smirk and you have to bring your legs together as you anticipate what he has planned next.
This is nothing like the meeting this morning.
Yoongi has you pressed up against the copier, holding your leg up as his fingers return to their rightful place inside you. The metal bits dig into your shoulders as you shift your hips, allowing him access into your deepest parts.
The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut in time with his thrusts. The sleeves of his dress shirt are seeped with your arousal, yet Yoongi doesn’t care, too focused on your pussy swallowing his fingers whole.
“Look at you,” he breathes, marvelling at the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. “So needy and wet. Keep your voice down, hm? We don’t want the whole office to hear us, do we?”
You inhale sharply before busying yourself with your bottom lip as he slams his hand repeatedly inside, his fingertips stroking the patch of nerves that has your body jerking in his grip. The coil has been building for some time now – your head is already swimming with desire. When his thumb presses circles on your clit, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you come undone.
“S-So close,” you whimper. You’re arching your back as you’re practically sprawled all over the copy machine.
“Just let go, cum all over my hands,” he rasps before dipping lower to graze his teeth along your pulse point. “Cum for me.”
With a strangled moan, your body obeys his command. “Yoongi—fuck.”
While your team is out there, perfecting the project that’s due in a matter of weeks, you’re pulled apart at the seams – the orgasm slamming into you like waves as it cascades down your spine, making you shudder.
“Good girl, so good to me,” Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly into your hair. “So pretty when you cum.”
Your vision is blurry, filled with dancing lights as you attempt to calm your breathing. When Yoongi slips his fingers out of your cunt, you hiss, aching at the sensitivity. He massages your thighs with a hum, paying attention to the leg that was propped up for the entire duration of the… events.
“How’d I do?” he teases as he helps you smooth out the wrinkles from your skirt.
You’re honestly still reeling. Though your heart isn’t traveling a thousand miles an hour, it’s still clocking in the upper hundreds. Yet, your body did feel lighter, your mind also clearer somehow. You must admit, Yoongi orchestrated your body like an expert conductor – as though he’s known you all your life. No one has made you cum that quickly before.
Perhaps you should’ve kept those thoughts to yourself because you can see the way Yoongi seems to glow at your compliment: pride filling his chest along with a confident smirk on his face.
“Now, can I have my panties back, please?” you whisper as you hold out your hand.
Yoongi seemed to think for a moment, his lips turned upwards to the side. At your amusement and horror, he shakes his head. “I think I’ll hold on to these for the rest of the day.”
“Yoongi,” you state flatly, nervousness clawing up your belly, but you can’t deny the thrill either, so you don’t push it.
After he makes sure that no one seems to be paying attention to the copy room, Yoongi helps you sneak away, but not before filling your thoughts with some of his other ideas.
Your day passes like a blur, and you find yourself locking your legs more often as your distracted brain thinks about the events that happen this morning. The idea of Yoongi walking around the office with your lace underwear stuffed in his slacks makes poor company when you’re trying to work.
Too engrossed in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that your assistant had let herself in until she called your name again with a cough.
“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly. “I’m a bit distracted right now.”
Your assistant merely smiled demurely as she hands you a stack of reports you requested. “Here’s the information on the developments we’ve made over the past few months and the breakdown of the new region from the programmers for next year’s launch. We can start meeting with them to talk about what they want the art team to start working on.”
You skim through the details, humming along as your assistant explains the finer points of what is written. “Thank you, Suha. This looks good,” you praise.
Suha bows to you with a proud smile, but instead of leaving, she shifts her weight as she stands. “Actually, I was wondering if I could leave in half an hour?” she requests.
A mischievous idea pops in your head and you have to thread your hands together to avoid immediately texting a certain dark-haired man. “Sure,” you chirp in a voice too high as you fail to hide your excitement. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Yes, Suha. You’ve done a good job. Please feel free to leave now if you’d like.”
Suha claps her hands together and bows. “Thank you!” she calls out before disappearing.
When the door to your office closes shut, you fire out a text and hum, fingers drumming impatiently on the oak table as you wait for Yoongi to arrive.
“Took you long enough,” you smirk when he opens the door.
“Well, unlike some people, I was busy managing my team.”
Poking his head one more time to make sure that no one’s noticed his arrival, Yoongi closes the door firmly behind him, locking it in place.
“Now, why have you brought me into your office, hm?” he asks rhetorically before stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out the familiar garment. “Could it be because of this?”
You laugh quietly with a shake of your head. “Maybe it has something to do with that,” you muse, watching him approach with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Or maybe it’s because I’m just so stressed, you know?”
Yoongi chuckles at your insinuation before leaning forward until your faces are inches apart. “And,” he husks, wetting his lips with his tongue, “How can I help you?”
You hum as you grab him by the collar, crashing your lips against his as an answer to his question. In a spectacular feat, Yoongi’s strong arms lift you up from across the table, pulling you flush against his chest as he sits you down in front of him. Your legs wrap around his torso, causing your skirt to rise to display your bare pussy towards him.
Yoongi’s rough hands dig into the meat of your thighs as he grinds into your core. “Tell me. How did it feel walking around the office with no panties all day, hm?”
“Exhilarating,” you admit in a breathless moan, body aflame with desire as you feel his erection drag against your clit.
“And look at you now, so needy and ready for more. What do you think your team would say if they saw you like this?” Every few words are punctuated with Yoongi’s fingers undoing the buttons to your blouse.
“God, don’t ask me that,” you pout, arching your chest forward. “I don’t want to think about work right now.”
At this, he laughs. “Have you been thinking about work at all during the day? Some might say you’re a little distracted.”
Yoongi cuts off whatever retort you had prepared when he kisses along your jawline and down your neck, nipping the skin just harsh enough to send shivers down your spine, as he continues his mission to free your tits from their cage.
“Pretty,” he mumbles into your skin while palming your breasts.
The combined stimulation is almost too much for you to handle. With his hard cock dragging against your bare cunt and his lips attacking your neck, it doesn’t take long before your skin is riddled with goosebumps as you clamp your lips shut to stop yourself from moaning too loudly.
You find a moment of clarity when Yoongi unbuttons his pants, but just as you reach out to help him, a knock resounds at the door.
The two of you looked at each other in a momentary state of panic as you buttoned up your blouse in haste. Your hands tremble, making it hard for the plastic beads to slip into place, but somehow you managed to not wrinkle your clothes too much, though your heart thunders in your ears when you hear Namjoon, of all people, call your name from the other side of the door.
Making sure you’re both half decent, you unlock the door and yank it open, revealing a startled Namjoon in front of you.
“Uh… hey. Are you okay? Why was your door locked?”
You’re sweating and shaking, almost getting caught by your boss will do that to a person, but somehow you manage a curt nod, and when you lie, your voice actually sounded believable. “Yeah, just got a call about some interesting news from my family. How can I help you?”
Namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before shaking his head. “How about we talk inside?”
“That… um…” Your brain stalls for an excuse but fails. With a dejected heart, thinking that you’re probably going to get fired at this rate, you seal your fate and let your boss in… only to find yourself staring into an empty office.
Where had Yoongi gone?
Namjoon closes the door behind you and makes his way to your desk. You trail after him but before glancing around the room again. You find your answer when you sit down in your chair. Hunched under the desk is Yoongi, who has both his feet tucked under his chin as he grins at you. If Namjoon catches the way your eyes widen in surprise, he says nothing as you sit down.
“I’m just here to see how you’re doing, especially with the launch happening so soon. Is there anything I can help you with?”
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, especially when you accidentally brush against Yoongi’s leg. “I really appreciate the offer, but you really don’t have to check in on me every single time we have a launch. This isn’t my first time, sir.”
Your boss only sighs, sinking into the chair. “I know, truth be told, I wanted to tell you that I’m in the process of getting your write up to disappear from the HR records since it’s really not your fault.”
“Wait… huh?” You blink at Namjoon slowly, genuinely surprised that he’d go through such lengths.
Namjoon only shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. I feel pretty awful about it. So, I pulled some strings and you have been granted your clean record back. That’s all I wanted to say, really. It just didn’t seem right if I brought it up in the hallway,” he grins, showing off his dimpled cheeks as he finished his explanation.
“Thanks, boss,” you mumble gratefully. “It means a lot to me that you’d do that.”
“Don’t mention it.” Namjoon chuckles. “Anyway, what’s with the interesting call? Is your family okay?”
“Yeah,” you squeak, unprepared for him to call out your lie. “They’re okay, I swear. Just some trouble with my cousins…”
Namjoon seems satisfied with your response, nodding after you trailed off. The silence feels suffocating. After a few more heartbeats, Namjoon stands to leave, calling out behind his shoulder as he opens the door, “Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”
The instant the door clicks shut, you jump away from your chair as you help Yoongi stand.
“You all right?” you ask, looking him up and down before deeming that he’s fine.
The easy-going smile returns to his face almost immediately, giving you a full view of his gums. “That could’ve been bad.” Yoongi checks his watch and smiles, pointing at the time. “But, it’s now technically the weekend. So, how about we pack our things and get the hell out of here, huh?”
Yoongi’s apartment is everything like you’d imagine, clean and monochromatic with hints of blue popping here and there. Lining the walls of his bedroom are framed jerseys from a few athletes you recognize, all of them signed and probably costing a good fortune. Besides the decoration, there’s really only one other piece of furniture aside from the bed. Standing on the wall closest to the window is a black floor-to-ceiling bookcase, filled with all sorts of books and a few random photographs of his younger years.
But you have no time to observe fully, not when Yoongi pushes you on the bed with a quiet chuckle, demanding your attention once more as he kisses the length of your throat.
“Now, where were we?” he teases into your skin.
You can only giggle before the sound turns into a groan when his hand digs into the skin of your ass. “I have no idea, but I say, let’s just fuck.”
Yoongi doesn’t care to discard your clothing, choosing to simply ruck your skirt to your waist before his hands fit between your legs.
“Yoongi—ah! Stop teasing!” you whine, pressing your back into the mattress as you writhe under his touch.
“Not until I get a taste of you first.”
With a final peck to your lips, Yoongi drops to the edge of the bed before pulling you towards him until you feel his hot breath against your pussy. He takes his time with eating you out – alternating between licking your folds and sucking on your clit – as you moan and gasp around him. Your arousal seeps out of you in a steady trickle, a puddle forming on his sheets.
“Shit…” you grunt. “Do I taste that good?”
“You do,” he mumbles, the deep vibrations from his voice causing you to arch your back. “God, I can taste you all day.”
True to his word, he drowns himself with your pussy, paying more attention to your clit as you feel the orgasm slowly spreading through your body.
“Yoongi, wait,” you breathe, tugging at his dark locks so he’d look at you.
And what a sight he is to behold.
The bottom half of his face is wet with your arousal as he smirks up at you with pupils so blown out, they’re almost black.
“I wanna cum with your cock inside of me,” you confess, sitting up to pull him into a deep kiss. “Haven’t you teased me enough today?”
Yoongi hums into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body before pushing you back down to the mattress. “I guess that can be arranged,” he chuckles.
With your help, his slacks and underwear are thrown haphazardly on the floor. His cock stands proudly for you to admire; with a leaking reddish tip and a prominent vein running down one side of the shaft. Unable to help yourself, your hand wraps around his length, causing Yoongi to groan as his eyes flutter shut.
“I thought you wanted my cock?” he teases breathlessly.
“Not before I get a taste,” you counter.
Chuckling, he props his pillows along the headboard before settling back, making it easier for you to crawl over and swallow his length. Intent on keeping eye contact, you make short licks around the head before travelling lower, sucking on the tender skin of his balls before moving back up.
“Oh, fuck—” he grunts, hips jumping up when you wrap your lips around the tender head.
While still staring at him through your lashes, you lower yourself until about halfway, the weeping head knocking against the back of your throat making it hard for you to breathe. You hollow your cheekbones as you exit, earning a lovely, guttural groan from the dark-haired man below. Yoongi places a hand on your head as you continue, pumping him in tandem with the movements of your head as you bob up and down his length.
Your remaining hand digs into the skin of his thigh as you take him deeper down your throat, until you manage to sheathe all of him down to the base. Tears spring in your eyes as you whimper around his length, but despite this, you refuse to stop, not when you spy the satisfied smirk on his face that only aids the desire that’s already strong in your veins.
The grip around your scalp tightens as he attempts to pull you off. “I can’t… I’m going to cum if you keep this up.”
His words only add fuel to the fire and you speed up your ministrations despite Yoongi’s attempts to make you stop. Saliva collects into a wet, messy pool on the sheets as you swallow him into your throat. The tears cascade down your face, yet you can’t help but smirk proudly, especially when his lovely eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs open as he chants your name.
“Fuuuck, I’m going to c-cum—shit!”
You inhale sharply as you push your head down, until his soft curls tickles your nose. A second later, your mouth fills with the salty, bitter taste of cum as Yoongi jerks under your touch, digging his nails into the sheets. You help Yoongi ride out his orgasm with a few pumps of your hand, making sure to collect all the excess without leaving a drop behind. When you’re sure there’s nothing left, you open your mouth to show him your reward before gulping it down with a smile.
With ragged breaths, he watches you swallow with a quirk of his lips; one of the corners pulled up into a half-smirk. “God, that was so fucking hot.”
“It’s your reward for making me feel good this morning,” you wink.
“Are you ready for round 2?” Yoongi asks with a grin.
“I should be asking you that…” But your words trail off when you notice that his dick is still very much hard. “Talk about stamina,” you mumble.
Yoongi chortles as he studies your shell-shocked face. “You look like you’ve never been properly satisfied,” he hums.
“After tonight? I have a feeling that may be the case.”
The two of you burst into laughter before he pulls you closer, kissing you unhurriedly as his hands explore your body to discard your clothes until you lay bare before him.
“You really are gorgeous,” he mumbles as he draws abstract shapes into the small of your back. Catching your eye roll, he chuckles. “I mean it.”
When he sits up to capture your lips, it’s all soft and filled with an emotion you’ve yet to name, and you wished your blood wasn't roaring in your ears because it’s making it incredibly difficult for you to hear what he’s whispering into your skin.
“What were you saying?” you ask when you part. “I think I missed it.”
Yoongi only smiles, but it’s not the brilliant grin that shows the pink of his gums, no, this one is more subdued – delicate – as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Nothing,” he replies, voice low and airy. “I didn’t say anything you don’t already know.”
It’s a strange response, but you really can’t push it further, because in the swirling abyss that exists in the dark pool of his eyes, lies an answer that you’re uncertain you want to know just yet.
Instead, you kiss him again, gliding your lips to get his to open, so your tongues can meet and have the conversation you’re too afraid to voice – for the sake of preserving the moment. You kiss him with ferocity, pushing him back onto the pillows as your hips grind against his hard length.
And when you lower yourself onto his cock, you forget the vow you made, because in this moment, with the moonlight filtering past the sheer curtains in his room, Yoongi is breath-taking. With his soft, dark hair splaying all over the pillows and his slightly swollen lips parted open in a quiet moan; you know you’ve fallen in love. Yoongi’s sincerity is your undoing, ever since the two of you met and sat next to each other when you were interns, and now? As you learn more about him and manage to breach through the quiet exterior? You’re a goner.
And maybe you’re delusional, but you swear, when your lips find his as you begin to move, you can taste the faintest trace of oranges.
Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips with his thrusts. “Please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what for. “Please, Yoongi.”
Despite your lack of instructions, Yoongi seems to know exactly what you need. “I got you,” he murmurs as he holds you before flipping you over, letting your chest rest on the mattress below.
Yoongi kisses your spine as he bottoms out again, making you moan into his pillows as he begins to move. “You’re so tight, shit,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit between your legs.
He keeps a steady pace, rocking you back and forth against the bed as you writhe with every drag of his cock and fingers. The only word that exists in your vocabulary at this moment is his name and without shame, you call out to him in a series of pathetic whines. You need him to know how good you feel, but without the ability to form coherent sentences, this is all you can do.
Though just like before, it doesn’t take him long to decipher your tells and he increases his speed, driving his cock deep into your pussy.
Finally, your tongue seems to want to move again. “Feels good… Yoongi…” you manage.
“Yeah? Me too. God, me too.”
He turns you over again then, so that you’re facing him once more. Yoongi crashes his lips to yours as he begins to thrust in earnest, pushing himself deeper than before. Your vision is filled with stars as you grab hold of his neck, rutting in tandem with his drive. What little hold you have left on your sanity wanes as the pressure builds – release so close that it leaves you gasping.
“Gonna-ah c-cum,” you moan, digging your nails into his back.
“Let go,” he commands, and again, he repeats, “I got you.”
The coil snaps at the sound of his promise. “Yoongi!” you shriek, tumbling down the chasm of pleasure. Your walls tightening around his length triggers a second orgasm from him, and with a groan of your name, he floods your insides with his seed.
“Shit… I didn’t—fuck—you felt so good, that I, uhm,” he stutters. Yoongi’s body shudders with pleasure even as he comes down from his high. With a heaving gasp, he collapses next to you, arms too tired to hold himself back up.
You pull him into an embrace while shushing his mumbled speech. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m on the pill, so don’t worry,” you assure him. “And if you’re worried if I came, didn’t you hear me scream? My throat is so sore now, holy shit.”
The both of you chuckle, the airy sounds mingling together. In the silence that follows, you don’t think about the feelings that surged in the midst of your coupling; refusing to acknowledge that he’s the reason that has your heart running a thousand miles a second. It isn’t just because of the nature of your relationship, but you’re genuinely worried of the possibility of losing a friend… and yet… Yoongi feels so perfect in your arms like this, with his smiling face smushed slightly to your chest. In the singular day since you’ve started this relationship, he’s made a habit of trailing shapes on the small of your back while humming quietly to a song you don’t know.
The soothing action pulls you away from your overbearing thoughts for a second. While planting a kiss into his hair, you ask him, “What’s the name of this song?”
“You like it?” Yoongi nuzzles further into your skin, breathing you in. “It’s my own original piece. It’s called ‘First Love’ and I wrote it about my piano back in my mother’s house.”
In your time together, Yoongi’s never mentioned his family or much of his childhood really, though you never thought to ask about them either.
“Music will forever be my first love,” he hums, dark eyes turning glassy as he recalls the memories. “I remembered slaving so hard over the keys that by the time I managed to master my first classical piece without making any mistakes, it drove me to tears,” Yoongi chuckles. “Ever since then, I practiced like a mad man, every single day after school. Just to play one piece after the next. My mother was mad; not because I was making too much noise, but because my studies suffered a lot.”
Your silence allows him to continue, but not before he peeks at you to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep. When your eyes meet his, the two of you smile, but his is much wider, a perfect showcase displaying his pearly teeth. He rolls over so your head lies on his chest, and his hand moves to trace shapes on your shoulder instead.
“My mother threatened to take the piano away, so I ended up working extra hard, on both music and my grades, but somehow it still wasn’t enough. There’s a time when she came into my room and ripped a bunch of the music sheets that I’ve painstakingly collected,” he sighs sadly, casting a faraway look towards the ceiling.
Your heart bleeds as he recites some of the words to the song. The lyrics personifies music as though it truly was his first love, but one line leaves your heart aching and shattered: Without you, I’m nothing.
It’s the decisive and almost unhealthy, nature of the words that cuts you deep. You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but it sounded like he’s shackled to his muse; needing it solely to live.
However, Yoongi isn’t seeking validation, nor is he looking for you to disagree, so you keep your mouth shut as he continues to talk about his life – about having to work two to three jobs while going through college and once he graduated, unable to find a suitable job in his field that lead him to work with Helion today.
“And that’s when I met you,” he chuckles as he tightens his embrace. “Something about you reminds me of the day I learned Chopin for the first time.”
“Why? Because I make you want to be a better person?” you tease, poking him lightly on the cheek.
Yoongi looks down at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
When you wake up the next day, the sun is peeking into the otherwise dark room through the crack in the blackout curtains. The bed next to you is empty, though the lingering warmth from its previous occupant tells you that he left not too long ago. Sure enough, you find a note on the nightstand tucked under the glass of water.
Gone out for bagels. Text me your order.
You’re smiling as you down the glass, reading the swoops of letters repeatedly before reaching for your phone.
You: just a plain bagel with cream cheese. Strong coffee. Please and thank you.
That one simple text turns you into a giggling mess as you shove the screen close to your face.
Setting your phone aside, your thoughts are too deeply intertwined with yesterday’s events that you can’t help the burning desire that flows through you once more. You’re satisfied; of course, you are, but the thought of spending another day with him, without having to worry about work for another day, especially with the launch being so soon, has you melting into his sheets.
Your breathing hitches as you close your eyes and lay back on the bed, caressing your own skin like Yoongi did the night before. Your fingers pale in comparison to his, yet you let the memories guide you as you tremble with every drag of touch against your clit.
“Yoongi—” you mumble into the quiet morning air.
You press your face closer to his side of the bed and the familiar scent of his cologne has you careen closer to the edge. The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut desperately into your hand while your mind conjures up an image of Yoongi leaning against the doorway, bagels abandoned in the kitchen while he studies your actions with amusement.
“Jesus, wetting the bed so early in the morning?” He’d tut, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Guess you can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”
“N-No… need you,” you whisper, hips raised from the bed as your fingers work quicker – wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs to make their mark on the sheets below. “Fuck—need you so badly.”
You press your head into the pillow while you crowd your pussy with another finger. It isn’t enough – nothing compares to the sheer girth of his cock and how effectively it stretches you out to make a mess out of you.
It requires three of your fingers for you to feel full as you replace your hand with the veiny arms belonging to Yoongi in your mind. You imagine him leaning over you with his signature, ever-present smirk on his face as you writhe under his touch. He’d provoke you to be louder, punctuating his words with every drag of his fingers against the patch of nerves in your cunt so that everyone could hear who this pussy belongs to.
It’s sudden – how the forest fire eclipses your whole body that snaps the coil in half. All because your filthy mind conjures up a final image of Yoongi commanding you to let go.
“Shitshitshit—Fuck! Yoongi!” You cum with an embarrassingly broken whine of his name, your fingers plunging deep into your pulsing hole that causes your arousal to squirt on the bed below.
You crash back to the reality of the bed with ragged breaths. The room spins slightly when you open your eyes and you have to blink several times to get the squiggly lines to float away from your vision.
When your breath evens out, you survey the room you’ve neglected in the heat of the moment. You didn’t get a chance to see very much of it last night and with your brain so occupied this morning, this was the perfect time to snoop into your coworker’s life.
Like the vague recollections of his living room, his bedroom is mostly devoid of furniture aside from the bed and the large floor to ceiling bookshelf on the further end of the wall. With nothing else to do, you hop from the bed to take a look at the books, smiling to yourself as you survey the rare photographs in each shelf of a younger Min Yoongi.
As your fingers trail the large tomes of stories, dictionaries, and magazines, you stop when you notice a gap between the end of the shelf and a copy of Don Quixote. Curious, your finger reaches into the gap to produce a small, yellow notebook the size of your palm. The title on the front is illegible, scrawled on by a small child, so you decide to delve through the pages to see what lurks behind.
You chuckle into the book as you read through entries dating as far back as the early 2000s. It’s a collection of poems – written by the one and only Min Yoongi. The earlier pages contain stories of playing outside and ice cream along with brief glimpses of his intelligence as he laments about the fleeting nature of summer.
You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he’s continued the tradition as you study the entries, his once messy handwriting morphing into the swoop of cursive you’re familiar with. It’s interesting to see his life in small glimpses: his teenage self agonizes over his future while the Yoongi in his early twenties begin to explore topics of dreams and goals.
You read each sentence carefully in an attempt to retain all the emotions he’s spilled on the page. Who knew that Yoongi has such an artistic mind?
When you reach the more recent entries, you hesitate, wondering if it’s all right for you to read through them. Unfortunately, your curiosity outweighs the small voice of conscience, so you pressed on.
The thought of Yoongi hunched over his bed scribbling into the tiny notebook makes you smile. You imagine the way his shoulders would curve inwardly while he balances the pages on his lap and that devilish tongue of his would wet his lips occasionally as he thinks.
You suppress a groan as your treacherous mind recalls what that tongue did to you the night before.
Shaking the dirty thoughts away, you return your attention to the last entry on the page. Unlike its predecessors, this one is short, containing only a title and a single line. However, the title itself is confusing - a seemingly random mix of consonants and vowels forming a word you know for sure does not exist in the English language. You figure it’s some sort of code, but your sluggish mind refuses to piece together the anagram, still dipped in sleep and the aftereffects of your orgasm. You grab your phone with a sigh, employing trusty, old Google to do its job. When you input the title into the search bar, for once, autocorrect comes to your rescue… but at what cost?
Disbelief exists in the knot of your eyebrows until you reread the page in its entirety. Realization kicks in slowly, but when it does, you gasp, throwing the notebook and the device away to the floor as if they burned you.
Because the anagram spells out your full name. This entry was written for you.
And the disquiet in your stomach is due to the emotion so easily evoked by a single line, one that you’re all too familiar with:
Without you, I’m nothing.
“I’m back. I got a bunch of bagels because I wasn’t sure which one you liked,” Yoongi calls out as he enters the apartment.
The silence that greets him makes him smile as he assumes that you’re still tired after last night, but when Yoongi walks into the bedroom, your name dies on his lips as he looks on in horror: at the yellow notebook – his yellow notebook – lying face down in front of your feet. Your shell-shocked expression tells him all he needs to know. You’ve read the latest entry.
This all feels like déjà vu; just like the first time he caught you weeping in the copy room. His own bedroom feels foreign to him as he takes a hesitant step inside. Yoongi wants nothing more than to laugh it off as a joke, but he knows you won’t buy the lie.
His attention snaps from the swirling patterns on the carpet to your face. Instead of fear, you seem curious, could he take it as a good sign?
“How much did you read?”
The voice that comes out of his mouth sounds foreign even to his own ears.
Your eyes drift lower then, to the notebook on the floor. “All of it,” you admit in a quiet voice. “I read all of it.”
The room fills with a blanket of tension. With a heavy sigh, you stand and brush past him, heading to the living room.
Yoongi’s eyes trail after you as you sit on the cushions of his couch. With an indescribable smile, you look straight into his eyes.
Despite your invitation, it’s you that sits mum on the couch next to him, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I saw it, you know.” Yoongi begins with a humourless smile. “The discomfort you felt was written all over your face when I recited that one line.”
You wait for a bit, holding a space for him to talk should he feel the need to elaborate. “You know, I feel like I do the talking in our relationship, but I’m going to need you to listen to me again, okay?” you say as you mirror his solemn grin. After taking a shuddering breath, you explain, “I don’t want to be the sole reason you live, because without me, you should still be something. I mean, you’re so… you,” you gesture at his figure. “Funny, and kind, and sincere. Someone I can trust and even lean on after all these years.”
His face doesn’t betray his thoughts as he refuses to meet your eyes.
“Yoongi,” you reach out to envelope both his hands into your own. “I love you.”
You can tell he hadn’t expected the confession, but his surprise quickly disappears as he laughs bitterly.
“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in this confession?” Yoongi asks sarcastically and his lips twitch into a faint hint of a smile.
“But… I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel like you’re not being true to yourself,” you advice as you squeeze his hands with your own. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you, but I just need you to know that you are your own person first.”
Yoongi nods as he digests your words. When he finally returns his gaze to you, he seems more relaxed, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he squeezes your hands in return. “I think I really needed to hear that.”
“So… what happens now?” you ask meekly, despite being the cause of this whole mess.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks, and when he does, there’s a quiet surge of confidence that you hadn’t heard from him before. “I want to be with you,” Yoongi admits. “But I think I’d also like to take things slow.”
“We can do that,” you grin.
And the following week, it’s you that leaves a tangerine on his desk; a signaling promise for tomorrow.
moon’s notes: ah! don’t we love a semi-ambiguous ending? i didn’t have the heart to end it sadly, so i hope it still makes sense!! thank you so much for reading through this lovely little piece. i appreciate all your love!
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when the party’s over [Jimin x Reader]
31. A Deal’s a Deal ✎
You sit down across from Yuna, a nervous ache radiating in your middle. This is the first time you have seen her face to face in over four years and the fox-like glint in her eye sets you on edge.
You try to remember how she looked that night. It’s a foggy memory but it comes back to you. The whole room fuzzy from alcohol. Two boys dragging a blanket over her pale, naked body. A shiver runs up your spine. Why is she naked? A flash of words written in red ink across her bare chest before it’s covered from view.
You snap out of the memory, reaching for the glass of water Yuna has just poured, and take a swallow of the cool liquid. She’s studying you now, her full lips pursed with unveiled displeasure. She doesn’t want to be here and you both know it.
“Thanks for coming,” you say, setting your glass back on the table.
Yuna rolls her eyes and reaches for the menu laid out before her. She flips through it without really looking but it gives you time to notice the bright red of her nails. You squeeze your eyes shut but the words across her chest blaze on the back of your eyelids.
“What do you want, y/n?” she asks. You open your mouth to reply but she lifts a finger to stop you and says, “If you say you just want to catch up, I’m leaving.”
You narrow your eyes at her, “But if you leave, you don’t get Jimin.”
She scoffs, “Jimin was never really on the table. You and I both know that. I’m only here because if I tell you whatever it is you want to know, you promise to give Jimin up, right?”
You swallow hard but nod anway. You agreed to give her Jimin in exchange for this information and a deal is a deal. A heaviness settles in your chest though.
As much as it hurt when Jimin betrayed you, you still wanted him. You wanted his sweet smile and his soft lips. You wanted his gentle teasing and midnight meetups. You wanted to curl up in his strong arms and hear his steady heartbeat.
And if he really took the blame so that you wouldn’t be mad at Jin… how could you give up a man like that?
You clench your teeth to bite back the ache of it and Yuna offers you a patronizing smile.
“Neither of us get him,” she says.
“Walk me through the whole party,” you counter, getting to the point of why you’re both here. She doesn’t seem surprised to hear you ask this question but she quirks an eyebrow anyway.
“I already told you,” she answers carefully, swirling her straw in icy water, “Jimin did it and he put the marker in your hand.”
You shake your head.
“The truth, Yuna. What do you actually remember?”
She rolls her eyes at you again before reaching for her phone. For a while, she scrolls without saying anything and then she tilts the screen towards you. Glowing bright is the evidence of that awful night. Harsh words written in harsher ink.
“Whose handwriting is that?” she asks.
You frown because you don’t actually know Jimin’s handwriting well enough to say if it was him but you do know Jin’s and this looks nothing like it. Even in a drunken stupor, the lettering is all wrong.
You reach for the phone, drawing it closer to examine each loop and line for some kind of clue. You are shocked when you actually find one. So shocked, in fact, that you can’t stop the laugh bubbling in your chest.
“You think my humiliation is funny?” Yuna snaps, snatching the phone out of your reach and slamming it back on the table.
“Of course not. No one should be violated like that even if they are a cheating bitch,” you tell her, more sober now than you ever have been.
“Then what's so funny?”
You point to the phone. “That’s not Jimin’s handwriting.”
“How would you know? You barely know Jimin so how would you know his handwriting?” she snaps. You see her shoulders curl down and you know you have a limited time before she storms off. She’s getting defensive now so she must know you’ve caught her.
You shrug, “You’re right. I don’t know Jimin’s handwriting. But I know yours.”
Her mouth falls open but you hold up a finger to keep her silent as you continue. “You must have written it upside down so I understand how you thought it would look different enough to be someone else’s but we were friends for how long? You wrote it on yourself.”
“And how would I have done that? I was passed out, same as you,” she says.
“Were you though?” you ask. You reach for your own phone and open a new message to your brother. Yuna watches you with barely masked contempt. “All I have to do is get Joon to text me Sunni’s number. You know Sunni? Your cronie turned idol? She would have helped you back then but last I checked, Namjoon pays her bills. What are the odds she tells me everything?”
“Fine!” Yuna shouts, “I let you out drink me that night so you’d black out! I wrote on myself and I was going to put the marker in your hand myself but then your stupid cousin walked in to check on you and it seemed so much funnier to convince him he’d done it and then blamed you.”
Rage flares inside you. She has no right to talk about your cousin that way but you bite down hard on your tongue to keep from interrupting. The whole story seems to just fall from her lips.
“I didn’t expect Jimin to take the fall for it but if it kept you away from him, that worked for me too!”
“Why?” you ask, “That night, what did I do that made you want to frame me for something so awful?”
“Don’t you remember?” she counters. She laughs at the blank look on your face. There is so much of that night that you don’t remember and it’s turning out that maybe Yuna had a lot more to do with it than you originally thought.
“No. Someone got me blackout drunk.”
She laughs again, “Wow, I’m impressed with myself. What a pity though… You lost so much time with him. y/n, you got Jimin to fall in love with you that night and I’ve hated you for it ever since.”
Your eyes widen, both at the revelation and at the person who has just stepped through the restaurant doors. He scans the room quickly, his eyes falling on you with noticeable relief. When his lips part in a wide grin, you almost feel like gravity has lost its hold on you.
Jimin is here.
And, you may not remember it, but a part of you knows you must have fallen in love with him that night too. You can feel it in your chest and even down in your bones. And Yuna is right, you have lost so much time.
You ignore her protest when you slide out of your seat and make your way through the maze of tables towards him. He’s sweaty and slightly out of breath and he stops just short of you, something in his face suddenly hesitant and unsure.
You realize he doesn’t know what Yuna has said about him or if you believe her like last time. He’s afraid you haven’t forgiven him for the lies he’s told. Lies he only gave to shield you from what he believed to be a devastating truth about that night.
“Hi,” you say, suddenly feeling shy yourself.
“Hi,” he breathes, “Are you okay?”
You’re quick to nod your head. You watch the tense lines of his shoulders relax and wonder what he must have imagined was happening here. You press your lips together before offering him a gentle smile.
“Are you okay?” you ask, looking him up and down. He hardly looks disheveled aside from the slight sheen of sweat across his forehead and if it weren’t for the slightly breathy hitch in his voice, you would never have known he’d practically run the whole way here.
“I’m okay now that I know you’re okay,” he tells you.
“Jimin,” Yuna croons from behind you and you jump, startled by her intrusion in this intimate moment.
Before you have time to turn and face her, Jimin reaches out and circles your wrist with warm fingers. He pulls you into his chest, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and shielding you from this woman who has meddled entirely too much in both your lives. You watch the angry bob of his Adam's apple and wait for a fight to break out.
“Hey, Yuna,” Jimin says, surprisingly calm, almost friendly even, “I just came to pick up y/n. Sorry if you haven’t finished your meal yet but we’ve got to go so…”
Yuna clucks her tongue, “Not so fast, Chimothy. y/n and I had a deal. She’s not leaving with you.”
You try to pull away from Jimin, to look him in the eye when you offer your apology, but he merely tucks your head under his chin, holding you tighter. You ball his shirt in your hand, tears pricking at your eyes, and whisper, “I’m sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean to.”
“y/n,” he whispers back so Yuna can’t hear, “unless you changed your mind and you don’t want me anymore, you don’t have to honor any deal with her, okay?”
Now you really do pull away, peering up into his angel face. It’s blurry because you’ve started to cry and he swipes his thumb beneath your eyes to catch the falling water. “I want you.”
“A deal’s a deal, y/n,” Yuna repeats, her voice full of warning.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “You’ve never honored a single deal in your life, Yuna. Now we’re going. Hope you have a good life.”
When you’ve made it several blocks from the restaurant, tucked under his arm the whole way, you stop and clear your throat. “Jimin, she told me everything —”
“Baby, it’s okay,” he says, cutting you off, “I only lied to protect you and Jin. I love you both so much, I couldn’t stand it if anything happened between you two because of this.” You sigh and press your palm over his mouth to make him stop talking.
You both have a tendency to ramble and you need to tell him the truth before he trips over himself. He stares down at you, caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to be annoyed. When you offer him a sweet, not at all apologetic smile, he sticks his tongue out to lick your palm and you pull away with a cry of disgust.
“You’re so gross,” you whine, “I can’t believe I’m in love with someone so disgusting!”
He catches your hand and pulls you close, a taunting look dancing in his eyes, “You’re in love with me?”
“Obviously! Now listen,” you order, leaning up on your toes to place a quick peck on his lips. When you pull back, he looks as if he’s not going to let that chaste kiss slide so you hurry to say what you need to say, “I didn’t write on Yuna and neither did you.”
“Yes, y/n, I know,” he says tiredly, “Jin did it.”
You shake your head. “He didn’t either!”
Jimin furrows his brow, trying to see what he’s missing. You pat his cheek, bringing him back to the present, and say, “Yuna did it to herself. She didn’t get drunk that night. She just let me think she had and she was going to blame it on me but then Jin walked in and Yuna convinced him to take the marker so it looked like he had done it when you found him.”
“But why would she do that?” he asks, “I mean, aside from the fact that she’s actually psychotic.”
“Because she was jealous of us meeting that night. She took away my memory of it and then made me believe for four years that I had done that terrible thing just to keep me away from you,” you say.
He lifts his hands to trace your cheekbones down the curve of your neck and further to your arms, your wrists, your fingers… leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches until his hands come to settle on your waist. He pulls you up against him and rests his forehead on yours.
“I’m sorry you can’t remember that night,” he whispers.
“Me too,” you confess, your voice cracking like you might actually cry. You haven’t had time to process it but now that you know why you can’t remember, it enrages you. Jimin gives your sides a small squeeze to bring your focus back to him.
“But maybe I can show you how I wish that night had ended.” His voice is huskier now and that sends a thrill through you. Words won’t come out of your mouth so you just nod. He can show you whatever he wants.
His lips meet yours so tenderly you feel like you might cry again. You lean into him, your arms wrapping tightly around him as if you could press yourself any closer to him on this busy Seoul street. For a moment, you both feel like you might laugh being so affectionate in this very public place and then he is all you can think about and you are all he can think about.
Your lips part when his tongue slides across them and after a moment you don’t know where he ends and you begin anymore. Your fingers tangle in his damp, blonde hair and a low hum of approval sounds in his throat when you lightly pull on the strands. His hands have begun their own journey down your sides to your hips and are currently on their way around your backside.
You pull away from him with a gasp.
“Jimin, we’re in public!” you cry and swat at his chest but he only quirks an eyebrow and takes you by the hand.
“Well, then we better get out of here, shouldn’t we?” he asks and then, pressing his lips to your ear, adds, “Because I’m not done. Are you?”
And you aren’t so you let him lead you through the winding streets to somewhere more private where this can continue.
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