toy box | namgi

let the games begin

Yoongi's phone was a constant distraction to him, and he found himself internally groaning when the loud vibrations of a text notification snapped his attention from the blank piece of paper he'd been staring at. A lot of pressure was riding on Yoongi's aching shoulders. He was expected to write the group's next big hit, but so far he hadn't even wrote down a single lyric. The words just wouldn't flow from his lips, which were usually easily capable of spitting fire, but now he was embarrassingly silent. Writer's block didn't hit him often, but when it did it hit him hard.

His phone vibrated again, begging to be answered, and Yoongi pushed away at the sheets of paper before picking up his phone and unlocking it. The dim screen showed the rapper that the text was from Namjoon, and Yoongi sighed. The younger rapper knew not to bother him when he was in the studio, and it pissed Yoongi off to know that the younger boy had deliberately ignored the unspoken rule between them. The studio was a sacred space, and a place that demanded focus and energy, both of which Yoongi was currently lacking.

He sighed again before unlocking his phone and pulling up the message, a small smile growing over his face at the text. His leader was so sappy that it was almost cute. Almost. The younger boy had obviously meant his text to go to his friend Jackson. Namjoon was asking if Jackson was free this weekend because he missed him, the winking face at the end of the text making Yoongi gag. As much as Namjoon wanted the world to see him as this badass rapper, Yoongi couldn't help but laugh every time his true nature was exposed. The laughter quickly faded as another text was accidentally sent his way, this time of a picture that had Yoongi's mouth widening in shock.

Yoongi recognised the familiar mirror and tiled walls of their bathroom in the picture, but his brain was struggling to make sense of the rest of the image. He knew it was Namjoon. The tanned skin and stupidly long neck gave it away, along with a small scar Namjoon had along the back of his shoulder blades where he'd fallen over once. The rest of the picture had Yoongi's cheeks glowing a delicate pink. Namjoon was naked, his round ass pointed towards the mirror, one hand spreading the cheeks as the other held onto his phone. Between his ass sat a bright pink butt plug, which was attached to a long and fluffy pale pink tail.

Yoongi had never felt so torn apart by just one picture. One half of him wanted to throw his phone away and claw his own eyes out, but the other just couldn't peel his eyes off of the image of his leader spreading wide for the camera. He stayed rooted to the spot, mouth still hanging open as his crotch began to feel tightly constricted within his jeans. It was only a minute later when a flurry of texts was sent his way, consisting mostly of swear words and apologies as Namjoon begged Yoongi to forget about the picture.

But the rapper knew that he couldn't. It would be forever burnt into his retinas, and Yoongi couldn't even feel guilty as he saved the picture to his camera roll and tugged at the zipper of his jeans. He'd be lying to himself if he said he'd never jacked off to his leader before, he couldn't help it, the younger boy was fucking hot. But now there was that picture too, and Yoongi swore at himself as he gave into his temptations and chased his release, his thoughts full of what it would feel like to stroke that soft tail between his hands and grip onto the skin of his leader's thighs.