Tangled Realities (Ot7xreader)

Your entire body was still burning, tingling with frustration as you stumbled toward your room. There was no way you were sleeping like this. Not with the way your skin still felt electrified from Yoongi’s touch, from the way his lips had felt against yours, from the way everyone had been looking at you.

As soon as you shut your door, you let out a breathless laugh, running your fingers through your hair, feeling entirely too hot. You needed to do something—anything—to take the edge off.

Your legs squeezed together involuntarily, your body aching, desperate for relief. But just as your fingers ghosted over the hem of your shirt, your phone buzzed.

A message.

Yoongi: Sleep.

You stared at the screen, heart pounding. Then another one came in.

Yoongi: I mean it.

You smirked, biting your lip. Oh, he knew exactly what you were about to do. And that only made you want to do it more.

The moment you stepped out of your own room, your body already felt like it was moving on its own. You needed more. The teasing, the heat, the feeling of Yoongi’s hands on you earlier—it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

Your feet carried you down the dimly lit hallway, the house quiet except for the faint murmurs of the others in their rooms. You knew exactly where you were going. Who you wanted.

When you finally reached Yoongi’s door, your hand curled around the handle—only to find it locked.

You scoffed. He knew. He knew you would come. He knew you wouldn’t be satisfied just leaving things as they were. But what he didn’t account for—was the fact that you had already grabbed the master key from its usual spot before making your way here.

Without hesitation, you slid the key into the lock, twisting it slowly until you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

Yoongi was lying on his bed, one arm over his eyes, the other resting over his stomach. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of his toned skin. The moment he heard the door click open, he sighed.

“I locked it for a reason,” he muttered, voice low and tired.

But you didn’t care. Not tonight.

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. The heat in your body hadn’t dulled, not even a little. If anything, seeing him now—lazily sprawled out, looking so effortlessly good—only made it worse.

“You knew I’d come anyway,” you murmured, walking towards the bed.

Yoongi finally looked at you then, his sharp eyes dark and unreadable. He watched as you climbed onto the mattress, straddling him with ease. His fingers twitched at his sides, his breath hitching just slightly.

“You’re drunk,” he reminded you, though his hands instinctively found your waist, his grip firm.

You leaned down, lips barely brushing his. “Not that drunk.”

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his resolve visibly wavering. But he still didn’t give in. Instead, he turned his head, making you kiss his jaw instead.

“Go to sleep,” he murmured, his hands moving up to your arms, gripping them just enough to make you pause.

But you shook your head. “I don’t want to.”

Yoongi groaned, his fingers tightening for a second before he pushed you off him—gently, but firmly. You landed beside him, breathless, frustrated, your whole body still burning.