#pearlecent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greenxgloss · 3 months ago

Note

Im new to Tumblr and took me an eternity to find the freaking ask button! *clears throat* anyway!

Can I please request a fix where you’ve been an solo idol for about 3 to five years now and you really found success so naturelly you buy a new house so you throw a house worming party with your idol friends including your Hybe friends but Yoongi can not keep his hands of you cause of your outfit so you snuck of to somewhere In the house and well you know… no need for smit if you don’t like! And you where teased the rest of the night lol. And maybe during the dinner part of the soirée your friends threatened to leak your embarrassing pictures if you don’t release an album soon. You can be as creative as you’d like if your up for it haha

Side note: you let Yoongi after you debut at a Hybe artist reunion party.

I know this might be alog

Youd be surpised how long it took me to understand how tumblr works and I'm still figuring shit out after being on here for years dw bby. thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy reading xoxo

Summary: At your housewarming party, Yoongi's lingering touches and heated gaze reignite a long-simmering attraction between you, pushing your teasing friendship to its breaking point. With the music and laughter of your friends just outside the door, you surrender to the tension, finally giving in to the desire that had always simmered beneath the surface. Themes: Flirtatious!Yoongi x Clueless!Reader, SoftDom!Yoongi, Smut, F!Reader, F oral receiver, Drunk characters, mention of alcohol, little tiny bit of comedy and slight peer pressure but in a funny way. Word Count: 4k

The bass from the speakers pulsed through the walls, a steady rhythm that matched the excitement buzzing in the air. Your housewarming party was in full swing—idol friends scattered across your new home, drinks in hand, laughter spilling into every corner. The success of your solo career had allowed you to upgrade to a place like this, and tonight was all about celebrating.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting your pearlecent butterfly top and smoothing out the pockets of your low-rise flared jeans. With a spin, you glanced back at the sweet embroidered design on the back pockets and smiled at your reflection.

You had spent weeks planning everything—down to the smallest detail—ensuring the night would be as perfect as your career had been these past few years. But as much as you wanted to enjoy yourself, it was becoming increasingly difficult under Yoongi’s burning gaze.

From the moment you opened the door to welcome your HYBE friends, his eyes had been locked on you. The outfit you’d chosen—The butterfly top in specific was very revealing—It had been a bold choice, but you hadn't expected this level of distraction. Every time you moved, every time you leaned over to refill a glass or turned to laugh at something someone said, you could feel Yoongi’s presence like a magnet, pulling you in. Your back was fully exposed and your cleavage on full display. The glitter sprayed over your chest, complimenting the chrome pearls around your neck and the matching ones hanging from your ears.

You had met him early on, back when you were still just a trainee—wide-eyed, hungry for success, and eager to prove yourself. It was during those long, exhausting practice days that you first crossed paths with Bangtan, their presence in the building a constant reminder of the level of success you were striving toward. They were already established- legends in the making, but despite the difference in status, they treated you kindly. Yoongi, in particular, had always caught your attention.

From the beginning, there was something effortless about the way the two of you interacted. Your conversations were laced with playful teasing, subtle touches, and lingering eye contact that hinted at something more. The attraction was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, but nothing ever came of it. Timing was never in your favor—he was busy with his career, and you were too focused on building your own name to entertain the thought of something serious. So, instead, you settled into a dynamic that felt safe: a flirty friendship that never quite crossed the line.

Until tonight.

It started with the small things—his hand resting a second too long on the small of your back as he passed by, his breath ghosting over your ear when he leaned in to speak, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. You tried to ignore it, pretend like it wasn’t sending heat through your veins, but the knowing smirk on his face told you he could see right through you.

And then, you snapped.

The second you found an opening and everyone was distracted and consumed by the loud music, you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and subtly pulled him away from the main party, slipping down a hallway where the music faded into the background. He barely had time to question it before you were on him, pressing him against the wall with a teasing smirk.

Yoongi’s gaze traveled down from your eyes to your cleavage, and he began smiling, tongue clamped between his teeth.

“Whats with you tonight?” you asked in a whisper, looking over your shoulder, down the hall toward the party.

“You just look so good tonight; you’re making it really hard to be a gentleman.” he gulped, looking back up into your eyes. You scoffed playfully in return. “You’re such a pervert,” you giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling him into your room.

Yoongi chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending shivers down your spine as he bit his lip, eyes dark with want. He reached behind him, blindly pushing the door shut before his hands found their place on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, wrapped around you like a haze.

“You dressed so—fuck," he rasped, his voice low and strained, breath fanning against your ear. "You practically have your tits out, and you expected me to just act normal?”

His words sent heat rushing through you, pooling deep in your stomach as his hands roamed your exposed skin, fingertips skimming over the curve of your hips, down your sides, up your back. His touch was slow, teasing, like he was savoring every inch of you. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against your pulse point before pressing open-mouthed kisses there, sucking lightly, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Shit—Yoongi,” you whined, his name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Your fingers instinctively tangled into his hair, twisting and pulling, eliciting a low groan from him. His grip on your hips tightened in response, his body pressing even closer to yours as he guided you backward, step by step, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

A delicious shiver shot up your spine, settling in your head like a drug. Your breath hitched as Yoongi pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Mmh,” he hummed, his voice dripping with need. "I wanna hear you say my name like that again.”

Yoongi kissed your lips with hunger, lowering you down on the bed gently. He pulled away to unbutton his jeans.

A loud noise could be heard from outside causing you and Youngi to snap your attention toward the door. Your stomach sank.

“Fuck sake, kook.” you heard jimin cuss at Jungkook, probably picking his drunk bones off the ground and walk him to the bathroom.

You glanced back up at Yoongi, catching his gaze just as he turned toward you. The moment your eyes met, laughter bubbled up between you, a shared understanding passing between the two of you without a single word.

“God, they’re so annoying,” Yoongi groaned, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. “My heart is pounding.” His chuckle was warm, breathless, as if the weight of the possibility of being walked in on had begun fading away.

Before you could respond, he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Doesn’t look like I’ll have time for more than a drink,” he murmured, voice thick with something sinful as his fingers found the button of your jeans.

Your breath hitched as he expertly popped it open, the slow, deliberate way he peeled the denim down your thighs making your skin prickle with anticipation. The cool air of the room kissed your now-exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine. And then, his eyes darkened—his playful smirk faltering for just a second as his gaze fell to the light blue G-string hugging your hips, the darkened patch of fabric giving away just how much you wanted him.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his brows twitching as if he was physically restraining himself. “That’s just amazing,” he breathed out, his voice tinged with an almost reverent chuckle.

Your stomach clenched at his words, the intensity of his stare making you feel bare in ways that had nothing to do with clothing. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core, thighs instinctively pressing together. The whole situation had you weak—your voice caught in your throat, words completely failing you.

“All I did was touch you,” he mused, amusement dancing in his tone. “And you’re already like this?”

Your face burned, and a nervous scoff left your lips as you averted your gaze. “That’s embarrassing,” you muttered, fingers twitching against the bedsheets.

Yoongi, however, was having none of it. His hands slid up your thighs, warm and grounding, his touch sending a new wave of electricity through your veins. “No. What? I love it,” he said, voice still soft but firm. “You need me just as much as I need you.”

The way his words curled around you, the way they soaked into your skin and settled deep inside your chest—it was intoxicating. It wasn’t just what he said but how he said it. His voice, laced with something raw and unfiltered, sent a rush of heat flooding through your body, a warmth that spread like the first shot of tequila you’d taken earlier that night.

“Yoongi,” you whined, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body acting on pure impulse as your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him up.

He let out a low chuckle, but the moment his lips met yours, the teasing melted into something deeper. He smiled against your mouth, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss was slow, lingering—like he was savoring the taste of you, the moment, the way you trembled in his hands.

Yoongi’s touch was electric, his palm warm as it pressed against your chest, fingers expertly kneading the soft flesh of your breast. A shiver coursed through you, your body responding instantly, a quiet moan slipping past your lips and into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss for just a moment longer before pulling away, his dark eyes flickering with something teasing, something hungry.

“That good?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, yet laced with something deeper—something that made your stomach clench and your legs press together involuntarily. His gaze was locked onto your face, drinking in every twitch of your features, every shallow breath as his hand trailed lower. The tips of his fingers danced over your stomach, feather-light and torturously slow, before reaching the delicate lace of your thong.

You nodded quickly, barely able to breathe, anticipation thick in the air. But Yoongi wasn’t satisfied with just that. His lips curled into a smirk as he bit down gently on his lower lip. “You’ve never had a problem using your words before,” he mused, his voice dropping an octave, a sultry rasp that sent heat shooting through your core.

His fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric, the heat of his touch making your breath hitch as he traced a slow, teasing line down your center. Your body betrayed you, hips jerking slightly at the sensation, your skin prickling with anticipation.

A whimper bubbled in your throat, but you swallowed it, your pride barely keeping you from giving him exactly what he wanted so easily. But he knew. He always knew.

Yoongi’s lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, his breath fanning over your skin as his fingers dipped lower, his teasing touch barely there. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he hummed, his voice smug, filled with satisfaction at the way you were unraveling under him.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, the sound almost deafening in your ears. Every nerve in your body was set ablaze, strung so tight that you thought you might snap at the slightest push. The air between you felt thick, charged, like a live wire sparking with tension. Yoongi was toying with you, reveling in the way your body trembled under his touch, in the way your lips parted but no words came out—only desperate little breaths, whimpers that he drank in like they were the sweetest sound in the world.

He was waiting. Waiting for you to break, to give in, to beg. To say his name in that way that made his self-control slip, in that way that had him coming undone right alongside you.

And God, you were so close.

Your pride clashed violently with your desperation, the last remnants of your restraint slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, your legs twitching as his fingers continued their slow, torturous path. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe through the heat suffocating your body, through the molten ache between your thighs.

"Please." The word barely left your lips, a whisper, a plea, laced with so much raw need that even you barely recognized your own voice.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his smirk deepening. He loved this. Loved seeing you like this—messy, desperate, completely at his mercy. "Please what, hmm?" he teased, voice low, dangerously smooth, yet thick with desire. His fingers slowed just enough to drive you insane, barely brushing against your clit in agonizing circles, the wet sounds filling the air between you. The sensation sent a new wave of heat flooding through you, burning from the inside out, making your thighs tremble around him.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in Yoongi’s chest at the sound, at the way you clenched around nothing, already so worked up just from his teasing. The sight of you—needy, eyes heavy with lust, lips swollen from kissing—had his own restraint hanging by a thread, heat stirring violently in his stomach, in his core, matching yours in intensity.

You let out a soft whimper, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, your own glazed over with want. "I need you. Please." Your voice cracked, your breath hitching as another slow stroke sent a shiver up your spine.

Yoongi’s smirk faltered for just a second, something darker flashing behind his eyes at your words, at the way you were completely unraveling beneath him. He licked his lips, letting his fingers dip lower just to watch you squirm.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice nothing more than a sultry whisper against your flushed skin. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he slowly slicked two fingers into your heat, thrusting them at a steady slow pace. He kept his eyes on your face, licking his lips.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, your body instinctively gripping him tighter with every curl, every slow, deliberate stroke. It was almost unbearable—the way he had you spread open, how his fingers pumped into you with a steady, unrelenting pace, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You were drenched, the wet sounds echoing in the room, mixing with your breathless whimpers and the occasional low groan from Yoongi.

You held onto his shoulder like a lifeline, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, needing something—anything—to ground yourself. Every sensation felt heightened, overwhelming. The heat between your thighs was suffocating, each movement pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew Yoongi could feel it. He could feel how tight you were, how your body clenched and trembled around him, desperate for more.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his voice a mix of restraint and admiration. His eyes flickered between your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, and the way you writhed under him. "Your pussy feels so good, so tight." His words sent another wave of heat washing over you, pooling in your stomach, making you whimper as he quickened his pace.

You could tell he was struggling to keep his composure. The way his jaw clenched, the way his free hand gripped your thigh possessively, the way his breathing had become just as unsteady as yours—it was obvious. His erection was straining against his jeans, pressed so tightly against the fabric that it had to be painful, but still, he made no move to relieve himself.

Because tonight was about you.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, when your body was on the verge of collapsing under the pleasure, Yoongi suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching. You whined at the loss, your hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction, but before you could even protest, he was already shifting lower, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he spread you open beneath him.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, glistening, needy, completely at his mercy. "Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

And then, without another word, he dipped his head down and dragged his tongue through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he moaned against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core. Yoongi ate you out like he was starving, like he had been waiting for this all night, his tongue lapping at you, flicking and circling your clit in a way that made you see stars.

You were lost in it, lost in him—your body melting, pleasure building so intensely it was almost unbearable. And judging by the way Yoongi groaned against you, his own frustration mounting with every second, he was just as lost in you.

Yoongi’s swollen lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a slow, deliberate pull. A sharp gasp left your lips, your fingers tangling tighter into his dark hair as heat pooled in your core. He was relentless, tongue working against you in fluid, hungry strokes, savoring every sound that spilled from your mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightened, fingers digging into your skin as if grounding himself, keeping you spread open for him, completely at his mercy. He let out a low, guttural growl against your heat, the vibrations sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your spine. "Fuck," he exhaled, lips wet with evidence of how much you needed him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping at your slick folds before flicking back up to your clit, teasing, tormenting. Your back arched off the mattress, breath hitching as he pushed you further into that delicious, intoxicating edge of pleasure.

“Right there, right there,” you mewled, barely coherent, and he hummed against you in response, sending another wave of pleasure straight to your core. He wanted more. He needed more. The way you writhed, the way you moaned his name like a prayer—he was addicted.

You couldn't quite describe how you felt. It was like an itch deep in your stomach that only Yoongi could reach, your back arching off the bed with a squeaking gasp, your hips rutting against his nose.

“Fuck im gonna cum yoongi.” your jaw slack, eyes glued shut and grasp on his hair tightening with every flick of his tongue. Yoongi trailed his hands up to your hips, spurring you on to grind against his face, fuck yourself on his face. He began slurping down your cunt loudly, the sound planting a sweet itch at your core similar to when youre trying to remember a word and its on the tip of your tongue but you cant quite get it.

The sudden clench of your walls had Yoongi moving instinctively, his hand swiftly covering your mouth before the inevitable moan could escape. His grip was firm but careful, as though he knew exactly how your body would betray you. Your thighs tightened around his head in response, the tension spurring him on as he devoured you through the aftershocks of your climax. His tongue worked tirelessly, determined to savor every drop of you until the overstimulation had you writhing beneath him.

“Too much, Yoongs,” you gasped, voice breathless as your fingers found purchase in his hair, tugging with just enough desperation to make him groan against you. Your body trembled, vision blurred, but he wasn’t finished. The taste of you was intoxicating—his newfound favorite indulgence—and he wasn’t ready to part from it just yet.

Eventually, he relented, emerging from between your legs with a satisfied hum. A thin sheen of sweat glistened along his forehead, his lips swollen and glistening from his efforts. He watched you for a moment, drinking in the sight of your spent body before pressing slow, lingering kisses up your stomach. When his lips finally found yours, the kiss was deep, unhurried—possessive. He made sure to leave them swollen, a reminder of what had just transpired between you.

You could taste yourself on him, the remnants of your arousal mixing with the faint trace of tequila lingering on your own tongue. Yoongi pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning over your lips as he smirked.

“We should get back before someone comes looking for you,” he murmured, voice low, warm. His eyes roamed over your dazed expression, the way your body still trembled slightly in the aftermath. “You look too pretty like this—fucked out and glowing. I think I’d like to keep that to myself.”

Before you could respond, he stole another kiss, this one brief but teasing, before pushing himself to his feet. He disappeared into the washroom, giving himself a once-over in the mirror while you hurried to gather your composure, pulling your bottoms back on.

“That doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you mused, giggling as you ran a brush through your hair, then lightly dusted setting powder across your flushed skin. A spritz of perfume, a quick reapplication of deodorant, and you were ready.

Together, you navigated your way back to the party with careful steps, eyes darting around to ensure no one had noticed your absence. Just before you stepped into view, you reached up, fluffing his hair to make him look a little less disheveled. Yoongi caught your wrist before you could pull away, pressing one final kiss to your palm, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then, as if nothing had happened, you rejoined the party.

When the two of you finally emerged—slightly disheveled but expertly composed—your friends were already onto you. You cleared your throat as you fixed your hair and readjusted your top, looking over at Yoongi who still has some of your cum on his chin. Your eyes widened in mortification, and you quickly rushed to wipe it off with your thumb. An afterglow ever-present on both your faces though you’d scrambled to touch up your makeup before rushing out and quickly fixing up your hair

"Nice of you to rejoin us," Hoseok teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, red solo cup clutched in his hands. You giggled while Yoongi rolled his eyes.

Jimin grinned. "We were taking bets on how long you'd be gone."

"You’re all insufferable," you groaned, sinking into your armchair and glancing around the room to see if anyone else had noticed. Yoongi gave you a sympathetic smile. Of course, the Bangtan boys had kept track of each other at parties. Of course, they noticed he was gone, and of course, they noticed the host of the party was also missing. Your openly flirtatious relationship with Yoongi being well known enough amongst them, they immediately connected the dots.

"Oh, we’re not done yet," Namjoon smirked, pulling a handful of photocards from his back pocket and waving them in your face. "Drop an album soon, or these go public."

Your stomach dropped at the sight of your most embarrassing pre-debut photos. “What the fuck!” you exclaimed somehow still in a whisper and you tried reaching for the photos but he pulled back. “Joon!” you yelled, dragging out in a whine.

Your hair was an ugly burnt auburn with blonde money pieces, you dressed in the whimsical indie style that had been overused and overdone back when you’d debuted. What you hated the most about your appearance at the time was your acne, which you covered with very, very heavy makeup not doing your skin any favours.

The color drained from your face.

"First of all, you, of all people, should know that writing music isn't that simple," you huffed, exasperation clear in your voice.

Namjoon only chuckled, taking a slow sip of his beer before leveling you with a smirk. "Then get on it," he teased, slipping the photos into his pocket with a deliberate nonchalance.

Jimin, freshly emerged from the guest bathroom, caught the exchange and rolled his eyes. "He won't do anything, don't worry," he muttered, dragging an inebriated Jungkook behind him.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the conversation shifted, the night continuing with the usual banter. Whatever Namjoon had planned, you knew he’d wait—he always did. And for now, you could enjoy the moment and be hopeful for what time held for Yoongi and you.

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

321 notes · View notes