#Min Yoongi x Reader smut

[yoonlattesworld]

The dealer : MYG

Synposis : you've heard about every nasty rumor surrounding him. It's like they follow him every where he goes. But something in your heart told you that after all, rumors were just rumors. You knew you were playing with fire. You knew that you shouldn't be anywhere near him. But after an incident involving your best friend happened, you found yourself getting closer to him. You tried to stop the flutter in your heart which increased every time he looked at you, every time he touched you. But of course the heart never listens to the brain. After all logic is irrelevant to feelings.

The only question is whether you'll end up with a broken heart, or with a love which will make you feel alive again.

Genre/warnings: drug dealer yoongi, grumpy x sunshine, tsundere yoongi, romance, fluff, smut, angst, usage of drugs, blood, fights, gun, mentions of depression, drug overdose, child abuse, one pov switch ,fingering, love making,almost getting harassed , lose of virginity , oral (f receiving)

Pairing : drug dealer yoongi x good girl reader

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Author's pov

"did you hear?" you looked up from your laptop to see your best friend leena looking at you with wide eyes which told you she has heard a new gossip.

Smiling slightly you closed the laptop before folding your arms and looked at her "hear what?" "about him!" she exclaimed as if she expected you to know who that 'him' is. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember if she was seeing anyone new "him who-" oh.

Her smile told you she knew exactly what you were thinking about as you avoided her eyes and opened your laptop again "what about him?" you tried to hide the interest in your voice as you waited for her answer patiently.

Of course you know who he is. Not personally but you've heard enough to know what kind of person he is. One didn't need to know someone personally when there were countless rumors surrounding that person. Specially when there more bad than good.

You've only seen him once or twice by the back gate of your university where people buy drugs and god knows what from him. He didn't look innocent either but you've always told yourself not to judge someone by their appearance. Still, him with his black leather jacket and black jeans and boots with multiple tattoos and piercings, he looked very intimidating. Enough for a sane person to walk away the moment they make eye contact with him.

According to some people half of those rumors were a lie. But he never made a move to improve his reputation. Leena had once told you that he was seen carrying a gun around. And that was enough to increase that chilling fear inside you when you once accidentally made eye contact with him.

"y/n?" "earth to y/n?" you blinked twice as leena snapped her fingers in front of your face and shook your head as if to rid yourself of any thoughts about him. "what were you saying? " you smiled sheepishly as she raised an eyebrow "where did you get lost? Perhaps somewhere which included a certain-" "leena. Stop" she pursued her lips at your glare and raised her hands in surrender "okay okay now what were we talking about? Yes-" she clapped her hand once and the eagerness in her eyes returned.

"last week some people saw him beating a person" your eyes widened "what?" she nodded with equally wide eyes "he spent two nights in prison before his partner bailed him out" you shook your head sighing softly but your eyes narrowed soon after "his partner? How do you know the person who bailed him out was his partner? " "well" she smiled which looked suspiciously guilty "actually my brother heard about it from his friends" you looked away from her and continued typing as she sighed "babe" you ignored her as she whined "look I'm sorry babes. I know you don't like getting involved with people like him but I promise sang-u isn't the one who purchases anything from him-" you looked at her "oh my god stop looking at me like that! What I meant is that his friends buy from him but he says he just stands beside them. He has never done any drugs y/n you know he isn't like that"

You sighed nodding and she leaned forward and held your hand "are you mad? " looking at her, a soft smile broke on your face when you saw her pout and shook your head "I'm not. Just tell sang-u not to get involved with him okay? I know he's not like that but still. It doesn't hurt to be safe" she nodded and smiled back at you "of course babe. I'd already told him to stop hanging out with those kids but you know this is the first time he's had friends. Besides I've met them and they seem like a decent bunch" you nodded with a smile before silence set over and you both continued your work in silence.

Kim leena and Kim sang u are only 3 months apart. Leena was only three months old when her mom was pregnant with sang u but even with their small age difference, leena was still both a mother, and a big sister to sang u. She's always been protective of him, especially after both their parents died in a car accident. They were only 15 when they came to know that their parents are no longer in this world.

Both of them were taken in by their grandparents but leena knew that it wasn't enough. So at the age of 15 she gave up her own joy to raise her brother and make sure that he never feels unloved. Sang u didn't take their parent's death well. Nor did leena but she managed to hide it well for his sake. On the other hand he slowly started to get depressed . He stopped going out and stayed holed up in his room after coming home from school. Because of his quiet and timid nature he was bullied in high school. Something which damaged his self esteem a lot. Leena transferred both herself and her brother to a different school and that helped. Somewhat.

Since the last year sang u has gotten a lot better. He regularly attends classes and has started to catch up on his studies too. You were very glad to finally see the siblings happy. You've known them since you were 17 so you've been friends since the last 3 years. You know leena has gotten a lot gentler with sang u. She was the most happy when she found out that sang u has been making friends and is socialising properly. So although she was less than amused to see that some of his friends in the group smokes, she didn't want to be hard on him and tell him to leave the group when he had finally made friends after years.

A few days after that conversation with leena, you saw him again, for the third time. He was leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette while looking up at the clear sky. He was wearing the same all black clothes but today without a jacket which revealed his pale, veiny arms which were filled with black ink. Something about the black ink on his pale skin looked so beautiful to you. Even at the distance you could see his muscular arms and the way his pointer finger and thumb held the cigarette. Isn't he cold?

Oh god what in the world were you doing? You looked away immediately when he looked in your direction and you assumed he felt you staring. You were going to walk away but your steps halted when you saw someone familiar. Sang u? Your lips parted and you hid behind the wall before peeking out. Sure enough it was sang u along with another guy. You hugged yourself as a chilly wind swiped around you but you stayed put to see the guy taking a packet from him. He took the small bundle of cash and said something before walking away.

On your walk home you only felt the chilly fear again as you remembered sang u taking the packet from his friend. What was in that packet? Were they drugs? Did sang U?-

No

Of course he wouldn't do anything like that. You've known him since 3 years and you know sang u is a good person. But still, as you pulled the covers over your body, you looked at leena sleeping soundly on her bed and sighed. You couldn't shake off the feeling which told you that something was wrong. Maybe you should tell her about what you saw tomorrow morning. Yes you'll do that.

Closing your eyes you buried yourself in the ocean of pillows and blankets but sleep didn't come that easily.

The next morning you woke up, the first thing you wanted to do was talk to leena but your eyebrows furrowed when instead of her curled up, you found her bed empty. Rubbing your eyes you stifled a yawn and walked out of the room expecting leena to be in the kitchen for water but yet again, your surprise only increased when you found both the living room and kitchen empty. You didn't hear the water running so she's not in the bathroom either.

"where did she go so early?" you mumbled to yourself and started making your breakfast. You figured she finally started keeping up with her new year's resolution and has decided to go for a run in early morning. While the bread was toasting you went to brush your teeth and fresh up a bit before preparing your sandwich.

But as you sat on the chair, your eyes travelled to the clock '7:59 am' you frowned sipping your coffee. It's been almost an hour since you woke up and she's still not home. Even if she did went for a run, she should have been back by now. A small fickle of worry started growing inside you as you picked up your phone and dailed her number.

"the number you have called is currently switched off-"

Sighing you cut the call and took a bite of the sandwich. She never switches her phone off unless she's in a class and you know she doesn't have any class today. So why is it off right now? Did something happen?

Standing up you called her again, only to hear the same voice. You spent the next 20 minutes tidying up the house and calling her but your concern only increased when she didn't pick up.

As you were about to clean the windows, your movements halted when you heard the door opening. "is she back? " you mumbled rushing towards the living room and your eyes widened when you found her sitting on the floor, leaned against the front door with tears streaming down her face. "leena? " you gasped rushing towards her and kneeled in front of her "what happened? " you frowned cupping her face to make her look at you and once she did, your heart broke.

"y-y/n" she sobbed hugging you tightly. The last time you saw her cry like this, was at her parent's death anniversary and it broke your heart to see the usually chirpy girl breaking down like this "what's wrong?" you whispered rubbing her back, your arms around her tightening when she buried her face in your shoulder, her sobs getting louder "leena calm down, honey and tell me what happened " you pulled back slightly and wiped her tears "what happened? Where did you go so early? " you asked gently, trying to stay as calm as possible even though your heart was ready to rip out of your chest "s-sang u" she choked up and your eyes widened for a second before you helped her stand up and guided her towards the couch.

After making her drink some water, you sat besides her and asked her again. Fortunately she had calmed down enough speak properly "y-you were right" she sniffled gripping your hand tighter "I should have stopped him from hanging around with those people" your heart stuttered "what do you mean? What happened leena? " you had an idea of what might have happened but you didn't want to think about it. You assured yourself that what you were thinking wouldn't be the case.

But of course your fear came true.

"he has been doing drugs y/n" she whispered, a look of horror on her face which matched your own "a-are you sure? Surely you might have misunderstood-?" you stuttered but your heart dropped when she shook her head, another loud sob leaving her lips "b-but how? " "he has been borrowing money from his friends. But at one point they stopped lending him money because he wouldn't pay them back" she clenched her jaw and burried her face in her hands "so he started to buy drugs from a different dealer. You remember that dealer I told you about?" of course you do.

"he has been buying from him since the last two months without paying and now he's demanding the money back" she whispered the last words and looked at you with teary eyes "he owns that dealer a large sum, y/n. He called me this morning and his voice sounded so panicked so I rushed to his dorm room and he asked me to give him some money. But even I don't have that much right now" she cried quietly "oh god" you whispered hugging her tightly. "h-he threatened sang u that he'll take the money back in his way if he doesn't get it in 3 days" her voice turned more panicked as she hugged you tighter "w-we know his way y/n. What if he-" you shushed her before she completed her sentence.

You both know what she was going to say. It was just a few days ago when he went inside the bars for almost beating a person to death. And you know he's more than capable of doing that again. But your eyebrows furrowed when you remembered what you saw last evening "but leena" you pulled back and told her everything you saw the day before and she smiled bitterly "I saw him giving that dealer a bundle of cash. So why.." she squeezed your hand "that cash was also burrowed" you looked at her with surprise "he took some money from our grandparents last week. But that money was just worth of the drugs he bought yesterday. He still has to pay him back for the last two months. What do I do? " she started crying again and you sighed rubbing her back.

You wanted to curse yourself for even thinking about what you were about to say. But you didn't have any other choice. You know she wouldn't dream of taking money from her grand parents. She already thinks they have done a lot for her and her brother so the idea of borrowing money from them isn't an option.

"leena" You took a deep breath as she looked at you with tearful eyes which widened soon after when you said the next words "I'll go and talk to him" "no" she said firmly "leena-" "no y/n are you crazy? He's dangerous" she hissed "he's not scared of beating people if he doesn't get his money. He'll do anything for money. I don't want you to get hurt because of me" she whispered and you stopped her by gripping her shoulders " I know leena. Trust me, I know he's dangerous. But do we have another choice? He's clearly not scared of police and you don't want your grand parents to know do you? " she shook her head and tried to speak but you didn't let her "I'll just ask him to give us some more time, leena. Surely he can do that? " although it sounded more like a question .

"but what if-" she whimpered shaking her head as fresh tears filled her eyes "don't cry leen. Everything will be fine. I'll ask him for more time and leave" you whispered smiling and hoped that smile didn't show the nervousness you were feeling. She took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly "but I'm coming with you" "no you're not" you stated standing up and she followed soon after "you're thinking of going alone to his place? I think you're forgetting what kind of person he is" she placed her hands on her hips, a determined expression on her face, causing you to sigh "what if he goes after sang u when we're both not with him? " she fell silent "I'll go there alone and you'll stay here with sang u. We shouldn't leave him alone right now leen."

It was a silent conversation that neither of you were willing to acknowledge. What if he does something bad to himself because of fear? What if he does more drugs? These were all the possibilities that you were too scared to acknowledge and it seemed like she knew exactly what you were talking about.

Her face fell and she looked away for a moment before mumbling "I'll stay with him for a few days''you nodded placing a hand on her shoulder ''that would be the best. Don't worry leena. Everything will be fine" you whispered the last words and she nodded wiping a lone tear that managed to escape "please be careful" she whispered before walking towards her room to pack her things.

In the next hour you found yourself standing In front of his front door. You could feel your hands shaking as you forced yourself to take deep breaths. After you made sure that leena was with sang u, you asked him to text you the address and so, now you're standing in front of a small single storey house which was in a relatively bad side of the city. You almost turned back and started walking back home when you noticed a few creepy looking guys staring at you. You even felt like someone was following you but odd enough the moment you stopped in front of his house, that feeling was gone.

"please be careful Noona. Yoongi is a bad guy. He won't hesitate to do anything for his money"

Yoongi

So that's his name.

You exhaled shakily before raising your hand and knocked on the door. For a few seconds, you didn't get any response and that was enough to tempt you to turn around and run back home but of course you weren't gonna do that.

Just as you were about to knock again, you heard some shuffling and a low curse before the door opened and your breath got caught in your throat when he came in your view. Sleepy but sharp eyes, ruffled hair, messy t shirt, it looks like you woke him up. Oh god he won't kill you for waking him up right? But it's 10:30 surely he won't-

"you just gonna stand there and stare at me all day?" your eyes widened. His voice was deep like the depth of the ocean with a little raspiness in it. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes travelled from you face to downwards. "oh um-" you stuttured, your cheeks flaring red as he continued looking at you with those cold and calculating eyes for a moment before mumbling "you lost, sweetheart? " again you blamed the cold weather for the flush on your cheeks.

You weren't gonna let him know that he intimidates you. Taking a deep breath you said "what makes you think I'm lost? " "well" a cold, humorless smile tugged on his lips "it's not everyday I see a girl wearing pink fuzzy socks at my door" if your face was red before then now it feels like it's on fire. You shuffled your feet now feeling really stupid for not changing into something decent before coming here but you came here immediately after dropping leena off.

So here you were wearing a yellow oversized hoodie, pajama pants and pink fuzzy socks along with some slippers. Oh you must look so stupid.

You heard him sigh and looked up to see him already looking at you with irritated eyes "pretty sure you didn't wake me up just to stare at me" you did wake him up.

You interlocked your fingers together to stop them from shaking and said "I'm here to ask you for a favor" he looked at you amused for a moment before you saw his eyes widening for a second "you're sang u's girl aren't you? Seen you around " you're not sure why but you thought his eyes hardened when he said that, although it was gone as soon as it came.

Your eyebrows furrowed "no I'm not-" you cut yourself and sighed "look i-i know he owns you money and it's his fault but don't you think 3 days is too little time to collect that much money?" now he looked less than amused but you still forced yourself to carry on "please at least give us a week I promise we'll pay you the whole amount back" you pleaded "please, yoongi" you whispered when he didn't said anything.

Something flickered in his eyes before he sighed, looking at your form shaking from cold and mumbled "come in doll" your eyes widened but before you could say anything, he was already walking inside and left the door open for you. You very much wanted to decline but he's willing to hear you out. What if this is your last chance?

Groaning quietly you timidly opened the door fully and started walking inside. Removing your slippers you slowly walked in to see a simple but clean living room. Why did you think his house would be dirty?

Your socks claded feet walked on the cold tile as you looked around for any sign of him. You were surprised when he suddenly walked out of what you presumed to be the kitchen with two cups "sit" he mumbled walking past you and sat on the arm chair, setting the cups on the coffee table. Unsure of what to do, you timidly walked towards the couch, the blush rising back on your soft cheeks when his eyes fell on your feet and he smirked which soon hid behind the cup as he took a sip of whatever was in there.

You sat on the other end of the couch to maintain as much distance as possible and looked at anywhere but him as he looked at you over the rim of his cup. The way sang u described his reputation you half expected packets of drugs to be lying around in his house.

"hope you like coffee" you jumped when he suddenly spoke and looked at him with wide eyes before looking at the cup on the table. It's rude to deny the host but right now the host was a drug dealer so "thank you but I'm good" he nodded setting his cup down and leaned back, folding his hands. Normally you find the guys manspreading gross but you hate to admit that he looked anything but gross right now with his tank top revealing his tattooed arms and chest. "so tell me doll" he rasped, "what were you saying? " clearing your throat you looked at him with shaky yet determined eyes "please give us some time to pay you back" those cold eyes were back and looking at you like a predator would look at his prey. "why should I? " a shiver ran down you spine at the coldness in his voice and you gulped down the nerves before saying "h-he made a mistake but he'll make up for it. And he did pay you back the other day... Right?" you whispered uncertainly "i-it's not like he's refusing to pay you. Just give us more time and we'll-" "you keep saying we" you blinked as he cut you off and leaned forward "why is it your business whether he lives or dies of overdose?" you flinched at his words and looked down to blink back the tears forming in your eyes "h-he is my best friend's brother and he is a good person. He just made a mistake so-" you were cut off yet again, this time by his deep chuckle which lacked humor.

"are you pretending not to know, or do you really don't know?" your eyebrows furrowed as he smirked "what do you mean? " "you're that naive huh" he scoffed "sweetheart what he did isn't a mistake. He's been stealing drugs" your eyes widened and you felt you heart drop as he continued "he's been buying from me since 10 months. At first he paid on spot but after some time he started to borrow money to pay for his shit. And then he stopped paying altogether. he's been making empty promises since the last 6 months that he'll pay back everything but then he stopped taking my calls. I stopped selling to him unless he paid back everything he owned me but guess what" he took out a box of cigarettes and a lighter "he's become a fucking addict and started stealing my fucking drugs to get shit faced" he lighted a cigarette and took a long smoke all the while you kept staring at your hands with lips parted and eyes wide "it's not just a mistake any more when he started fucking with my money and my drugs. I do fair business, doll. I don't go around killing people without any reason. He deserved a threat and he got on. And if he doesn't pay me, the next time won't just be a threat"

You didn't noticed when you started breathing heavily. All you knew was that suddenly you were suffocating. There wasn't enough air. Your nails were digging in your palms as you tried to take deep breaths but bitter memories were starting to fill in.

"it was an overdose " the doctor and a police officer looked at you with pitiful eyes " they were abusing their own daughter after getting high" "poor girl.. She's just 7" a nurse whispered and started walking towards you "w-where is mama? " you asked as the nurse crouched in front of you and held your hands gingerly "first let's treat these wounds okay? " she rubbed your cheek and you nodded holding the nurse's hand "some people don't deserve to be parents" "it's an old case. They were bought in many times before. Didn't saw them for a while so I thought they've gotten better-" their voices blocked as the nurse took you to another room. Small cries filled the room as she treated the multiple cigeratte burns on your arms-

"doll?" you were snapped out of your daze when he called you loudly and looked at him with wide, teary eyes. His eyes sharpened when he saw the shine in your eyes and they narrowed soon after when he noticed you tugging the sleeves of your hoodie down again and again.

Clenching his jaw he looked away and mumbled "are you done? Now Get out and tell him that hiding won't do him any good" he stood up and you gasped, leaning forward and gripping his hand "please" you begged "i-I'll do anything you want just give him more time" he sighed and yanked his hand away before looking at you with irritated eyes. You saw his face going blank as he stared at you. But soon you realised that he wasn't staring at your face, but your neck.

Your eyes widened and you pulled the collar of the hoodie properly over your neck to hide the burn marks but it was too late because he already saw them.

His hand clenched and unclenched before he tugged the collar of his t shirt. Suddenly feeling like he was suffocating. "get out" he gritted and you stood up, looking at him with pleading eyes "please-" "you can't do anything for that shit head" he breathed harshly "it's not your business" "it is because it involves my friend" he fell silent, the anger in his eyes growing as you stood there, looking at him with big, fearful eyes "so you're willing to get yourself killed for that friend? " he mocked walking towards you slowly, causing you to take a step back "did you forgot where you're standing?" another step "you marched in all alone in place you could possibly die for the friend who's so fucking coward that he couldn't even come with you? " he snarled and you gasped as your back hit the wall , with his arms caging you against it.

You looked down but he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. A whimper leaving your lips when you saw the fury in his eyes "do you realise what area you're in, all alone at that? " his voice lowered "those shitty people down there are capable of doing things that your pretty little head can't even imagine" he growled lowly. You knew that he's right. You saw them and the look in their eyes as you were walking towards his place. And you knew what they were capable of. "i-I'm sorry" you whispered looking down but you didn't know why you were apologizing in the first place as he breathed angrily "go home. And don't come back" all his warmth left you when he stepped back and only then did you look up to see him walking away.

It took you a second to gather your self but once you did, you all but fleed out of the door. On the way back home, oddly none of the people on the streets were looking at you. It was almost as if they looked scared. You wondered why.

But as you entered your building, you knew why. You saw a glimpse of black hair and sharp eyes as you walked in the elevator. And the pounding of your heart had nothing to do with the nerves.

The three days were up. But as you called leena with a pounding heart, wanting to know if she and sang u were okay, if he paid them a visit, you were very surprised to find out that he in fact didn't. Rather, sang u got a message that said he had 4 days to pay him back.

Sang u was more surprised than relieved. He told leena that in yoongi's world, there was always only one warning. And then the second time were the consequences of not listening to their warning. Leena wasn't talking to sang u. He had not only lied but also stole from people and you hadn't talked to him either. Leena was very thankful to you but she refused to talk to him no matter how much he pleaded. You didn't blame her. He didn't seem like the sang u you had always known.

You dreamt of those cold eyes piercing in yours. And those large, rough hands on your body. It was ridiculous to have that kind of dream of a person who was threatening your friend's life but as you woke up, you felt a small flicker of disappointment after realising that the warmth of the body against yours was nothing but a vivid dream. A dream which didn't leave your mind for the rest of the days but only awakened a strange warmth in the pit of your stomach and wetness In between your thighs.

Leena was visiting her grand parents along with sang u. She still wasn't talking to him but she decided to stay with them for a few days and then come back. She will leave sang u with them because she didn't trusted him to be left alone. So sang u was left juggling between different jobs in busan to collect money.

In a particularly cold night, you were walking home alone after a long day. It was weekend so the streets were busy with people laughing and talking. But even in between the busy streets, you heard that raspy chuckle. It was like it was imprinted in your mind after your conversation two days ago. Despite your mind telling you not to, you followed the sound and it led you to a dark alley. You assured yourself that you'd be fine. There were many people just around the corner. So you decided to peek from behind the wall. And the sight in front of you made you regret the decision immediately.

"oh my god" you gasped clenching your mouth shut with you hands. In front of you was yoongi leaned against the wall with multiple wounds on his face. His hand was pressed against his abdomen tightly and you could see blood seeping from his hand. In front of him were two men standing with wicked smiles. One was holding a bloody knife. Your eyes widened when the they noticed you standing there and you heard yoongi curse loudly when one of them started walking towards you.

Your brain was telling you to run but your legs were frozen and the man was getting closer "leave her out of this!" yoongi growled and you whimpered in pain when the man gripped your hair tightly and dragged you in the dirty alley. You gasped when he pushed you hard, causing you to stumble against the wall but instead of the hard impact, you felt a strong arm wrapping around you before you were pulled in a warm and firm chest.

Gasping softly you looked up to see yoongi glaring at the men with his jaw tight "y-yoongi" he didn't look at you but his hold around you tightened "let her go. You wanted me and you have me. You don't need her here" he gritted and you felt a sick feeling inside you when the men laughed "looks like min finally got a girl" one of them said and you dared to look at him but yoongi placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you to his chest, as if to hide you from their eyes "she's a fine little thing isn't she? Care to share, yoongi?" you could hear his pounding heart and his chest heaved as his breathed heavily.

You gripped his jacket as he pushed you behind him, a whimper leaving your lips when your eyes caught a glimpse of the wound on his abdomen "you had your fun didn't you? Now unless you want to die here, let us go" it was a threat, a warning,and only a fool would ignore it. Their smiles dropped when yoongi pulled his jacket back revealing the silver of his gun.

It seemed like the two men were unarmed and of course they couldn't do anything with a knife when yoongi was capable of shooting them dead in a second. So taking a step back, they scoffed "until next time min" your face was buried in his back so you didn't notice when they disappeared but you flinched when yoongi turned around and cupped your back "you okay? " he mumbled and you shakily nodded even though you were anything but okay. Your whole body was shaking and tears were staining your cheeks.

It seemed like he didn't believe you but still didn't said anything as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. You welcomed the warmth with a grateful sigh but soon you realised he must be cold too. Looking up at him, your breath got caught in your chest. He was still breathing heavily and he was looking at you with eyes that held so many emotions. They looked dark with unsaid emotions. His hold around You was possessive as he took a look around the alley to make sure you were alone and safe. "a-aren't you cold too? " you whispered going to take off the jacket but he squeezed your arm "keep it on"

For a second you were caught in his eyes. Neither of you said a word and as he slowly leaned his forehead against yours but as soon as the loudness of the busy street hit your ears, it seemed like the coldness in his eyes returned. They were as cold as the day you went to his house. "I'll walk you home" he mumbled and stepped back but a gasp left your lips when his lips parted in a low groan and his hand clenched the wound "oh god'' you whispered rushing towards him and held his arm.

He froze when you took off the jacket and helped him wear it. Only when you went to place his arm around your shoulder, did he react. "what the fuck are you doing? " he growled lowly pushing you away and for a second, hurt passed by your eyes but you failed to see that he noticed it as his jaw clenched. You looked up at him with pleading eyes "you need to go to the hospital yoongi y-you're -" "no hospital " he snarled and you flinched "o-okay no hospital but let me take you home please. You're injured '' You whimperd and his eyes softened for a moment "why do you care?" he said quietly "won't you be relieved if I drop dead? Your friend will be free too" he smiled humorless. That smile always managed to send a chill down your spine. But right now it only squeezed your heart painfully "please yoongi" you begged as tears filled your eyes "you can't die"

For some reason, it warmed his cold heart to see you holding him so gently. Your words sounded so soft and caring. Full of warmth. Something that he wasn't used to. He was almost surprised when you said that. You were the first person who didn't want him to die. If it was anyone else, he was sure he would be left to die in this cold night. But as you zipped up the jacket to hide the wound and wrapped your arm around his torso, the warmth only increased. And for the first time in life, he was feeling scared.

As you gently helped him sit in the taxi, an ugly side of him told him not to get used to the feeling of warmth. That you'll end up leaving too. But as you sat besides him and told the driver to hurry with teary eyes, he wanted to get used to the feeling. He wanted to get used to you. That was the last thought in his mind before darkness consumed him.

The first thing he felt was a stinging pain in his abdomen. The last second he felt was the warmth besides him. A raspy groan left his lips as he opened his eyes , his hand going to rub his eyes-

Well at least it tried to but he frowned feeling a weight on his left hand. Sighing tiredly he turned his head only to see you sitting besides him. His eyes widened as he saw you. You were leaned against the bed frame, sound asleep and holding his hand tightly. His lips parted as he slowly took you in. You looked uncomfortable in that position. But still in the clothes you wore last night, and your hair a mess of bed head, you looked gorgeous.

So fucking gorgeous

He felt his heart beat increasing when you made a soft noise in your sleep and held his hand tighter as if it weren't tight enough already. And as he was admiring how soft you looked with strands of his falling over your face, a pounding headache interrupted him. He let out a low groan, his free hand going to rub his forehead. Fuck he really passed out last night.

Although he wouldn't admit it, all he wanted to do was lay there and keep admiring you but you looked so uncomfortable and he was really fucking thirsty. Making sure to be as gentle as possible he slowly started getting up, stifling a groan at the pain in his abdomen which was all bandaged up nicely.

Huh

Now that he was sitting, he could see a bowl full of water and a small towel besides it on the side table. What happened last night? Biting his lip he gently removed his hand from yours, his hand clenching around nothing at the sudden empty feeling. Standing up he walked over to your side and slowly picked you up despite the piercing pain shooting through his whole body. After setting you on the bed gently he found himself reaching out to push your hair out of your face. But with a tight jaw, he stopped himself and moved away from you. He needs to get out of here before he does something that he'll regret.

It had only been 15 minutes since he woke up and his morning is already ruined. How long has it been since he felt the soft and warm presence of a woman by his side? Sure he does have sex now and then but they're just that. Just sex. The means to take out his stress and frustration. He's not the type to stay and fucking cuddle afterwards. He leaves. And he never allows a woman in his room much less on his bed. So why the fuck is he letting you sleep on his bed all soft and curled up under his covers?

As he drank some cold water with a scowl, pieces of memories from last night started arriving back. He was passed out but he woke up once or twice in the middle of the night. And both the time he saw you. He almost thought it was dream. But you were here right now and sleeping in his room. In his personal space.

His eyes half opened only seeing a blurry image of your face but soon it cleared up enough to see the concern in your eyes before his own fell shut again. But he could hear your voice "you're burning up" you whispered before he heard some shuffling and after a few seconds he felt something cold pressing against his forehead.

Shit, how long has it been since someone took care of him? Did you stay up the whole night because of him? Again, he hated himself for liking the warmth creeping inside him.

"yoongi?" he jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and turned around, his face now void of emotions as you rubbed your eyes, yawning. His hand clenched and he looked away as you started walking towards him. He resisted the urge to step back when you stopped in front of him, close. Too close. Fuck he could smell the scene of jasmine on you.

"how are you feeling?" you yawned again as you pressed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature "the fever is gone" you whispered with a small smile before looking up at him with big, doe eyes and his jaw clenched when he felt his arousal increasing. You looked so innocent. So at ease like you aren't standing in front a drug dealer in his house. You had your guard down. He could see it. Why though? Shouldn't you be feeling scared right now? He still remembers the terrified look on your face when you were here for the first time.

You bite your lip. Innocently when he didn't said anything. But fuck the thoughts in his head were anything but innocent. Unknowingly his gaze travelled down to your soft, plush lips. Red and inviting. So inviting that he leaned his head down a little, as if in daze. But when your eyes widened and a soft gasp left you, it was like someone threw a cold bucket on him.

What the fuck is he doing?

Just three days ago you were begging and pleading him to give that asshole more time and he hated himself for doing it. And now he's standing in his kitchen with you, having wicked thoughts about what would happen if he just said fuck it and had a small taste of those sweet lips? To bury himself in you until all of his senses were filled with jasmine. To wrap his hand around those lush locks-

You looked startled when he suddenly pulled back and looked away with his jaw tight. And your hand reached out to him "yoongi are you okay?-" "stop" he gritted out, his frustration only increasing when you looked at him with confusion "stop what?" you said uncertainly.

Stop saying my name with the sweet, honey like voice.

Stop caring for me

Stop looking at me with those eyes

Stop here before I taint you with my darkness

Stop-

These were the things he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to even though he felt like the most selfish fucking jerk.

He jerked back when you lightly touched his arm and his eyes flared with unsaid emotions before he looked away. "go home doll" his voice sounded the same it did on the first day you came here. Cold, and void of any emotions.

He turned his back to you, his jaw clenching when he caught the glimpse of hurt on your face. He shouldn't have done this. Shouldn't have let you stay here. Shouldn't have let you sleep on his bed. You almost got yourself killed last night because of him dammit.

"m-make sure to get rest" you whispered timidly and he heard some shuffling, you were collecting your things. You were leaving. And you might never come back. "goodbye yoongi" he heard your voice. He recognized the hurt in it. And it took every ounce of self control left inside him to not turn around and call you. To not hold your hand.

Just as you were about to open the door, his eyes caught something "wait" he turned around to see you looking at him with what he recognized as a glimmer of hope. His heart clenched. "it's snowing" your lips parted as you looked at the window "it's snowing" you repeated in a hushed whisper before a soft smile brightened your face "first snow of the year" you looked at him and he felt his heart pounding once again.

"stay until it stops. I'll drop you off later" he mumbled and turned around, walking towards his room, half to avoid your warm eyes happy because of the snow.

Damn snow.

For some reason he was feeling relieved.

And he knows he was going to regret stopping you.

He was really fucking right.

You looked uncomfortable in your dress so he told you to go take a shower and that he'll put some clothes for you to wear, on the bed.

The only clothes he found which would fit your small form was an old full sleeved t shirt and black pajama pants that he hadn't worn in ages. The t shirt was long enough to cover your thighs but it was really fucking cold so he digged in his closet until he found some pants which will fit you.

A long groan left his lips as he sat on the dinning table with a cup of coffee in front of him. First he let you sleep in his bedroom and now he was letting you shower in his bathroom. He could hear the shower running along with a soft hum of whatever song you were singing. He didn't knew the name but from today onwards it was his favorite song.

A small smirk tugged on his lips when he remembered how you shrieked when the cold water hit your body. He had to stand outside of the door and explain how the water turns hot because well, his shower is old and he can't be bothered to have it repaired.

Cold water hitting your body-

You were naked. And just two doors away from him. Fucking hell.

It's like he's not a old ass grown man but a fucking teenager who's getting random erections.

Drowned in his own thoughts he didn't heard the door opening and only when you called him, did he looked up "y-yoongi?" he froze.

Of course the smallest clothes he owned were still huge on you but still, you looked so fucking beautiful. Your hair were wet and the white t shirt didn't do much to hide your pebbled nipples. He looked away with his jaw tight and stood up "hope you like coffee" it was the same thing he told you 3 days ago.

You smiled lightly and nodded hesitantly sitting on the chair. While he was busy preparing your coffee, you found yourself looking around his home. Now that you think about it, this is the first time you were properly looking at his house. The first time you came here, you were so nervous you spent half the time looking at your hands. last night was full of frenzy and you were with him in his bedroom the whole time.

You were and slept in a guy's bedroom. A blush rose on your cheeks. You busied yourself with looking around to avoid any...inappropriate thoughts coming in your mind.

The living room was simple but just so him. The minimal furniture which only consisted of a couch, an arm chair and a small cabinet. Hmm now that you think about it, what can one possibly store in such a small cabinet? There was also small fire place too. Then his bedroom. It was perfectly him. Small but cozy with a queen sized bed, a closet, a side table and a bathroom.

But there were no personal touches. No photo frames hanging around, no such thing thing that looked like a hobby.

You mumbled a small thank you when he placed the cup in front of you and you wrapped your hands around it, sighing at the warmth.

He watched you for a moment as you took a sip and nodded with wide eyes. Hiding a small smirk he drank his own coffee as you continued looking around the house. You looked like a curious cat.

He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you rubbing your feet together and stood up without a word. You watched him questioningly as he walked in his room and came back a minute later. Without any words he tossed a pair of white fuzzy socks on your lap.

Avoiding your bright smile, he sat down and mumbled "it was a gift. Never wore it before" "why? It's so comfortable and soft" you happily pulled the socks on your feet before wiggling them. He scoffed smiling fondly and looked away "you like it that much? " "of course I do. I always wear them at home" you nodded as if you were speaking the obvious.

After you were done, you insisted to wash both of your cups but he pinned you with a glare so dark you didn't dare to ask again. So watching him do the dishes, you found yourself asking "do you live alone? " he nodded.

"do you have a pet? " he shook his head

"I had a cat once but after she died I couldn't bring myself to have another pet" he nodded.

"do you like coffee? " he nodded

"do you like tea? " he shook his head

"do you like macaroons? " he shook his head

"do you like tangerines? " he nodded

"do you like winter? " he shook his head

"do you like cheese? " he nodded.

You know the questions were getting ridiculous but you were bored and your phone was charging and it looked like the snow won't stop anytime soon. Besides he was answering your every question.

"do you have a girlfriend?" you both froze. Why in the world did you ask that? It just came out of your mouth!

Slowly, you saw his shoulders shaking as he laughed. Not a scoff or a chuckle but a full laugh.

"why? " he smirked turning around "you interested in my dating life, doll? " your cheeks flushed as you looked away. Goodness it's only been 3 days since you know each other properly and yet you asked him that. "n-no? " you stutured "of course not why would I? I was just speaking nonsense just forget I said that-"

Your words halted when he started walking towards you and your breath got caught in your throat when he leaned down, his hands gripping the chair as he leaned his face towards you until your lips were inches away "no I don't" he rasped and you nodded looking away, unable to form a sentence.

You expected him to move away. But when he didn't, you dared to look at him again and when you did, your heart started pounding so hard you half expected it to rip out of your chest.

He was staring at you, his eyes travelled between your own before falling down on your lips which you nibbled nervously. The look in his eyes was so dark you feared you'd drown in them if you looked any longer. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn't look away. It was as if he was pulling you in.

Neither of you noticed when you both leaned against each other but only when his lips were inches away from yours, did he spoke. His voice hoarse "tell me to stop, doll" not trusting your voice, you chose to shake your head instead. Breathing heavily he leaned his forehead against yours "tell me to stop, angel. Stop me. I'm hanging on a very loose thread which is about to snap" he groaned out the last words as you timidly wrapped your arms around his neck while his own inched towards your waist. "don't stop" you whispered, your eyes falling shut as he leaned down, but his lips didn't touch yours.

Surprised and slightly disappointed you opened your eyes only for a soft gasp to escape your lips when his lips touched you neck. He peppered small kisses on your collar bone, your neck, all the bare skin he could find.

"fuck" he rasped burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. The scent of jasmine was very faint but it was still there. His cock stirred with arousal when he found his scent on you. You smelled like him. Fucking hell.

His self control finally snapped when you let out a soft moan of his name, your hands tugging him closer to him "y-yoongi" you gasped and a growl left his lips as he wrapped a tattooed arm around your waist and pulled you up, his lips attacking your neck. "oh-" you whimpered as he sucked and bite your sensitive skin until he found that sweet spot which had you gushing. "there it is" he smirked against your skin as he sucked deep marks on your neck, your collar bone, all the while you could only gasp and moan helplessly.

"fucking hell" he grunted with an arm wrapping around your waist, and the other one under your knees before he picked you up swiftly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a soft sigh leaving both of your lips when he finally pressed his lips on yours.

It was like he could breath again as he finally tasted your lips. They tasted as sweet as they looked. And it was driving him crazy. Your small gasps and moans as you let him devour you. Your fingers tugging his locks. He bite your bottom lip gently as he walked towards the couch and when your lips parted in a gasp, he took it as an opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. A low moan left his lips as he laid you on the couch, you legs parting to make space for him and both of you moaned simultaneously when his hard cock fit snugly against your clothes pussy. "yoongi" you signed your back arching when his hand cupped your breast, giving it a small squeeze before it traveled downwards, to the part which was still pure.

You opened your eyes confused when he suddenly stopped and your lips parted when you saw his face. He looked in pain. He looked conflicted and that made your heart drop in panic "y-yoongi? " you whispered hesitantly ''are you okay? " he looked at you for a moment before humming "yes" he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead "I'm perfect"

Was he okay? No. He kissed you with fervour, his heart squeezing painfully when the hope in your eyes returned. Fuck he shouldn't do this. He should stop before it's too late. Because he knows he won't be able to let you go. He's angry at himself for not being able to pull away. You don't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you. You're a good girl and he doesn't want you to waste your time on someone like him.

Someone like him.

A bitter taste left in his mouth at the thought as his hand inched closer to your most intimate part. A soft moan left your lips when he rubbed circles over your clothed cunt. The ache in his heart deepening as you looked at him with eyes full of trust, full of warmth, full of, he dared to say, affection.

''is this okay? " he panted as his fingers tugged your pants and his jaw clenched when you nodded. He wanted you to stop him. Because only then will be he able to stop. "dammit" he hissed as you raised your hips allowing him to pull the pants down. A deep, guttural groan left his lips when your glistening pussy came in the view of his hungry eyes. It took everything inside him to not take you right then and there.

"y-yoongi" you whispered taking his attention "what's wrong? We don't have to do this, you know that right? " he mumbled caressing your hair and you nodded gripping his t shirt "i-i want to it's just that... " "tell me doll" he murmured kissing your lips softly "I've never done this before" his eyes widened for a second before the darkness inside them returned "you're a virgin? " his voice was deep and possessive, one that made you whimper in want as you nodded with a small whisper "yes" "fuck" he cursed under his breath, his lips caressing your jaw, placing small kisses here and there as he rubbed your inner thigh "is this okay? " he mumbled lightly grazing your weeping cunt. He had to stifle a groan at the feeling of your arousal on his fingers. You were drenched. "yes" you gasped as he rubbed your cunt slowly and gently, your wetness only increasing as sucked the sweet spot on your neck.

Your mouth hanged open at the foreign feeling as he slowly pushed a long finger inside your tightness "y-yoongi" you gasped gripping his shoulders tightly as he thrusting his finger in an out of your cunt,groaning at the wetness. "you okay?" he rasped slowly pushing another finger in and you felt your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he stretched you out. The only response you could manage was a small nod as the pain started disappearing, only leaving a trail of delicious pleasure behind. "f-feels so good" you whined, your hips starting to rock against his hand as if they had a mind of their own.

A dark chuckle left his lips as he felt you clenching around his fingers and he increased his speed, his fingers curling until he found your sweet spot. "oh! -" a High pitched moan left your lips when his fingers brushed against that spot causing him to smirk "right here? " he thrusted against that same spot again and again, the hardness of his cock starting to ache but he didn't pay any mind to it. Not when you were looking so fucking beautiful. Like a goddess in his own fucked up hell.

He leaned down, his lips crushing against yours as your pussy pulsed, your juice dripping down your thigh as he continued fucking you with his fingers. ''y-yoongi i-it feels like-" you gasped shakily as your High approached rapidly and when he added a third finger, you exploded.

"cum for me sweetheart. I got you" he whispered against your ear as your back arched and your mouth hanged open as your first orgasm wrapped around you like an euphoric pleasure. He held you until you came down from your high, your body still shaking a little when he pulled back and looked at you with soft eyes as you panted, hiding your face in his chest.

"you okay? " he mumbled rubbing your cheek, a smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes and looked at him hazily "yes" you nodded gripping his shirt and pulled him closer. A deep blush rose on your cheek when you felt his still very hard cock pressing against your thigh and a fond look replaced the usual coldness in his eyes as he kissed your forehead.

You looked at him with an innocent smile, oblivious to the emotions raging inside him as he kept staring at you with an unreadable look on his face. You were about to say something when his phone rang and he cursed under his breath. "it's okay. It might be important" you smiled shyly watching as he nodded and stood up with a long kiss on your lips.

You pulled the blanket kept under the coffee table over your lower body and waited as he talked to someone.

"sang u paid the money in full"

Yoongi felt his heart drop. The bitter feeling inside him returned as he glanced back to see you looking at some book, completely oblivious and In your own little world.

"hyung" yoongi forced himself to look away from you and turned his attention back to the conversation "yes okay" he mumbled absentmindedly "leave him alone now. And don't sell him anything from now on" "got it" hoseok replied before hanging up.

Yoongi was left with a hollow feeling inside him. He was used to that feeling but when he was with you, that feeling seemed to disappear. He clenched his hand,walking towards the couch and you brightened up when he came back in your view "is everything okay? " you probably noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Fuck

He nodded stifly and looked at the window "the snow stopped" your eyes widened slightly before you nodded "it stopped a while ago" you smiled tentatively "what's wrong-" "get dressed. I'll drop you home" surprise and hurt filled your eyes as you watched him pick up your pants. He handed them to you without a word and went to his room while you were left staring at the closed door.

He came out a second later with a coat and a jacket in his hands to see you still in the same position. "I'll wait for you outside" he mumbled placing the coat besides you and walked past without another word "did I do something-" you flinched when he slammed the door shut. Tears filling your eyes as you stared at the coat besides you. Sniffling softly you stood up and started walking inside the bathroom to clean up a bit.

After you were done, you opened the front door and walked out to see him standing there leaned against the wall with a cigarette in between his lips. You looked away when he looked at you, not noticing the pained expression on his face as he noticed the redness under your eyes.

He silently locked the door and walked to his car with you following him. You had worn the coat and your heart squeezed when his scent filled your senses.

The car ride was uncomfortably silent with you staring out of the window and watching the scenery change. Why did it feel like this was the last time you were seeing him? Why did it feel like you were never going to come here again? You gripped the coat tightly when he stopped in front of your apartment. You don't know how he knows your address but you weren't surprised.

You know it was time to leave but neither of you made any move. The silence was getting too much. It was staring to get suffocating and you knew you had to break it. "so-" "don't come back, doll" you were taken aback at both his words and the coldness in his voice. He looked at you with the same cold and calculated eyes as he did on the first day. And it bought fresh tears in your eyes. You looked away before he could see you crying like an idiot but it was too late. His hand clenched around the steering wheel and he looked away with a harsh breath "why? " your small whisper broke his heart. "because you don't have any reason to" you looked at him with confusion in your eyes "your friend paid the money" a humorless smile tugged on his lips when your own parted in surprise "now you don't need to worry about me killing him and I don't have any reason to see you again" you could only look at him with teary eyes as he spoke those harsh words "I got my money so-" "so you don't need me anymore? " you whispered as a few tears ran down your cheek.

It was like someone pierced his heart with a dagger when he those tears. Fuck. He hand twitched by his side as he resisted the urge to wipe your tears. He was the one who caused them in the first place. He had no right to touch you. No right To keep you in his heart.

Fortunately it wasn't hard for him to maintain his expression. So with a blank face, he mumbled "yes" his heart which had finally started beating again, broke even further as a small sob left your lips which you hide behind your hand "yes I don't need you any more"

He knew that he could never forget the look in your eyes as you looked at him with pain, anger, hurt, which matched his own eyes. His hand reached for you when you opened the door and stepped out. But he was too late because you were rushing inside the building. His eyes clenched shut when the image of your teary eyes came in his mind and he clenched his hand before slamming it against the steering wheel "fucking hell!" he roared before rubbing his face with both hands.

The pain of his heart was much stronger than the one of the knife pierced in his skin.

"y/n?" leena gasped, rushing towards you as you closed the door and leaned back against it, your face covered in tears and sobs racking your body "oh honey what happened?" she whispered taking you in her arms "leen" you sobbed burying your face in her shoulder and she held you tighter "what happened?" she rubbed your back as you both slided down the floor "h-he-" you choked up while leena cupped your face and you gripped her wrists "he what? " she looked at you worriedly. She has never seen you cry. At least like this. Your sobs sounded so pained that it made her tear up too "i-i thought we were s-something-" another sob "i-i don't know what happened" you buried your face in your hands.

She had no idea what happened between you and him. So the only thing she could do was hold you until you passed out exhausted from crying .

Leena sighed closing the door gently as to not wake you up and laid on the couch. She knew who you were talking about. You had texted her last night to tell her where you were staying. And although she was worried, you were fully capable of taking care of yourself. After all you wouldn't spend a night at his place if you didn't trust him. She knew you were feeling something for him. But she had no idea that your feeling for him were this deep. So deep for you to cry like this.

It has been a week since that day. In that week you didn't hear anything from him. Which left you to think of every possible scenario. Did you use you? That was the worst one. On that day when you woke up at dinner time with a pouding headache. After dinner you told her everything that happened, leaving one part out. You didn't want her worry for you when she already had so much on her plate. Her relation with sang u was only getting worse. When yoongi told you that sang u paid the money back, you didn't give it much thought because well, you were heart broken. But the next day leena told you that sang u asked their grandparents for money because he couldn't handle all the jobs. That only made leena more angry because she had already made it clear that it was his fault and responsibility and he was not allowed to ask them for money.

But he still did. Now leena has made it clear that she won't talk to him unless he pays back the money. So sang u is still in busan and doing lesser jobs than before to slowly pay them back. Your heart broke to see her so sad. She even said that sang u has changed. And maybe he had.

But he was the last person in your mind right now.

You had pretended to be perfectly fine the next day but you knew that leena didn't believe you. And you were glad that she didn't bought it up again. But despite pretending everything was fine, your heart was breaking a little every time your hopes that maybe he'll show up today, crushed.

For a whole week you waited for him. Surely he must have some kind of explanation? That was what you've been telling yourself. But you couldn't take it any longer.

As you were walking inside the building, you noticed leena standing by the gate and hoped that she wouldn't notice the tremble in your smile. "what are you doing here?" you asked and she smiled at you "just here to pick my babes up" a small but genuine giggle left your lips as she hooked her arm around yours. You both started walking towards the elevator but what you didn't notice was that she was glancing by her shoulder again and again.

You notice the change in her expression as you both stepped inside the elevator "is everything okay? " she looked at you startled before looking at the elevator doors closing and sighed mumbling "don't make me regret this"

You panted, running down the stairs as fast as you could, Leena's words running in your mind

"I've been noticing him behind you every time you came home since a few days. At first I thought I was wrong so I waited for you by the gate. And I was right. He was there y/n. He has been there since that day."

You hoped you weren't late as you rounded the wall and ran towards the gate. What if you were late? What if he was gone?

He wasn't

Yoongi's eyes widened when he saw you running towards him and he hoped you hadn't seen him as he sat in cat and speeded out of the area. He knew this was stupid. He shouldn't be here. But he couldn't help it. What if those two guys saw you when you were alone? You were safe as long as you were with him. But what if you ran into them when he wasn't by your side? That was the reason he had been silently walking behind you at a distance as you walked home. Yes he felt like an absolute creep but it didn't matter.

He thought there was no chance he would get caught.

How wrong he was.

He swears he almost had a fucking heart attack when he saw you running towards him.

Leena caught up with you, panting even more as she touched your arm "i-is he here?" she wheezed, her eyes widened when you sniffled shaking your head "he's gone''you whispered wiping the tear that managed to escape and looked at her with a determined face "I'm going to see him" "no you're not" she said firmly "it's getting dark y/n. There's a possibility of snowing and you told me he lives in a bad area!" "leena" you grabbed her shoulders "I need to see him. I'll take a taxi. Please" you begged "I need to see him" she sighed closing her eyes "can't you go tomorrow? " "I'm scared I won't be able to see him again if I don't go now" her eyes widened as the realisation set in "you love him" she whispered taking in your eyes. And now she knew that she wouldn't be able to stop you no matter what she did.

You had to walk a small distance because the driver refused to go in the area so you were left with a pounding heart and cold limbs. The sky was almost dark and it looked like it was about to snow soon. How stupid you are.

"yoongi!" your fist pounded against the wooden door as you called him "I know you're in there!" you shouted with a trembling form "open the door, I saw your car!" no answer.

Fresh, angry tears filled your eyes "you can't just hide in there after doing all those things!" another pound "stop being a coward and talk to me! " again no answer.

A few tears glided down your flushed cheeks as your voice got lower and lower "I know you were there yoongi" you sniffled, your voice coming out whispered as your fist slammed against the door in a weak thump "I know you didn't mean those things. So stop hiding from me please"

His heart broke with yours.

"if you don't open the door now then I'll assume that you don't want anything to do with me" you sniffled "I won't see you again" isn't that what he wanted? So why was his heart breaking so painfully?

You waited for a few more minutes, but your tears ran free when he didn't open the door "okay. I got your answer" you whispered " I won't bother you again"

His heart dropped in panic but he didn't make any move to stop you as he heard your steps disappearing.

You sniffled wiping your tears as you continued walking away from his house. Snow was starting to fall and the sky was fully dark so you doubted you'd get any taxi here. So you opted to walk a little further down the street in hopes that there will be atleast one taxi on the main door.

"isn't that yoongi's girl?" "I think she is" your heart beat increased when you heard hushed whispers and noticed two men leaned against a wall "did he dump her?" one of them chuckled and you increased your speed, clutching your phone tightly "who cares. She's a fine little thing. Maybe we can get some tonight" you forced yourself not to cry as you heard them laugh but your heart dropped when one of them suddenly blocked your way. "hey doll face" your hands trembled as you took a step back, only for him to step forward.

Yoongi. You need yoongi.

Your panic only increased when he blowed the cigeratte's smoke on your face causing you to fall in a fit of cough as you took a few steps back. But suddenly, you noticed the man's eyes widening slightly before your back bumped in a chest and a familiar arm wrapped around your waist.

You almost cried out when he spoke "do we have a problem?" his arm around you tightened when you slumped against him in relief. "y-yoongi" the man's smile was fake and his eyes showed resentment as he took a step back "no problem" he raised a hand to show he didn't mean any harm. You heard yoongi scoff before he gave the man a small nod and turned around with you in his arms "let's go home sweetheart" he mumbled kissing the side of your head.

You could hear his heart pounding and you noticed his whole body was tensed as he mumbled "don't look back, doll" you could only nod and some of the tension left his body when his house came in your view. He opened the door and pushed you in before taking a look around the street and Walking inside too. You saw him lock the door and your bottom lip trembled when he turned around and looked at you with so much anger in his eyes.

"are you out of your mind!?" he growled out each word with every step he took in front you, until he was standing inches away from you "what would have happened if I didn't came there when I did?" his jaw was tight when he gripped your arms and pulled you towards him. A soft gasp left your lips when he pulled you in his chest and his arms around your form tightened when he realised you were shaking. "it could have gotten a lot worse" he gritted as you gripped his shirt, feeling his heart pounding and his chest heaving as he breathed heavily "but it didn't" you whispered pulling back slightly and a muscle in his jaw ticked at your words. As much as he wanted to stand there and hold you in his arms, to assure himself that you were okay,He noticed that you were still shaking.

"fuck you're trembling" he pulled back, swiftly pulling the throw blanket and wrapped it around your form before going to light the fire in the fireplace. All the while, you stood there looking at him as he rushed in his room after lighting the fire and came back a second later with another, more thicker blanket. "yoongi I'm fine-" "shut your mouth" he gave you a glare so dark that you didn't dare to open your mouth as he wrapped you up in the thick blanket.

After he was sure that your trembles had subsided, only then did he allowed himself to breath. You watched him unsure as he turned his back on you and rubbed his face. Frustration clearly visible in his voice "didn't I tell you not to come here again?" you almost cowered under his stare but then remembered why you came here in the first place. Slowly, anger rose inside you "if you didn't want me to come here then why were you following me?" he flinched at the sharpness of your tone, his eyes softening when he saw the unshed tears in your eyes "that was for your safety-" "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself yoongi-" "is that why you walked in here all alone when it was getting dark?" now it was your turn to flinch, a tear escaping your eyes which you wiped angrily "you don't get to act like this after how you treated me last week" you jabbed a finger on his chest as your bottom lip trembled "you can't pretend to care about me after using me and throwing me away-" before you could complete your sentence, his lips crashed on yours and he pushed you against the nearest wall he could find.

You could almost feel the heat of anger radiating from his body as he kissed you with fevour. It was not a sweet and gentle kiss. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you. He kissed you like a starved man. He sucked and bite your lips until they were raw and red. Only when you squeezed his shoulder, did he pull back, breathing heavily.

"used you?" he growled sucking the sweet spot in your neck harshly causing you to let out a broken moan "throw you away?" another growl, his hand holding the back of your neck as he pulled you in another rough kiss. "you have no fucking idea how much I regretted pushing you away. And don't forget this, doll. I'll rather burn myself alive before I even think about hurting you" with that, he was gone.

"yoongi-" you reached for him as he pulled away like he was burned but his words halted your actions "what if-" he looked at you with blood shot eyes and you realised that the wetness on your cheek wasn't from your tears but his own. "what if that fucker was armed? You know I never step out of this house without my gun. But you're making me do things that I've never done before" he looked pained, so pained that it hurt your heart "when I ran out of this house I thought I would never see you again. Even though that would be better, I wanted to be selfish. I've never wanted to be this selfish before but right now I want you so bad that I'm willing to break my rules for you"

He breathed heavily as he looked at you with raw emotions "you're going to be the death of me angel" he whispered "and thank fuck because I would die a happy man if you'd be the one killing me" something inside you snapped and you did something that you'd never dream of doing. Pushing the blankets off of you ran towards him and crushed your lips on his. His arms caught you effortlessly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him with every unsaid emotion. "fuck" he panted against your lips as you pushed him until you both were standing in front of the fire place and only then did you pulled back, giggling breathlessly when he chased your lips.

Cupping his face you looked at him nervously, the earlier courage slowly melting away "I want you,yoongi'' You whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours "I want all of you. Even the side that you think is ugly" he shook his head, his hands desperately pulling you closer despite his actions "I won't be able to let you go after this, angel. I don't dese-" "yes you do" you said firmly, your arousal increasing as he looked at with eyes dark with lust and something else that didn't dared to name "take me" you whispered before softly pressing your lips on his own.

A small gasp left his lips, his hands shaking as he slowly pulled the sweater off of your body, before pulling back for a second to yank his jacket off. You looked at him nervously as his fingers slowly pulled the strings of your top "is this okay? " he murmured, staring in your eyes as the strings came off, revealing your cleavage and something that you wanted to hide. You nodded nervously and only then did his eyes fell on your chest. You held his hand when his face went blank and even though you wanted to cover yourself and hide under that big blanket, you took a step back and pulled the top over your head, before letting it fall on the ground.

Yoongi's lips parted as your bra claded chest came in his view. But that wasn't what took his attention. You timidly folded your arms over your stomach as he stared at the burn marks on your forearms and shoulders. There were a few of them on your wrist and the lower part of your neck too. That was the reason you always wore clothes that covered your arms and neck.

When he didn't said anything, your self consciousness started increasing "a-are they ugly?" your timid whisper broke him out of the spell and he took a sharp breath at your words. A darkness unfurled in his eyes. Without saying anything, he yanked his t shirt off, letting it fall on the floor and turned around.

His eyes fell shut when you gasped, a small whisper leaving your lips "oh yoongi" he didn't turn around when he heard you walking towards him. Nor did he move when you lightly grazed his back where multiple cigeratte burns along with some scars were scattered. He flinched when you pressed your lips on one of the scar, his hand clenching by his side as you kissed another burn mark, then another, and another, until he could feel your warmth all the way in his heart. He slowly turned around in your arms and cupped your face, before kissing you with every ounce of passion he could gather. He wanted you to know how much he appreciates you. How much he longed for you. How much he loved-

His heart started pounding at the realisation as he gently pulled you down with him. A soft sigh leaving your lips at the warmth of both his body, and the fire besides you both as you laid on the soft carpet. Your breath hitched when his fingers wrapped around the strap of your white lace bra and when you gave a small nod, he gently pulled you up and unhooked the bra with one hand before letting it fall on the floor. your breath quickened as his eyes took in your full breast, his lips pulling you in a deep kiss while his hand massaged your breast causing a soft sigh to leave your lips.

"yoongi... " you sighed,running your hands through his hair as his kisses trailed downwards, kissing along your chest before taking on of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arched as he made sure to give the other one the same attention, and once he was satisfied, he lips traveled else where.

Tears filled your eyes when you realised he was kissing the burn marks. The one that you hated. The one that made you feel ugly. "I want all of you too" he said hoarsely as you covered your face with your hands, nodding shakily. Yoongi chose to show you he meant what he said with his actions. His fingers danced over your soft skin and he gave the softness of your belly a fond caress before his fingers inched closer to the button of your Jeans "raise your hips for me, love" he mumbled kissing over your belly button and you did as he said, allowing him to take if your pants and leaving you in a pair of white panties which were soaked "fuck" he rasped, pressing a kiss on your clothed cunt and relishing in your shaky gasp.

"relax and let me make you feel good, angel" he murmured looking at you for a moment to make sure you were alright and when you nervously reached out for him, his hand gripped yours firmly but gently. Your eyes clenched shut when he took off your panties, leaving you in your most vulnerable form in front of him. "are you okay?" he mumbled and your heart soared. You lost count of how many times he made sure you were okay. "yes" you whispered looking at him with a timid smile which he returned with a soft one of his own.

A loud gasp left your lips when he kissed your cunt before gripping your hips and pulling you in until his face was buried in between your thighs. Your eyes fell shut at the new feeling as he sucked your clit like a starved man eating his last meal. His eyes closed at the tangy taste of your arousal and a guttural groan left his lips as you gushed even more. A deep blush rose on your cheeks when he inhaled your intimate scent deeply before pushing his tongue inside your womanhood.

Your back arched and your finger desperately tugged on his hair as he sucked your clit and his free hand played with your nipple, pinching and tugging it until you were panting in want. "o-oh yoongi" your eyes rolled at the back of your head when he pushed a finger inside you and easily found your sweet spot. The sound of squelching becoming louder and louder as you got more wet by the second and you would have been embarrassed if your climax wasn't approaching so rapidly.

It seemed he knew you were about to come because he increased his speed, taking turns in sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue "come for me y/n. Give it to me" the Way he said your name, so deeply and dark with desires, it was enough to throw you into another level of pleasure and edge you closer to your orgasm which washed over you like a truck.

Your back arched and mouth hanged opened as you came hard, with him greedily drinking every drop of love you gave him. He came up besides you as you slowly came down from your high and pushed your hair out of your face before kissing you softly. A whimper leaving your lips as you tasted yourself on his lips.

"are you okay? " he mumbled, kissing your head when you nodded with shy smile "do you want to stop here, or keep going?" you have no idea how he can be so patient and calm when his arousal which you were trying hard not to stare looked so big and well hard. Wasn't it painful?

You blushed deeply and nodded whispering "I want to be close to you" and pulled him towards yourself "you're close to me doll" he rasped kissing you softly "closer" you begged softly and the darkness in his eyes returned. He left you for a second to stand up and take off his pants, all the while keeping his eyes on you. But the second the burn marks came in his view, the dark fury returned again. Suddenly all he wanted to do was find the people who did this to you and make them regret their whole lives. But that can wait. This was all about you.

You gasped when he pulled down his boxers, your pussy clenching around nothing as a soft moan left your lips, noticing the pre cum already forming. He was big. So big that you wondered if it would even fit inside you. You watched shyly as he took out a condom from his jean's pocket and rolled it over his dick, hissing at the sensitivity. You reached for him, and he took your hand without any hesitation as you parted your legs for him.

He breathed sharply when his cock rubbed against your cunt, both of you moaning simultaneously at the feeling. "I don't want to hurt you" he sighed leaning against your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "kiss me doll" you nodded shyly pressing your lips on his and at the same time, he gently pushed inside you. Well as gentle as he can with the way you were squeezing him so tightly. A small cry left your lips which caused him to stop immediately as he cursed under his breath "fuck doll do you want me to stop?" he rasped wiping your tears softly and frowned when you shaked your head "don't force yourself angel" " Im not. Keep going please" you whispered softly kissing him again.

He started pushing inside you again, reminding you to breath all the while controlling himself with a tight jaw. He buried his face in your neck as you sighed softly. "you good? " he nodded not moving at all and you nodded with a small wince which he noticed immediately .He knew that distracting you would be the best option.

"do you like coffee? " you looked at him surprised before a smile brightened your face and you nodded.

"what was the name of your cat?" he mumbled nuzzling his nose against yours "cloud" "cloud? " he raised an eyebrow and you nodded giggling softly "she was as white as a cloud" he nodded "cute"

"which is your favorite weather?" "monsoon" you smiled.

"do you like snow? " "very"

"do you like hot chocolate?" "yes''

"do you like me?" "....very"

It was a shy whisper but it was enough to make both of your hearts pound.

And with that, he pulled back and slowly thrusted in deeply. It was enough to part your lips in a loud moan. His thrusts were deep and powerful, his cock huge enough to brush against every curve of your womanhood and his thrusts powerful enough for your whole body to thrust upwards everytime he thrusted in.

A deep groan left his lips, his eyes trained on your breasts which bounced with every thrust. You reached for his hand and he held it immediately, pressing your intertwined hands besides your head while the other one supported himself on top of you. Your legs wrapped around his torso and your nails scratched his back as his groans and growls along with your moans filled the room.

His pace was getting faster with each second as he pulled you in a deep kiss. ''y-yoongi feels so good-" you let out a broken moan as he hit your g spot again and again "fuck" he grunted feeling you clench around him hard. Growling lowly he increased his speed, your eyes falling shut and your back arching causing your soft breast to press against his firm and hard chest "dammit doll you keep doing that and I won't be able to hold it any longer" he groaned when you clenched around him again, his own climax approaching rapidly when he felt your walls fluttering around him signalling you were close. "yoongi I feel so close-" you cried out when he slammed inside you again and again, the sound of skin slapping increasing as he fucked you with fevour. The old deep and slow thrusts disappearing as he pounded inside you.

''come with me doll. I've got you" he gritted and your lips parted with a loud moan as your second orgasm washed over you, edging him closer to his own. "fuck-!" he gasped biting your shoulder to muffle his moans but even with that, you heard his next words loud and clear, which caused a flutter around your heart "I love you so fucking much y/n-"

Pants and heavy breathing filled the room as he fell on top of you and buried his face in your sweaty chest. After another moment of silence, he mumbled "I meant what I said angel" you smiled tiredly, wrapping your tired limbs around him "I love you too yoongi" his tense form relaxed against you and he pressed soft kiss on whatever skin he could reach before slowly pulling out of you. He frowned when you winced and with a small grunt, he stood up and picked you up in his arms, a soft smile blooming in his face as your soft giggle reached his ears.

"are you okay?" he mumbled walking towards his bedroom. You nodded snuggling In his bare chest "just a little sore" he gently laid you on the bed and walked in the bathroom to bring a wet towel. You blushed as he cleaned you up gently before rolling the condom and throwing it in the bin.

And finally, as he laid on the bed, you scooted closer until he took you in his arms, rubbing your bare back softly enough to lull you Into a sweet slumber. "can I ask you something? " he mumbled and you nodded sleepily "who did this to you doll" you stiffened in his arms, your heart squeezing at the protectiveness in his voice. After a second of silence, you whispered "my parents" it was his turn to stiffen up as anger rose high inside him "your parents?" he mumbled darkly, his arms around you tightening when you sniffled softly "t-they.. Well-" "you don't have to tell me doll. I'm sorry for asking''he said quietly but you shaked your head and kissed his jaw "it's okay. I-i need to talk about this" he waited for you patiently as you took a deep breath "t-they were drug addicts" he took a sharp breath "people told me that they were addicts since years. They stopped when I was born but after a while, they started doing them again. It got really bad. So bad that they would get mad at everything I did. As a punishment, they would burn me" you whispered the last sentence and his arms around you tightened "they didn't stop until they had an overdose and died when I was 7"

7. At that young age you had to suffer all that. Your own parents did that to you when you were so small. When you were just a child. That's why you had reacted like that when he told you that sang u might die of an OD. fuck he has been hurting you ever since you came in his life and yet you're still willing to be with him.

"what about you?'' you asked quietly snuggling in his chest and hugging him tighter. His heart soared. You were trying to comfort him. How long had it been since someone comforted him? "my uncle" he mumbled, his voice emotionless "he's an alcoholic. Was fucked up in his own ways and fucked me up too" he chucked dryly "I was 13 when he got thrown in the hospital" he held you a little tighter "he's still dying in that hospital and will die there without seeing any of his family's face'' "I'm so sorry" you whispered and He chuckled softly "you don't have anything to be sorry of, angel."

Even when he told you that, you still kissed him softly which comforted him in every way he could imagine. He knew he didn't deserve you. But fuck he wanted to be selfish. And he is going to be.

As you slept peacefully in his arms, he thought about what your life together will be like. And that night he made many decisions. Getting the hell out of this place and leaving this business was one of them. You didn't know it yet but he would do anything and everything in his power to give you anything you wanted.

~•~

A soft giggle left your lips as you felt soft lips tickling your skin and a fond smile lifted your lips when you felt his large hand cupping your barely visible tummy. "mmm are you leaving? " you whispered sleepily kissing him back, laughing as he groaned against your lips "thinking of not going today," you glared at him "this is the 3rd time you're not going to work in a week" "so? I'm the boss so I can take as many day off I want. Besides" he smirked getting under the covers and rubbing your bare stomach softly "I'd much rather spend the day with my wife and my child" you gasped giggling when his lips attacked yours.

Well guess who's taking another day off.

Yoongi left the business soon after when you both got together 6 years ago. He moved into another relatively nicer area and started doing less shady jobs like bar tending and working in restaurants until he met another ambitious man like himself. Kim namjoon and min yoongi founded a security company together which is now thriving. And 4 Years later, you both got married. Now life couldn't get better with your husband and your unborn child.

"I love you doll"

"I love you too yoongs"

@xjiminsthighsx @bri-mal @bunnyrhe @rosquilleta @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @creatorspalace @yoonaasa @iheartsvt @xmochiloverx @kyojuro-ska @meow-min @kissme-ornot @wobblewobble822 @kookieaddicted96 @thelilbutifulthings @joonsblossom @Atherosworld@jlee97

[run2yoongi]

after hours | myg x reader

for whatever reason, your boss liked to work you to the bone. your countless hours of overtime and extra work never seemed to tide him over, he always expected more. after a year, your patience was wearing thin, so you finally decide to ask him what it is exactly he wants.

↳ pairing: boss!yoongi x reader

↳ setting: office worker au, kinda angsty, smut

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, bondage, unethical power dynamics/abuse of power, degradation, unprotected sex (dont do it bbyz), hurt and comfort, dacryphilia, mean dom!yoongi, teasing, spanking, creampie, no aftercare, female prefixes for reader (miss).

↳ side note: word count is 3.3k!

masterlist

"goodnight!" your coworker called out over his shoulder, waving at you as he rounded the corner and left you alone in your cold, clinical office. you hadn't even bothered to look away from your screen, just humming in response. you were tired. exhausted, if you were being honest with yourself.

you couldn't afford to be honest with yourself though, you didn't have the time. your boss, min yoongi, had asked you to send another updated report to him due in twenty minutes. you were scrounging through emails, looking to find a reference number that you knew your coworker probably hadn't even thought to send to you. it was getting impossible.

you glanced over to the corner of your desktop screen to check if you'd missed yet another dinner with the guy you'd been seeing on and off again for the last year.

7:12pm

not only were you meant to meet him at 7, but you were meant to finish work at 4. before you could even let out a frustrated sigh and search for your phone to apologise, you felt the weight of a hand rest on the back of your chair, tilting you backward, making you lose your balance.

your panicked eyes flew up to the perpetrator, coloured with a mix of anger and confusion. "do i need to enroll you in training for how to sit in a chair now?" yoongi spoke, an arrogant smirk tugging on his lips. if only he wasn't your boss, you'd think about slapping him.

you gathered yourself and swiftly sat upright, twirling the chair around slightly to break his grip. it had been over a year yet, you were still stunned by how beautiful your boss is. his dark hair was swept softly behind his ears, allowing the harsh office lighting to highlight the peaks of face, his nose and cheekbones. you'd accepted the job offer the second he'd extended it. how could you refuse a face like that?

you remembered how soft his lips looked when he'd smiled at you for the first time, right when you came in for your interview. if you'd known then that you'd be working 11 hour days, maybe you'd have realised that he was likely smiling because you'd fallen right into his trap.

"how's the report coming along?" he asked as his smirk faded into a stern line. you sighed, glancing back at your monitor. "i'm just looking for one last item, and i'll be done." you explained, attempting to keep the fatigue out of your tone to no avail.

"you're still new, but you should be working on your efficiency, y/n." he sighed, shifting his weight to lean on your desk. you swallowed the anger growing in your throat, nodding in response. "yes, sir." you bit the inside of your cheek, lost for words at his condescension. silence filled the room, and the tension in your stomach was growing unbearable.

what the fuck did he want from you?

none of your other coworkers had to submit daily reports, and you were the only one expected to bring everyone coffee in the morning, the only one expected to set up meeting rooms for yoongi without being asked, the only one who did almost four hours of over time every day.

"d-did everyone have to do all this when they started here?" you asked, gulping as you suppressed the anxiety that rose from questioning your boss. he raised an eyebrow at you, crossed his arms across his chest, and sighed, not breaking his scolding gaze. "what do you mean?"

"oh, i- uh." you stuttered, heat spreading across your face. "the reports, and the..." you trailed off, eyes darting across the empty office. "the overtime." you finished quietly.

yoongi stared at you, examining the pink flush growing across your cheeks and ears. his eyes flashed with amusement as you squirmed under his gaze, desperate for him to break the silence and answer the question. "i- i don't mind, it's just..." you stuttered, unable to look anywhere besides the floor beneath you.

"...you just?" he asked, voice dripping with levity.

"i mean, tonight, for example," you swallowed, struggling to find your words. "i had plans that i had to miss because of all the extra work." you heard him let out a short exhale, a silent laugh at your desperate plea. "extra work? you think you're working harder than your coworkers?" he mused. your eyes flew up to meet his teasing grin, shocked at his misinterpretation of your words. "that's not what i meant-" you began to explain, shifting in your seat.

"is there somewhere you'd rather be, miss y/n?" he asked smugly grinning at your panicked state. you hesitated, because yes, of course, there was somewhere you'd rather be. he stretched his hand out on your desk, sliding his pointer across it before checking for dust. "how about you finish the report, and then we can talk." he added, standing up from his position on your desk before straightening his blazer jacket and nodding his farewell at you.

-

after yoongi's brief intervention, you'd finished even later than you anticipated. the printer jamming didn't help either, you'd only managed to place your report on your boss's desk before 8pm. it was already dark out and you were contemplating calling an uber instead of catching the bus when yoongi interrupted your train of thought. "before you go," he spoke, gesturing to the seat in front of you at his desk. without a word, you took a seat, placing your hands in your lap.

"tell me about how you're being overworked." he invited, leaning back in his chair. your eyes flickered to the small of his waist, and you noted that he'd taken his jacket off, now tossed on the couch against the wall. you eyed his collar, the loosened tie, the top button undone. you'd never seen him disheveled like this.

"well?" he asked, noticing exactly where your eyes were going.

"i- i mean, i'm the only one here so far after hours." you spoke, stumbling over your words as you snapped out of your sinful thoughts. "and doing the team reports, i- i don't..."

a smile spread across his features as he slowly stood up from his chair and sauntered over to you, seating himself on his desk, his thighs only inches away from your knees. "i'm here too, you know." he spoke almost in a whisper, drawing you in. "you know the saying about diamonds being forged under pressure?" he added, not expecting an answer.

you shook your head, frustration building up and spreading across your body. "i guess i just don't know what you expect of me, sir." you sighed, unable to prevent the anger you felt slipping into your speech.

yoongi tutted, crossing his legs in front of you. "only the best from you," he laughed quietly. "you want to know how to please me, y/n?" he asked, fingers tracing down the length of his tie as his facade of professionalism seemed to vanish. you nodded, ignoring the icy sensation of butterflies in your stomach. he leaned over, lowering his face until it was just above yours. "be better." he spoke.

your eyes started burning and tears formed at their corners almost instantly. the sinking feeling in your stomach was almost painful as your chin quivered at the insult. you couldn't look at him. you had been working hellish hours, day in and day out at his request and this is how he regarded you. your view of the floor began to blur as a tear fell down your cheek and onto your thigh.

you flinched and closed your eyes as yoongi extended his arm to you and cupped your face, the pad of his thumb smearing a tear across your cheek. his touch was cold, providing relief for you in your heated state. you couldn't help but lean into his hand, despite your anger. "so pretty," he said under his breath as it hitched. you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused. through your blurred vision, you saw him swallow.

"fuck," he breathed, staring into your eyes as his hand went from your face to his mouth. you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to save yourself from the humiliation of crying in front of your boss. "stand up." he demanded, face deadly serious while you stared at him, bewildered. after you sat there, still, his hand reached out to pull you from the chair. you felt how hard and fast your heart was beating, how the confusion slowed your brain down, heat stirring deep inside you.

"you're such an obedient worker," he spoke, still looking down over you as he leaned on his desk. "always do whatever i say,". silence filled the room again as your heart hammered in your chest. you hated him for doing this to you and you were embarrassed, but his hot-and-cold tone made it impossible for you to leave. his words made you feel something, a mixture of humiliation and heat. you wanted his approval, his validation and you wanted him. you wanted it so bad you ached.

"that's why i keep you around, y/n." he finally spoke.

you gulped, the frustration and confusion mixing to form a mess of arousal and eagerness to please your boss. "y-you keep me back because i do what you want?" you ask, trying to keep what was left of your professional composure, although yoongi's had clocked out a long time ago.

he nodded slowly, breathing you in as you stood before him. "bend over." he instructed, finally standing. "that's what i want." he added, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. you contemplated it, mulling it over in your mind. yoongi wasn't going to make you do it, he was waiting to see how far you'd go.

"you'll let me go home at a reasonable hour?" you asked, it slowly dawning on you what exactly you were negotiating over. yoongi hummed and walked behind you, pulling the chair away from the desk. "i don't think you'll want to, but we'll see.". the thought sent a wave of electricity through you.

you didn't know what to expect from yoongi. of course, you'd thought about fucking him, but in your fantasies you were made to share a bed at some work trip, it had been romantic and critically, hadn't started with you crying. nevertheless, you stepped forward towards the desk and placed your hands on the cool wooden surface.

you felt his hand press against the expanse of your thigh, rubbing it over in soothing motions before he retracted it and landed a cruel, hard slap against the tender spot. you groaned at the lingering sting on your skin, knees buckling beneath you as your jaw clenched. "what you really lack," he spanked your thigh again, harder and higher up your legs. "is discipline."

he placed a hand on your back, pushing you further down and bringing your face flush against the desk. you felt your skirt hitch up and rest against your hips, revealing your plain black underwear. you certainly hadn't expected anyone to be seeing your ass today, otherwise, you might have worn something a litter lacier. yoongi didn't seem to mind as he groped the flesh of your ass before landing another slap, this time on your behind, earning a strangled moan.

"this is what you're good for," he growled as he brought your hands behind your back. you heard the rustling of fabric before feeling him place his tie around your wrists, wrapping it tightly around them before pulling it into a knot with a swift yank. he spanked you again before stepping back to take in the sight with an approving smile.

"so tell me where you'd rather be, y/n." he mused, rubbing the reddening hand marks on your skin. "getting fucked by some fucking low-life who can't even pick you up from work? was that one of the plans you've had to miss because of your mean boss?" his fingers drifted over your aching core and you shifted your hips, desperate for relief from the stinging his ruthless slaps had caused. he responded by applying more pressure as he stroked you over your folds.

"so fucking desperate," he chided, pressing your underwear into your soaked core. "you should hear the way your coworkers speak about you. such a pretty thing, such a tight ass." he was mimicking someone, you couldn't tell who.

you let out a hum, unable to answer as the reality of the situation was still forming in your mind. you just wanted him, you didn't care anymore. you wriggled your hips, backing them into his palm. his free hand slipped onto your hip, pulling your underwear down until they were at your knees. from the corner of your eye, you saw him bend down onto his knees as both of his hands regained their grip on your ass. "please," you whined, pleading for his taunting to be over.

his tongue was hot and wet, licking long stripes and pushing past your folds. the foreign feeling sent you reeling, and you let out a high-pitched moan as you felt your face heat up against his desk. he stood up and leaned over you, his face behind your ear as his fingers found their way to your clit. "obedient little slut," he hissed, his venomous words shooting straight to your core. "you come into my office every day after hours wearing your tight skirts and heels,"

he rubbed your clit in fast, tiny circles making you moan whenever his index finger passed over it with a little too much pressure. "and you wonder why i always keep you back?" he laughed incredulously, you could hear the disbelief in his voice. he stood back up, removing his hand from your soaked pussy. you heard him fiddle with his zipper before pulling his cock out of his slacks. you wished you could see it, you just knew it would be as pretty as he was. he pumped it slowly, looking over you as you squirmed in your powerless position. "can't fucking take it anymore," he sounded desperate. you wondered how long he'd been thinking about this, planning this.

you weren't prepared when you felt his cock press against you, its smooth length coating itself in your arousal. he groaned as he rubbed himself against you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him. "tell me to stop," he said, almost begging. you knew how bad this would be for him, for you, for the company, but you couldn't. you needed him.

"i want you," you replied in your softest of voices. "please, sajangnim"

you felt him line himself up behind you before slowly entering you, filling your core as you fluttered around him. you let out an unrestrained moan in tandem, finally feeling a ripple of pleasure wash over you. he didn't ease you into it before pumping himself into you, using a firm grip on your hair as leverage for his merciless thrusts. "fuck," he exclaimed, throwing his head back as he fucked you over the desk, papers and pens falling to the floor. "you're my slut," he panted.

you nodded against the desk, his unrelenting strokes invoking waves of ecstasy every time his cock filled you up. "yours," you agreed mindlessly. "only yours."

he slapped your ass, the pain adding to the spreading pleasure taking over your body. "you'll fuck when i want you to fuck," he spoke through his grunting. "say you'll suck my dick whenever i ask."

you could barely register his words through your moans and the deafening pleasure. "yes, sir, whatever you want." despite your concession, he slapped the side of your thigh. he fucked you, unrelenting and unforgiving like he'd been deprived for years.

he used your tied wrists to pull you flat against his chest as his other hand snaked around your front, rubbing between your folds and stroking your clit as you moaned at the overstimulation. "greedy slut." he spat, sharply impaling you with a powerful thrust that hurt. you felt the tie come loose from your wrists.

you whined, needing him to be satisfied and continue pleasing you like he had been. he pulled out of you, forcefully turning you around and pushing your ass into his desk. for the first time, you saw his crazed expression, lips wet, coated with spit and your essence. his pupils were blown out and his expression was serious, almost furious. if you weren't so turned on, you'd almost be scared.

as he pushed you further onto the desk, you used your palms to keep your balance as he carelessly brought one of your legs up and around his waist. for a brief moment, you eyed his cock- thick and hard. pretty, like you'd expected.

you couldn't look for long before he slotted himself between your legs and entered you again, his eyes trained on your chest as your tits bounced in response to his thrusts. his lips were parted as he fucked into you, cockily driving into you like he knew how good it felt.

moans passed your lips before you could register them, your orgasm building even quicker now that you could actually see what he was doing to you. "lie down." he grunted, pushing you down before you could respond. he lifted your other leg and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, the tip of his cock pumping your hilt, drawing a pained groan from your throat.

this position was almost too much for you to handle, allowing yoongi to reach deeper inside of you than he had before. or really, deeper than anyone had before. your palms tapped against his arm in desperation as you gasped, ready to reach your orgasm. "please, i'm going to-" you began. he slapped your thigh, cutting you off and breaking your train of thought. he continued rolling his hips into you at a tireless pace, desperate to reach his own end. "such a slut for me, cumming on my cock already?"

you hummed, nodding eagerly at his words. one of your legs fell as he released his hold, his hand finding its way to your pussy to rub soft circles over your clit. you were almost sobbing, the pleasure ripping through you pitilessly. you arched your back as his cock slid in and out of you while the first wave of your orgasm began to crash, wetness spreading down your legs and onto the desk. "yoongi!" you exclaimed as he fucked you through the peak your orgasm, your fingernails digging into his toned arms. your vision began to whiten as you came, unable to think of anything besides how incredible and intoxicating he felt inside you.

the fluttering of your walls and increasing tightness around his cock became too much, and yoongi lowered his gaze to where the two of you met. a thick ring of white had formed at the base of his cock, and it sent him over the edge. he dug his fingernails into the flesh of your thigh as he released a whiny grunt at the realisation. you felt him pulsate inside you, his thrusts becoming unrestrained and rigid as his eyes crammed shut. his grunts became moans as you felt him release inside you, your name falling from his lips in breathy pleas. his thrusts finally slowed as his tip became too sensitive to continue.

he unsheathed himself and tucked his wet cock back into his pants, you could still make out the hard, thick shape underneath. silence filled the room as you began to move, closing your legs and hopping off the desk. yoongi raised an eyebrow and bent down to pull your underwear back up against your pussy. "don't waste a fucking drop." he whispered before winking at you. you straightened out your skirt as you processed his words.

he'd finished inside you.

he rubbed your clothed cunt before standing back up and fixing your collar, as if he was getting ready to send you back off to work. though, you had a feeling he wasn’t done yet. "i'll drop you home." he spoke, turning on his heel to grab his jacket from the couch.

like he hadn't just completely changed everything for you.

[keehomania]

a little older (더 나이든) — min yoongi (민 윤기)

✧.* 18+

building a life of your own was supposed to be the most important thing, a sacred endeavor carved out of dreams and determination. it was meant to be a testament to resilience, a collection of moments carefully stacked like cards, each one representing a triumph, a choice, a whispered hope. every decision, every relationship, every step forward was like placing a new card on the fragile structure—delicate, yet full of potential. there was an elegance in the construction, a beauty in the precariousness, as each layer rose higher, promising a future that was uniquely yours.

the foundation was always more fragile than it seemed. life, with all its unpredictable twists, was like a breath of wind, capable of unsettling even the sturdiest of foundations. the careful balance, once so meticulously maintained, could be disrupted by a single misstep, a fleeting moment of imbalance. and when it happened—when that one card faltered—it was as if time slowed, the world held its breath, and the house of cards began to tremble. in an instant, everything you had built with such care, such hope, began to collapse. the cards fell, one by one, in a cascading rush of loss. it wasn’t just the physical manifestations of your efforts that crumbled; it was the dreams, the aspirations, the very essence of what you had imagined your life could be. the crash was both silent and deafening, a paradox of destruction that left you standing in the aftermath, surrounded by the scattered remnants of what once was.

in those moments, it became clear that the life you had built, so painstakingly and with such love, was never as invincible as you had believed. it was delicate, ephemeral, a structure of possibilities rather than certainties. and now, with the cards lying in disarray around you, the realization settled in—building a life of your own was not just about the construction, but about the constant balance, the vigilance, the understanding that everything could be lost in a heartbeat. the house of cards was beautiful while it stood, but it was a fragile beauty, one that required more than just ambition to sustain—it demanded a deep awareness of its own impermanence.

the gentle hum of rome surrounded you like a comforting embrace, the city's timeless charm intertwining with the luxurious life you had carefully crafted for yourself. the cobblestone streets underfoot, the scent of freshly brewed espresso wafting through the air, and the vibrant murmur of voices from nearby tables—all were part of the life you had come to know and love. it was a life of indulgence, of quiet moments in quaint coffee shops between photoshoots, where you could savor the richness of your success, the delicate balance of beauty and fame that you had so skillfully maintained.

your phone vibrated softly on the marble tabletop, interrupting your thoughts. the screen flashed with the name of your manager, a reminder of the world that existed just beyond this fleeting moment of peace. you took a slow sip of your coffee before answering, already knowing the conversation that was about to unfold. “why won't you be able to make the shoot in milan?” her voice, usually calm and composed, carried a note of urgency, of disappointment that you could almost feel through the line.

you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the decision you had already made. “i gotta go back to daegu,” you began, choosing your words carefully as you gazed out at the bustling street, the vibrant life that you had temporarily claimed as your own. “i was enjoying some time off between shoots, but i have to go back. my mother called. she wants to get the family together.”

there was a brief pause on the other end of the line, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you. then, your manager exhaled, the disappointment in her voice palpable as she responded. “i'm disappointed. you know how important this shoot is, how much it could mean for your career. but i understand—family comes first.” you ended the call with a simple, “i'll be in touch,” the finality of the words echoing in your mind long after the call had disconnected. the weight of her disappointment hung over you like a shadow, mingling with your own. you were disappointed, too—disappointed that your carefully constructed life, the life you had fought so hard to create, was once again being pulled away by forces you couldn’t control.

the last thing you wanted was to spend a month in daegu, surrounded by your family and whoever else your mother decided to invite into your life. you had built something here, something that was yours alone. the glitz and glamour of the modeling world were more than just a career—they were your escape, your sanctuary from the past you had left behind. the riches, the fame, the adoration of the media—they were all a part of the life you had chosen, a life that felt worlds apart from the one that awaited you back home.

your father had always been supportive, his pride in your achievements a quiet but constant presence in your life. but your mother, your mother was another story. she had never truly understood the life you had built, never missed an opportunity to remind you of the family you had left behind, the obligations she believed you were neglecting. she was too emotional, too needy, always quick to turn to you with her problems, her fears, using you as her therapist when all you wanted was to be her daughter. it was a role you had never wanted, a burden you had never asked for, and one that had driven a deep wedge between the two of you.

as you sat in the coffee shop, the realization settled in with a dull ache—you didn’t want to go back. not now, not ever. the life you had built was there, in those moments of quiet luxury, in the thrill of the spotlight, in the knowledge that you were beautiful and that the world loved you for it. the idea of returning to daegu, to the suffocating expectations of family, was almost unbearable.

and yet, there you were, about to board a plane back to the place you had spent so many years trying to escape. you knew that once you were there, the walls you had so carefully constructed around yourself would start to crumble, brick by brick, as your mother’s words chipped away at the confidence you had so painstakingly built. but for now, you let yourself savor the last of your trip. you let the warmth of the roman sun wash over you, let the taste of rich coffee linger on your tongue, let the sound of the city’s heartbeat fill your ears. you allowed yourself this final moment of peace, a small luxury before the storm that awaited you back home.

the airport was a sea of hurried footsteps and murmured conversations, a place of constant motion and transient connections. the lights overhead were bright, almost glaring, casting a harsh glow on the polished floors and sleek, modern architecture. you walked through the bustling terminal with your head down, the brim of your hat casting a shadow over your face. the hat was slightly too big, the edges brushing against your sunglasses, but it was a necessary discomfort. you knew the hat and shades might draw attention, might make people look twice, but it was a risk you were willing to take. you couldn’t afford to be recognized tonight—not when the weight of the decision to return to daegu was already pressing down on you.

the noise of the terminal was a constant hum in your ears, a backdrop of lives intersecting and parting ways. you moved with purpose, but each step felt heavy, as if the gravity of what awaited you back home was pulling you down. the bustling crowd gave you a sense of anonymity, a comfort in the chaos, but there was always the underlying fear—what if someone recognized you? what if a single glance, a moment of misplaced attention, shattered the fragile anonymity you clung to?

you reached the gate, the final checkpoint before you could slip into the relative safety of the plane. the lady at the gate, dressed in a crisp uniform, greeted you with a professional smile, her eyes scanning you briefly before she spoke. “ticket, please.” you handed it over, your fingers brushing against the smooth paper, and you watched as she glanced at it, her expression unchanged until her eyes fell on your name. the realization dawned in her eyes, a flicker of recognition that quickly blossomed into a wide smile.

her voice dropped to a near whisper, a mix of awe and excitement as she spoke again, her tone more personal now. “are you in first class?” you nodded, a small, polite gesture, before affirming softly, “yes, i am.” her fingers trembled slightly as she checked the ticket, the formalities of her job momentarily forgotten as she glanced back up at you. the admiration in her eyes was unmistakable, a look you had seen a thousand times before, but one that still made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“i’m such a big fan,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “would you mind—?” she trailed off, pulling out a poster she had tucked away—a poster of you, one from a recent campaign, your face smiling back at you with a confidence you didn’t quite feel in this moment. you forced a smile, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as you replied, “of course.” you took the pen she offered, your hand moving almost automatically as you signed your name, the signature that had become so familiar to you, yet felt so alien in moments like this. the pen scratched lightly against the glossy paper, the sound almost lost in the noise of the terminal, but to you, it felt deafening. when you finished, you handed the poster back to her, your smile still in place despite the churning in your stomach.

“thank you so much,” she gushed, her voice barely above a whisper now, as if she were afraid to break the spell. “i hope you have a safe flight.” you nodded again, murmuring your thanks as you took your ticket back, slipping it into your bag with hands that felt too heavy, too cumbersome. the brief encounter had left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that only the public eye could make you feel. as you walked away, towards the plane that would take you back to a life you weren’t ready to face, you kept your head low, your hat pulled down just a little further, your sunglasses pressed tightly to your face.

the publicity was suffocating, a constant reminder of the life you had chosen, a life that came with its own set of rules and expectations. there were moments, fleeting but persistent, when all you wanted was a normal life—one where you could walk through an airport without being recognized, where you could board a plane without the weight of fame pressing down on your shoulders. but that life wasn’t yours to live, not anymore. so you kept your shades on, the brim of your hat shielding you from the world as you made your way to the gate, your steps quickening as you neared the entrance to the plane. you handed your ticket to the flight attendant, her smile professional and warm, and without a word, you slipped past her and into the sanctuary of first class. you found your seat and settled in, sinking into the plush leather with a sigh that was more of resignation than relief.

daegu’s air felt different the moment you stepped off the plane. the warm breeze carried with it the scent of familiarity—of home, of memories both cherished and forgotten. you moved through the terminal with a practiced ease, gathering your luggage as if in a trance. the sleek, designer suitcases were a stark contrast to the airport’s simple decor, a reminder of the life you had built away from here.

once you had everything in hand, you made your way out of the airport, your hat still pulled low over your face, your sunglasses firmly in place. the crowds here were less intense, less likely to recognize you, but you weren’t taking any chances. it was better to remain hidden until you were safely out of public view. you stepped out into the open air, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement, and you quickly hailed a cab.

the driver—a man in his mid-fifties with a kind, weathered face—didn’t say much as you slid into the back seat. you gave him the address, and he nodded, pulling away from the curb without a word. the silence was a gift, and you found yourself grateful for it. the drive through daegu’s familiar streets was oddly comforting, the buildings and landscapes bringing back a flood of memories, some pleasant, others less so.

as the car approached your childhood home, you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. you tipped the driver a bit extra as a silent thank you for the uninterrupted journey, and he accepted it with a small, appreciative nod. only when you were certain you were out of sight did you finally remove your sunglasses and hat, letting the cool air of the evening touch your face. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before stepping out of the cab.

the sight that greeted you was unexpected—your parents stood in front of the house, their faces alight with joy, and a small group of people you didn’t recognize clustered around them. there was a makeshift cookout in the yard, the smell of grilled meat and the sound of laughter filling the air. it was a welcome-home celebration, one that should have made you feel warm inside, but instead, it only heightened your unease.

your father was the first to approach, his arms open wide. he was a strong, silent man, not one for overt displays of affection, but in this moment, he wrapped you in a hug that spoke volumes. you allowed yourself to sink into the embrace, feeling a flicker of genuine warmth. when he released you, you noticed your mother standing off to the side, her expression slightly pinched, as if disappointed that she hadn’t been the first to greet you. still, you turned to her with a smile, pulling her into a hug. her embrace was firmer, more scrutinizing, as if she were searching for something. “you’ve gotten thinner,” she remarked, pulling back to look at you, her tone half-critical, half-concerned.

you couldn’t help but laugh lightly, brushing off her comment. “that’s part of my job, mom.”  your father’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, his voice gentle as he added, “and you’ve gotten prettier, too.” he smiled as he stroked your hair, a gesture that felt both tender and grounding.

“i’ve missed you both,” you said, the words slipping out before you could fully process them. they felt genuine, though, and for a moment, you let yourself believe in the comfort of this reunion. but the moment was fleeting, your eyes drifting to the unfamiliar faces in the yard. “who are all these people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and slight irritation—from your voice.

your father gestured towards the group, his tone casual as he began introducing you to each of them. “these are some family friends. they’re only here for the day, but one of them will be staying for the month.” you smiled and nodded politely as each person was introduced, some of them expressing admiration for your work. you’d gotten used to it—meeting people who knew you before you knew them—but it didn’t make the encounters any less awkward.

“who’s the one staying?” you asked your father, trying to mask the apprehension in your voice. he chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “you know him very well.”

you frowned, confusion knitting your brow. “what do you mean by that?” your father didn’t answer directly. instead, he simply gestured to a man walking toward you from the other side of the yard. you turned to look, your breath catching slightly as you took in his appearance. he was handsome, undeniably so, with a soft smile on his lips and a calm, confident way of moving. there was something familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place it.

as he approached, his smile widened. “no, this can’t be (y/n),” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. for a moment, all you could think was how striking he was, and how frustrating it was that you couldn’t remember who he was. your father beamed with pride, his gaze flickering between you and the man. “she’s pretty, isn’t she?” he asked, his voice full of paternal affection.

the man nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “gorgeous,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. there was a pause before he added, “do you remember me?” you searched his face, trying to dig through the layers of your memory, but nothing came to mind. with a reluctant shake of your head, you admitted, “i’m sorry, but no.”

your father laughed, a deep, hearty sound that rumbled through the air. “this is yoongi. he used to come over all the time to take care of you when you were younger and home alone.” your eyes widened in recognition, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. “yoongi?” you echoed, incredulity coloring your voice.

he nodded, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i’ve changed a bit, haven’t i?” you laughed nervously, still processing the transformation before you. “only in the best way,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

yoongi shrugged, the smile on his face turning a bit wry. “that’s what divorce does.” you blinked in surprise, the revelation catching you off guard. “you, you divorced miss jeon?”

he nodded, his expression calm, as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “yeah. it was for the best, though.” you shook your head slightly, still reeling from the news. miss jeon had been such a constant presence in your life, always there to help out, to cook meals when your parents were busy. the idea of her and yoongi no longer being together felt strange, almost surreal. sensing your shock, yoongi gave you a reassuring look. “don’t worry about it,” he said gently. “it was the best outcome for both of us.”

you nodded slowly, still absorbing the information. “it’s just hard to believe.” he smiled again, this time a bit more softly. “i know. but it’s good to see you again.” he paused, stepping forward to envelop you in a warm hug, his arms strong and comforting. as he pulled back, he added with a teasing glint in his eye, “and don’t worry—you’ll be seeing a lot more of me for the next month.” you managed a smile in return, though your mind was still spinning with the unexpected turn of events.

yoongi had changed significantly, to your shock. it seemed to make your father chuckle, his amusement evident at your reaction, but it wasn't temporary shock. you found yourself staring at him for a second too long, trying to process how much he had changed. he was handsome, he seemed less stoic than you remembered. he had been taking care of himself, it was evident in the way his skin shined under the sunlight and how his muscles flexed in his shirt that was just, maybe, a little too tight. you had remembered him as skinny, borderline bland, but he took good care of you while he had to. he looked amazing for his age, even though he wasn't too older than you.

his mine had chosen to run wild, too. he was aware that you were no longer the little girl he watched over with his ex-wife. you had changed, blossomed into a woman. he knew it beforehand, when you had started working. as much as you were a global hit, you were a national star just as much, if not more. he had seen the photos, the interviews, the shoots. the first time he saw them, your father had showed them to him with a proud smile on his face that seemed to clash with yoongi's shock. it wasn't negative in the slightest, he simply couldn't believe how bold and beautiful you had gotten. seeing you in person made all the difference, you were even prettier in person.

the hot water cascaded over your skin, the steady stream washing away the lingering tension of the day. you stood under the showerhead, eyes closed, letting the warmth seep into your muscles, relaxing the knots that had formed from the journey and the unexpected reunion. the steam filled the small bathroom, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of heat and humidity. the scent of the lavender-scented body wash mingled with the steam, creating an almost meditative atmosphere. there, in the quiet, steamy space, the world outside felt distant, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be fully present, savoring the solitude.

but as you turned off the water and reached for a towel, your hand met only empty space. panic sparked in your chest as you realized you had forgotten to bring one with you. the heat from the shower quickly dissipated, leaving your skin to prickle with the chill of the air. you glanced around the bathroom, hoping to find a spare towel or anything to cover yourself with, but there was nothing.

resigned, you wrapped your arms around yourself as best as you could, trying to cover your body as you opened the bathroom door just a crack. the house was quiet, the murmur of conversation from the yard barely audible through the walls. it was late, and most of the guests had left. you took a deep breath, assuring yourself that everyone else was either outside or already settled in for the night. the coast was clear. you stepped out into the hallway, your bare feet making no sound on the cool wooden floor. with your hands still clutched to your chest, you hurried towards your room, your steps quick and silent. the soft hum of the house was the only sound accompanying you, and you felt a small sense of relief as you neared the safety of your door.

but as you rounded the corner, your breath caught in your throat. standing in the hallway, just a few feet away, was yoongi. He froze, his eyes wide with surprise as they locked onto yours. for a split second, neither of you moved, the shock of the situation rooting you both in place. yoongi’s gaze traveled down, his eyes widening further as he took in the sight of you—damp, vulnerable, and very much exposed. you saw the moment he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping back up to your face, filled with a mix of apology and something you couldn’t quite place. his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. he seemed to be struggling with himself, as if trying to force his eyes away, but they lingered just a second too long before he finally managed to turn his head, averting his gaze.

your heart pounded in your chest, embarrassment flooding your system as you clutched the clothes in your hands to your body, trying to cover as much of yourself as possible. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “i forgot to bring a towel.” he shook his head quickly, his back still turned to you, his voice strained as he replied, “no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have looked. i didn’t mean to—i wasn’t trying to—” his words trailed off awkwardly, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he gestured vaguely for you to return to the bathroom. “just go back. i won’t look.”

you didn’t need to be told twice. with your heart still racing, you turned on your heel and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. leaning against the cool tile, you let out a shaky breath, your skin tingling from both the chill and the residual heat of the shower. the image of his face, the way he had looked at you, flashed through your mind, and you felt your cheeks heat up in a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

meanwhile, yoongi stood in the hallway, cursing himself silently. he had seen you grow up, watched you transform from the little girl he used to babysit into the stunning woman you were now. but that didn’t give him the right to look at you like that, to let his gaze linger when he knew he should have looked away. you were his friend’s daughter, and he was supposed to be here to support you, not ogle you like some kind of creep. he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel the image of you that was now seared into his mind—the way your wet hair clung to your neck, the water droplets that had trailed down your skin, the way you had looked at him with those wide, startled eyes. he had to have some restraint. he couldn’t afford to lose control, not there, not now.

on the other side of the door, you were having similar thoughts. you couldn’t believe you had been so careless, so oblivious to the possibility that someone might see you. the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, or worse, to leave him with a bad impression of you. you had always respected him, admired him even, and now you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had ruined everything with one careless mistake. as you slowly dressed, your hands still trembling slightly, you couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect the next few weeks. you would be seeing a lot more of him, and the thought of facing him after what had just happened filled you with a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

dinner that evening was quiet, the usual hum of the house interrupted only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain and the soft murmurs of conversation. the long wooden table, covered with a simple white cloth, held the comforting spread of homemade dishes—steamed vegetables, grilled meats, and a bowl of steaming rice, all of which your mother had prepared with care. you had slipped into the kitchen earlier, wordlessly assisting her in setting the table and serving the food. she had smiled at you, her face softening with an expression you hadn’t seen in years. “thank you for helping,” she had said, her voice tinged with a quiet appreciation that made you pause. you had simply nodded in return, trying to ignore the strange twist in your chest.

as you walked into the dining room, you couldn’t help but notice yoongi seated at the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, as if he were silently observing everything around him. you caught his gaze for the briefest moment, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were dark, reflecting the soft light of the room, and when he looked at you, it felt as though he could see right through you. flustered, you quickly looked away, busying yourself with placing the last of the dishes on the table. your mother noticed the faint pink on your cheeks but said nothing, though a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“you look beautiful in that dress,” yoongi said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the comfortable silence. You froze for a moment, the compliment catching you off guard. the white dress was simple, something you had thrown on without much thought, but the way he said it made it feel like a grand gesture.

“yes, it really suits you,” your mother added, her tone bright. she was beaming at you, clearly pleased that someone had noticed. you forced a smile, your hands twisting the fabric of your dress nervously. you could feel yoongi’s eyes on you, and when you finally looked up, he was smiling at you—not just a polite smile, but something warmer, softer, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you tried to smile back, but your lips wobbled with the effort.

you took your seat, feeling his presence beside you like a tangible force, even though he was seated across the table. your father, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, began to ask you about your recent time in italy. “how was it?” he inquired, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

you paused, gathering your thoughts, and then answered, “i indulged in three things in italy—writing, wine, and men.” the words slipped out with a playful lilt, intended to tease, and the room erupted in laughter. your father chuckled, your mother giggled, and even some of the guests offered polite laughs. but yoongi’s reaction was different. his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and there was something stiff about the way he forced it onto his face. you caught the change in his expression and quickly looked away, but the image of his tight-lipped smile lingered in your mind. the thought of you—his little princess, as he had once affectionately called you—indulging in men made his stomach churn. he couldn’t reconcile the image of the young girl he had known with the woman sitting before him now.

“did you find a boyfriend?” your mother asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes. the question was laced with expectation, but you shook your head, dismissing the idea. “no, i don’t have time for that,” you replied, waving off the notion with a flick of your hand. the truth was, the thought of settling down, of committing to someone, felt suffocating, especially when your life was a whirlwind of photoshoots and travel. you enjoyed the company, the fleeting connections, but nothing more.

your father nodded thoughtfully and asked about your writing, his voice full of encouragement. “and your writing? how’s that going?” you hesitated for a moment, thinking about the journals and notes you had scribbled away during your time abroad. “i’ve done some dabbling here and there,” you admitted, keeping your tone light. you knew your father was proud of your creativity, always encouraging you to express yourself. but the truth was that the words you had written were a reflection of your darkest thoughts, the sides of yourself you kept hidden from the world. they were pieces of you that you had no intention of sharing.

“you should show us sometime,” he suggested, smiling warmly at you. you nodded, knowing full well that you never would. those words were yours alone, a private sanctuary in a life that was otherwise so public. as dinner wound down, the conversation grew quieter, the energy of the evening mellowing out. the food was nearly finished, and you pushed your plate aside, offering to help your mother clear the table. “i’ll do it,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather the empty plates.

“i’ll help,” yoongi offered, standing up almost immediately, his hands reaching for the dishes as well. you glanced at him, surprised by his sudden eagerness, but you didn’t refuse. together, the two of you worked in silence, clearing the table and bringing the dishes into the kitchen. the room was warm, filled with the lingering smells of the meal, and the only sound was the soft clinking of dishes being stacked.

as you reached for the same plate, your fingers brushed against his. the touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through your system, your breath catching in your throat. you looked up, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. his expression softened, something unreadable in his gaze, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, spreading across your cheeks. you both pulled your hands away quickly, embarrassed by the unintended contact. “sorry,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you focused on the dishes. “no, it’s fine,” yoongi replied, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there. he paused, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he simply turned away, continuing to clear the table.

the house had quieted down after dinner, the lingering smells of the meal now replaced with the comforting scent of night. you had helped your mother finish up in the kitchen, and after a few more polite exchanges with the guests, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from the long journey. your mother had given you a gentle, knowing smile, and your father had patted your shoulder, telling you to rest well. but even as you ascended the stairs, the house settling into a comfortable stillness, your thoughts were far from calm.

in your room, you began your nightly routine, each action methodical and deliberate, as if going through the motions might settle the unease in your chest. you pulled on a shirt—a soft, oversized one that hung loosely on your frame, the hem brushing against the tops of your thighs. it was one of those shirts that felt like a second skin, comforting in its familiarity. you paired it with a simple set of panties, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. the choice was practical, a blend of comfort and modesty, yet there was something almost intimate about it, a reminder of the solitude of the night.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror, the reflection showing a woman who should have been ready for sleep. but instead, your thoughts were restless, wandering to places you couldn’t quite control. you climbed into bed, the cool sheets welcoming against your warm skin, but the moment your head hit the pillow, you knew sleep would not come easily. there was something tugging at you, an inexplicable pull that you couldn’t ignore. it started as a whisper at the back of your mind, an insistent urge that grew louder with each passing moment. you told yourself it was foolish, that you should simply close your eyes and rest, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became.

before you knew it, you were slipping out of bed, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as you made your way out of your room. the house was dark, save for the faint moonlight streaming through the windows, casting long, pale shadows along the hallway. you moved quietly, the soft rustling of your shirt the only sound as you padded down the corridor, your heart beating steadily in your chest. you paused outside yoongi’s room, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the hall. you could hear him inside, the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet sound of his movements. you knew you shouldn’t be here, that you should turn around and go back to bed, but something kept you rooted to the spot.

you peered through the gap in the door, your breath catching in your throat at the sight that greeted you. yoongi was standing by the bed, his back to you, shirtless. his skin was pale, almost glowing in the soft light, his muscles defined yet subtle, the kind of physique that spoke of quiet strength. his shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist, and as he reached for a shirt, you couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps flexed, the smooth lines of his back. you knew it was wrong to look, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drawn to the way the muscles in his back moved as he pulled the shirt over his head.

it was only when he turned around, his eyes locking with yours, that you realized you had been caught. your breath hitched, a wave of heat flooding your face as you stumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed. “i—i’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, “i didn’t mean to—” but he just smiled, that familiar, soft smile that you had seen countless times before. it was a smile that was both understanding and amused, as if he found your embarrassment endearing rather than intrusive. “it’s alright,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “you don’t have to apologize.”

you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the awkwardness of the situation, but then you found your voice again. “i just wanted to wish you a good night,” you said, your tone earnest, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. his smile widened, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he replied, “good night to you too.” there was a moment of silence, the air between you thick with something unspoken, and then you nodded, offering him a small, shy smile before turning to leave. as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, the weight of it sending a shiver down your spine.

when you returned to your room, the sense of restlessness had faded, replaced by a strange, warm feeling that you couldn’t quite explain. you slipped back into bed, pulling the sheets up around you, but this time, your thoughts were quieter, your mind slowly drifting towards sleep. in the room down the hall, yoongi stood for a moment, his mind replaying the brief exchange. he chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you had grown and changed, to him, you were still that sweet, flustered angel—the same girl he had known all those years ago.

yoongi lay in the oppressive stillness of his room, his mind a tempest of conflicting emotions. the darkness enveloped him, offering no comfort, only amplifying the storm within. every attempt to find solace was met with the image of you in that absurdly tight white dress, an image that had seared itself into his consciousness with unforgiving clarity.

the sight of you—no longer the innocent child he once knew but a vision of such tantalizing allure—it was no shock when his hand found its way to his clothed dick, a silent admission of the battle he was losing. he began to stroke himself tentatively, the fabric of his boxers a barrier that only served to heighten the anticipation. his mind was a minefield of guilt and desire, each step he took towards release laden with the weight of his transgressions. he knew he should stop, that he should find some semblance of dignity and self-control, but his body was a traitor, demanding release from the prison of his own making.

his strokes grew more deliberate with his boxers gone, the friction increasing as he thought of what it would be like to touch you, to explore the softness of your skin and the heat that he was sure lay beneath. he bit his lip, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pleasure, his eyes fixed on the door that separated you from his indecent thoughts. the knowledge that you were so close only served to exacerbate his arousal, making his hand move faster and with more urgency.

his breath hitched as he imagined the moment of penetration, his cock pushing into you, feeling the warmth and wetness that was so alien to his usual solitary rituals. his hand was a poor substitute, but in the quiet of the night, it was all he had. the tension grew, a coil tightening in his balls, and he knew he was close. his thoughts grew more fervent, his strokes more frantic, until finally, with a silent groan, he reached climax.

his hand was sticky with his own release, a reminder of his failure to resist temptation. the guilt washed over him like a cold shower, leaving him trembling and ashamed. he knew he should clean up, should move on from this moment of weakness, but instead he lay there, panting and disgraced, the image of you still etched into his mind's eye. the quiet of the night was now a taunting silence, a reminder that he was alone in his depravity.

you awoke to the soft murmur of the morning light filtering through the curtains, its gentle embrace coaxing you from the depths of sleep. as you stretched languidly, you felt a sense of calm that made you smile. rising from your bed, you ribbed your eyes and padded softly down the stairs. the house was quiet, save for the faint, rhythmic ticking of a distant clock. it was a serene morning, perfect for easing into the day.

when you reached the kitchen, yoongi was already there, sitting at the table with a distracted air. his posture was rigid, and there was a certain tension in his demeanor that you couldn’t quite place. the moment you entered the room, his eyes flickered up toward you briefly before darting away. despite his efforts to look elsewhere, his gaze betrayed him, lingering far too long on your bare legs, which were still exposed, to his dismay. “good morning,” you said cheerfully, trying to set a light tone for the day. your voice was like a splash of warmth in the chilly air of the kitchen.

yoongi’s response was almost a whisper, a bare acknowledgment of your greeting. “morning.” you moved toward the coffee maker, the comforting routine of preparing breakfast a welcome distraction. “you want some coffee?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “yeah, that’d be great,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude, though it was laced with an awkwardness that made you wonder about his mood.

as you busied yourself with the coffee, you noticed the kitchen was unusually empty. your parents were absent, a fact that piqued your curiosity. “where are my parents?” you inquired, your voice carrying a note of concern. yoongi shifted slightly, as if the question had pulled him from his own thoughts. “they’re out for the day,” he said, his gaze now firmly fixed on the table, avoiding meeting your eyes.

you nodded, accepting his answer without further question. the rhythmic sound of the coffee machine filled the silence as you went about your task. when you reached for the sugar, you bent over to retrieve it from the cabinet. the movement was casual, a natural part of your routine, but you were acutely aware of yoongi’s intense gaze. the breath caught in his throat was audible, a sharp intake of air that seemed to punctuate the otherwise silent kitchen. he watched the way your shirt rose, faltering just above your hips, giving him a view of your thighs pressed together, ass hanging in the air with nothing but a pair of stupidly red panties adorning your skin.

it struck you then that yoongi’s reaction was more than mere surprise. it was as if he was struggling to maintain composure, as though he thought you were doing this deliberately to tease him. but you weren’t aware of any such intent; it was simply the way you moved. you straightened up with the sugar and continued preparing the coffee. when you finally handed him his cup, his eyes met yours for a fleeting moment. despite the lack of makeup, you felt a surge of confidence in his presence. his eyes softened, and there was a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at his lips as he took the cup from you.

he cleared his throat, his voice tentative as he ventured into a new topic. “so, i’ve been meaning to ask about your writing. you seemed hesitant to talk about it last night.” you chuckled softly, the sound light and airy. “my writing is a product of all my worst parts,” you said with a shrug, attempting to downplay its significance.

yoongi’s eyebrows knitted together, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i don’t believe you have any bad parts,” he said earnestly, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the truth. you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “you’d be surprised,” you replied. “there are things that even the closest people don’t see.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease. you felt a familiar sense of safety in his presence, as if no time had passed since the days when you had felt so secure in his company. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the casual conversation, made you feel as though the world outside had paused just for the two of you.

you prepared for a day by the pool with a casual elegance, slipping into a bikini that showcased your figure with a subtle confidence. over it, you draped a sheer cover—a delicate, airy jacket that fluttered with every movement, its only purpose to add a touch of grace rather than offer any real coverage. the fabric was almost ethereal, catching the sunlight with each step you took, giving you an otherworldly aura.

descending the stairs, you made your way back to the living room, where you spotted yoongi. the moment you entered his line of sight, he looked up, and the breath caught in his throat. his eyes widened, a visible shift in his demeanor as he took in the sight of you. his heart seemed to drop, overwhelmed by the sight of you in your swimwear, the sheer cover highlighting your figure in a way that was both mesmerizing and painfully distracting.

with a cheerful smile, you called out to him, “hey, i’m gonna be by the pool. if you need anything, i’ll be around.” he nodded, his response barely audible, as if his mind was struggling to catch up with the reality of the moment. there was a heavy silence between you, filled with unspoken tension, as you turned and made your way outside.

once by the pool, you settled into a lounge chair, stretching out and letting the warmth of the sun envelop you. the heat should have been palpable, but your thoughts were consumed by yoongi. the sun’s rays might have been intense, but they barely registered in your consciousness compared to the whirlwind of thoughts about him. your mind drifted, replaying moments with him, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you.

the quiet of the morning was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. you turned your head, squinting against the sunlight to see yoongi emerging from the house. he was shirtless, the warmth of the sun glistening off his skin. in each hand, he carried a glass—one for him and one for you. you couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of him, the way his physique was revealed in the sunlight adding a new layer of intensity to your already tangled feelings.

he reached you and offered one of the glasses with a slight, nervous smile. “i brought you something to drink. vodka lemonade.” you accepted the glass with a grateful smile, the cool drink a welcome relief from the heat. “thank you,” you said, taking a sip and savoring the refreshing taste.

he sat down beside you, his own drink in hand. there was a hesitant chuckle in his voice as he remarked, “i can’t believe i’m watching you drink. it’s kind of surreal.” you laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “i’m not a little girl anymore,” you said, glancing at him with a playful glint in your eye. “can you believe it?”

yoongi’s laughter was nervous, a strained attempt at casualness. “yeah, i can,” he replied, though the lie was almost tangible in the way he avoided your gaze. oh, if only you had known just how deeply his words conflicted with his inner reality. the poolside atmosphere was serene, the gentle ripples of the water reflecting the sunlight and adding a soothing background to your conversation. you sipped your drink, feeling the cool liquid contrast pleasantly with the warmth of the sun on your skin. yoongi sat close beside you, the space between you charged with an undercurrent of unresolved tension.

the heat of the sun was almost unbearable, and you found yourself shifting restlessly on the lounge chair. the coolness of the vodka lemonade was not enough to quell the growing discomfort you felt. it wasn’t merely the oppressive heat that was troubling you; there was an unsettling awareness that you had developed feelings for yoongi, and it was all too complicated. you knew it was wrong, knew you shouldn’t feel this way, but the truth was undeniable.

rising from the lounge chair, you decided to seek refuge in the kitchen. the cool interior of the house was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. you carried both glasses with you, their contents now barely touching the bottom of the tumblers. as you walked through the house, you could feel the tension in your steps, an eagerness to escape your own thoughts and the weight of your emotions.

once in the kitchen, you set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle of vodka and the jug of lemonade. the motion of pouring the vodka into the lemonade, the swirl of the liquid mixing together, was almost meditative. yet, the comfort of the routine did little to ease the restlessness simmering within you. in an effort to cool off, you discarded your sheer cover, letting it fall onto a nearby chair. the fabric slid off your shoulders and pooled on the seat, leaving you in your bikini once more.

the heat of the kitchen seemed to intensify as you stirred the drink, but it wasn't just the temperature that was making you sweat. you were grappling with the undeniable reality that you had feelings for yoongi—feelings that were supposed to be off-limits. the conflict inside you was almost as unbearable as the heat itself. he was quite literally your father's best friend, you had to keep repeating that to yourself, praying for some sort of voice of reason.

just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps alerted you to yoongi’s presence. you turned to find him standing at the kitchen entrance, his eyes fixed on you. for a moment, time seemed to freeze. your heart leaped in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that had been swirling within you. you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “are you okay?” you asked, the words slipping out with a hint of vulnerability.

his gaze was intense, almost pained as he took a step closer. he shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “how can i be okay?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “with you like this around me, for the next month?” the words hung between you, charged with a tension that neither of you seemed able to escape. Your heart pounded as you processed the implication of his statement. it was clear now—he was feeling the same struggle, the same undeniable pull that you were.

you pressed your lips together, trying to find the right words. “i can’t handle it either,” you admitted quietly, the weight of your own confession settling over you. “but it feels so wrong.” to your surprise, yoongi closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. his hands reached out, gripping your waist with a firmness that was both reassuring and electrifying. his gaze was locked onto yours, filled with a blend of longing and resolve.

without another word, he pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was sudden, a powerful surge of emotion that seemed to silence every other thought in your mind. his touch was both demanding and tender, his lips moving with a desperate intensity that spoke volumes. when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours with an almost anxious urgency. “does it still feel wrong?” he asked, his voice a low, husky murmur.

the question hung in the air, and without thinking, you responded by closing the space between you again. you pressed your lips against his, this time with a fierceness that matched the tumult of your feelings. the kiss was fervent, each movement a declaration of the emotions that had been kept in check for far too long.

his hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body, lingering on your breasts. the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin made you gasp into his mouth. yoongi took advantage of the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. you could feel the hunger in his touch, the need that mirrored your own.

his thumbs grazed your nipples, eliciting a moan from your throat. the sound seemed to drive him wild, and his touch grew more insistent. he pinched and rolled your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. your pussy grew wetter with each touch, and you found yourself grinding against his thigh, seeking relief from the growing ache.

his hands slid down to your waist, then under the fabric of your bikini bottom. with a swift motion, he pulled it aside, exposing your wet, eager pussy to the cool kitchen air. the contrast made you shiver, and you felt his cock harden against your stomach. the reality of what was happening was overwhelming, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the feel of his hands on you, the taste of him, the promise of what was to come.

you broke the kiss, panting. “right here?” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. yoongi nodded, his eyes dark with lust. “right here, right now,” he confirmed, his voice a gruff whisper. he stepped back, guiding you towards the kitchen counter. “i need to taste you,” he said, his gaze dropping to your pussy.

his words sent a thrill through you, and you eagerly climbed onto the counter. your legs parted, and he stepped between them, his eyes feasting on the sight before him. you watched as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin. then, his tongue touched you. the sensation was exquisite, sending shockwaves through your body. you grabbed onto the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you held on for dear life.

his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and probing, as his fingers delved deeper into your pussy. you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening in anticipation. the air was thick with the scent of your arousal, and your moans filled the kitchen. it was all so wrong, but it felt so incredibly right.

his eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire to claim you in every way possible. without a second thought, you leaned back, exposing your throat. “choke me,” you begged, the words slipping out on a breathless whisper. yoongi’s eyes flared with surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. his hand wrapped around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you feel both safe and utterly vulnerable.

his mouth returned to your pussy, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. the feeling of his hand on your throat, the way he controlled your breathing, was intoxicating. your orgasm built, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over you. and when it finally hit, it was like nothing you had ever felt before—intense, all-consuming, and absolutely filthy.

his mouth remained on you, even as you gasped for air, his tongue lapping up every drop of your release. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. “you gonna help me out, too?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “gonna suck my cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do?”

you slid off the counter, your legs wobbly from the intensity of your climax. dropping to your knees, you looked up at him, his cock standing proud and hard before you. without hesitation, you took him in your mouth, the taste of your juices mingling with the salty tang of his skin. his hand found its way to the back of your head, guiding you deeper. “fuck, princess, just like that,” he hissed, his grip tightening. you could feel his cock thicken in your mouth, and the power of the moment was exhilarating. you sucked and licked, eager to please him, to show him how much you wanted this.

his hips began to rock, fucking your mouth with an increasing urgency, his head embracing the back of your throat. you didn't care, you had all the reasons in the world to stop and set boundaries, but even more not too. he pulled at your hair, grunting with his heavy cock splitting your throat open. he looked down at you, your teary eyes and puffy lips, and it only made it worse for him, his cock throbbing in your mouth, but he couldn't cum like that. he needed to feel you, to tear you apart, to ensure that you'd never look for that kind of control from any other boy. nobody but him, he was the perfect pick. you needed somebody just a little bit older.

his cock slipped out of your mouth with a wet pop, and before you could even gasp for air, he turned you around, pressing you against the counter. his hand found its way into your bikini again, two thick fingers plunging into your pussy. you felt yourself stretch around him, your body begging for more. “you're soaked,” he murmured, his voice filled with a dark kind of glee. “you're gonna be the death of me.” you pushed back against his hand, wanting him to go deeper, to fill the ache that had only been heightened by his touch. “please,” you moaned, the word barely coherent as it slipped from your lips. “i need you.”

yoongi stepped closer, his body pressing against your back. “you're gonna get me,” he promised, his voice gruff with desire. he removed his fingers and lined up his cock, pressing the head against your entrance. he hadn't even pushed past your sopping folds yet, and you were already a mess. you felt him enter you, inch by inch, stretching you out. it was painful and perfect all at once, his girth splitting you open, filling you up in a way that made you feel so full, so alive. you bit your lip to stifle a scream as he pushed deeper, until he was fully seated inside you. your pussy clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to never let him go.

his hand returned to your throat, squeezing gently as he began to move. the counter was cold against your stomach, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was the way he filled you, the way his cock slammed into you with each powerful thrust. his other hand snaked around your body, playing with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

his grip tightened on your throat, cutting off your air. you felt the panic rise, but it only made you wetter. “you like that, don't you?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you like being choked while i fuck you?” your eyes rolled back in your head, and you nodded frantically. it was sick, it was twisted, but you didn't care. it felt too good to think about stopping.

his strokes grew faster, more erratic, his breathing ragged in your ear. “i'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. “where do you want it?” you choked out the words, “inside me,” and he growled his approval. with one final, powerful thrust, he released his grip on your throat, and you felt his warmth flood into you. your body convulsed around him, your own orgasm ripping through you with a ferocity that left you trembling.

his cock remained buried inside you as he leaned over, pressing his sweat-slicked chest against your back. “all mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “mine to fuck, to fill up with my cum.” your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop he had to give. the thought of his cum inside you, claiming you, made your core throb with a deep, primal need.

his cock slid out of you, and you felt the emptiness acutely. but before you could protest, he was pushing his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth. “have a taste,” he demanded, and you eagerly complied. the taste was salty and bitter, but it only served to drive you wild. your eyes watered as you sucked on his digits, cleaning them thoroughly.

he pulled away, his fingers tugging your bikini bottom up, the fabric pushing his sticky cum further into your sore cunt. “keep it in,” he ordered, his eyes dark and possessive. “i don't want my cum to spill out of that tight little cunt.” you nodded, standing on shaky legs. he reached out, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to his. “good girl,” he praised, his eyes searching yours.

you stepped away from the counter, the stickiness between your legs a constant reminder of what had just happened. your bikini was askew, and your body was still flushed with arousal. yoongi reached out, gently adjusting your bottoms to cover your swollen pussy. “don't tell anyone,” he whispered, his eyes serious. “this is our little secret.” you nodded, your throat tight with the promise of more to come. the air was thick with the scent of sex, and the kitchen felt different now—like a sacred space where you had both lost and found something in the heat of passion. “i won't,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “but what happens now?”

yoongi leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “now,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “we do this again, and again. until we can't get enough of each other.” his hand slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it possessively. “you're mine, and i have no intention of letting you go.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and fear. you knew this was wrong, knew that it could ruin everything, but the feeling of his cum inside you, his claim on your body, was too tempting to resist. you were in too deep, and you had no intention of climbing out

the hours stretched interminably, the passage of time marked only by the shifting light that filtered through the windows. you found yourself drifting between contemplation and restlessness, your thoughts endlessly circling the intimacy you had shared with yoongi. the weight of the moment, the raw intensity of the sex, seemed to press down on you with an almost unbearable gravity.

you had retreated to your room, seeking solace in its familiar confines. the bed, once a place of comfort, now felt like a vessel of confusion and regret. you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the room around you bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. your mind was a turbulent sea, tossing around memories of the kiss, the touch of his hands on your waist, and the conflicted look in his eyes. the sex, though fleeting, had been a revelation, an unspoken admission of what lay between you, and the enormity of it was daunting.

every time you closed your eyes, his face would appear, his gaze filled with a mixture of longing and anguish. the guilt that gnawed at you was mirrored by his own struggle. you had noticed it earlier when he had walked away from the kitchen, his shoulders slumped and his expression a portrait of internal conflict. it was clear that he was grappling with the same turmoil that had taken root within you.

the silence of the room was occasionally broken by the vibrations of your phone. the pings were a jarring intrusion into your contemplation, each one a reminder of the world outside your cocoon of worry. finally, when you reached for your phone, you found a message from taehyung, a friend whose exuberance was a contrast to the somber mood you were engulfed in. it read, “hey! i heard you’re back in daegu. i’m at the club tonight, and it’s been a while. you should come out and join me.”

the simplicity of taehyung’s invitation, the promise of an evening away from your internal strife, was like a breath of fresh air. it was exactly what you needed to escape the relentless spiral of guilt and self-reproach that had been consuming you. the thought of a night at the club, surrounded by friends and lost in the rhythm of music, was a welcome distraction, a way to momentarily forget the weight of your decisions and the confusion surrounding your feelings for yoongi.

without hesitation, you texted him back, accepting his invitation with a mix of relief and eagerness. the prospect of spending a night out, dancing and socializing, offered a tangible remedy to the unease that had settled so heavily upon you. in the privacy of your room, you stood in front of the mirror, preparing for a night out at the club. you had carefully chosen an outfit that was both stylish and expressive of your current mood—a sleek, black dress with a daring neckline that accentuated your figure, paired with heels that added just the right amount of allure. the dress clung to your curves in a way that felt both confident and liberating, each movement highlighting the grace you carried with you.

you applied your makeup with a meticulous touch, opting for a smoky eye that added a touch of glamour, and a bold lip color that completed the look. each brushstroke was a deliberate effort to transform yourself into someone who could temporarily escape the heaviness of recent days. the final touch was a pair of sparkling earrings that caught the light as you moved, completing your ensemble with a flourish.

as you finished getting ready, you heard the faint sounds of yoongi moving about in his room across the hall. you knew he was there, but the emotional weight of your recent interactions had kept you from directly addressing him. yonight was about reclaiming a sense of normalcy and fun, and the club seemed like the perfect escape. as you prepared to leave, you crossed the hall to grab a quick look at your reflection in the full-length mirror one last time. just as you turned, yoongi’s door opened slightly. he stepped into the hallway, his eyes widening in surprise as they took in the sight of you.

“where are you off to?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity mingled with an undertone of something else—something darker. you flashed him a bright, carefree smile, trying to inject a sense of lightness into the conversation. “taehyung is taking me to a club tonight,” you said, your voice cheerful despite the undercurrent of unease you felt.

his reaction was immediate. a flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a strained smile. “okay,” he replied, his voice barely concealing the tension that simmered beneath his words. “have a good time.” you nodded, feeling a pang of guilt at his subdued reaction, but the promise of a night out with friends was too alluring to ignore. you offered a final smile before turning and walking down the stairs, the click of your heels echoing in the quiet house.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a refreshing contrast to the warm interior. taehyung was waiting by his car, his face lighting up with a friendly grin as he saw you approach. he stepped out of the vehicle, and the two of you exchanged a warm hug. his arms encircled you in a friendly embrace, his laughter ringing out as he playfully commented on how good you looked.

from the window, yoongi watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. he saw the way taehyung looked at you, the way his eyes lingered on you with an admiration that seemed to cut through the night’s darkness. the casual familiarity of your hug, the easy way taehyung interacted with you, ignited a smoldering frustration within yoongi. he clenched his fists, trying to suppress the bubbling anger that rose within him. it wasn’t just the sight of you with someone else—it was the way taehyung’s gaze seemed to hold a mixture of affection and possessiveness that yoongi found almost unbearable. every movement, every gesture, seemed to etch itself into his memory with a burning intensity.

as you and taehyung got into the car and drove away, yoongi’s eyes remained fixed on the scene. the darkness of the night and the dim streetlights cast long shadows, but his thoughts were sharp and clear. the image of taehyung’s hug, the warmth and ease between the two of you, was seared into his mind, adding fuel to the smoldering frustration that had taken root within him.

the club was a pulsating whirl of neon lights and thumping bass, the energy of the crowd vibrating through the floor and into your very bones. the air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume and sweat, and the faint haze of smoke from the fog machines created an almost dreamlike atmosphere. music reverberated through every corner, a relentless beat that drove the rhythm of the night.

you and taehyung arrived to a warm welcome from the crowd, who greeted you with a mix of admiration and excitement. the club’s patrons had clearly heard of your return to daegu, and you were immediately swept up in the buzz of their enthusiasm. as you made your way through the throng of bodies, taehyung by your side, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of flashing lights and lively chatter.

at the bar, you signed another autograph, your signature fluid and practiced as you scrawled your name on a series of glossy photos and memorabilia. taehyung stood beside you, his laughter a comforting sound amid the chaos. “i’ll never get used to this,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. his eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. you chuckled softly, the sound almost lost amidst the cacophony of the club. “neither will i,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. the constant attention, the flashes of cameras, it all felt a bit surreal, a reminder of the world you had momentarily stepped away from.

his expression softened as he glanced at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. “why so down?” he asked, his tone gentle but inquisitive. you hesitated for a moment, the weight of your recent experiences heavy on your shoulders. “it’s a long story,” you replied, not willing to delve into the complexities of your emotions right now.

his eyes showed a glimmer of understanding, and he didn’t press further. instead, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “well, don’t let it ruin tonight. you’re here to have fun, remember? just let go and enjoy yourself for once.” his encouragement was a lifeline, and you took it to heart. you smiled at him, gratitude mingling with the resolve to let the night’s energy lift you from your thoughts. “okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “let’s do this.”

the two of you moved towards the dance floor, the pulsating rhythm of the music beckoning you closer. as you stepped onto the floor, the crowd seemed to part and then close around you, a living sea of people moving in sync with the beat. he slipped into the rhythm effortlessly, his movements fluid and confident. you followed his lead, allowing the music to wash over you and carry away the remnants of your lingering worries.

the lights above shifted in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting dynamic patterns across the dance floor. you lost yourself in the beat, your body swaying and twisting in time with the music. the beats were relentless, and as you danced, you felt the strain of the day’s emotions slowly dissolve, replaced by the exhilaration of the moment. the music seemed to resonate with something deep inside you, a reminder of the joy and freedom that had once been so familiar.

you occasionally glanced at taehyung, who was clearly having a blast. his infectious energy was a bright spot in the evening, and his carefree dancing seemed to pull you further into the night’s festivities. every now and then, he would catch your eye and flash a grin, as if to say, “see? isn’t this fun?”

as the night wore on, you took a break from dancing to grab a drink. the bar was bustling with activity, and the bartender quickly mixed a vibrant cocktail that was both refreshing and potent. you sipped the drink, feeling its coolness slide down your throat, and let the alcohol take the edge off your remaining anxieties. the conversation around you was a pleasant hum, and you found yourself engaging in light, cheerful banter with a few fellow partygoers.

every once in a while, you would catch sight of taehyung making his way through the crowd, often surrounded by a small group of admirers. his laughter and charisma were magnetic, drawing people in and creating an atmosphere of shared joy. you were grateful for his presence, his ability to make the night feel lighter and more enjoyable.

the night continued in a blur of music, dancing, and shared moments of joy. you felt a renewed sense of connection with taehyung and the people around you, a reminder that even amidst personal turmoil, there was still space for fun and camaraderie. as the hours passed and the club’s lights began to dim, signaling the approach of closing time, you felt a sense of contentment.

stepping outside into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, savoring the contrast between the heated club and the refreshing outside air. he stood beside you, his expression one of satisfaction and camaraderie. “see? that wasn’t so bad,” he said, nudging you playfully. you smiled, feeling a genuine sense of relief. “thanks for getting me out tonight,” you said. “i needed this.”

his grin widened. “anytime. let’s just make sure you don’t stay cooped up forever. there’s a lot more fun to be had.” as you both made your way to the car, the night felt lighter, and the burdens of the past few days seemed a little more manageable. the club had provided the distraction you needed, and as you drove away with taehyung, you allowed yourself to savor the fleeting moments of carefree joy that the night had offered.

in the stillness of the living room, the ticking of the clock seemed to echo louder with each passing second. yoongi sat slouched on the sofa, the dim light from the table lamp casting shadows across his face. his fingers fumbled with a can of beer, the metallic crumple of the empty container a testament to his mounting frustration. it was two in the morning, and you still hadn't come home. the silence of the house was oppressive, amplifying his anxiety and gnawing at his thoughts.

had something happened to you? had a stranger taken you for the night? the possibilities raced through his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. the quietness of the house was occasionally interrupted by the distant hum of the refrigerator or the soft rustle of the curtains, but these sounds did little to soothe his growing unease.

he watched the second hand of the clock tick away, each movement a reminder of the time slipping by. his fingers drummed impatiently against his knee, and the empty beer cans scattered on the table beside him were a reminder of how long he’d been waiting. the weight of his concern grew heavier with each passing minute, turning into an almost unbearable pressure.

finally, a sound broke through the silence—the unmistakable click of the front door opening. yoongi’s head snapped up, his heart racing with a mixture of relief and frustration. he watched as you stumbled into the living room, your movements unsteady and your eyes slightly glazed. the sight of you brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger.

you wobbled slightly as you approached him, your gaze softening as you took in his presence. with a tired but genuine smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. “i missed you,” you murmured, your voice thick with the effects of too many martinis. he let out a low chuckle, his amusement tinged with exasperation. “you smell like alcohol,” he observed, his tone more resigned than accusatory.

you frowned slightly and gestured towards the table where the empty beer cans lay. “and you’re no better,” you retorted, a playful edge to your words despite your unsteady stance. he raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “what were you doing at the club for so long?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

you shrugged, your arms still draped around his neck. “having fun,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your voice. he scoffed, a small smile playing on his lips. “with who?” he demanded, his tone edged with a hint of jealousy.

you grinned, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “with taehyung,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue with an affectionate lilt. his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. to your surprise, he reached out and gently lifted you up, placing you onto his lap. the movement was deliberate, his hold firm but gentle as he settled you comfortably. “with taehyung, huh?” he said, his voice low and contemplative as he looked at you.

you nodded shyly, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. “yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his gaze lingered on you, a conflicted mix of emotions evident in his eyes. “you two must be pretty close, huh?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of possessiveness.

you nodded again, feeling the intensity of his stare. “we’re friends,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering effects of the alcohol. his eyes darkened slightly, his frustration evident. “i don’t like that,” he said, his tone firm and resolute.

you tilted your head slightly, leaning into his touch as you pressed closer to him. “why not?” you asked, your voice soft and inquisitive. his hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing gently against your skin. “friends who look at you the way he does,” he said, his voice a low whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. he paused, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued, “make my blood boil.”

your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, the warmth of his breath mingling with the softness of his lips. the sensation was intoxicating, drawing you closer to him. without further hesitation, yoongi closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. the kiss was both urgent and tender, a mixture of the longing and frustration that had been building between you. his arms encircled you, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away.

the kiss deepened, his fingers tangling in your hair as he explored the softness of your lips. it was a moment of pure connection, a release of the emotions that had been pent up for too long. the intensity of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, made you feel as though nothing else mattered in that moment.

his hand slid down to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you onto his lap. the fabric of your black dress was thin, offering little resistance to his touch. you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, a silent declaration of his desire. your breath hitched in your throat as his hand moved higher, cupping your breast through the material. your nipples were already hard, begging for his attention.

without breaking the kiss, yoongi reached down and began to tug at the hem of your dress. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he pulled it up over your head, leaving you in just your lacy black lingerie. the sight of you half-dressed was almost too much for him to handle. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. his hands roamed over your curves, his fingers tracing the lace of your panties. as he pulled them down, he caught a glimpse of the cum stain from earlier, a pleasant reminder of what he had done. his eyes flashed with possessive lust as he took in the sight of his dry cum on the fabric. “took it like such a good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

his hands found your hips, guiding you onto his waiting erection. the sensation of skin on skin was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. he was rougher this time, his movements urgent and demanding. with each thrust, he slapped your pussy, the sound echoing in the quiet room. the stinging sensation only served to heighten your arousal, making you moan louder with each hit.

his hands gripped your waist, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you riding him like a wave. the feeling of his cock filling you up was almost too much to bear, but you craved more. your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons in his skin as you leaned back, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

his dirty talk grew more intense, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. “don’t wanna see you with anymore boys,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “they won’t ever get to have you like this.” the words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, your walls tightening around him as you neared climax. his strokes grew more erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he approached his own release. you could feel him swelling inside you, his muscles tensing as he fought to hold back. but you were beyond caring about his control, your own need overwhelming any thought of restraint.

he took sight of the way his cock buried itself in your stomach, the outline evident. it was enoufh to make his dick twitch, he could practically see it happening. finally, with a guttural groan, he let go, filling you with his hot cum. the sensation pushed you over the edge, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. tears streamed down your face, not from pain, but from the intensity of the pleasure that consumed you. as you collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air, you realized that this was the most alive you had ever felt.

“we need to stop doing this,” you exhaled softly, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. “stop?” he echoed, his voice gruff and surprised.

“it’s complicated enough already,” you murmured, your heart racing from the aftershocks of your climax. his grip on your waist tightened, his cock still pulsing inside you. “i don’t want us to stop,” he said, his voice unyielding. “is it such a crime to want you all to myself?”

his words sent a thrill through you, but also a pang of fear. you knew the consequences of your actions, the web of lies and deceit that would unravel if anyone found out. yet, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the way he made you feel alive and desired in a way no one else ever had. you pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the present, the warmth of his embrace, the scent of your mingled arousal, and the sticky mess between your legs. it was a mess you didn’t want to clean up, a mess that was a testament to your shared passion.

his hands began to move again, stroking your body with a gentle fierceness that made your skin tingle. he knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you ache for more. his fingers traced the path of his earlier possession, the cum stain on your panties now a wet smear as he slid his digits through it.

you gasped as he brought his hand up to your face, your own cum glistening on his fingers. before you could protest, he brought them to your mouth and slid them in, urging you to taste. the sweet and salty flavor filled your mouth, and you felt a wave of submission wash over you. his other hand found your clit, his thumb flicking and circling the sensitive nub as he began to thrust into you once more. his cock was still hard, the friction of his earlier release only adding to the intensity of the moment.

you couldn’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you gave in to the sensations. the room spun around you, your body no longer your own as he claimed you over and over again. it was a rough, animalistic fucking that made you feel more alive than you ever had. his slaps grew more forceful, his words more demanding. “say it,” he ordered, his voice harsh in your ear. “say you’re mine, only mine.”

“yoongi,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m yours, only yours.” his pace quickened, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his second climax. you could feel his balls tightening, his body coiling like a spring ready to release. with a final, desperate groan, he emptied himself inside you, his cum mixing with your juices.

you collapsed onto him a second time, your body trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction. the room was still, the only sound the harshness of your breathing and the thundering of your hearts. for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you, lost in a sea of passion and desire. but reality would come crashing back soon enough, with the light of day and the harsh truth of your actions. for now, though, you were his, and he was yours, bound by a secret that neither of you could escape.

you sat at your desk, the dim light of your lamp casting a soft glow over the pages of your journal. the room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the pages as you turned them, the only sound breaking the silence of your introspective evening. the journal was your refuge, the place where you poured out your grief and unspoken pain, each word a release of the emotions that had been bottled up for too long.

your pen moved across the page in a hurried scrawl, the ink reflecting the depth of your sorrow. you wrote about the ache of missing your old self, the pressure of expectations unmet, and the weight of a future that seemed increasingly uncertain. tears blurred your vision, making the words on the page dance and waver. each tear that fell onto the paper seemed to absorb the rawness of your emotions, the ink smudging as your sorrow seeped into the pages.

you had shared so much with those sheets of paper, details of your grief that had remained unspoken. it was as if the journal was an extension of your heart, a place where your deepest fears and frustrations could find solace. but tonight, the act of writing felt especially cathartic and painful, the tears falling freely as you bared your soul to the empty pages.

the sound of footsteps from downstairs interrupted your solitude. you closed the journal and wiped your eyes hastily, trying to regain composure as you headed towards the staircase. the air downstairs was cooler, and the distant clinking of dishes and murmurs of conversation signaled that your mother was awake.

as you descended the stairs, you saw her seated at the kitchen table, her gaze directed towards the window. yoongi was in the living room, his presence a silent comfort in the midst of the familial tension. you greeted them quietly, your heart heavy with the emotions that you had tried so hard to contain. your mother looked up as you entered the kitchen, her expression unreadable. “how’s work?” she asked, her tone neutral but carrying a hint of concern. “when do you have to go back?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “i’ll be going back after the month passes,” you replied, forcing a calmness that didn’t match the turmoil inside you. she nodded, but there was a shadow of disapproval in her eyes. “i prayed for your success, you know,” she said. “but i wish you had chosen a different path—one that’s more respectable. you could have been a doctor, a lawyer, someone who makes a real difference. instead, you’re just posing for a camera.”

the words struck you like a physical blow, each syllable a reminder of the gap between your aspirations and her expectations. your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, your heart aching with the weight of her judgment. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the apology feeling inadequate in the face of her disapproval. her gaze softened slightly, but the damage was done. the conversation had laid bare the fact that no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you achieved, your mother’s acceptance was always just out of reach. the realization was a sharp, stinging reminder of the ongoing struggle to reconcile your dreams with her expectations.

without a word, you excused yourself from the room, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on your shoulders. you moved with a sense of urgency towards the bathroom, needing a moment away from the prying eyes and the crushing disappointment. in the bathroom, the cool, sterile light offered little comfort as you shut the door behind you. you leaned against the sink, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the tap, letting the water run until it became a soothing backdrop to your tears. the tears came freely now, each drop a release of the pain you had been holding inside. the harsh brightness of the bathroom seemed to amplify your emotions, every sob echoing in the stillness of the room.

you closed your eyes tightly, letting the tears flow unabated. the mirror reflected your tear-streaked face, the red-rimmed eyes a testament to the depth of your grief. you took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had been stirred up by your mother’s words. the tears were a release, a way of letting go of the pent-up frustration and sadness. as the sobs began to subside, you found solace in the simple act of crying, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your mother’s disapproval and the grief of your own unmet expectations. you knew that the moment of vulnerability was a necessary part of your healing process, a way to confront and process the emotions that had been building up inside you.

yoongi's heart felt heavy with the weight of the earlier conversation. his concern for you had deepened, and he felt an overwhelming urge to understand more about what you were going through. his feet, driven by a mix of worry and compassion, carried him towards your room. the door creaked open slowly, and yoongi stepped into the space that was so intimately yours. the room was bathed in a soft glow from a lamp on your nightstand, its light gently illuminating the walls adorned with photographs. his eyes were immediately drawn to the collection of images, a testament to the life you had lived.

photos of you as a little girl lined one wall, capturing moments of innocence and joy. in some, you were caught in candid laughter, a radiant smile lighting up your face. others showed you at milestones, each image a snapshot of a time before the complexities of adulthood began to weigh heavily on you. yoongi’s chest tightened at the sight, a pang of sorrow stirring in his stomach. it was impossible not to feel the ache of how much you had grown, how far you had come from that wide-eyed child full of dreams.

next to those nostalgic images were more recent photos—of you as you were now, your beauty more striking than ever, yet layered with an undeniable sadness. each photograph seemed to tell a story of its own, a reflection of the woman you had become. his heart ached at the contrast between the vibrant child in the old pictures and the poignant figure in the more recent ones. it was clear that beneath the surface of your radiant exterior lay a deep, unresolved pain.

his gaze was drawn to the desk, where he saw your journal resting atop a pile of neatly stacked papers. he hesitated for a moment, knowing it was a violation of your privacy, but the pull of his concern was stronger. with trembling hands, he opened the journal, its pages warm from the gentle light of the lamp.

the first entry his eyes fell upon was a stark revelation of your inner turmoil, “i want to die, doesn’t everyone?” the words were raw and haunting, a glimpse into the depths of your suffering. yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he read on, his heart breaking with each line. you had written about sleepless nights, about the emptiness that came with a lack of meals, and the guilt you felt for your suffering despite having what many would envy. the words were a vivid portrait of your struggle, painting a picture of the pain you had carried alone.

further along, you wrote about your mother, your conflicted feelings towards her. despite her love, you had felt her disapproval, her preference for a different path for you. the way you described your feelings of inadequacy, the yearning for acceptance, cut deep into yoongi’s heart. each entry was a window into a world of quiet desperation, a reflection of your most private fears and regrets.

as his eyes scanned the entries, he felt a profound sadness. the weight of your words, the anguish you had poured onto the pages, seemed to press down on him with a crushing force. he was lost in the depth of your pain when he heard the softest of voices behind him. “it’s stupid, isn’t it?” he turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, a sad smile on your face, the remnants of tears still visible on your cheeks. his heart ached even more seeing you like that, so vulnerable and exposed. he took a step towards you, his face reflecting a mix of anguish and determination.

“nothing you feel could ever be stupid,” he said gently, his voice laden with sincerity. his hand reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “why didn’t you tell me about this? why didn’t you share any of this with me?” you shrugged, your gaze falling to the floor as if it held the answers you couldn’t articulate. “i always had a feeling i’d never live long,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

yoongi’s breath caught at your words. the notion that you felt such a finality in your existence was more than he could bear. without thinking, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug was a physical manifestation of his anguish and his need to offer you comfort. he stiffened as he held you, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders. “never say that again,” he whispered fiercely into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “is that really what you want? to leave me alone, to fight it all in silence?”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “i’d give anything to be the little girl you remember,” you admitted between sobs. “i miss her more than anyone.”

his heart broke at your admission. he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his own filled with an earnest intensity. “you should be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him. “that little girl would be so proud of you. and no one could be more proud than i am.”

you looked at him, searching his face for any trace of insincerity, but all you found was a deep, unwavering conviction. “you really think so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “yes,” he affirmed, his eyes locked onto yours with a warmth that seemed to dispel the shadows of doubt. “she would be proud, but nobody could be as proud as me. you’ve grown into someone incredible, someone who has faced so much and still stands strong.”

in that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a sense of comfort and acceptance that had been elusive for so long. his words, filled with genuine admiration and affection, offered a glimmer of hope amid the lingering darkness. you clung to the promise in his voice, the promise that despite everything, you were valued, you were loved, and you were worthy of pride.

✧.*

a/n: a shorter one lol a dabble if u will

[sugarycandies]

Late Night Drive (Yoongi x Reader)

Rating: 18+ (MDNI)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, PWNP

Contains: Dom!Yoongi, Oral (m. and f. receiving), Slight Breeding Kink, Slight Degradation, Slight Exhibition

Synopsis: Y/N was extremely teasing. Both were impatient, so the car would have to do.

—

It took him two seconds getting into the car.

“We’re going home,” he growled, turning the key and flipping on the headlights as he drove down the road.

“Baby,” she whined, looking over to Yoongi.

The entire night she had been playing a game of cat and mouse with her boyfriend. (Y/N), the entire night, was fully aware of the glances that Yoongi kept giving her throughout the night while she sat through the double date they had planned with Jungkook and his girlfriend. By the first round of drinks, her hand had rested on Yoongi’s thigh. By the main course, it was reaching further and further up into the inter thigh, resting there, a pinky grazing upon a bulge that was beginning to grow.

Yoongi was madly pissed about it, not even words could fully explain how truly pissed he was. She was not going to get away with acting like that in public, Yoongi wouldn’t allow it for a second.

During the meal, he had grabbed her hand, forcing it back down, and squishing her thigh between his big hand.

“Just wait until we get home.”

By the time they found themselves in the car, Yoongi’s grip on the steering wheel as he kept his eyes directly on the road was so rough his knuckles had gone white.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had began to occupy herself. She was begging for it the entire night, and her clit was practically pulsing underneath her panties, begging for attention. She even picked out the beautiful velvety red ones that she knew Yoongi liked more than any other pair.

“Can’t you just pull over?” She begged again, “I know you want it as bad as I do,” she pleaded.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” he scoffed, not even parting eyes to her again, “Did all of this just to rile me up? Did you even want to go on the date with Jungkook or just sleep with me.”

“You know I love date nights with you, Yoongs,” (Y/N) mumbled, reaching to move her legs up against the dashboard, her heels coming off as well, “I just thought the stars were pretty enough to fuck under.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he sharply inhaled. (Y/N) knew that sentence got him good.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered under his breath, but still kept driving.

Now begging for a release, (Y/N) slowly reached her hand underneath the fabric of her tight black dress; it had begun to rise up due to her legs being kicked upwards. Underneath Yoongi could see out of the corner of his eyes the red peaking out from beneath, the stark contrast.

“Are you sure you want to wait until we get home?” She whispered, “It wouldn’t be as fun then.”

Yoongi moved and slowed down his driving a bit, it was late at night so there were practically no cars out. One hand tightened his grip on the steering wheel, while the other moved to grasp onto (Y/N)’s raised thigh.

She let out a soft moan as he grabbed onto it, purposefully raising the dress a bit more with her index finger.

“You even dressed all pretty underneath for me?” He whispered, “I don’t even have to fully look to know how fucking desperate your face must look right now. You just want me to finger you here right in this car, huh?”

She let out a soft moan to affirm, and Yoongi let out a growl in return.

His index finger reached around to hook around the fabric of the red panties, which were now completely soaked with anticipation. The forefront of the finger reached around to lap up how wet she truly was, before moving upwards towards her clit to rub in small circles.

“How long were you sitting there this fucking wet?” he mumbled.

“The entire dinner.” She responded with a moan as she spread her legs a bit, however the car restricted her movement a lot as she pulled her legs back, allowing Yoongi a pretty view that would tease him to have to miss.

“Surprised you didn’t get the whole seat soaked,” He mumbled as he reached around and added his middle finger into the mix, rubbing faster.

“Yoongi,” she moaned out as he did, her head throwing backwards.

He paused for a second, reaching over to the radio and completely shutting it down. Usually they would have few words on a night home and just listen to music and enjoy the ride together. Not now, however. Yoongi wanted to hear everything.

Soon he dove back in, and inserted both fingers swiftly. He was skilled with them to say the least, having lots of experience, especially particularly with what (Y/N) liked. Of course, she preferred him eating her out, but this would do.

“Ah, more,” She moaned.

Yoongi was able to hold quite a fast speed with his other hand while he multitasked on the road and her. She had been so wet, she barely needed any preparation, and he slicked by inside of her with no restriction.

“I can’t give you more until you get home, but at this point I’m not sure you deserve it.” He growled.

“I do!” She responded, “Please, I want you to fuck me right now!”

A beat. Yoongi went faster as her moans grew more desperate, the pleasure sinking into her stomach at how aggressively Yoongi had began to finger her. That pace was a sure sign that he was getting equally as sexually frustrated at her teasing, and taking it out on her.

With a swift turn, he pulled over to the side of the abandoned road, unbuckling himself and pulling her seat back.

“Get in the back right now,” he growled, moving back there as he climbed over the dash.

(Y/N) smiled with satisfaction of getting what she wanted, and head eagerly back, leaving the panties behind.

“You couldn’t fucking wait ten minutes,” He said as he grabbed her wrists, pinning her down horizontally across the back seats, pushing himself over her.

A rush of excitement went down her spine as she laid under Yoongi’s cold gaze.

“Neither could you,” She smirked, when Yoongi suddenly inserted both his fingers again into her, returning at such a pace that cut her snarkiness off.

“What’s the word?” he grumbled, going faster.

“Ah- ah- snow globe!” she moaned out, barely able to let it off her tongue at the sudden return of pleasure from him.

“Good,” he said, “Because I’m going to fuck you over and over until you’re barely able to walk out of this car.”

Yoongi leaned down and connected his lips hungrily underneath the dress. He licked down at her, still fingering her in such a pace that the stimulation of his warm tongue, contrasted to the ignored clit sent her legs shaking. He lapped at it with such a ferocity that her hips began to shake with the stimulation. However, he quickly restricted the movement by pinning her hips with his other (now free) hand.

“I’m going to-“

“No”

He backed off so fast, (Y/N) got a wave of whiplash, gasping as she reached her hips up at Yoongi, begging for more unconsciously. Her clit was a shimmery pretty red at the attention, the arousal only greedy for more.

“God,” he whispered, “You’re so needy,”

“You love me.” She smirked.

“I do,” he responded, “So fucking much. But no sweet talk is going to escape you from this punishment.”

Slowly he reached down and pulled down his pants, struggling against his bulge a bit as he sprung out, the tip equally as red and needy.

“This is hardly a punishment,” (Y/N) smiled, “You clearly need this as much as I do”

“Stop talking or else I’ll make you shut up,”

“Make me.”

He moved upwards, and connected the tip of his dick to her lips. She barely had any time to register what he wanted before it was shoved in between her lips, forcing her mouth open as her eyes widened.

“Choke on it, see what talking back gets you.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes as she took Yoongi in her mouth, runnng her tongue over his tip while she got the opportunity. Any more was shut down however as soon as he started thrusting into her mouth, almost making her gag for a second.

“Try to talk now.” he said, continuing to thrust as spit began to dribble down the corner of (Y/N)’s mouth.

(Y/N) at any moment knew she could just tap her hand against his side and he’d stop, but she was enjoying it. She kept lapping up Yoongi as much as she possibly could, her tongue running along him at whatever chance she got within the reckless thrusts. That was pretty little, however.

Soon, he pulled out, a kiss connecting them both still together as spit ran down (Y/N)’s face for a moment before Yoongi wiped it off.

“I don’t have a condom in here,” Yoongi groaned.

“I don’t care,” (Y/N) said, meeting eyes with Yoongi, “Please,”

After that however, soon Yoongi was aligning himself at her entrance, shoving himself in. A moan released from (Y/N)’s mouth.

“Finally,” she moaned out.

Yoongi scoffed as he thrusted into her, not even giving her time to adjust as he pushed himself in. There was no restriction however, as (Y/N) was so eager that even a lack of lube couldn’t even stop them either.

“Yoongi!” she moaned, “God you feel so good,”

“You do too,” he said before leaning over her ear, “And I’m going to fuck you and watch my cum drip out of you since that’s all you wanted tonight.”

His thrusts got faster at the idea, and (Y/N) only grew more excited. Her hands reached over to his back, nails digging in as her thighs began to shake.

“Please, I want that so bad,” she moaned.

It wasn’t before long she got exactly what she wanted. Yoongi’s thrusts got more reckless as he felt himself on edge.

“Are you sure?” he asked one last time, “I’m about to come,”

“Yes!” She moaned, her legs shaking again.

Yoongi finally snapped as he coated the inside of (Y/N), riding it out with slow rhythmic thrusts. As soon as he pulled out, (Y/N) went through her own orgasm. Her voice broke into a high pitch as she came, squirting onto Yoongi’s stomach. He minded little.

“You’re so pretty,” He whispered as he looked down at her.

Throughout the ordeal, her boobs peaked out the top of her dress, haven fallen out, and she was glistening with sweat, legs spread and black dress stained with the white that was dripping out of her entrance. Her eyes were fucked out, but still meeting Yoongi’s. Her mouth sat agape, trying to catch her breath.

“I needed that,” she smiled, laughing out a bit. “See what I mean the stars were pretty enough to fuck under now?”

“Shut up, because you’re only going to get your real punishment when you get home.” Yoongi said, climbing back into the front seat, zipping up his pants. His own hair stuck to his forehead as he drove back home.

[yoongifis]

💌 switching positions | myg

where the boy that you’ve got wrapped around your finger works his hardest to change his position from a somewhat friends-with-benefit to an official relationship with you. [and hes not the only one who will be switching positions ;)] *if you haven’t read ‘fxck a fxckboy’ yet, i suggest to read it before reading this! or don’t :p do as you wish!*

pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi

; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, handjobs breastplay, usage of sex toys, masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi

; genre: smut (18+), pwp

; wc: 11k (hooooly sheeeeiiit)

a/n: SHES FINALLY HERE AAAAHH!! a little continuation of fuckboy yoongi~ hehe! very very sorry it took me so long! i had this in the drafts for a while and was slowly building it throughout the year :v now i've gotten busy bc your girl got into nursing school :') don't get me wrong though, i'll do my best to put out some writings here and there bc i do enjoy doing this :p i also wanna say thank you so much for showing so much love to the original 'fxck a fxckboy' fic!! i didn't expect it to gain that much attention, so i was pretty hyped to see a lot of people enjoying it :D i really hope you guys enjoy this one <3 it's just a little somethin' to fulfill your fuckboy yoongi needs hehehe. fair warning though, this is literally pure smut with no sort of plot (call me a horny mofo lmfaoooo). please ignore my grammatical errors :') i'll fix them at some point when i am notttt lazy ! :p

-

“Yoongi, could you quit it? I’m trying to help you study for your exam!”

The two of you were in one of your university library’s study rooms—which included a whiteboard, a table, and a couple of chairs in a somewhat small amount of space. Out of all the seats that were around the table and the free space this room has to offer, he chose to stand right behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as his head rests on the back of your shoulder as you wrote things on the whiteboard. 

He’s groaning out of boredom. 

“But isn’t this supposed to be a date?”

You snort with a chuckle, “yeah—a study date.”

You went a couple more rounds on the day you first slept with each other (and damn did he go crazy). After that, you told him you didn’t want to fuck him without being “official” because it felt like you were one of his little flings. He respected that, and really held himself back (although he does manage to sneak some kisses from you here and there to get his daily dose of you). He became eager to get you to be his girlfriend, but like you said you wanted to go on dates before you can agree.

And that’s what he did.

He’s been making everything into a date. And so far, he’s taken you on plenty.

Work on assignments together at the school library? (study) Date. 

Drive around town, enjoying the views as you guys talked? (car-ride) Date.

Watch a movie at his place with all the snacks he bought just for you? (movie night) Date. 

How about the two of you make dinner together? (cooking) Date.

It was cute. Something you’d never expected from him. Did he always have this romantic, sweet, and cheesy side to him? You could tell he is trying to keep his promise—take you on a bunch of dates till you agree to be his girlfriend. It may seem a bit too much, but due to his past history you wanted to make him wait and work hard for the ‘boyfriend title’—which he was willing to do. 

“Still a date,” he mumbles.

Yoongi’s squeezing you tightly, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, lips just slightly brushing against your skin. 

“Yoongi, you’ve got to study. They’re not going to let you graduate if you don’t pass this class. This is what you get for always skipping.”

“I just don’t understand that calculus shit. And I can’t study when you’re around.”

“You don’t even like it when I’m not around—but it somehow has to be me that has to help you with studying.”

“Exactly.”

You’re chuckling again at how cute he was. How is it that he was one of the biggest fuckboys at your school and now he’s the biggest simp for you?

“How about we make a deal?”

He hums, “I’m listening.”

“Pass the class and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

His head shoots up. “Whatever I want?” He repeats.

“And I’ll stop your suffering and agree to be your girlfriend.”

It’s like a whole switch went off in his body; he was ready to get going.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, princess,” he’s removing his hold around you, finally taking a seat with a pencil in his hand and a paper in front of him as he looks at you, “if that’s all it’s going to take for me to be your boyfriend, I’ll do it.”

—

Of course, Yoongi left himself with only two days to study for his final exam. It may seem like not enough time, but one thing you learned about him is that he can get really determined to do something especially if he gets some type of reward from you. 

He surprisingly locked himself in his room (according to Hoseok), and was trying to do things on his own. He also did not contact you at all that day—making that day the first time the two of you haven’t hung out or contacted each other since the day you both had that little confession session.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were honestly missing Yoongi despite it only being a day. You’ve gotten so used to having him constantly around you that him not being right next to you felt so off. 

These feelings must’ve been bothering you so much because now you’re at the front door of his apartment with an early dinner of take-out in your hand, waiting for Hoseok to open the door.

“He’s still in his room—the doors unlocked this time which is new. I would have loved to join you guys but I promised to go out with the other boys,” he pauses. “…I did ask Yoongi to join me but he told me to ‘get lost’, so—,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way around you.

You laugh at him.

“No worries, Hoseok. Just go have fun.”

The two of you switch places, with his hand still on the door handle as he’s about to head out.

“I should be saying that to you guys,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yoongi’s right! Get lost already!!” You gently hit the side of his arm as he laughs at your reaction. “Don’t be so weird.”

“Who said it had to be those things? I never said that,” he laughs, but you roll your eyes at him. “Go out, watch a movie, or cook—whatever to get him up and out of his room. That guy isn’t even getting enough rest like usual and barely ate today and yesterday. I’ve literally never seen him like this before—he’s actually studying pretty hard for his exam.”

You’re thinking to yourself, giving him a little nod before he says his final goodbye and shuts the door.

God—Yoongi is really serious about this.

You knock before you enter, only to be faced with Yoongi at his desk, tons of loose paper scattered everywhere and crumpled ones on the floor. He didn’t even notice you until you said his name, his focus from the lecture playing on his laptop switched to you when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Babyy,” he mumbles lowly, a little smile on his mouth.

You’re walking towards him, expecting his eyes to stay on you but they don’t. He’s listening to whatever lecture he had on, scribbling down whatever. It kind of hurt a little. You were too used to having his attention all on you.

“Have you eaten? I brought some take out.”

All he does is shake his head, still focused on his work.

A small pout on your face appears, upset with how he was. You put the bag filled with food onto the floor, next to the drawers of his desk. You take a step closer to him, a hand immediately going to his head to run your fingers through his messy hair. You gently massage his scalp with the pads of your fingers, leaning over to take a look at his work. The only sound that could be heard between you two was the lecture that he had playing.

“Look at you, working so hard,” you broke the silence, “you literally weren’t able to be like this at the library.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just a little “uh-huh”. It was more of a little grunt in agreement. 

It bothered you that he wasn’t talking to you like usual. No hands or eyes all over you—nothing! 

You remove your hands away from him.

“Yoongi, don’t you want to relax with me for a little bit?”

It was obvious you were pouting again—you can just hear it as you spoke.

“Can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He didn’t even bother to glance over at you or complain how you removed your hand from his head. 

“Not even just for a little?”

You hear him exhale, the small action enough to make your heart sink just a little.

“Baby, I’m a little busy. Go lay in my bed and rest for me over there, yeah? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Now that definitely hurt.

He didn’t even take a look at you again! Not one glance.

Without a word, you sat on his bed. Eventually you quietly lay down, taking your phone out to scroll through your apps even though you’d much prefer to be talking or hanging out with Yoongi. 

The silence and sound of his lecture videos and the small scratches of his pencil on his paper echos in the room.

Who would have thought you’d ever see Yoongi ignoring you or not be all over you when you’re in the same room as him?

You immediately got to thinking.

And it hit you.

You toss your phone somewhere on the bed, getting up and making your way to Yoongi. You stood next to him, watching the way he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. He sits there silently, carefully watching his lecture. When you see the right moment, you turn his chair a bit towards you, giving you enough room to squeeze your way through and sit on his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Baby—,” he sighs, “I told you I’m busy right now. I can’t have you on me like this.”

“But babyyy I miss youuu,” you whined, “can’t I get a recharge?”

You notice him completely freeze, slowly taking in what just happened—it was the first time in forever where you didn’t call him by his name.

You mentally smirk to yourself.

Now that’s what you were waiting for. 

He swallows hard, keeping his composure. 

“Yeah?” He hums, “I have the test tomorrow and I’m trying to get a good grade on it. If I let you sit here with me, you gotta promise me that you won’t distract me. This test means a lot to me. Got that, baby?”

You tighten your hold around him, nestling your head against the side of his neck. You nod your head at his words. Not because you agree or that you’d promise to follow his conditions. It was just for the sake of his sanity.

He clears his throat, hitting the play button and grabbing his pencil to continue scribbling down notes or whatever. 

Everything was pissing you off at the moment. 

You missed his hands being all over you and the way he’d fight his way to steal another kiss from you while you’re trying to push him away because he was always greedy for more. You wanted him to be annoyingly head over heels for you while you try to be nonchalant about it. And it’s also crazy to think that it’s only been a couple days and you’re acting like this over Yoongi not showing you the same attention as usual.

You give it some time. Patiently waiting until you thought it was time to get him all riled up—and then maybe he might just pay more attention to you. But being extremely patient at this moment is a pain in the ass, and you knew you didn’t want to drag this on forever. You move around on top of his lap, trying to somewhat grind against him as you pretend to get yourself more comfortable. You move your face closer to his neck, nuzzling your head on the top of his shoulder. You softly exhale, allowing your breath to hit and tickle his neck. 

Nothing. No reaction. 

You place your soft lips against his skin, giving him very light kisses on the same spot.

He slightly tilts his neck away without a word, causing you to huff in annoyance. You immediately bring your lips to his neck again, placing slow and gentle kisses on the side of his neck that instead lead to a spot under his ear and along his jawline.

He groans, clearly enjoying your actions but conflicted with the need to resist the temptation of you.

“Baby,” is all he says, voice sharp and stern. 

You pull away, sitting up straight to face him. 

“Enough.”

You could tell on his face that he was being serious.

Well..trying to. And it was cute—which is why he wasn’t as successful with intimidating you.

You roll your eyes at him, making your way towards him to pepper his jawline with kisses.

“But I miss youu,” you mumbled against his skin, making your way to his ear.

“…and I want you so bad, babyyy.”

You hear him mumble a “fuckin’ hell” under his breath and his hands creep underneath your thighs. He’s picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck tightly. In no time, you feel your back hit against the bed. You watch him adjust himself so that he’s eye level with you as he hovers above you. Just by the look of his dark eyes, you knew you were in for it. 

“Yoongi—,” you squeaked.

“Hm?” He hums, voice rough. 

The atmosphere around him felt different this time. It was just hard to point out what it was. Nevertheless, you brushed it off. As desperate this may sound, you were finally getting what you wanted and you’re not going to let anything get in the way. All you wanted right now was him because—fuck—you miss him. 

“Please—,” you mumble.

It felt embarrassing to be underneath him like this with his hungry eyes beaming at you—and that’s all he’s been doing for the past how many minutes that felt like an eternity. You watch his eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips, clearly tempted to just devour you then and there but he doesn’t. He shifts in his position, bringing his right thigh in between your legs and pressed against your crotch, giving you the opportunity to grind against him—cuz fuck, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be touched—you needed him to do something to help you get some relief but he didn't do anything.

He watches you carefully. The way your eyes flutter shut and open slowly as you attempt to grind against his thigh, begging for him to do something.  God, you were just so fucking tempting. But he couldn’t.

Instead, he brings his head to the side of your neck, peppering a messy line of light kiss along it. He leads the trail up towards the side of your jaw, almost mimicking exactly what you were doing earlier. Once he makes it to the spot underneath the lobe of your ear he pulls away.

“What do you want, princess?” He softly speaks into your ear. 

The sound of his voice and the way his breath hits your skin already sends shivers down your spine. It was really just the effect he had on you, and he never failed to make you feel this way. Your mind was already drunk off him, words also didn’t seem to want to come out of your mouth.

He removes his thigh away from you and sits up, getting another good look at you before he lowers himself more till he becomes face-to-face with your abdomen as he lays in between your legs. He lifts up the oversized hoodie you wore, but only exposing your tummy. From there, he started to place slow and soft kisses from below your chest and leading down to underneath your belly button. These actions were making you go crazy—maybe it has been too long since you’ve been touched this way by Yoongi.

He stops giving your tummy kisses when he reaches the spot under your belly button, making you whine out a little “please”.

“Mmm?” He hums, looks up at you as he sits back up to admire you. “What baby? You want me to go further, don’t you?”

You nod at him, your eyes telling him that you need more.

He gives you a lopsided smile before bringing his head to the side of yours, his lips slightly grazing the shape of your ear.

“I don’t fuck just anyone anymore, remember? My girlfriend is the only person I ever want to fuck.” 

What a damn smart ass.

He’s already pulling away chuckling before you could wrap yourself around him to keep him on top of you.

“Whaat?!” You whined, “—but Yoongi!”

He’s laying in between your legs, arms wrapped around your hips as he nuzzles the side of his head on your tummy. You watch him get comfortable and his breathing slows. 

“Yoongi,” you gently pat his head in annoyance.

Silence.

“Yoongi, wake up,” you huff.

Nothing.

The exhaustion finally caught up to him and made this man fall asleep on you just like that.

You grumble to yourself in annoyance—a perfectly good plan gone to waste. You do your best to shove him off you (of course it took a couple tries). Once you finally got him off you, you took your needy ass home.

That was just it.

Hoseok could deal with this man when he gets home!

—

You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re in this position right now. The Yoongi you were seeing now was a complete 180 from the one you were dealing with yesterday.

“What’s with the little outfit you have underneath your hoodie, princess? Were you already expecting me to come over?”

His smile is cheeky, the thought of you waiting for him to come home in that outfit got him smiling like crazy. 

Fuck—it  made him way too happy.

You hum, carefully picking out your words.

“I was going to film something.”

“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and his imaginary tail starts to wag. “as a congratulatory gift, huh?” 

“That… or a ‘sorry-you-failed-you’ll-get-it-next-time’ gift,” you chuckle.

He scoffs at your words.

“You thought I wouldn’t pass?”

“I mean there was a possibility, wasn’t there, Yoongi?”

He chuckles, bringing his eyes from you down to your thighs.

“You don’t get it, baby,” he hums, fingers lightly grazing down your thigh, “you told me you’d be all mine if I passed this exam.” He pauses, removing his fingers from your thigh and brings his face closer to your skin, pressing chaste kisses that lead up to your inner thigh. He gently bites down, earning a little yelp from you.

Yoongi sits up to face you eye-to-eye again, admiring the annoyed look on your cute face yet there was a slight shift in his demeanor.

“There’s no way I’d ever want to lose to a prize like that, baby. And even if I weren’t able to pass that exam, you know damn well that I’ll make sure to make you want to be mine.”

He stares at you, mentally undressing you causing him to lick his lips. The way he looked at you made you feel small, despite his eyes flickering from your eyes, down to your lips, and to your bare legs. It suddenly felt embarrassing to be wearing such an outfit under a hoodie while being in front of Yoongi. 

As if he could sense your feelings, he gets off the bed and grabs your swivel chair from your desk, placing it right in front of the end of the bed. He takes a seat, leaning back with his legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.

“Show me what you were about to film.”

“Yoongi—,” you mess with the bottom of your hoodie, pulling it down to cover yourself some more, “—you know I can’t —.”

“Show. Me.” He interrupts, words sharp. His voice was low and demanding—and you hate to admit it but it was definitely turning you on.

You swallowed hard, awkwardly clearing your throat before answering him. 

“I’m—uh—,” you croaked.

“What is it?” 

“My—um…,” you mumbled “…it’s in the drawer on your right.”

He raises an eyebrow, turning to his side to pull open the drawer of your dresser. He rummages through it without looking until he feels a particular item he can already recognize. The boy brings it out, holding it in front of him with a snicker.

“You were going to use this too?” He’s waving it around, a big smile on his face.

Your grow even more embarrassed, face flushed. You look down, avoiding his gaze as you sheepishly nod your head.

“What a treat,” he hums, “but don’t you need to prepare yourself before using your little toy?”

You lift your head up only to find him still watching you with a teasing smile. 

“Let me see how you get yourself all nice and wet, princess—then I’ll hand this over to you.”

As you’re sitting on top of your legs in a kneeling position, you bring your thighs a little closer to each other—and he immediately notices it.

He’s tipping his head upwards, giving you a signal to “go on”. 

You could just not listen to him but in all honesty, you’ve been waiting so long to become intimate with him again. And knowing him—especially from what happened the other day—he’d definitely tease the shit out of you and not give you what you want if you don’t follow his orders.

You try to brush off the nerves you were feeling, moving your legs from underneath. Your legs were spread apart, knees bent and feet on top of the bed, giving him a good view of your skimpy, sheer underwear you chose to wear today. He could already tell you were wet—just from a quick glance at your panties he’s already spotted a little wet patch.

With just your index and middle finger, you take the two digits and place them over your panties and on top of your clit, rubbing it in small and slow circles. You were already closing your eyes, throwing your head back while moaning softly. Maybe it was the effect of his presence or just him overall but you felt even more turned on than when you do this by yourself.

“Panties to the side, princess.”

You do as he says, feeling the surge embarrassment run through you, causing your face to grow hot and red. You continue to slowly rub your wet clit, with your head turned to the side as you whimper and moan all while avoiding him.

“Don’t avoid your pussy, baby. It needs some attention too,” he hums, “put a finger in.”

You look at him, biting down on your lip as you remove your fingers from your clit.

You hesitate a bit before slowly inserting your middle finger into your heat, pumping it in and out as you turn your head away from him to avoid his gaze. You bit down on your lip with enough pressure to leave indents, suppressing your moans from Yoongi.

“So good baby, you’re such a good girl.” He coos.

“Your pussy is just sucking your finger right in, princess,” he chucked, “making a whole mess just from one finger.”

You ignored his comments, torn between concentrating imagining that your fingers were his own or his cock that were filling up your pussy, or the fact that you wanted to hide yourself and your moans from the man in front of you. God, it’s embarrassing—to be exposed and to be playing with your most private part right in front of a man you were head over heels for. Yoongi, however, wasn’t having it. He thought this whole thing was the biggest turn on he’s ever had. You were the sexiest girl on earth to him, especially with the nice treat of you playing with yourself. 

“Nnnggh—ahh~!” You yelped, quickly looking down to see the man in between your legs, eyes dark as he lapped up your overflowing essence. Your movements stutter, and he takes that as an opportunity to move your hand away and replace it with his, making you a bit noisier than before. He pulls his face away, thumb playing with your clit as he keeps eye contact with you.

“There we go, baby. Don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he smirks. It was easy for him to read you—he already knew that you would try to avoid his gaze. He’s tossing your pink dildo on the bed, removing his hand from your clit. He places each hand on the back of your thigh of each leg, pressing your legs against the sides of your chest and nearly folding you in half. This position was one of his favorites—he was always able to see everything while he ate you out.

He keeps a tight hold on your legs, making sure they stay in place. He switches from using a flat tongue while moving his head side to side to using just the tip of his tongue to stimulate your sensitive and erect clit before sucking it—completely indulging in all your juices that were flowing out of you. 

“W-wait!—please!” you squealed.

He has you squirming, lifting your hips in an attempt to get it away or closer to his face. The noises he made were obscene— loud slurps, low hums. He ran his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up the essence you produced. He uses that thick piece of muscle to probe at your hole, plunging it in and out of you. He buried his face into your pussy, his tongue moving around your hole as his nose brushes against your bead, allowing him to inhale the sweetest scent of you.

He loved watching the look you had on your face—cheeks brushed red, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. It was a sexy look—and being in this position where he had a good view of your lower half and your face could almost make him cum. He removes his hold from one leg, bringing that free hand to easily slide two fingers in you as he abuses your clit with his mouth, causing you to let out a strained gasp.

“Y-yoon…gi~!” You cried.

He hums against your clit before removing himself.

“Fuck, princess—,” he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, “—you taste so damn good.”

“Please—! Need you!”

He’s chuckling at you—thought that you looked so damn adorable that he was contemplating to tease the shit out of you or completely fuck your brains out.

“Yeah? You need my cock, huh, baby?” With his two fingers in your pussy, he uses his thumb to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him. He becomes more aggressive with his thrusting of his fingers.

“Hhhnnghh—!” You squeak, feeling yourself about to reach your high. You’re gripping onto the sheets, arching your back. Right there—it was right there. You could feel the way he was trying to get you to release. But once you almost felt that wave of pleasure, it was quickly taken away from you. Your legs shake and you clench around nothing.

“You owe me a show, princess,” the man hums, bringing the wet digits to his mouth. He spreads his two fingers apart, making a v-shape as he takes his tongue and licks around his fingers—the slick, sticky essence coating them— all while making sure to maintain eye contact with you.

“Yooonggii—,” you whined with a pout, bringing your legs together to rub your thighs against each other to feel something. “Was almost there, Yoongi~,” you mumble with a pout, innocent eyes glistening at him. 

He’s standing up as you spoke, chuckling at how desperate you looked. 

“God, you’re fucking cute.”

It was clear to him how badly you wanted him to continue. But he had to hold himself back because he just had to play around with you. The man reaches over the bed to grab the sex toy he tossed earlier, holding up to show it to you.

“I got you all ready for this, baby. Show me how you use it.”

You look at him with a flushed face, lips pouting at the fact he wasn’t going to continue what he was doing earlier. It was annoying—stopping you from cumming just because he wants to see you ride your dildo. You were hoping the pleading look on your face would change his mind—make him want to continue, but he doesn’t budge. You slightly roll your eyes at him, reposition yourself to sit up in front of him on your knees again. 

He smirks, satisfied with how well you’re listening to him even though he can see right through you. Yoongi gently tosses the dildo in front of you before taking a seat. You took the toy into your hands, holding it as if it was a foreign object to you. 

“Go on, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on you. He looked relaxed; slightly slouched against the chair with his legs manspreading. 

You huff, mustering up the courage and to mentally preparing yourself to do such a lewd act in front of him (even though the two of you have already slept with each other and seen one another naked and whatnot…). You lift yourself up, standing on your knees with them slightly spread apart. You hold the bottom of your hoodie underneath your chin, which exposes just your tummy, while you try to position the toy underneath you. You bring your panties to the side to expose yourself, brushing just the tip against your slit which makes you clench around nothing. You  slowly sink down once you feel yourself wrap around the tip. 

“Haaa~,” you gasp, tilting your head back as you sink down even further. You’re a whimpering, mumbling mess when you have it completely in you—and fuck has it been a long time since you’ve actually used it or been fucked by Yoongi. You allow yourself to get yourself adjusted.

He focuses on how your face scrunches up and how your mouth hangs open, since you’ve let go of the bottom part of your hoodie and is now covering where all the action was. 

You missed this feeling of being full that it was making you go crazy. You wanted to stay like this, but for some reason you felt like wanting to move. You lift your hips up in an attempt to have the toy just barely in you, but it doesn’t slide out of you so you sit down again.

“Your pussy isn’t letting it go, princess. You’re gripping it so tightly,” he chuckles, leaning forward so that he’s closer to you and the bed. “I’ll hold it for you, baby.”

You nod, lifting your legs up as you try to relax yourself, letting your dildo slide out and onto the bed. You stood there on your knees, waiting for him to do something.

He brings his hand to the bottom of your hoodie.

“Hold this up with your mouth for me, baby. Make sure this part is the part you’re holding with your mouth”

You look at him a bit weird, not fully understanding his specific request but you do it anyway. You bring the fabric up to your mouth, now completely revealing your lingerie to him.

Ah…What a smartass.

He notices you roll your eyes at him, making him chuckle. He takes the sex toy and holds it with the base in his palm.

“Alright, baby. Go at it.” He’s positioned the dildo underneath you, waiting for you to get on it again. 

The two of you make eye contact as you slowly sink down again. You feel the tip of the toy brush against your wet folds, causing you to bite down on the fabric a little harder than before. 

Why are you more excited? Is it because of Yoongi? 

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

As you slowly slide yourself down on the dildo, you’re  immediately throwing your head back again, breaking eye contact but he continues to watch you. You feel yourself reach the end of it, only for you to immediately raise your hips and again to slowly start moving up and down. You find a rhythm as you bounce on the toy, your hands finding their way to massage your breasts, massaging them with the lingerie still on as your moans are slightly muffled from the fabric in your mouth. 

“Look at you playing with yourself. You look so sexy, princess. You were going to film something like this for me, right baby?” He hums, reaching over in his pocket to take out his phone. He opens up the camera app, tilting his phone upwards to get the whole view of you and starts to record you. “I'll help you and be your cameraman—look at the camera, princess.”

At first he gets a shot of all of you—you glancing down at him and the camera with a flushed face before quickly throwing your head back, hands grabbing at your own breast over the sheer fabric covering them, your hips moving on its own as you bounced up and down. He then pans the camera to your pussy swallowing up your dildo.

“Yeah, keep moving like that, baby. You’re making such a creamy mess on your dildo like a good girl. You’re gripping so hard—fuck, baby,” he groans lowly.

He watches the way all your overflowing juices were pooling at the base of the dildo and makes sure to get a good shot of it before tossing it to the side.

“Take the hoodie off, baby.”

You do as he says, tossing the fabric somewhere on the floor. He takes in the way you looked in the skimpy piece of clothing you wore underneath. 

God, you blew him away. 

You were just so. damn. beautiful. 

The white made you look heavenly—angelic, actually. And the lacey, sheer fabric that covered you wasn’t necessary at this point, but damn did it do a good job at catching his eye. The set you had on also had some frills on it, along with a little bow in the middle of your waistband and of your bra. It all suited you—it was perfectly made for you.

He literally just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

With his free hand, he caresses the curve of your waist to the curve of your hips. He takes a finger and curls it underneath the thin waistband of your panties, following it slowly until he removes it once he reached the middle of your thigh. Yoongi brings his hand up to your chest, using his index finger and thumb to pinch your erect nipple right through the sheer fabric.

“Haaahh~,” you stutter in your movements, letting out an airy moan.

God, he needed you so bad.

He takes the hand that is holding your dildo, flicking his wrist upwards, causing you to fall forwards and pause your movements. He slides your dildo back out, only just to slam it back in and keep it at a steady pace—fucking you with your dildo as you stay still leaning over him. His free hand goes to the side of your ass, helping you stay up.

“Yoongi—!” You whine, your arms making its way to link behind the man’s neck. Your chest is nearly pressed against his face, giving him the opportunity to grab a mouthful of your breast. 

The man encases your hard nipple through the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it enough to get another moan of his name out of your mouth.

“Nnnghh~!” You squeal, pulling him closer to you. 

He then begins to suck on your nipple, toying with the metal bar that’s pierced right through it. With how sheer the fabric is, he’s practically sucking on you rather than the fabric.

Your legs begin to shake as he starts to pick up the pace with your dildo. You could feel that high again, the same feeling you felt earlier when he was eating you out like a goddamn monster.

“Yoongi!” You chant with your mouth slightly hung open, “please! Right there—!”

He’s slamming the dildo inside you, filing you all the way. He’s hitting the spot that made you roll your eyes backwards, your mouth hanging open and spewing nonsense.

He removes himself from your breast, pulling back to take a look at your face, admiring how sexy you are. God—he can’t get over you.

“Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he mumbles lowly, “lose yourself already.”

He uses the hand on your ass to guide you on your dildo while the other hand has it sliding in and out of you. He brings his lips to your collarbone, trailing kisses towards and up your neck.

You breathe heavily, mouth hung wide open as pleasure takes over you. It almost felt like you were being fucked by him, but it was nearly enough. 

“Yoongi—yoongi!” You chant before losing yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to your heart pound crazy while you catch your breath. 

“Good job, baby, you did so good.” He kisses the side of your head, slowly removing the dildo from your pussy, earning a little whine from you.

He lets you sit down on his clothed lap, your wetness probably leaving marks on his sweats. At this point, you could most definitely feel how hard he was right now. You lift your head up and look at him with fucked out eyes. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.

You grind yourself against his hard erection, hoping he gets the hint that you wanted him now instead of having you beg for it.

The corner of his mouth lifts up to a small smirk.

He’s lifting you up as he gets you both off the bed. He’s turning around, gently bringing you down on top of the bed.

“Lie down for me, baby,” his voice low.

He gets a view of you again in your sexy lingerie. Yes, this fucking sexy ass lingerie—god, all the mental photos he has of you will definitely be on repeat in his mind. He didn’t want to remove it. I mean—it would be a waste if he had to. Just the look of you in such a pretty yet skimpy outfit made him go crazy. 

You attempt to be quick with closing your legs again, keeping some modesty. However, he was able to beat you by bringing his hands on either of your legs and pushing them slightly down to keep you wide open for him.

“So pretty,” he mumbles under his breath as he salivates at the look of your body. You grew embarrassed again, having the urge to shut your legs to cover you up but Yoongi was too strong for you.

“Can you tell me what you want next, baby?”

You already knew he was going to tease you—actually he probably just wanted to hear those words come right out of your mouth. It would be music to his ears.

“Yoongi, please…,” you mumble, “don’t you want to fuck me?” You give him the most innocent doe eyes that you could, hoping he could lose himself already.

He chuckles.

“Of course, princess,” he brings himself closer to you, taking his painful erection and grinds himself against your slick, teasing your little hole. “You want me to fuck you like this? With my clothes on? It’s making such a mess on my pants, baby.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head no. You wanted more, and you know that he knows that already.

“Thought so,” he hums. “Be specific, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”

You hesitate a bit, but his teasing was enough to make you more upfront with what you wanted.

“Take your clothes off too, Yoongi.”

“Mmm…were you feeling alone?”

“Extremely, Yoongi”

He chuckles as he removes every piece of his clothing from his body, tossing it wherever in the room.

“Can’t let my baby feel that way,” he hums.

Your eyes go from his to below his waist, watching him slowly remove his boxers and revealing his cock. It was thick and long, an angry red at the tip with a bit of precum oozing out. 

Your hand gravitates towards it, holding it by the base and squeezing it a little. You completely forgot how big and girthy he was. As you slide your hand up and down his cock, you got him lowly groaning while you thought to yourself about whether or not this thing could fit in you again. But fuck—you wanted him so bad. 

“…please Yoongi,” you remove your hand from his cock, looking up at him, “fuck me already.”

He’s smiling, bringing his cock closer to your core. He takes his thumb to push his cock on top of your slit, and keeps it there. He slides himself back and forth, coating himself with your slick, teasing you as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit.

You let out a little whine from his touch. 

“Want your cock inside me, Yoongi,” you mumble.

He’s leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, his facing hovering yours.

“It’s all yours, baby.”

He’s leans in again to steal a passionate kiss from you, while he slowly pushes his cock inside your soaked hole. You slightly pull away from him, your mouth hanging open, spewing out soft moans as he fills you up. 

He gives you the chance to get used to him being inside you. And fuck, did he miss your fucking pussy. 

He pulls his hips back, letting you miss the feeling of him filling you up before he slams himself right back into you again.

“Haaah~! Yoongi!” You say breathlessly. Your hands crawl to hold the sides of his face, as he continues to leave a trail of scattered kisses from the side of your neck and down to your chest. He’s pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing you before he latches on to your pierced nipple. 

He starts to pick up the pace as he thrusts into you; finally leaving your breasts alone with hickies that mark you as his. He stands straight to look down at you, watching you writhing underneath him. He pulls the other cup to your bra to expose the other perky and pierced breast. His eyes mesmerized by the face you were making as you were getting fucked by him, your tight pussy sucking him right up, and your tits bouncing everywhere—god it felt like they made him even harder.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, “you’re all mine, huh?”

You let out little more whimpers and moans, unable to make out any sentences. He chuckles, wanting to see you lose more of yourself. He lifts your leg and puts it over your shoulder, wanting to penetrate you even deeper. He takes his right thumb and gives it a quick lick with his tongue before placing it right on your clit, rubbing it in circles.

“Nnnggh—ah! Yoongi!” You yelp.

“My pretty girl. You take me in so well, huh?”

He watches you let out louder moan, realizing that his cock grazed your most sensitive spot.

He’s snapping his hips hard against you. He lifts his knee up to place it on the bed, angling himself so that he could continuously hit that spot that had you rolling your eyes back. He presses down on your clit harder, torturing it with quick and small tracings of a circle.

You’re mumbling nonsense, spewing out whatever came out of your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, making him let out another groan.

He looks down at the area where you two were connected, admiring the creamy mess you were making on his dick. His eyes wander upwards to your heavenly body. Then up to your cute face, making all kinds of sounds as he pounded you—God, he’s actually going insane, he was grunting with every thrust. 

“W-wait! Haahnngh~! Yoongi!” You bring a hand to his abdomen, weakly trying to push him away as he’s drilling himself inside of you. 

“Please!” You whined, “s-something’s coming out!” 

A soft smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he watches yours—mouth hung open, nonsense whining. You were writhing underneath him, trying to get away from him but he wouldn’t let you. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before putting more strength into his thrusts.

“Yoongi!” You yelped, letting out helpless whines as you can feel yourself about to reach your high. 

Your hands wrap around his back, your sharp nails scratching him enough to show red lines and possibly make him bleed. 

He gives a final thrust, causing you to squirt all over his pelvis area and onto the bed when he removes himself from your hole.

“Fuck…,” he grumbles under his breath.

He watches your chest move up and down, eyes closed as you’re still trying to recover from what just happened.

“You made a fucking mess, baby. You squirted all over me.”

Your eyes shot open, propping yourself up with your elbows to look down at what you did.

“I just…?” You lay yourself down again, covering your eyes in humiliation. It’s the first time you’ve done that before. “Yoongi—this is so embarrassing,” you whined.

“Embarrassing?” He’s leaning forward to kiss the back of your hands before gently removing them away from your face, eyes now on him. “That was sexy as fuck, baby.”

He’s lifting you to sit you up before he carries you again. He sits first on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap while facing forward. Right in front of you, you had a view of the two of your naked, sweaty bodies. Hickies scatter across your chest, your legs spread apart and glistening from you making the biggest mess. You feel your cheeks grow red from looking at yourself.

He helps remove your sheer, lace bra off. His hands roam around until they glide up and down the sides of your waist.

“Look how sexy you are, baby. So, so fucking sexy.”

He’s tapping on the side of your ass, signaling for you to lift your bottom just a bit, which you did, as he helps you remove your panties. He holds his cock up, and helps you guide your hips to it. You slowly slide down on his cock, fully taking him whole, causing you to let out a shaky moan.

“Bring your feet up, baby.”

You do it, placing one foot on either side of him and near the edge of the bed. He has his chest against your back, an arm holding your waist to keep you steady while his other hand is pushed against the bed behind him to hold him up.

“Bounce for me, princess. And keep your eyes on the mirror. Need you to see what I see when I fuck you.”

You bite down on your lip, looking at him through the mirror and he tips his head again telling you to “go on”. You slowly lift your hips up, feeling somewhat empty without his cock in you, until you drop yourself down on him. The fullness had you moaning out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“I told you to watch yourself, didn’t I?”

You keep a steady pace on his cock, your eyes closed and mouth hanging open again.

“…too embarrassing—,” you moan.

He scoffs, annoyed with your response. He wanted you to see how you looked—how your body reacts when you have his cock stuffed inside of you. He wasn’t going to let that answer slide.

The man hooks his arms under the back of your knees, carrying you while he keeps himself in you. Your eyes flash open when you feel yourself in the air.

“W-wait! Yoongi!” Your hands go to your face to cover your eyes. You lay your back more against him to keep yourself from falling forward.

He’s moving you on his cock with no difficulties. He has you bouncing up and down, while you’re still trying to process what’s going on.

“Look at how much of a slut you fucking look like, princess,” his voice low and gravely. 

The contrast of his words turn you on. Peaking through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of your glistening, naked body. 

“Remove them, now.”

You swallow hard, finally facing yourself. Your eyes wander, watching the way your pussy took in your boyfriend’s cock, how you were making such a damn mess on it, the way your perky breasts bounced around while he thrusted upwards into your pussy. It was all so vulgar—a dirty scene that came out of a porno.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. This is the view that I get—andI’m the only one who gets to have this view.”

Despite feeling slightly embarrassed about watching yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more turned on. Who knew you could make such a dirty yet sexy expression?

You’re furrowing your eyebrows, mouth hung open as you whimper and moan. Your hand travels down to your lower abdomen, holding it there to feel a slight bulge whenever Yoongi pushes himself in you. It was actually insane to you to be able to feel and see this.

“Go lower, baby. Play with yourself.”

Your hand slowly inches lower, grazing your skin. You take a finger and draw small, slow circles on your clit. You watch yourself through the mirror, your eyes flickering to watch your scrunched up face to how Yoongi was pounding your pussy while you played with your swollen, sensitive bead.

“Fuck—that’s it baby. You listen so well,” he grunts. 

He adjusts his hold under you, making it more comfortable for him to slide you in and out of him while he fucks you harder underneath. He was basically doing bicep curls at this point—his muscles were nearly on fire but he couldn’t care any less.

“More pressure baby.”

You follow his commands, and you have yourself throwing your head back again as you lose yourself. Your sensitive clit makes your hips shake, causing you to squeeze tightly around him. You hear Yoongi slightly growl in your ear, going crazy because of you. 

“You’re milking my cock so hard—you want my cum that bad, huh?” His voice was gruff.

He holds you a bit lower, stopping his little bicep curls and instead continues to fuck you from underneath at a faster pace and with more forceful thrusts.

“Ngggh—ahh~!” You yelp from the change in speed.

“Don’t fucking remove your fingers. Keep playing with yourself.”

You were nearly seeing stars again. You couldn’t think straight. But you could feel that same feeling you felt earlier, and you knew you just couldn’t hold that knot in your stomach anymore.

“F—fuck! Yoongi! Ah—!” You cried, “cumming!”

“Fucking cum for me, baby. Lose yourself already.” 

He’s thrusting you with all the power he can, while his face was stuck on watching your reaction on your airbrushed slightly red face. 

Soon, he's pulling out of your slippery, wet hole. Your mouth makes an “o” shape, before crying out Yoongi’s name as you orgasm again.  Your body fluids shot out of you and coating the mirror—and you squirt again, just as he was wanting to get you to do. 

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath. You could feel your hips still twitching from being so sensitive. This was something you’ve never experienced before. 

He’s kissing the side of your head, mumbling sweet words. He gently lays you back down on the bed on your back, allowing you some time to relax for a bit. You can feel the mix of his and your fluids seeping out of your hole, dripping down to your other puckered hole.

Your eyes flutter open and they couldn’t help but take a quick scan at the naked man’s body that stood in front of you. As you look lower, you can’t help but notice that his cock was still painfully hard, standing up straight with a slight curve to it.

He towers over you, watching every small movement you make. Although he was being sweet to give you some time to rest, by the look he was making you could tell he was hungrily waiting for the next round. He licks his lips as a lazy smile forms on his face as your eyes finally meet.

“Yoongi…,” you mumble. Your hand makes its way to his length, wrapping your fingers around it. Your essence still coats him, making it slippery enough for you to slowly stroke his cock. You look up at him with half-lided eyes.

He lowly groans in pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before bringing it back to look at you.

“Mmm…yes, baby?” 

“All that fucking and you’re still so hard?”

He’s laughing, an odd thing to do when someone is giving you a handjob. 

“I can’t get enough of you, baby.”

“Yeah?” You hum, slowing your movements. 

He takes his hand and wraps it around yours, helping you pump his cock before he starts to guide it to your slit. The two of you drag the tip against your wet folds.

“Looks like it’s the same for you too, baby. You’re fucking wet again.” He’s pushing himself into you again, the two of you letting go of his cock. He slowly sinks in, getting a little whimper out of you.

“All that fucking and you’re still clenching onto me so tightly, baby. You really love my cock inside you, huh?”

He’s pulling out, still keeping the tip in, before he thrusts back into you. 

“Mmmph~! F-fuck…! Yesss, Yoongi.”

He’s chuckling again, keeping his pace steady.

“Yeah?” He hums, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your thigh to keep it steady. Taking his free hand, he uses it to press firmly against your lower abdomen. You’re mumbling nonsense again from this new feeling of pleasure.

“God—I fucking love you,” he grunts, bringing your other leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning against you, practically folding your body in half just to reach you even deeper. This position had you rolling your eyes back, reaching for any body part of him to dig your fingernails into his skin. Yoongi would switch it up at times—from giving you fast yet shorter strokes to taking his sweet time as he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to slowly bring himself back in. However, he made it his goal to make sure every thrust was sharp enough to bruise your cervix. 

Your mouth hangs open, nothing but airy moans escaping from it with every thrust he makes. He brings his face to yours, using this opportunity to probe his tongue into your mouth. His tongue dances along with yours before he captures it in his mouth. He’s sucking on it, eliciting more moans from you but he removes himself to swallow them. You pull away to catch your breath, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.

“Gonna…cum—,” you mumble under your breath. 

Yoongi huffs, giving you small pecks on the sides of your mouth. He really didn’t need you to let him know. He could already tell by the way your insides were clamping onto him. 

He’s quickly removing himself from you, denying your orgasm. The man watches your hips move in desperation, your hole spasming around nothing as he helps you rest your legs on the bed.

“Yoongiii—hnngh…,” you cried, voice whiney. “So mean,” you quietly mumble.

He smirks at your words.

Without any word, he rolls you onto your stomach. The man lifts your hips upwards to have your ass sticking up and spreads your legs apart. He pushes the upper portion of your body against the mattress, your arms cushion your head as you lay there. With his large hand, he presses on the small of your back, helping you with a deeper arch. 

“Beg for my cock, baby.”

You turn your head around to look back at him, shaking your head in disagreement while he has you in this position.

His left eyebrow lifts up and a dark chuckle escapes his lips.

“You were behaving so well earlier, princess.” He hums, taking his dick and running it through your wet folds to collect your arousal. “Now you want to be a brat?”

“Don’t want to beg anymore,” you mumble.

He scoffs. “So should I end it here?”

“Go ahead. I’ll find someone else who could do a better job then. They would let me cum.”

He smacks the sides of your ass, getting a yelp out of you.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Maybe I can call up this one guy—.”

He grasps the sides of your ass, spreading them apart to reveal your needy pink, dripping hole. He slowly sinks into you, causing you to let out a shaky moan. Yoongi keeps still inside of you, making sure you’re taking in all of him.

“You only need me, baby—your fucking boyfriend. I’m the only one who gets to see you this way and get you to cum.”

He can’t help but absolutely hate the sound and the thought of you with another man. It drove him crazy just hearing you mention “some other guy”.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, little moans coming out of you as being stuffed with his dick made you go dumb in the head.

“—Yoongi—ngggh—! Move!”

He lifts your hips higher, pressing the small of your back to get you to arch your back more. He leans over you, his pelvis pressed against your ass, making you feel his dick even further in you, causing you to let out a swear. He leaves gentle kisses on the back of your naked shoulder.

“Say please,” he mumbles into your skin.

“F—fuck, Yoongi!” You grumble, annoyed at his words.

He waits patiently, letting his silence and your soft whimpers fill the air. The man couldn’t care less if he had to stay in the position for hours—he loved the feeling of your soft, warm, and wet pussy pulsating around him. 

And with that, you knew you couldn’t win.

 “—Please—!” You cry out. 

“Remind me who I am again.”

“—boyfriend!” You quickly spat out, desperate for him to move already.

“You gonna be a good girl for me again?”

You’re quick to nod your head ‘yes’.

He grins at your response, happy with how easy he can get you to be submissive when you’re full of his cock.

“Now was that so hard to do, princess?”

He’s pulling out, just the tip barely in you.

“…annoying,” you mumble under your breath.

He slams himself into you again, causing you to moan out his name.

“Yeah? I’m annoying too, huh? A big mean, annoying boyfriend, right?”  His voice was low and gravelly.

He starts to find a rhythm and pace as he starts to pound your pussy. Snapping his hips to make sure his skin hits against yours as loud and as hard as he can, the noises filling the room and the skin of your ass slowly turning a shade of red.

He’s searching for your dildo that was thrown somewhere nearby. Once he finds it, he’s immediately taking it. He leans over you as he fucks you, placing the dildo in front of you. Yoongi halts his movements, removing himself from you.

“Yoongi~,” you whine, swaying your ass side to side. You push your hips back, trying to find him so you could reconnect again.

God, this view—this scenario. It’s all he could easily get used to.

“C’mon, baby you can’t be doing that to me,” he slightly groans, “you’re driving me crazy.”

“Please,” you mumble, bringing your hands behind you. You place one hand on the sides of your ass, gently spreading it apart so that Yoongi has a better view of your weeping hole. You turn your head to look back at him as you hold yourself in this position, swaying your ass side to side. “Please go crazy and fuck me already, Yoongi.”

What a fucking invite.

“Fuck,” he hissed, running his hand through his wet hair. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, making him painfully harder. His mind went damn blank just from hearing you say that while being in such a pornographic position. 

You seriously knew how to turn him on. 

How fucking dangerous.

He’s bringing himself closer to you, rubbing his erect cock in between your ass, allowing it to slide back and forth. It gets you impatient, causing you to wiggle your ass again as he continues with his movements.

“Be a good girl and keep that dildo in your mouth while I fuck you, alright princess?” He gives the side of your ass another gentle slap as a form of encouragement.

Yoongi patiently waits for you to start bobbing your head, along with the vulgar slurping noises you obnoxiously made.

Did you really enjoy having that dildo inside your mouth when he was right behind you?

He mentally scoffs out of jealousy, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way at all. 

You became louder with your muffled moans once Yoongi was inside of you again, making those dumb thoughts disappear. The view of you being filled up both way clearly made him way too hard—he was instantly fucking you at a brutal pace, almost as if he hasn’t touched you in ages.

He’s rougher this time; using one hand to gather your hair and make a makeshift ponytail just to wrap it around his hand to help you guide your head along your dildo while the other free hand is gripping the side of your ass as he fucked you from behind.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. Sucking on your dildo while I fuck you senseless, just like a pretty little slut you are.” 

His thrusts had more force to them, your skin turning redder than before. He wanted to demolish you, make you melt underneath him. All you could do was hum into your dildo in pleasure, holding onto the base for dear life. You could feel tears threatening to spill out of your eyes whenever your dildo would reach deeper in your throat, causing you to gag on it. Of course, Yoongi thought all of this was sexy. God, it was fucking sexy.

He found that one spot again that has your mind spinning. The man angles himself so that he kept hitting that spot over and over again.

You immediately pull away from your dildo, drool escaping from the sides of your mouth.

“Y-yoongi—!” You yelped, your hands let go of the dildo after you toss it to the side, now gripping onto the sheets.

He releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to the front of your neck to pull you up and your back arched against him, changing the position again. The other hand around your waist to keep you steady.

Yoongi brings the side of his head to yours.

“Not gonna let you get away from me,” his gravely voice whispers against your ear—and god did that send tingles down your spine.

The pressure of his hand around your neck was pleasurable enough to keep you lightheaded. However that hand goes to toy with your breasts, fiddling with piercing and pinching your nipple before taking a big handful of your breast to massage it as he fucked you.

He finally brings his hand to your front, pressing his two fingers against your swollen and sensitive bead. You feel your hips twitch, unable to control your body movements. All you could feel in this moment was how hard the two of your heartbeats were and pure ecstasy. This man knew how to fuck. Scratch that—he knew how to fuck you. He’s already memorized what had you throwing your head back, what’s got you clenching so damn tightly around him, or what has you babbling nonsense just from fucking you a couple times.

“Yoon—gi! Haaah~!” You turn your head to the side and towards him. He brings his face to yours, attacking your lips again before you pull away a moaning mess.

“Fuck—you take me in so goddamn good, baby,” he grunts, “you wanna cum, huh, baby?”

You’re nodding your head, feeling yourself nearly on the brink of losing yourself again. He’s just about bruised your cervix enough and made your damn clit so swollen and sensitive to touch. You knew you were already making a mess around his dick.

He moves his hand away from your breast and around your waist again, embracing you and holding you tightly for what’s yet to come. Your arms hold onto his arm with one of your hands interlocking with his, a gesture that had him feeling like his heart grew 10x in size. He loves you. He’s way too in love with you—head over heels at this point.

If it was even possible, he’s fucking you even harder. Grunting into your ear, telling you how good you are, how damn pretty you are—how fucking perfect you are, practically made just for him. It was all enough for you to finally lose it, and it was the same for him too. He’s groaning in pleasure when he feels your pussy twitching around him. His warm cum coats the inside of your walls before it oozes out when he removes himself. You fall forward and lay against the bed with your arms weakly holding you up. He watches the mixture of your cum slowly dripping out before he takes his two fingers to push it right back in, only for it to slip out again. He’s quick to get the kleenex tissues to wipe you up, letting you have some time to  catch your breath. You’re rolling over to finally lay down on your side, watching the boy walk through the door.

“I went ahead and got the bath running, baby,” he hums, helping you sit back up. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. 

“You’re insane, Yoongi.”

“Am I?” He lazily smiles.

“I really don’t know what possessed you back there.”

He laughs, “Baby, I haven’t had a taste of you like that in so damn long. I couldn’t help it.” 

Before you knew it, he had you relaxing in the bathtub while he cleaned up the room and got it ready with new sheets and all for the two of you to get some rest. 

—

You could feel Yoongi’s body pressed against your back; his arm sitting across your waist and his head nuzzled against the back of your head. This was all something you had never imagined for yourself—to be lovingly cuddled like this after a long night with your now boyfriend who was an ex “fuckboy” from your school, but it’s definitely something you could get used to. 

You carefully remove yourself from his hold, quickly replacing yourself with one of your pillows. You glance over at him to see his sleeping figure one last time before leaving, and softly scoff with a smile on your face. 

This man is actually very cute when he’s sound asleep.

You quietly pick out some new clothes before tip-toeing away to your bathroom across the hall to get yourself ready for that well-deserved shower.

-

After putting on your clothes, you open the bathroom door, letting all the moisture and heat out. You take the time to gently brush your hair a little more after blow drying it, then applying some hair oil to the ends of it.

“You can’t just leave me like that and expect me to be okay with it.”

Your head quickly turns around to see the mumbling boy, squinting a half-asleep eye at you while using one of their fists to rub one of their other eye. You chuckle at his appearance—his naked torso and his boxers. He stood there in between the door frame, looking like an actual child who just woke up.

“It was just a quick shower, babe.” You turn around to the mirror and continue what you were doing. “I’ll be in the room soon.”

He grunts, making his way towards you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him and lays his head on top of your shoulder.

“Yoongi~,” you whined with a soft chuckle. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s only allowed in bed.”

“Mm, so last night was just it, huh?”

He snorts with a chuckle at your comment, barely having enough energy to react a lot bigger.

“‘One time’ my ass. You’re stuck with me. Not letting you off that easy.”

He turns to your head and presses kisses to your hair. You bring a hand up to gently pat the side of his cheek.

“Congrats on passing the class,” you mumble, “and for finally getting that boyfriend title you’ve been wanting.”

Yoongi turns to look at you with a big smile on his face through the mirror, your hand gently caressing the side of his face. The two of you turn to each other, pressing a small kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“I know a better way you could congratulate me.”

You immediately knew exactly what he was hinting.

“You told me you’d give me whatever I want plus the boyfriend title.”

Fuck—yeah, you did promise that.

You sigh in defeat.

“…Breakfast first?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him that doe-eyed look that made his heart flutter like crazy.

He looks at you with so much adoration, in awe that this beautiful girl was finally his. 

-

if you got this far, thank you for the read <3 :)

i hope you enjoyed!! pls check out my other work!

[jiniretracha]

BTS as your boyfriend

How I imagine the BTS members would act around you as your partners.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

KIM NAMJOON

SFW

Always keeps an eye on you: As we all know, Namjoon is one of the best leaders there is in K-Pop, and, as a good leader would, he keeps an eye on the members to check if they need anything or if they’re okay. You’re not the exception. In fact, he’ll double that attentive feeling. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s controlling you. No. He’s just simply to enamoured with you that he can’t help but worry about his girl and check on her any chance he gets. 

Asks for your opinion on how he should dress: Nam had always been pretty confident when it came to fashion, until you came along. Now, all he cares about is impressing you. He’d never admit that, though. He just wants his girl to coo at him and tell him he’s pretty. 

Asks if you had something to eat: He’ll never forget, and when I mean never forget, to send a text asking you if you’d eaten. When the answer’s yes, his chest would fill with relief and unconsciously smile, sending you praise words. If the answer’s no, he’d get a little mad, and maybe scold you a little bit, sending you those texts while he parks his car in front of a convenience store to buy something for both of you to eat.

Hugs you from behind: Nam will see you, in the kitchen, preparing some food for the both of you or just cleaning, whipping some breakfast, whatever you’re doing, and he’ll go behind you and wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your neck. 

Tries his hardest to make you smile 24/7: Kim Namjoon is a well-known people pleaser, so it is obvious that he’ll try his hardest to make you comfortable and smile every single time he has the chance. Even if it means putting himself in an uncomfortable position, he’ll selflessly put you first, because you’re his priority, and give you what you want. Because he loves you so much.

Nicknames for you: Babe, Cutie (that’s so Nam), Hon (short for honey)

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He’s a tease: As I said before, whenever he hugs you from behind, if he woke up with a hard on, he’ll press it against your ass while he mouths at the skin of your neck. “Someone woke up excited this morning” you’d say. Oh, you have no idea. In other situations, out in public, he’d put his hand on your thigh, rubbing it up and down, trying to play nonchalant. But you both know that he’s a little shit and he’s only trying to rile you up.

Favourite position: Cowgirl. Definitely. As someone who leads a boyband, being in charge can be tiring, so he’ll give up his leadership and give it to you in the bedroom. He’s not complaining though. His view from down there is heavenly. 

Aftercare: He’s a sucker for aftercare. He likes to shower you with praise words after he’s cleaned you up while he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you close to him.

Loves getting head: He won’t admit it freely, but I feel like Nam goes weak when he sees you drop to your knees in front of him to suck him off. He’ll go even weaker when you’d look up at him, giving him doe teary eyes while your tongue is wrapped around him.

KIM SEOKJIN

SFW

Teases you every single time: I mean… is it that obvious? The man’s a born teaser. I think that’s his love language. He wouldn’t act like that around anyone. He’d see you lazing around, comfortably, and he’d feel the need to pull lightly on your hair, drawing a pout from you as he smiles while leaning forward to kiss it away. 

Loves to make you laugh: The joker of the group would always try his hardest to make you laugh. He knows you love his absolutely dumb jokes and he loves that you love them. 

Saves you from embarrassment: Seokjin is a person that’s not easily embarrassed, but you are. Whenever he sees your cheeks flushed and looking away, he’ll put himself in your position and embarrass himself three times more. You fell down the stairs? Don’t worry! Jin will fall down with you and laugh about it as soon as your asses plop on the floor. You told an unfunny joke and nobody laughed? No biggie. Your boyfriend’s there to be the loudest laugh in the room. 

Holds your hand during horror movies: He’s not the biggest fan of horror movies, but he’ll suffer through them for you. He’ll hold your hand when a jumpscare comes up and soaks in the feeling of you wrapping your arms around him as you yelp in surprise. It’ll probably happen once or twice that he’ll be the one to jump on top of you because he got scared lol. 

Takes you on fishing dates: Seokjin loves fishing, we all know it. And he loves you. So why not combine the two things he loves? He’ll teach you how to pull on the fishing rod, how to stake the bait through the hook, how to store the fish once it’s already out, you name it. He’ll take any chance he gets to take pictures of you while your hair flies around everywhere with the wind and you smile mindlessly. He’s just so in love with you. 

Nicknames: Sweetheart, Girlfriend (I so imagine him going, “hey, girlfriend” and you replying, “Hey boyfriend”), Babe

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Straight to the bedroom after he comes from tour: He’ll get back home and the first thing he does is carry you all the way to your shared bed and start pulling your clothes off. He’ll ask you how your week has been during the post-sex bath he’d run for the both of you.

Favourite position: Spooning. He’ll spoon you from behind and slip his shaft inside you, holding your hips in place while he thrusts against you, making you grasp onto the pillows tightly. He’ll whisper obscenities and kiss your neck as he fucks you hard. 

Handholding: He loves to hold your hand during intimacy. He loves to feel more than just that type of connection with you during sex. You’d feel your stomach swarming with butterflies when you feel his fingers caressing yours delicately. 

Choking: He’s definitely into it. Absolutely. He has really nice hands so he will obviously take advantage of them as he wraps his long ass fingers around your throat, applying pressure on it, eliciting long moans from you. 

MIN YOONGI

SFW: 

Tells you he loves you without words: Yoongi’s someone who has a difficult time showing affection towards others, so he’s more into showing his love with actions. He’ll see you’ve fallen asleep on the couch and he’d smile, pulling a blanket over you so that you don’t get cold. You’d wake up in your shared bed, and you’d look around, confused as to why you’ve suddenly appeared out of nowhere there. You’d walk to the kitchen and find him cooking some ramen and you’d ask, after you greet him. “I fell asleep on the couch, I think I sleepwalked to the bed and-”, “Oh no, you didn’t. I took you there. Figured you didn’t want a sore neck like last time” he said, so nonchalantly, an action that was born out of him so spontaneously. 

“Come home, Holly misses you” texts: He’ll never admit he’s missing you, so he’ll project his feelings onto the little poodle you two call your pet. You’d smirk and text back: “Be right there, honey. Don’t want Holly to miss me too much ;)” . He’ll reply with a: “Yeah, he misses you so much it’s killing him, so hurry up!”

Writes songs for you:  Our favourite producer, singer-songwriter would definitely take advantage of his muse and write endless amounts of songs about her (you). Yoongi would get shy about them but he’ll work up the courage and show them to you, because he feels you deserve to have billions of songs written about you. “You wrote a song about me?!” you’d squeal. He’d look down and hide his blush. “Yeah… it’s no big deal”. Um, yes, it is!

You’re his weakness: Yoongi is an impenetrable person. He doesn’t have any weaknesses. Until you came along. He’ll be in his studio, a frown streaked across his face, and you’d walk inside the room and a gummy smile would automatically plaster into his face. “Hi, baby!” you’d coo and he’d just blush, his face completely red but his heart would be close to jump out of his chest. On another occasion, the members would be pressuring him about going somewhere and Yoongi would shake his head. “Y/N said she’s coming” Namjoon remembers. Yoongi’s head whips up and would smile a little. “Really?” he’d murmur. His friends would not let that go. 

Craves your touch: You are the only one who’d he’d let cling all over him. In fact, he loves it. Yoongi suddenly realises he’s so freaking touch starved, he’d start to be the clingy one in the relationship. You’d be watching a movie and both of his arms are around you, bringing you comfort. 

Nicknames: Jagiya (Korean word for “baby”), Beautiful, Angel

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Mean dom: I mean… are we even surprised? He’d be pissed off about something (when is he not lol) and he’d just grab your legs, throw you into any position of his liking and start fucking you into oblivion while he holds you down. “You wanna come? You gotta earn it”. He has his soft side, of course, when he’s feeling all romantic but he’d still be the one to lead in the bedroom. 

Favourite position: Hear me out: Sitting in front of a mirror. Yeah. He’d just love to have you all spread out on your cock as he watches you, with your head pressed against his shoulder while his hands run all over your body, gripping, slapping and caressing. He wouldn’t know what to do with so much skin to touch, he’d go crazy. 

Oral lover: Mr. Tongue Technology is the best at it and he knows it. He’d plaster his face onto your core and insert his tongue, letting it work its magic, while you squirm around and clench the sheets. Yoongi would smirk into your cunt and look up at you. “How’s that, jagiya?” and your response would be a high pitched moan. 

Fingering: Yeah, with those veiny big ass hands, who wouldn’t? Yoongi doesn’t care where you two are. It could be on the plane, with all of the members in front of you, he’s sneak his hand underneath the blanket covering both of you and rub the pads of his fingers over your clothed pussy. “Yoongi… the others-“ you’d start whispering but he’d silence you with a kiss as he moves your underwear to the side and inserts his two fingers in and out, scissoring and rubbing your clit with his thumb in tight circles. Your nails would dig into his arm and hide your face into his neck, while his face would remain with the most nonchalant expression ever. 

JUNG HOSEOK

SFW

Sunshine of the relationship: Mr. Sunshine would never let you feel down. If you’re feeling like crying, he’d be the one to give you his shoulder and then, he’d take you out to your favourite restaurant, treat you with a nice meal and then take you to an ice cream parlour just to see you smile. 

Buys you loads of clothes: Hobi is someone who has an addiction to shopping, and because he’s always thinking about you, whenever he’s out to a shopping trip to the mall (which is once in a week at least), he’d probably buy more clothes for you than for him because, “Look at this dress, darling! I just pictured you wearing this dress while we have a picnic by the lake and I just had to buy it for you” he excuses himself while you were about to give him shit for spending so much on you. Of course, he uses that excuse with every single article of clothing he pulls out of the bag. 

He’d go to the gym for you: “Nooo… please, let’s just stay at home and watch Mean Girls together” he’d plead. You’d just laugh, standing with your gym bra and leggings. You had been telling Hobi about the new gym that opened up down the block and you made him promise you you’d both go and try it. “You promised me we’d go” you whined. He just looks at you and sees your puppy eyes, bottom lip out in a pouting manner. Fuck you for being so adorable. “Fine… okay. But we are ordering Kimchi and we’ll watch Mean Girls”

Café dates: I feel like Hoseok is the type of person to see a cute café and go there, no second thoughts. You two would have a list of cute cafés (kudos if it is a cat café) and every week you try one or two from the list. You two use that list as an excuse to just go out and do couples shit, because you both love spending time together. 

Gallery filled with your photos: “Yo, Hobi, there’s no space in your phone anymore” Jimin would tell him, as he had asked him for his phone to take a picture. Hobi would grab his phone, confused. As he clicked on the gallery icon, he’d see the amount of pictures in them and how 97% of them are photos of you. You on dates, asleep, with Mickey, just you. He’d look up at Jimin and shrug, sheepishly. He’s not deleting those pictures. He’ll just buy a new phone and fill it with more pictures of you. 

Nicknames: Darling, Babe, Sweetie

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High sex drive: Okay, so, one thing that is characteristic of sunshine personalities is the capability of having such a high amount of energy. In the bedroom, that’s not an exception. Hoseok can pull all nighters, no doubt. He’s into quickies as well, I’d say. He doesn’t matter the situation or whatever you’re wearing. Just your pretty face will turn him on and he can go anywhere, anytime. 

Favourite position: Bent over. He’ll like to bend you over any surface and just take you. He’s a hair puller for sure. Maybe a little spanking, but I don’t see him being such a huge fan of it. 

Aftercare: Like Nam, I think he considers aftercare very important and a moment where he finds a true connection with you. He finds sex is more enjoyable when there’s love shown afterwards. He wants you to know that he would never use you like that and honestly? He gets cuddly after the deed so…

Love-making Lover: Even if he enjoys fucking you hard and making you scream, lover-boy loves a good round of just romantic sex. Face to face, while his hands are everywhere, as he whispers against your neck just how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you. 

PARK JIMIN

SFW:

Gets shy around you: He’d get all flustered when he sees you. Of course, you’d poke fun at him, baby-talking to him while he just giggles and hides his face against your neck, his face in a full red shade as you just cackle at his antics. 

Naps on your chest: Jimin would lay on your chest, face squished between your boobs and nap for hours if you’d let him. He’s never felt more comfortable than feeling your body heat, heating up through his shirt, with his arms around you, holding you close, as you card your fingers through his hair while he immediately falls into a deep slumber.

Cheek kisses: I feel like Jimin is the type of person who has his arms wrapped around you 24/7 and his mouth is always pressed against your cheek. He loves to press his nose against your cheek and whisper sweet things to you, like “You are so beautiful, my love”, “Have I told you how much I love you today?” all while he presses his thousandth kiss of the day against your cheek. And it’s only noon. 

Hides his jealousy: I don’t think Jimin would get jealous but if he sees you cozying up with somebody, he’d never tell you, because he’d hate to create unnecessary drama between you two, but he’d be a little insecure about it. Just the thought of you leaving him is enough to make him cry. You’d notice, like the best girlfriend you are, and you’d reassure him. “You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna choose you over somebody else, Chim” you’d whisper into his neck as he pretends he’s asleep (against your chest, obviously). He’d slightly smile, trying to continue pretending he’s sleeping, but he’s the happiest person on earth to hear those reassuring words. 

Sensible lover: He’s so understanding when it comes to feelings. He’d never overshadow them or push them aside, he’ll always be the most empathetic person ever and listen to you, and try to help you with all his might. Jimin also knows you like the palm of his hand so don’t even try to hide your feelings from him. He knows when you need to hit a pause and break down a little. 

Nicknames: My love (of course), lover, honey

NSFW: 

Shower sex: Jimin loves a good round of shower sex. It depends on the mood, but he can be a gentle lover or somebody who’d just press your body against the tiles and leave your legs shaking as you come while he has you hoisted up in his arms. He’ll wash you afterwards, his soft and gentle hands running the soap all over your body as he drops a few kisses over your skin. 

Favourite position: Missionary. He loves seeing your face contorted in pleasure while he kisses you with his plump lips. 

Oral for both of you: He’d be into 69 for sure. It’s not something that he’d do every day, but he knows he loves when you give him head and absolutely loves destroying your cunt with his tongue and fingers. But he’d love to have you on his face, as he inserts his tongue inside of you while you choke on his dick. 

Lots of sweet talk: I feel like Jimin is so romantic and a person that, when he falls in love, he falls hard, that he needs to voice those thoughts. So, when he’s deep inside of you, those thoughts will spill themselves. He can't help it. You feel so good and he loves you so much.

KIM TAEHYUNG

SFW:

Car drives late at night: Tae loves listening to music while driving with you, while he holds your hand or just grips your thigh, rubbing it up and down. You don’t need a destination or a reason to get the car keys and go for a drive, you both know you love each other’s company and honestly, who doesn’t love Taehyung’s sweet, deep voice as he sings along to your favourite songs. “What are you staring at?” he’d chuckle. “You” you whisper. He’d smile at you and pulls you into a sweet short kiss.

Gifting: It’s kind of like his love language. And it could be any type of gift. Two tickets to a museum (an excuse to have a date with you), a pair of earrings he saw you eyeing a few days ago, or he’d be the kind of boyfriend to restock your favourite snacks, buy your body wash, lotions or perfumes when he sees you’re running out of them. “Tae… why did you buy three boxes of perfume?” you’d ask. He’d turn around and smile, “Oh, I saw it was almost running out and thought I could get you a new one”. He’d never admit it out loud but he loves your scent and he wants to smell that perfume on you for the rest of his life. 

Facetiming: If he’s on tour, he’ll facetime in his freetime. He can’t go that long without seeing your pretty face or hearing your sweet voice he loves so much. While you rant about your day, Tae will just stare with a goofy smile at your face as he thinks how fucking lucky he is he found you. 

Flirts in front of his friends: A subtle way of telling everyone “she’s mine” is flirting shamelessly in front of everybody. He’ll have his hand on your waist and grip it tightly while he sometimes brush his hand up and down towards your ass. “Did you watch that rom-com that I recommended you last night?” one of your friends would ask, and before you could answer, Tae would say: “Nah, we were too busy last night” he’d smirk. “Ew” Hoseok would scrunch his nose while you hit his shoulder. “Hey! It’s not my fault you’re hot!”

Morning kisses: Tae would be the type of boyfriend who wakes you up giving you a full shower of kisses. He’d murmur a “Good morning, my muse” with a soft kiss to your cheek as you open your eyes, his pretty face blinding you almost. You’d immediately smile and his heart would be close to bust out of his chest. 

Nickname: Muse, baby, beautiful

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Desperate: Tae is someone who’s passionate and he’s desperate for connection. He’d be the type to throw you into the bed after quickly discarding both your clothes and fucking you raw and frantically. He loves skin-to-skin contact and it sends him into orbit how you are just as desperate for him as he is for you. 

Favourite position: All fours and riding. He loves both of them. He just can’t choose. He loves having you on his bed, with your face pressed against his sheets while your ass bounce against his hips and he grips your hair. But, as well, he loves sitting on the couch and having you giving him the ride of his life every single time. His face would be pressed against your chest as he sucks at your nipples and moans against them. 

Boob lover: Yes, of course. Taehyung would prefer boobs before ass every single time. It doesn’t need to be during a sexual innuendo to grab at your boobs, sometimes he falls asleep while his hands are filled with your boobs. But yes, he’s a man after all, and he loves gripping, twisting and sucking on your tits because he’d die a happy man between those. 

Hickeys: That’s a total yes for him. It’s another way to stake his claim on you, a way to show everyone that he’s the one responsible for that sweet assault on your neck. “Oh my God, Y/N! Who did that?” one of your friends would gasp as they tried to hide their laughter. You’d turn your head and find Taehyung with a shit-eating grin. “All me” he’d proudly state like a little shit. 

JEON JUNGKOOK

SFW: 

Cries after a fight: Jungkook is such a sensible little man and he’d be so hurt after a fight. He hates fighting in general, but what he’d hate even more is fighting with you, the love of his life. He’d regret everything as soon as it's over and immediately try to apologise, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. You’d feel bad as you see him almost on his knees and those doe eyes filled with tears. It’d bring you to tears yourself and the night would end up with both of you cuddled in bed as you reassure the other how much you love each other. 

Princess treatment: Absolutely. You are his little princess, and that means he gets to spoil you with gifts, carry your shoes if they make your feet hurt, piggyback rides if you’re feeling tired, dates at luxurious restaurants, you name it. 

Clingy: Jungkook’s clingy. We all know it. But who wouldn’t love it? He’d bring you with him on tour (after he’d begged and begged to his knees to the staff to let you come with him) and he’d keep you around him all the time. You’d get a little scared the members might find you annoying or overwhelming for him, as you’re always there, but they know Jungkook needs you close all the time, so they’re fine and happy for their maknae. 

Loves to see you wearing his clothes: He feels his knees get weak when he sees you wearing his shirt, as it goes past your knees while you rub your eyes from sleep. He unconsciously bites his lip while you don’t notice the way he’s lusting over you at 8 in the morning. 

Spams your phone with selfies: He’ll either steal your phone and when you grab it, you’ll find he took about 200 pictures, making silly faces or pouting cutely or he’ll just send the same amount of selfies when he’s away. He knows it annoys you but deep down he also knows you love having so many pictures of your pretty boyfriend you love so much. 

Nicknames: Princess, baby, jagiya.

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Dirty talk: He’s so into it, he’d not only whisper it, he’d just say it straight to your face, making you clench around nothing. “You wanna suck my cock, yeah?” he’d moan. “Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby”. “Look at how dumb my cock is making you”

Favourite position: Against the wall. Man’s a gym-bro so he’ll obviously take advantage of that so that he can press you against the nearest wall and hammer your sweet spot, making your arousal squirt out of you with how hard he likes fucking you. 

Slapping: Are we surprised? We’ve all seen the butt obsession he has and you wouldn’t be the exception. Your ass would be red and sore by the time he’s done with you. He’d love slapping it as he fucks you from behind, when you’re doing the most mundane things like brushing your teeth, cooking or bending down to pick up a fallen object. “Hey!” you’d squeal. “Sorry, your ass looked so tempting, babe”. I think, if you’re okay with it, he’d slap your face with his palm or his cock. He loves seeing you whine when he does it and how your cheek starts turning red from the stinging. 

Biting: Jungkook likes biting a lot and loves giving you hickeys all over your body. He also loves getting bitten as well, especially his nipples. 

[vanillakook]

MUNCH ꔫ - JJK

synopsis: jungkook is an ass man (he told me himself)

parings: jk x reader, established relationship

warnings: mdni 18++, sexual themes and mature language, dom!jk, sub!reader, lots of mentions of ass, slight ass play, mentions of anal, man handling, unspecified unprotected sex, doggystyle, penetrative sex, pet names and slight degradation, etc.

genre: smut drabble

word count: 401 (tiny)

jungkook is an ass guy, and it’s all due to you.

you made him fall in love with your cute, plump ass and all the perks that came along with it. from the way you had to jump to get your jeans on to how your cheeks swallowed a nice lacy pair of thongs. his favorite thing to have you in was a little tank top that fell off your shoulders and never reached below your belly, as well as a cute teeny pair of cheekster panties that sank farther into your ass as you did tasks and chores around your shared apartment, always on display for him and his aching member. he also loved how your soft ass felt, nice and powdery under his fingertips when he’d feel you up. he was so gentle with it most times, greeting you always with a hug and handfuls of your ass, kneading the thick flesh like it was the softest dough. other times like now, he would be rough with his touch, gripping and smacking on your ass as it clapped back on his pelvis while he wrecked your cute pussy.

your tears stained the white linen of your bed while you pushed him away and clawed at his toned stomach, which earned you another handprint on a cheek of his choice. “uh uh sweetheart, come back here and take it–“ he grunted as sweat beaded his forehead and he pulled you closer by your waist. he landed another smack on you, finishing off with a mean grip. he was so fucking addicted to the ripples and the cries that fell from your mouth afterward.

“pretty baby likes it when i smack that fat ass around huh?” he said after delivering another and watching the beautiful recoil.

“love it so much kookie, want more on me!” your pleasure filled screams were ripped out of you one by one.

“mhmm that’s right pretty girl, can i play here?” he had made you flinch when he put his soft thumb over your sweet puckered hole.

“yes koo, w-want you to play with it!” you weren’t too experienced with anal but one thing you knew you loved was clenching your tight little asshole around his thumb while your pussy was filled to the brim with his cock.

“such a good girl, letting me use these slutty holes.” and just as you asked, you received when his thumb slipped right into you, making your back arch and having jungkook’s thoughts run rampant about how he’d love to shove his cock inside and stretch out that ass when the time came. until then he’d be enjoying another perk he loved, which was painting your ass with strings of his hot cum. he watched the seed trickle down between your ass cheeks and glazing up that fucked out pussy. he took one look at your lewd expression and thought about how he could stay here and worship your ass forever.

masterlist

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: YoongixReader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 

Your voice wavered, what were you— 

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven��t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?” 

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar. 

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

[highvern]

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[yoonlattesworld]

Respectfully, his

Dilf yandere lawyer yoongi x reader one shot

🥀synopsis: you're his. That's it. It doesn't matter how messed up it is from society's view point. You belong to him and if someone tries to take what's his away, he'll just have to get rid of them. Simple right?

🥀genre/warnings: dilf yoongi, yandere yoongi, legal age gap, dad's bestfriend, smut, angst, romance, possessive yoongi, murder, blood, forbidden relationship,humiliation kink,daddy kink, blow job, profanities, name calling, a little drama

A/n: currently in my yandere obsession era 🤟🏻also, there are some themes in here that might be upsetting to some readers. So please don't read this if you're uncomfortable with yandere themes.

Main masterlist

Yoongi masterlist

Author's pov

Min yoongi was territorial man.

How territorial you ask?

You'll see soon

A gasp left your lips when you were suddenly pulled in by someone and a familiar hand pressed against your mouth to muffle the small yelp that slipped from your lips. Had you not recognized the feeling of his hand on you, your heart would have jumped out of your chest.

"Mr min" a small giggle left your lips when you felt him kissing along your neck "yoongi " he murmured as he locked the door with one hand while the other wrapped around your throat as he pressed your front against the locked door. You gasped softly when you felt his bulge pressing against your soft ass.

His voice came out in a low growl as he rutted against your ass with his one hand squeezing your breast gently "missed you so damn much,angel" you whimpered softly and your back arched as you felt your nipples hardening at his ministrations and heat pooled between your legs when he pinched your pebbled bud gently.

"Y-yoongi anyone can hear us" your voice came out in between soft pants as his free hand travelled down your body until he was cupping your sex in his large hand. you gasp in both pain and pleasure when he squeezed your womanhood . He yanked you back towards him tightly, his hips continued their movements as he mumbled "hold this pretty dress up for me sweetheart "

You gasped once again as he rubbed you over clothes and bunched up your dress, holding it up with shaky hands. A dark chuckle left his pretty lips when he brushed a finger on your plush folds and found how wet you were "you're fucking drenched angel. Sure you want me to stop?" He hummed deeply as a low groan fell from his lips when you whined shakily "d-daddy"

He cursed under his breath and turned you around before yanking down his pants just enough to pull out his rock hard dick. He fisted his cock as his eyes took you in. The thin stips of your satin dress were hanging over your shoulders, revealing the swell of your breasts which were heaving as you panted with flushed cheeks. A low curse fell from his lips as he pulled you against him and picked you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist with a breathy giggle. "Yoongi" you whispered, moaning softly as he pushed your ruined panties aside and rubbed your soaked pussy in slow circles. He hummed in reply as his fingers worked in a out of your tightness impatiently.

"B-be gentle I'm still sore from last night" your voice came out in a breathy moan as the head of his cock teased your entrance "I'll try, doll. You can't expect me to be gentle after skipping around in this little dress around so many important people." He grunted as he slowly entered you "you enjoyed watching me hide a fucking boner in front of your dad?" You gasped when he suddenly slammed inside you, causing you to grip his shoulders as his thick cock brushed against each part of your womanhood "o-oh god-" you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair and he slammed his lips on yours in a messy kiss. Your teeth and tongues clashed together as he kept slamming inside you, his grip around your thighs tightening. "Did you want your dad to know that his innocent little daughter was teasing his best friend the whole night like the little slut she is?" He growled lowly with his hand tangling in your long hair.

A mixture of a gasp and a moan left your lips when he tugged your hair causing him to chuckle darkly as you whimpered "n-no he can't know" "what would he think when he finds out his daughter rides my cock every night while he's asleep hmm?" You shaked your head as tears slipped down your face while your high approached rapidly "h-he would'nt like that. Oh-yoongi he can't know that-!" yoongi increased his speed when he felt your pussy twitching and his lips attacked your neck. He sucked deep purple marks on your sensitive skin as he felt his own high approaching "what will he do when he finds out that his daughter is letting a man twice her age cum inside her?" The humiliation and pain of overstimulation pushed you towards your high and the only thing you felt was him sealing your lips with his own to swallow your loud moan as his own high washed over him.

Your back arched as you milked his cock and your eyes fell shut when you felt his load of cum filling you up to the brim. While he buried his face in your neck as he came with a deep groan of your name. The only sound which could be heard was your pants and small whimpers when he moved his hips causing you whimper in slight pain. "You good?" He mumbled pressing a soft kiss on your forehead as his fingers wiped your tears softly. A soft smile made its way to his lips when you opened your eyes and looked at him shyly "hey babygirl" he rasped, kissing your lips softly "hi" you giggled shyly "put me down yoongs, aren't you tired?" He narrowed his eyes playfully while you giggled kissing his nose "are you calling me old, angel?" You shook your head with a bright smile. Something which caused his eyes to go soft. There was the smile he fell in love with. "You're so fucking gorgeous" your eyes widened and your cheeks warmed up when he kept on staring at you intensely. As if he was drinking in every beautiful detail of your soft features.

Your fingers played with his hair as you looked away to avoid his eyes "w-we should go back now or someone can get suspicious-" your words halted when you felt him twich inside you and looked at him with wide eyes "no" you whispered sharply "I'm really sore-" "i promise I'll be gentle, doll" was the last thing you heard before a sharp thrust scattered your thoughts.

He was anything but gentle.

After fucking you for another hour, you forced him to get out so you could fix yourself. Your legs were shaking as you walked out of the room and went straight to your bedroom. Not before sticking your tongue out at him, to which he simply smirked as he watched you limp up the stairs.

You had avoided your dad's guests most of the night. Why? Because right now your dad was trying to set you up with another one of his friend's son. You may have unintentionally used the same son to make a certain someone jealous. And now you regret it just a little bit. Because your knees were starting to hurt. "Fucking hell,doll" yoongi groaned and his grip around your hair tightened as he increased his speed.

You could only choke and gag against his cock as he slammed in your throat again. What happened? Well jeon jungkook, a potential son in law for your dad, visited your house as per yours and his dad's wishes. Unfortunately he came when yoongi was in your dad's study and unfortunately he heard the familiar annoying voice of the young man. (You think his voice is very melodic but you can't say that in front of yoongi) it was fine when you and jungkook were sitting on the couch until yoongi walked down the stairs. You almost drolled because of how good he looked. In his three piece suit and expensive rings and watch and his long hair styled perfectly. He didn't looked like he was in a good mood so you assumed his clients were being buttholes again. Being one of the biggest defense lawyer is hard you understand.

So when he gave your little shorts one look of disapproval, you immediately excused yourself to your room to wear something longer. The last thing you wanted was to irritate him even more. Don't get the wrong idea, he loves it when you wear tiny shorts and skirts but only when he is the only one admiring how good you look in them. And right now he wanted to gauge that little jerk's eyes out because he was staring at what belonged to him.

Yoongi watched you with a tight jaw as you walked past him. His eyes dark with possessiveness. And a pleasant shiver ran down your spine when his long fingers brushed against your soft thigh for a moment.

Poor jungkook was already intimidated by the older man since the first time he saw him but right now he was scared for his life because yoongi was looking at him like he wanted to skin him alive so he opted to excuse himself too and went to find you.

The first mistake jungkook made was even thinking about marrying you. That was enough to make yoongi's blood boil. The second mistake he made was looking at you with any inappropriate thought in his mind. That was enough to make yoongi want to kill him. The third mistake he made? Entering your room.

"You know you're the first guy I've let inside my room" you murmured placing a soft kiss on the top of his head. A small gasp left your lips when his arms around your waist tightened and his face buried further in your chest "first and last, doll" you giggled softly, enjoying the way he held you possessively "are you jealous yoonie?" He groaned at the nickname and squeezed one of your breast in a warning ,causing you to squeak in surprise before falling in a fit of giggles again "don't worry yoonie. You know you're the only one who gets a nickname made my me" you said proudly causing him to Chuckle fondly as you continued playing with his hair "I'm very honored my lady" you smiled widely as he snuggled in your chest "now keep talking. I wanna hear you"

It seemed like you were surprised to see jungkook entering your room too because he could hear you from the stairs "jungkook! Um I'll be right down, you didn't need to come here" "it's fine. I was curious to see what your room looked like and its very colorful-"

That little shit.

Before you could say anything,your bedroom door ripped open and your eyes widened when you saw yoongi standing at the doorway with his eyes glowing with anger. If he looked angry before then now he looked furious. And that wasn't good. Because he was staring straight at jungkook who looked at you nervously.

You looked at yoongi with wide eyes and shaked your head as he opened his mouth. His voice eerily calm "i don't think you're supposed to be here" jungkook opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off "mr min!" You chirped gaining his attention and you saw his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly when you smiled at him "remember last time i told you that i have a few questions regarding your last case? So if you're free, can we go over them right now?" Yoongi's jaw was still tight when he balled his fist and his free hand loosened his tie slightly. You know he does this when he is trying to control his anger.

He nodded stiffly, still glaring at the poor boy who looked extremely confused and maybe a little scared too. "Jungkook" you smiled "can we continue our conversation next time? I'm not sure if you know but I'm studying law and i have these weekly lessons with mr min so if you'd excuse me"

Yoongi almost scoffed as he looked at you with a proud smirk. There was a time when you used to scold him for his language. Weekly lessons his ass.

"Oh" jungkook blinked before nodding "of course yes i didn't knew you were studying law" that's because you weren't. "I'll take my leave then. See you later y/n" jungkook went to take your hand to press a kiss on your knuckles but stopped with a jump when he heard a low growl.

And that's how you ended up where you are right now. On your knees in the guest room with his cock down your throat while your dad is sitting in the room above. "There's no next time. You understand?" Yoongi gritted with a tight jaw. You nodded as best you could with a small whimper as tears blurred your eyes. A deep growl left his lips as he took in your teary eyes and flushed face, with saliva dripping down your chin as you took him like the good girl you were.

You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as you saw his abdomen muscles clenching "look at you doll" he cooed mockingly "you're dripping just by sucking my cock. What's got you this wet hmm? Was it that little cunt?" You immediately shaked your head, gagging as he fucked you deeper "than who is it angel? Who are you dripping for?" His deep voice had a dangerous tilt to it. One that had you shake in both fear amd excitement "y-you" you mumbled, feeling yourself gushing as he let out a small groan with his head lolling forward "you're mine,y/n. You hear me? You belong to me. So if you don't want that guy's head separated from his neck, don't meet him again" you nodded yet again mumbling "y-yours yoongi" "fuck" he cursed lowly as his high washed over him.

His thrusts got sloppier as he shot ropes amd ropes of hot cum down your throat. Of course you gulped down everything. You were panting heavily when he gently pulled out of your mouth and pulled you up on his lap while breathing heavily. You sniffled quietly as he wiped your tears softly "did i hurt you angel?" It never failed to amaze you how his voice changed in an instant "no" you whispered shaking your head with a small pout causing him to smile softly "what's wrong?" You cupped his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips before whispering "don't think I'm interested in anyone else but you yoongs. You're the only one i l-love" you whispered the last word nervously and your heart tightened with worry when his face went blank.

And suddenly, a dark chuckle left his lips "don't say things like that without thinking of the consequences doll" you looked at him with big confused eyes as he bit his lip, his eyes darkening as he saw the innocence behind your brown irises "you know how strong that word is? You know the meaning of that word? Let me tell you little dove. It means that once you say it, you're mine forever. I'm never letting you go y/n. And I'll ruin everything which comes in between us. It doesn't matter who or what. Because I'm willing to burn this whole damn world for you. Now think again and tell me doll. Do you love me?"

Did his words scare you? Maybe a little bit. But they also gave you a sense of security and comfort. Was it even right to feel comfort in such dangerous words? You don't know and you don't care to find out. Because well, you've always been a little clumsy and maybe that's why you fell for him so easily.

Taking a deep breath you nodded, looking at him with shaky yet determined eyes "i love you yoongi" slowly, his blank eyes gained thousands of emotions. Some of which you couldn't even describe. But you didn't need to anyway, when a smile formed on his lips "good. Because i love you too angel. So fucking much you can't imagine" your breath stuttered when his lips brushed against yours softly at first, before he pressed his lips on yours firmly. You don't know if his hands were shaking due to nervousness, or excitement when he layed you down on the bed and looked at you like you held the whole world in your small palms.

"Now be a good girl and lay down, babygirl. Let me show you how much i love you"

~▪︎~

It seemed like every good thing was happening in one week. Two days have passed since you confessed your feelings for him and now you can confidently say you have a boyfriend. Although he insisted that he was your boyfriend, your whatever you wanted him to be since the moment you came in his life, you were still very happy to the new commitment. Now the only problem remained was your father. How can you tell him that you're in love with his bestfriend? How can you tell anyone that you're in love with a man who is old enough to be your father?

The small fickle of guilt was always present in the back of your mind every time you found yourself in his arms. But you forgot it every time he entered you.

Well, telling your father can wait because right now you were over the moon. Why? Because you just came to know that your dad is going on a business trip for 2 weeks. Which means you can stay with yoongi freely for 2 weeks!

You hummed a tune as you skipped down the hall and towards your dad's study. "Hi daddy!" You chirped poking your head through the door causing the older man to chuckle fondly as he opened his arms "hi princess " you giggled and buried yourself in his arms, sighing softly when he kissed your head.

Even though you're really happy to spend time with yoongi, you're a little sad too because you'll miss your dad very much :(

It seemed like he noticed the sadness on your face because he squeezed you tight for a second causing you to giggle softly "don't worry princess. You can call me anytime you want okay?" You nodded hugging him tighter.

"Yoongi, you're here" you froze hearing your dad Chuckling and a familiar warmth spread inside you when you heard his deep voice "I'm not interrupting you am i?" "No of course not. My little girl has always been a little emotional hasn't she?" You smiled at your dad and stepped back glancing at yoongi who was already looking at you with soft eyes "take care of her while I'm gone,old man" yoongi scoffed causing you giggle quietly as you tried to push the guilt down "you don't need to ask that and you're 4 months older than me grandpa" your dad grumbled something under his breath as he took his suitcase "just because you're more fit doesn't mean I'm grandpa" yoongi chuckled deeply as he followed your dad down the stairs "you'll be late for your flight hyunsoo"

At the airport you waved your dad goodbye and as he disappeared, you were in yoongi's arms. "Now let me take care of you angel" you smiled at him who smiled back. Kissing his nose softly, you teased "think you can handle me for 2 weeks , grandpa" you squeaked when he pinched your hip gently and lowered his head until he was biting your bottom lip softly "you have no idea how well i can handle brats, babygirl. Now get your cute butt in the car" "yes daddy"

~▪︎~

It's been 4 days since your dad left and those four days seemed to be the best days of your life. You talked to your dad every night before falling asleep. But in the day, yoongi spoiled you rotten. He would start the day by waking you up by sucking your sweet little pussy. And he'd fuck you sweet and slow before carrying you to the shower claiming to clean you up but you'd end up pressed against the cold tiles with him inside you again. Then he would make you breakfast and then watch you get dressed. After that he would take you to multiple malls and brand stores even though you have more than enough clothes. But according to him there's no such thing as too many when it comes to you.

He actually fucked you in the dressing room once because you just looked really good in that tight little dress. After coming home he'd work for a bit before getting distracted by you again when you would innocently come and sit on his lap. He'd end up fucking you again. And of course he'll fuck you again on his king sized bed.

And if you weren't at his place, he was at yours. You both were fully lost in each other's presence. So lost that you got a little too careless.

~▪︎~

You sighed with content as you skipped in the living room, placing the multiple shopping bags on the table before flopping on the couch. Gosh your legs are aching even though yoongi massaged them last night while you talked with your dad. You both were having a nice lunch when he suddenly got a work call. He was going to cancel an important meeting but you forced him to go. So he dropped you off at your house before leaving for work.

"Miss y/n?" You opened your eyes and smiled as you saw the head maid mina. But your smile dropped slightly when you noticed the nervousness in her eyes "what's wrong?" You questioned sitting up straighter . She cleared her throat before giving you the telephone "sir l/n would like to talk to you" you smiled widely as you took the phone from her hand "hey dad! How come you're free right now?" "Y/n" your Smile dropped once again when you heard his voice. He sounded..angry? "Dad? What happened?" You asked nervously and the next thing he said , made your heart drop.

"What is your relation with yoongi?" You felt your heart pounding as you tried to calm your breathing. Your hand clutched yoongi's hoodie which you were wearing as you tried to speak as confidently as you could "w-what do you mean, dad? What's my relation with him-?" "Mina saw him coming in our house almost every day y/n. And she also saw that he has been dropping you off every morning. She told me you haven't been home since two nights"

You felt like you couldn't breath

How did you not think about that? You could feel your chest tightening as you felt tears threatening to spill from your eyes "d-daddy-" "i don't want to hear any excuse y/n" you flinched at his sharp tone and your hand clamped your mouth shut to muffle your panicked sobs "just answer me in a yes or no" he sounded nothing like before. The warmth in his voice was gone and only left icy cold chill. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"D-dad please-" you sobbed "y/n" more tears spilled down your face "are you sleeping with him?" Taking a deep shaky breath, you whispered out "yes" the line went dead silent for a moment and you covered your face with your free hand as the fear of not being able to see him again gripped you tightly. And your dad only confirmed that fear "you won't see him again"

You immediately panicked and your eyes widened as you stuttered "n-no dad please i-i love him-" another sob left your lips " do you even know what love is? You're what, 22 and he's my age y/n!" You whimpered as he raised his voice. He never raised his voice at you "you won't see him again and that's final. You're not leaving the house until I'm back. And y/n" you held your breath as you waited for his next words "i never thought you would break my trust like this. Maybe it's my fault i didn't noticed that you weren't my little girl anymore "

"D-dad-" he hung up. You were left to stare at the phone, feeling your heart pounding and tears staining your face. 'You won't see him again' 'i never thought you would break my trust'

At that time, you couldn't think of anything other than him. So with panicked and quick breaths, you dialed his number with shaky fingers. One ring went and another and another and another. A frustrated sob left your lips as you called him again but he didn't pick up. You called him 5 more times praying he picks up but he never did. Sobbing quietly you let the telephone slip from your hand and fall on the floor. You forgot he switches off his phone during important meetings.

Standing up you tiredly made your way up the stairs feeling drained and tired of everything. Why did this have to happen? Did you really made a mistake? Should you have maintained your space with him since the very beginning when you noticed the sparks between you both? Should you have controlled yourself? Should you have agreed to your dad and married jungkook after graduating like he wanted you to?

All these thoughts made your head pound and you buried your face in your pillow. Fresh tears filling your eyes when a wave of his musky scent hit your nose. You didn't remember when you fell asleep. Or how long have you been asleep for. But you were woken up by the sound of your ringtone blaring. Opening your tired eyes, you sniffled quietly as you noticed it was getting dark outside and reached for your phone.

You were suddenly wide awake when you saw his name 'yoongs' sitting up straight you gasped when the call ended before you could pick it and then you noticed how many notifications were waiting for you.

"25 missed calls from yoongs"

"19 unread messages from yoongs"

You felt your eyes getting teary again when he called you and you picked up the call hastily "y-yoongi" a cry of his name left your lips the moment you pressed the phone against your ear and his deep voice calmed the panick inside you "I'm almost there doll. Stop crying please" you cried softly as he pleaded "no angel don't cry please. I'm so fucking sorry i didn't pick your calls. I'll never switch off my phone again" you could hear him pressing the car horn rapidly as he angrily spilled out profanities "i was about to call you when-" "he told you" you whispered feeling light headed as he mumbled "yes" "he knows yoongi" you whimpered "what will happen now?" You heard him curse under his breath "nothing doll. Everything will be fine i promise. I'll talk to him-"

"Maybe we shouldn't see each other again" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself and left a bitter taste behind. The only thing you heard on the other line was a rapid sound of brakes and you assumed he pulled over before he could kill someone. You heard him take a sharp breath before he rasped out "what did you say?" He voice has always been deep but this time it was different. It was deeper with anger and fury. And even though it killed you to repeat what you said, you still did "w-we should stop seeing each other yoongi. D-dad said i broke his trust. That I'm n-not his little girl anymore" you sobbed, hearing nothing but heavy breathing at the other line.

"You're not leaving y/n" you whimpered softly when his voice broke "you don't get to leave now angel. I warned you before. I told you that once you say that word, I'll never let you leave" "i-i don't want to leave either yoongi i love you" you whispered "but i can't hurt him either, he's my dad" "I'm coming there. Don't think about anything else until i get there-" "don't" he froze "i can't meet you right now yoongi. I can't leave the house and you shouldn't come here too. The maids will tell him if you do" you begged.

You heard him let out a groan of frustration before a bang was heard causing your eyes to widen "y-yoongi? What happened?" "Nothing" he panted, leaning against the car as blood dripped down from his hand and on the broken side mirror on the ground "nothing" he repeated, taking a deep breath "you can't decide it alone y/n" "yoongi-" "no dammit i fucking love you! I can't live without you anymore can't you understand?!" His eyes clenched shut when he heard another cry leaving your lips "fuck I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to yell-shit"

He rubbed his forehead, taking another breath before saying "I'll think of something babygirl. I know he'll come around. I'll take to him tomorrow. I'll do anything i fucking can you hear me?" "Yes" you whispered "good. Now get up and wash your face and go to sleep. And I won't say this again, y/n. Don't say shit like breaking up again. I'll go insane if i don't see you babygirl. You're my everything" you sniffled quietly whispering "I'm sorry" "it's okay doll" he sighed "yoongi?" "Yeah?" "Will he really be okay with us?" His heart clenched painfully when he heard how timid and small your voice sounded "yes angel. He'll understand. I'll do everything i can." He heard you take a shaky breath before hearing some shuffling "can you stay until i fall asleep?" A tired smile made its way to his lips "of course i can babygirl. Are you laying on your bed?" "Yes" "good girl. Don't think about useless things and get a good sleep yeah? Everything will be fine tomorrow" "yes and yoongi?" "hmm?" "I love you"

A fierce protectiveness snarled in his chest. "And i love you more babygirl. So fucking much you can't imagine" he sat in his car and placed the call on speaker. You were sound asleep by the time he reached home but he still didn't end the call as he laid on his bed still in his suit. Placing an arm over his eyes he groaned quietly, his tense muscles relaxing at the sound of your calm and slow breathing. Fuck you must have been so fucking scared.

His swears his heart had stopped beating when he saw so many missed calls on his phone and he was about to call you back when your dad did. He hadn't as much as flinched when he came to know that your dad knew. Although he did felt a small amount of guilt when he said "i trusted you with my daughter and what did you do? You took away her innocence yoongi. I never thought you of all people would break my trust" but he didn't regret it. He realized today that you were far more important than the 20 years of friendship with your dad.

Soon he fell asleep to the soft sound of your breathing as well. After all tomorrow's a big day.

~▪︎~

"Yoongi? What the hell are you doing here" hyunsoo's jaw clenched when he saw yoongi standing in front of his car at the airport. "We should talk" yoongi mumbled, opening the door causing hyunsoo to scoff angrily "you expect me to talk when you've been sleeping with my daughter?" Yoongi sighed, rubbing his forehead "i have no interest in talking either. But i can't take it when she cries. Also,considering we go way back i thought we can come to an agreement-" "you want to reach a fucking agreement after breaking my trust-!" "I said get in the damn car hyunsoo. You can't and won't be able to take her away from me. So we can do it nicely, or not. I honestly don't care" hyunsoo didn't have any choice other than following yoongi's words because a gun was pressed on his back.

~▪︎~

"I love her and she loves me. I don't see what problem you have with us" yoongi drawled as he looked at the man in front of him with lazy eyes "love?" Hyunsoo scoffed "since when do you do love, yoongi. As far as i remember, your words were 'i can only tolerate women in bedroom' aren't you using y/n for that too?" Yoongi's jaw ticked. How the fuck can he think that yoongi is using you for your body? He'd rather kill himself than hurt you in any way.

"I don't have anything more to say. I've already told you everything i could. You need to understand that i would never hurt y/n in any way possible. I'd rather burn the world than give her any pain" hyunsoo chuckled dryly "you still have a nice way of words yoongi. Just like in college when you scored every girl you wanted" yoongi smirked "you don't understand do you. She's not any other girl" hyunsoo didn't replied but instead kept looking at him with hatred in his eyes.

"I'm asking for the last time. Will you accept us or not?" "Over my dead body" hyunsoo snarled and that was all yoongi needed to give the man standing beside him a nod. Before a gunshot rang in the cold and silent room.

Hyunsoo's shocked but dead eyes stared at yoongi who tched wiping the blood off of his hand with a handkerchief "i wasn't asking because i needed your permission. I was asking because she wanted your permission. And she gets whatever she wants. It doesn't matter how"

~▪︎~

Yoongi held your shaking body in his arms as you buried your face in his chest, unable to look at your father being buried. Yoongi held you tightly, rubbing your back gently as he watched the coffin lowering to the ground with emotionless eyes.

After the ceremony you laid in yoongi's arms, still crying and shaking as you remembered your dad's lifeless body getting buried in the ground. You came to know that your dad was coming home early and that yoongi was going to pick him up. But your dad had already left with another driver who was actually a hitman hired by some people who wanted your dad dead. The only thing you know is that your dad failed to defend those people so they hired someone to kill him.

"Shh I'm sure he doesn't want you to cry, angel" yoongi whispered as you curled up in his arms "he was happy for us" you looked at him surprised "w-what?" Yoongi nodded as he leaned his head against yours "we had talked a few hours before his flight. He approved of us babygirl. He said he wanted you to be happy" "oh my god" you whimpered as fresh tears rolled down your face and you buried your face in his chest "really?" "Yes" he kissed your head "he was going to surprise you but.." you shaked your head,crying softly.

Cupping your face with one hand he said "i promise I'll make sure he suffers for the rest of his life y/n" you nodded believing his every lie. Because why wouldn't you?

He hated seeing you cry but what could he do? When that stubborn man wasn't budging? Killing him was yoongi's last option which he was willing to avoid by he didn't leave him with any choice.

The grief will pass but the happiness of staying by each other's side will stay forever. So it was all worth it.

"I love you yoongi" you whispered a few days later as he hugged you from behind. "I love you too angel" he exhaled watching the orange glow of sunset falling over your face. You watched the news a few days ago. The hitman along with the people who ordered your father's death were found dead. And now you both will be able to live the rest of your lives peacefully.

Right?

So now you know.

Min yoongi is a territorial man.

~▪︎~

Taglist open ♡

@bunnyrhe @rosquilleta @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @creatorspalace @yoonaasa @iheartsvt @xmochiloverx @kyojuro-ska @meow-min @kissme-ornot @wobblewobble822 @kookieaddicted96 @thelilbutifulthings

[run2yoongi]

a reunion - chapter one | myg + knj x reader

while you were an obedient, average, faceless student, everyone knew who min yoongi was. a fire-starting, troublemaking bully. when he was inevitably expelled from your school, your whole community decided he was nothing more than an outcast, destined to end up in a life of crime. unfortunately, ten years later, it became clear they weren’t wrong. 

compared to him, you were a success story. a career woman, the breadwinner of the family. so, when an encounter with an old ex-boyfriend classmate, kim namjoon brings the three of you back together, you fail to realise how much of your comfortable life is on the line.

↳ pairing: ex bf!namjoon x reader, gangster!yoongi

↳ setting: kinda mafia!au, they're more like gangsters idk

↳ warning: harsh language, yoongi threatens reader, consumption of alcohol

↳ word count: 5.1k

navigation: prologue | chapter one

chapter one.

Exhausted. 

That was the only word to describe how you felt. For so long, all you wanted was the be right where you are, a good job, coworkers to each lunch with, a home of your own, and both of your parent’s taken care of in their retirement. It was a quiet, comfortable life. By all accounts, you were a successful person. You were even looking forward to your upcoming school reunion, taking it as an opportunity to talk about how far you’ve come from your days as a nameless face in the school hallways. 

So you felt nothing but guilt plague you when you reached the end of your day to find yourself feeling completely empty. 

‘This is life on the straight and narrow.’ you thought to yourself nearly every day. Then, your mind would wander back to him. Min Yoongi. Where was he? Was he happy? Did he have it right the whole time? 

You didn’t know why he was still so present in your mind nearly ten years on, but you didn’t question it. You were too far in, too committed to making your parents proud to venture off the path. Your life, like your apartment, was clean and organised. Everything was in its right place. The way it’s supposed to be. 

You were shocked when his name came up on a community blog site. Surveillance footage from a bar fight had leaked and spread, being shared amongst your high school contacts. 

@mimichu: ‘That’s brutal. Does anyone know what happened?’

@kzine01: ‘@mimichu ppl are saying its gang related’

@minhoooo: ‘isnt that the min kid?’

@mimichu: ‘It totally is omg he really hasnt changed lol’

You couldn’t help but rewatch the video. It sure looked like him. A much taller, buffer version in dire need of a haircut, but it was him. You watched it another five times to be certain. Even from the grainy footage, you could tell. That lop-sided grin was a stone-cold giveaway. 

Yoongi wandered outside the bar, lighting a cigarette as he scanned his surroundings. He stood still for a moment, gaze locked on to a group of men standing on the street. It looked like he shouted something, tearing the cigarette away from his lips and pointing it at one of the men. You could see the man stiffen up, clearly not anticipating the confrontation. Yoongi took a few steps towards the group who looked on, their expressions obfuscated by the poor video quality. The man appeared to apologise, quickly bowing to Yoongi who took another drag of his cigarette before pausing, then pressing the burning tip to the man’s neck. 

He folded over in pain, the group around him rushing to his side. Yoongi didn’t hesitate to extend an unrestrained kick into the man’s ribs, sending him to the floor and hidden from the camera’s view. The crowd watched on, some attempting to pull Yoongi away from the man as he continued to kick, stepping on him as if he were nothing but scum on the bottom of his shoe. Blood splattered across Yoongi’s cheek, a sadistic grin contorting his features. 

You couldn’t help but wince as the violence continued. Onlookers gathered, reaching for their phones to make calls and record the situation. After two minutes, Yoongi withdrew, glancing up at the street camera with an incredulous glare before stepping into the back of a dark car that had pulled up alongside the crowd. 

@kzine01: ‘in my opinion the police should just let these types of degenerates k*** each other and the rest of the world can get on with life…’

@minhoooo: ‘@kzine01 won’t he be at the reunion?’

@kzine01: ‘@minhoooo i thought it was for graduated students only ㅋㅋㅋ’

You quickly locked your phone and let out a sigh. How could that be the same person you had spent most of your school-aged years sharing classrooms with? You recalled him sleeping peacefully through your shared classes and in your mind, he was harmless. He was a troublemaker, sure, but you never expected him to become a violent person- despite what others had said. 

- - - 

As it turned out, the reunion was not only for graduated students. About two hours into the event, you were catching up with one of the teachers when they muttered under their breath, eyes glued to the door. The room erupted into a chorus of whispers and from the corner of your eye, you saw a pair enter, sauntering into the venue with hands in their pockets. 

“I didn’t expect to see those two” you heard your former teachers whisper to each other. You followed the gaze of their eyes to find two daunting figures consuming everyone’s attention. They nodded as they passed your former classmates, making their way to greet the former gym teacher on the other side of the room.   

It was Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon, of course. 

None other than a criminal and your first and only ex-boyfriend, entering the hall together. Your eyes fell back to the empty glass in your hand and suddenly excused yourself from the conversation. You didn’t know what overcame you, but you headed directly to the bar. You didn’t normally drink, especially straight spirits, however as the atmosphere of the event began to change, you needed something to steel your nerves. 

“Whisky, please.” you spoke to the bartender, who nodded and went to pour you a fresh glass. You tapped the bar mindlessly, pretending to be busy by scrolling through your phone. The younger bartender set the glass down in front of you with a smile before slipping away to serve someone else. Standing there, you felt a set of eyes linger on you as a new wave of anxiety began to swell. 

“Y/n,” you heard a deep voice call out for you. You instantly recognised Namjoon’s voice. “Oh wow, I could barely tell it was you.” he chuckled to himself.

You nodded at him politely as you turned on your heel to face him. “Ah, Namjoon. You’ve gotten even taller.”.

Looking at him, you were overcome by how grown up he looked. His face was defined with a sharp jaw and a sharpness to his eyes that you never noticed when you were in school. 

“Tends to happen,” his features softened as he laughed. “What have you got there?” he gestured to the glass in your trembling hand, too kind to point out how nervous you seemed to be.

You raised the glass slightly, taking a moment to register its alluring colour. “The menu said a fine, single-malt whisky.” you took a sip, hoping that the liquor would have an immediate effect. 

“You always had good taste.” he smiled, raising his eyebrow slightly at you. “I didn’t take you for a drinker, though.”. 

Before you could come up with a response, Namjoon had taken a step towards you. His hand rested on the small of your back as he called out to the bartender for the same drink. Behind him, Yoongi stood watching as your face became flushed. Your eyes met for a moment as he cocked his eyebrow at you, a lazy grin spreading across his plush lips. 

You cast your gaze down to the floor, attempting to control your composure. You had dated Namjoon for about three months in your final year of high school. You had asked him not to tell anyone and he had complied, despite not understanding your reasoning. When you broke it off, it was as if nothing had ever happened. He still smiled at you in the hall, slipped snacks in your bag when you weren’t looking, he even helped you with your work whenever you were struggling. 

So, you didn’t know why you felt so overwhelmed by the feeling of Namjoon’s palm on your back. You’d felt far more intimate gestures from others before, but the longer his palm lingered, the more your chest began to tighten. The cold absence of his touch lingered as soon as he withdrew his hand. As Namjoon began to ask about the not-so-recent developments in your life, you noticed Yoongi make his way to the bar, taking a seat as the bartender poured him his drink.

“Oh, I’m not sure if you ever met…” he glanced over to Yoongi who was sitting comfortably behind you on a stool. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching you, sending a shiver down your spine as you recalled the video from the bar fight. 

“I don’t believe so.” Yoongi replied, maintaining eye contact as you tried to calm yourself down. You wanted to correct him. Although you never exchanged words, you had met. The memory was crystal clear to you but his confidence made you question yourself, so you stayed quiet. You’re school year was huge, if the giant venue was anything to judge by. It was possible he never took note of you, but you were still taken aback.

“Y/n, this is Min Yoongi-” Namjoon began, “Yoongi, this is my friend y/n.”.

In tandem, Yoongi and yourself raised an eyebrow at the word choice. You couldn’t have spoken to Namjoon more than twice in the last ten years. The first time was a drunk dial you received one year after graduation, the last was when you bumped into him at a club you’d been invited to for a ‘date’. ‘Friend’ was a strange word to pick, but you figured it was intentional by the way Namjoon eyed Yoongi as he spoke. 

“A pleasure,” Yoongi spoke, insincerely, you assumed. You smiled in return, before glancing up to Namjoon for comfort. Old habits die hard, you thought. 

Eventually, Namjoon was whisked away by another group that he happily obliged to entertain. You made your way back to a table, sitting with some girls you had elective classes with as they chatted amongst themselves. You had achieved what you wanted to achieve, spoken with all your favourite teachers and you were debating calling it a night when you felt the chair next to you be pulled out from under the table. 

“Do you mind?”

You cast your eyes up to the tall figure, an intimidating presence that had caused the girls you were with to go silent. “Feel free.” you replied to Yoongi with a curt smile. 

He sat down with a gruff sigh, as if he was a dad who had been dragged out to supervise their child at a birthday party. 

“How do you know Namjoon?” you asked quietly, too eager to break the growing silence. Yoongi tilted his head, as if he was weighing up his options for a response. After a brief moment, his sharp, feline eyes met your own. 

“Well, we went to school together.” he began. You nodded, feeling stupid for asking. “I’m more of a family friend, though.” 

You nodded a bit too enthusiastically, to which Yoongi caught on quickly. The corner of his lips began to quirk up at your agreeableness. He tended to have that effect on people. 

“Which is why I was so surprised to find out he had a ‘friend’ that I hadn’t met.” he continued, leaning in closer as he set his glass down on the table.

“We have met.” you corrected him before you could stop yourself. He smiled into his glass before taking a slow slip. He’s trying to remember, you thought. The girls next to you cleared their throat, clearly becoming uncomfortable. No doubt, they had seen the video. 

“I’d like to think I’d remember meeting you.” he spoke quietly, almost in a whisper as he leaned even closer. You suppressed a shiver that crept down your body as his knee knocked into yours. It was difficult to imagine the man in front of you kicking someone within an inch of their life. You wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes. The contrast of his soft-spoken nature and the brutality you knew he was capable of terrified you. Excited you. 

“Well, we went to school together.” you echoed him, eyes glued to the half-empty glass of whisky that sat before you. The sound of his soft laughter made you snap your eyes back onto him. A beautiful laugh to match his face; joy bubbled up in your stomach at the sight. “So, what do you do for work?” you asked tentatively, trying to wipe the smile off your face.

“I work with Joon.” he replied as his laughter trailed off. It occurred to you that you didn’t know what Namjoon did for work either. You had assumed he would inherit his father's oil company, but neither of them seemed to present themselves as rich oil tycoons.  

Before you could press further, three glasses of champagne were set down on your table in an impressive manoeuvre by Namjoon. Yoongi pulled out a seat for his friend, for which Namjoon quietly thanked him for. It was an odd dynamic, to say the least. You tried to recall a time where the two had ever interacted at school, but you were drawing a blank. It sent your mind reeling. 

Family friends? Business partners? Partners? 

“I’m surprised you wanted to come, Yoongi,” Namjoon spoke casually, passing out the flutes as he did.

“Couldn’t pass up a chance to see how pathetic some of these people had become.” Yoongi replied, his eyes landing on Kim Jihun, the pig. 

You scoffed, hardly able to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. It seemed like Yoongi wasn’t the type to let grudges go, whatever they may be. Yoongi’s eyes snapped to you with a suspicious glare. 

The girls next to you excused themselves, leaving you alone with the two people a sane person would want to explicitly avoid. You nearly excused yourself too, except the whisky had started to do its job, sending a comforting warmth through your veins. You watched carefully as Namjoon and Yoongi bickered, scolding each other like brothers. 

A sharp screech of feedback stole your attention as your senior year’s student body president tapped the microphone. “If everyone could please give their attention to the screen, we have prepared a slide show of some of the Class of 19XX’s greatest moments,” he spoke as a projector screen behind him became illuminated with an EPSON logo. 

You caught Yoongi rolling his eyes, letting out another disgruntled sigh as he crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. You didn’t realise how close he had managed to get to you until he moved. 

You watched intently as familiar, young faces popped up on the screen. Laughter and shouting erupted in the room as the projector filed through the photos. Spirit Day, Sports Festival Day, the swimming carnival- they were all presented through grainy, faded photos. You smiled remembering finding an extra bottle of water or juice box in your bag as you sat in the shade on days like those. 

Namjoon reached over the table and tapped you, pointing at the screen. A photo of the two of you from when you were in the Audio Visual club together. Only for a moment, you noticed Yoongi just slightly out of the frame, hunched over a table, dozing off. Small and harmless. 

“I remember that, you only took AV with me because of the field trip- and it ended up getting cancelled anyway.” Namjoon laughed as the photos continued to flip through. You remembered that too, however, you hadn’t remembered Yoongi being a part of the club at all. As pictures of Kim Jihun illuminated the screen, you heard Yoongi snicker under his breath. Namjoon shot him a glare and gave him a kick under the table.

After the slide show, you had more than enough of your fill of nostalgia and were preparing to leave, deciding to stop by the bathroom before you called yourself a taxi. The music was blaring inside the venue, and you took a moment in the hallway to sober yourself up. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. I leave you in charge for one fucking night and now I’m getting messages saying two of the girls are passed out. What the fuck did you do?” 

You peaked around the hallway corner, holding your breath. Yoongi was spitting over the phone with his back to you. Likely not a phone call he’d want to be overheard. 

“I don’t fucking care who insisted on what, they’re not supposed to be drinking on the clock. You need me to drill it into your thick skull? You want to end up back on the street where I found you?” 

“I’m gonna have to tell Joon about this.” he paused. “You think you’ll survive that? Huh?”

You began to back yourself behind the corner, but the clicking of your heels had Yoongi turning to meet your scared eyes within a second. You could hear his footsteps approaching as you tried to compose yourself. 

“Get Hoseok to take them home and fix it, I have to go.” he ended the call quickly, placing the phone into the pocket of his pants. He rounded the corner, your eyes finally meeting as your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Sorry-” you began, backing up until you felt a doorframe press against your back. 

“Aren’t you sneaky?” Yoongi questioned, taking a slow step towards you. He paused for a moment, eyes scanning the scared expression on your face. You watched as something clicked in his mind.

“You know, I remember you now.” he continued as he took another step. “Do you have a habit of catching people red-handed?” You didn’t say anything then, and you wouldn’t say anything now. "You had the same terrified expression back then, too.".

“I think I know why Namjoon wanted me to know you were his friend now.” he was only inches away as he extended his hand to collect a lock of your hair between his fingers. His chest was almost pressed up against yours. You could barely breathe, but the smell of cigarettes and cologne still filled your nostrils. The back of his hand brushed against your cheek, causing a knot to coil in your throat. 

He tilted his head, his lips nearly making contact with your neck as his hand fell from your face. “Namjoon doesn’t like when I touch his things.” he said somberly. 

“I’m not his thing.” you replied, unable to stop your voice from faltering as your heart pounded. Yoongi grinned at your defiance, a cruel, terrifying smile. He looked you up and down sending another shiver down your spine. “Oh, you’re not? Strange, you’re just his type.” he replied, amused. “I guess we’ll see.”

Your mind was reeling. Was he going to hurt you for overhearing his phone call? You could barely process your thoughts when he suddenly took a step back, allowing you space to breathe. 

“Heading home?” he asked, an innocent, placid expression suddenly marking his features. You nodded slowly and silently, still confused and slightly tipsy as he gently slipped his hand behind your back and guided you out of the dim hallway. This man was giving you whiplash. As you made your way back to the table, Namjoon’s eyes flickered to Yoongi’s subtle hold on your waist with a strained look in his eye. 

“We’re both heading out.” Yoongi spoke, his face hidden from you. Namjoon’s eyebrow arched in surprise as he took another slow sip from his drink. “Together?” he asked after swallowing hard, you could see the gears ticking over in his mind. You began shaking your head, raising your hand to clarify, to dismiss the implication. “See, what did I tell you?” Yoongi whispered to you, his plush lips brushing the shell of your ear. You were stunned at the contact. You tried your best to ignore the flame that was set alight between your thighs, the heat spreading through your body. Was this some sort of game between them? If so, you wanted no part of it. As if he could hear your thoughts, Yoongi’s arm fell from your side. Until you saw Namjoon’s worried face, you hadn’t realised that you were swaying on the spot, and without Yoongi’s support, your lightweight alcohol tolerance was on full display.

“Did you drive?” Namjoon asked you, concern lacing his tone. 

“No, I was going to call a taxi…” you mumbled, trying to settle yourself. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances as the taller one stood from his seat. “My driver’s outside, I can drop you home.” he said as he gathered his things, before pausing to look at his friend. “Is Hoseok outside?” he asked. The name felt familiar somehow, but you couldn’t place it. 

“He had to go.” Yoongi answered cryptically. You glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but it was stone-cold. Namjoon responded with a nod. “I guess I’m looking after both of you tonight, then.” he sighed. 

“Hoseok…” you mumbled under your breath, the memory behind the name on the tip of your tongue.

Yoongi stared at you in confusion but before he could question it, Namjoon stepped in between you and began guiding you out of the hall, curtly nodding to his former classmates and teachers as the three of you left. “This should be fun,” he whispered to you. You noticed the hoards eyes that followed you, or more specifically, Yoongi and Namjoon, as you left. “They were going to whisper anyway.” he sighed to himself as the table you were sitting with earlier looked on. 

“You’d think they never left high school.” Yoongi added, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. 

You registered Namjoon’s firm grasp on your arm as the cold night-time air greeted you. His hold on you was tight, almost painful. “Watch your step,” Namjoon instructed as he led you down the stairs and to a familiar dark car waiting outside the lot. You didn’t bother trying to fight his grip, lest you start swaying again.

Despite that, the fresh air was a welcome and sobering feeling. It was quiet outside the venue, everybody else seemed to be inside. You tried to enjoy the moment, and you did until you inhaled a breath of Yoongi’s second-hand smoke. You glanced over at him as he stood, lit cigarette held delicately between his fingers. In the moonlight, he appeared to shine, his skin so pale and radiant that it stood out amidst the darkness surrounding all of you. “Is he coming with us?” you quietly asked Namjoon. Yoongi’s eyes flickered over to you, evidently, you hadn’t spoken quietly enough. 

Namjoon looked down to examine your face and was met with concern. “He’s harmless.” he tried to assure you, but you weren’t even remotely convinced. You’d been witness to his violence, after all. Yoongi rolled his eyes, taking another deep drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and putting it out with the heel of his shoe. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Yoongi added as he smothered the smoke. 

“Tell the driver your address.” Namjoon instructed when you reached the parked car, opening the door for you as you slipped into the back seat. You quietly spoke to the driver, who inputted your address without any questions asked. He didn’t even seem phased that a stranger had just gotten into the back of his car. The interior was fresh, almost brand new. 

He waited for Namjoon to slip into the passenger seat and greeted him with a curt nod. Yoongi slid into the seat next to you, followed by the scent of freshly sprayed cologne. At least he was considerate, you thought. He shut the door behind him and immediately rested his head on the window as if he had been forcing himself to stay awake this whole time. 

“He hasn’t changed much,” you noted, unintentionally speaking your thought out loud. Namjoon smiled at you in the rear-view mirror as the car pulled into the street. Truthfully, it was a long drive ahead. The navigation estimated a 50-minute drive, which Namjoon didn’t seem to mind at all. He insisted on asking you questions about your life, your work, your mother, and anything that had happened in the last 10 years that he wasn’t privy to. It began to feel like an interrogation, and you realised how quickly at ease Namjoon had managed to make you feel despite the precarious situation. Each of your answers was met with interest, a soft smile and a natural follow-up question. As you grew weary, a comfortable silence fell in the car. 

“I’m sorry for having you drive so far out, I forgot how far the city has stretched over the last few years…” you mumbled your apology as you fought the urge to drift off. 

“It’s not a problem. Always nice to catch up with old friends, right Yoongi?” Namjoon responded. 

“Mhmm.” Yoongi replied, who to your surprise, was still awake.

As the car stopped at a red light, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes, tired from the drinking, the festivities and Namjoon’s rigorous questioning. Your dreariness was encouraged by the smooth driving through the dark streets. 

It’s so quiet,

I’ll just close my eyes for a moment,

I’ll be home soon…

- - -

Curious, dark eyes peered over you as you were roused from your sleep with a gentle shake. Your heart beat hard as you registered the face across from you, staring like a hungry cat at a mouse. A gust of cold wind hit your side as your eyes fixed on Yoongi, who was watching intently with his head resting against the window as you stirred. The stretched hand over your shoulder gave you a gentle squeeze on your other side as you snapped your neck around to see who was touching you. “Good morning,” Namjoon grinned, smile transforming his eyes into crescents. 

As you woke up, you realised you were thankfully still sat in the back seat of Namjoon’s car and behind him stood your apartment complex. “Oh,” you gasped, suddenly embarrassed that you’d let your defences down so easily. “We’re here. Sorry.” you mumbled as you hastily tried to unbuckle yourself. 

“I didn’t realise we were such boring company,” Yoongi yawned, settling back into his position against the window with a coy smile. 

You felt guilt pang in your chest, looking back up to Namjoon to apologise. “He’s joking.” he clarified before you could speak. “And, he’s also a dick.” 

You suppressed a giggle to avoid getting another ‘if-looks-could-kill’ glare from Yoongi and slid out of the car. Being so close to Namjoon, you realised that even in your heels, you were still just below his shoulder height. He was always tall, but it was then that you realise how much he had really grown.

“You want me to walk you up?” Namjoon offered with a polite smile. You raised your hands to refuse, dismissing him as kindly as you could in your half-awake state. “I’m fine but, thank you for taking me home.” 

Namjoon seemed slightly disgruntled but accepted your refusal with a smile, as always. “I’d love to catch up again though,” you babbled, unable to cope with the hurt that flickered across his eyes despite not really owing him anything.

“Me too,” he beamed, his mood suddenly changing. “give me your phone.” Complying, you handed over your phone as he typed in his number and let it ring, ending the call when the screen of his phone lit up in his pocket with a buzz. 

Before saying goodbye, you glanced over to Yoongi who was back to fake-sleeping, or meditating, whatever it was. “I’ll see you soon then.” you spoke to Namjoon when your eyes met again. 

“Definitely,” he replied, his eyes fixed on your own intently. It felt all too familiar. Too intimate. It scared you.

Suddenly, you ducked to lean into the car. “Goodnight Yoongi.” you crouched to meet his level in the car and waved, hoping to break the tension that Namjoon had incidentally built. 

Namjoon understood your reaction, though you hadn’t particularly helped by bending down to his waist level while being so close, he thought as he looked down at you. 

“Mhmm,” Yoongi replied, his arms crossed and eyes closed as he slumped against the window.

You quickly stood up, turning on your heel to enter your complex when Namjoon called your name. You glanced over your shoulder to see him smiling, his hands nested in his jacket pockets. “Sleep well,” he called out as he ducked his head to slip into the back seat of the car. 

Your heart was beating so fast that you doubted you’d sleep at all. 

- - -

“She’s gone, you can stop pretending to sleep.” Namjoon sighed as he slipped into the back of the car. 

Yoongi sat up, stretching his back in the process. Usually, he was fine sitting still for upwards of an hour, but his bones had started to ache about twenty minutes in due to the uncomfortable ‘lean against the door’ approach he’d taken. 

“She seemed a bit terrified of me, Joon.” Yoongi replied, twisting his core as the car began to speed off. “Can’t blame her.” Namjoon replied, opening his phone to save your number to his contacts. 

“Guess she doesn’t know you very well.” Yoongi teased, rubbing his temple as the streetlights flew by. “Otherwise she’d be more scared of you.”

Namjoon stifled a laugh, staring at your name in his contacts. “I’m harmless,” he replied, tucking his phone back in his pocket. 

“Yeah, yeah. You say that, but I haven’t told you about the call I got tonight.” Yoongi replied, his face becoming serious. Namjoon raised his brow and steeled himself. He had truly enjoyed the night, but business was business and it waited for no one. His older friend didn’t allow a good mood to get in the way either. 

“Two girls of the girls were found passed out at the club.” he paused, “They wouldn’t wake up. I sent Hoseok to go pick them up.” 

Namjoon fell silent, playing the words over in his head. He was relieved that they were in Hoseok’s care, but it was still unnerving. Just a week after Yoongi had straightened out a regular, some sleazebag who put his hands where they didn’t belong, two girls end up unresponsive. 

“Which club?” he eventually replied.

“Chateau.” 

Namjoon tapped his driver’s seat. “You hear that?” 

The driver nodded, immediately switching course back into the city, back to the Chateau. 

“You think it’s retaliatory?” Yoongi questioned, his eyes trained on the road ahead. He had already made his mind up about the incident and wasn’t going to hesitate to point fingers. 

“If it is, we’re about to find out.” Namjoon sighed, laying his head against the headrest behind him. 

The truth was, neither of them were harmless. Neither hesitated to inflict pain on people who couldn’t do their job properly, who threatened their business, their things. Luckily, you never had to know about that. From the moment Namjoon laid his eyes on you, in his mind, you were his. 

Though, he didn’t know that Yoongi already had plans of his own when it came to you. 

 - end of chapter one - 

thank you for reading! it’s been a while since i’ve put anything out, but the haegeum mv definitely stirred up some inspiration in me. please let me know your thoughts on this chapter & series concept!

[keehomania]

BONES & ALL (본즈 앤 올) (DRABBLE)

✧.* 16+

it was raw. not in the way you snacked on maraschino cherries under the sunlight in rome, not in the way the sweetness lingered on your tongue, dripping with a saccharine aftertaste that reminded you of summer. no, this was different—primal, almost. it was a love that bared its teeth, stripped of pretense, of pleasantries, and of the gentle touches that polite society deemed proper. it demanded everything and gave in return, not in delicate whispers or soft kisses, but in the pounding of your heart that seemed to echo in your very bones.

it wasn’t just the physical that made this love different. it was the connection that ran deeper than words, deeper than thought. in the silence, when the world around you fell away, you could feel—every hope, every fear, every dark corner of his soul he had kept hidden from the rest of the world. and you knew, in that silence, that you were the only one who could ever truly understand him. it was a love that was terrifying in its intensity, but you welcomed it. you welcomed the way it tore through you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, because it also made you feel more alive than you had ever been. you wanted to bask in it, to let it consume you until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled together in a world of your own making. this love was not pretty; it was not sweet or delicate. it was raw.

“i can’t do it,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. the tears had come without warning, slipping down your cheeks as if they’d been waiting for this very moment, mingling with the metallic scent of blood that hung in the air, thick and intoxicating. it wasn’t a stench—not to you, not now. it was a need, a desperate, consuming need that gnawed at the edges of your sanity, twisting your insides with a sickening blend of hunger and revulsion.

you hated yourself for it. hated the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips, seeking out that taste you shouldn’t crave, that bitter tang that made your head swim and your heart race. but it was there, undeniable, just as yoongi was there, his presence overwhelming, consuming. he was smiling, though it was a fragile thing, a ghost of the smirks you’d come to know so well. his eyes, however, betrayed him—heavy with sorrow, thick with tears that he refused to let fall, not now, not when he knew the end was upon him.

the angel of death had come for him, ready to collect the debt yoongi had long known he owed. and yet, as his hands—cold as death itself, as if they’d been left in the freezer to chill—came up to cradle your face, he looked at you with such tenderness, such raw, unfiltered love, that you almost believed he could still be saved. his fingers trembled slightly, brushing over your skin with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his final moments, smearing his blood across your cheeks in a macabre caress. it was a final gesture, one that held a dark, twisted irony, a taunt almost. he wanted to feel you, to mark you, to leave a piece of himself on you even as his life slipped away. more so, he wanted you to give in.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and it struck you just how beautiful he was in this moment. he had never looked better, never seemed more alive, more vulnerable. more raw. his blood, his very essence, painted across your skin—he was both the artist and the masterpiece, and you were the canvas upon which he’d chosen to leave his final mark. the thought made your heart clench, your stomach twist in knots of guilt and desire.

“you have to,” he whispered, his voice a strained rasp, the words heavy with an unspoken plea. his breath was ragged, his strength waning, yet he used the last of it to press his forehead against yours. his eyes searched yours, seeking something—maybe reassurance, maybe a promise, maybe just the comfort of knowing that you were still there, with him, even as everything else slipped away. his scent, that familiar, intoxicating scent, filled your senses, clouding your mind until all you could focus on was him—his blood, his skin, his very presence that clung to you like a second skin.

you gritted your teeth, sobbing uncontrollably, the sound raw and guttural, torn from the depths of your soul. you wanted to focus on his touch, the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his breath ghosted over your lips, but all you could think about was his scent—how it enveloped you, how it lingered in the air like a dark, forbidden perfume.

“you have to do it,” he said again, his voice cracking, betraying the emotion he’d tried so hard to keep at bay. his eyes bore into yours, pleading, desperate. “bones and all.”

it wasn’t a command—it was a wish, a dying wish that hung in the air between you like a weight too heavy to bear. he wanted you to take him, to consume him in every way possible, to make him a part of you even in death. he could go, he could let himself slip away into the darkness, knowing that the last thing he’d given you was all of him—every broken, bleeding piece.

you had him—had him this whole time, but it wasn’t enough. he wanted you to go all the way, to take him in, bones and all, until there was nothing left but the memory of him that would haunt you forever. even in death, he wanted to be yours, to be the reason your stomach churned, the reason your tears fell, the reason you felt sick to your stomach with the taste of him on your tongue, the reason you cried out in agony as you tasted the last remnants of him on your lips. being in your heart wasn’t enough, loving you wasn’t enough. you would become one.

he wouldn't fight it, no matter how much it had hurt. he wouldn't fight the way his skin tore, his wound already ran deep enough. it could run even deeper if it was for you, he knew you too well. he knew you would give in, especially for him. he would tell you tear him apart, he would let you do anything. he made you hungry. if you took his finger, he would give you his arm. to love is to consume, every bit of it. his bones would crunch under the weight of your love. it was raw. it was love. how he loved it when you held his hands with your teeth, stripping every layer of the body that was now yours. how he loved it when you kissed his teeth, instead of his lips. there would be no leftovers, nothing to be thrown out. he was yours, in every sense. his lips had always been sweet, you thought. even as they bled crimson, every drop tasted like honey on your tongue.

no matter how gently you opened him, the blood would still taint your flesh, your heart, your soul. his heart had stopped beating long ago, but it didn't matter. it didn’t need to beat to love you, to belong to you. it needed to be consumed. he was tough—tougher than you’d ever imagined, tougher than you’d ever wanted to know. the feeling of him in your mouth only confirmed the thought—he was tough. he was tougher on the outside than the inside. and yet, even now, you didn’t want to hurt him. you never had. but how could he hurt? how could he feel anything but peace, knowing that he was yours, that you had him, bones and all?

✧.*

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 2

Series

In the Margins (a s f) by @bonvoyagenoona ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.

Fix You (f a) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

desolate (a f s) by @angelicyoongie ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) by @yoonpobs ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) by @gukslut ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) by @bxebxee ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

sweetner (f s) by @taegularities ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) by @out-of-jams ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) by @taetaesbaebaepsae ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) by @oddinary4bts ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) by @jiminrings ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) by @bluemari23 ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) by @lo1k-diamonds ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) by @strawberrynamjoon ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) by @untaemedqueen ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

Illicit Favors (f s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) by @minisugakoobies ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) by @aquagustd ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

[taintedjeon]

‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

✞ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alternative!yoongi x reader ✞ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k ✞ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: yoongi has tongue pierings, bigdick!yoongi, dirty talk, raw sex, riding, nipple play, nipple biting, minor hair tugging, size kink, using a polaroid during sex, mention of dacryphilia to open

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.

series masterlist | main masterlist

“Don’t hide your pretty noises. I want you to cry for me.” Yoongi emphasises his requests as he speeds up his pace. His lips bathing your shoulder in kisses as he makes his way up to the sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver under his touch.

His name leaves your lips in a sinful prayer for the man in between your thighs. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, all you’re able to do is feel him filling you to the brim with all of him as tears wet your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you hear Yoongi muttering into your chest as you move yourself up and down, impaling yourself on his cock, “treating me well, ni—ah, fuck baby!”

Yoongi’s head is thrown back against the plush grey headrest of the couch, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he grunts in pleasure. One of his hands rest on your hips, the warmth of his palm and the coldness of his rings decorating his lithe fingers causes shivers to run over your body.

He is incredible. Insatiable even. Yoongi knows your body better than you know it yourself. He knows just how to fuck you right, every single time.

With your body shaking and eyes screwed shut tight in arousal, you miss Yoongi reaching out beside him. A click, accompanied by a quick bright flash takes you by surprise, causing your eyes to flutter open.

Halting your movements, you peer down at Yoongi who is staring straight into your eyes — blackened, blown out and filled with lust. You clench your pussy around his cock and smile at the polaroid in his hands.

“Want to remember this moment.”

“Well let me help you,” you tell him as you grab at his hand and place it on your tits, guiding him to palm you. Yoongi is more than happy to indulge you and plays with your nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at the bud, watching it harden under his touch. You lace your fingers with his and then watch as he snaps a new image of him groping you.

One of your hands comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers gripping into his long strands of raven hair and giving them a soft tug in that way he loves. You lean down and kiss Yoongi with a surge of urgency. It’s wet and messy as your tongues tangle and lips smack against each other. His dual tongue bars give the kiss an added edge as he usages it to his advantage to lick against your lower lip before pulling at the skin in between his teeth. From below, you feel Yoongi lift his hips causing the tip of his cock to press deeper inside of you. A strangled moan slips past your kiss bitten lips at the welcomed pleasure.

Yoongi is thick and heavy inside of you, stretching you loose in ways no man ever has done before. Sex with Yoongi is always exciting and with added kinks to explore with each other, he always leaves you wanting more every time.

“How’s my angel doing?” He whispers as he plays about with the settings on the camera before pointing the lens back in your direction.

“G-good, want to keep going—fuck!” You curse at the end as he moves his hips again and snaps another image of you as your face contorts in unadulterated pleasure.

“G’on, move for me princess, show me how cock drunk you get for me, yeah.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slid your hands across his chest, tracing the lines of the dragon tattoo that spans across his well built upper body. Through lustful eyes, you watch as Yoongi bites his lip at your touch and you keen, knowing that you’re the one to bring Min Yoongi down to this state with you.

Lifting your hips, you glide your cunt from his base to the tip, managing to feel every vein that wraps around his pretty length.

“Fuck, wait stay there. Let me get a picture of this, holy shit…” Yoongi proclaims and takes the third picture on the polaroid. “Don’t move. Keep yourself hugging my tip, fuck you gotta see how wet you got my cock princess.”

You do as you’re told and you keep your body positioned above him, cockhead nuzzled snuggly in your small hole as you await the polaroid to print the film.

Minutes pass and it doesn’t take long for your legs to start trembling from your muscles being stagnant in this position for a little longer than you’re used to.

“Yoongi, I wanna fuck!” Your protest comes out whiny as you fight the urge to drop yourself down to begin fucking him again.

The sound of the polaroid printing is heard between the both of you and you watch as Yoongi reaches for the film, shaking it in the air for a few seconds before looking at it.

He groans, and you feel arousal build up and leak onto Yoongi’s cock. The sounds that Yoongi creates, every moan, every rumble of his chest pushes you to keep still.

Next thing, Yoongi is twisting the picture around for you to see with your own eyes and what a sight it was. His length looks swollen with use, hard and stunningly decorated in those pretty veins you enjoy giving attention when he allows you. His length glistens under the flash of the camera from the juices he has spilled from your pussy and now it’s your turn to moan.

“Can you see too? The way I barely fit inside you…” he trails off. “Look at you struggling to take my fat cock in your tight cunt, I’ve never seen anything so fucking stunning. This is art.”

Warmth spreads around your body at his words as you look at the image as he speaks to you with so much filth. You flutter around him, utterly brain dead from Yoongi’s cock.

You’re not given enough time to think before Yoongi rocks his hips up, stroking your walls beautifully as he pulls you down to bury himself back in the hilt of his home which is your pussy. Tears gather in your eyes, giving them a sparkle that Yoongi loves to coax from you as he throws the camera back to the side in order for him to guide you up and down his throbbing dick.

The burn in your thighs is present and makes itself apparent as you continue to work your muscles into overdrive as you ride Yoongi like your life depended on it. Yoongi wraps both his hands around your back, palms resting against your clammy skin as he whispers filthy praises and prays of you into your skin, absolutely lost in the lust that is you and your tiny cunt.

You scratch at his chest, digging your nails through the dragon tattoo, breaking the skin and knowing that there will be a trail of red desire marked into his skin for the evening.

“You’re so big!” You hiccup, feeling Yoongi increase the speed of his hips into you, his ego swelling at your words.

“Ah, your pussy is leaking all over me, making such a mess of me angel.” Yoongi punctuates his words with a firm buck into your cunt, Yoongi highlights the loud squelching sounds of your ministrations.

One of his hands finds your wrist and brings it up to his mouth where he places kiss after kiss on each knuckle. He guides your hand further down until it finds the column of his throat and you rest there.

“G’on princess, choke me a little,” Yoongi grunts through gritted teeth and so you do as you’re told, applying a light amount of pressure around Yoongi’s throat. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens in pleasure, his tongue coming out to lick at the corner of his lips. The glint of his tongue ring makes you whine. Your body manages to fight through the overstimulation of his cock fucking into you over and over again as you take over as much as Yoongi is allowing you.

Now, you’re using each other and it’s never felt so fucking pleasurable. You eye the polaroids that Yoongi had taken early scattered around the sofa around his body and you smirk as the tears are rolling down your cheeks in small rivulets. You are both drowning each other in sex so intense, the pleasure borders on almost painful.

With each drop off your hips, you feel him deep in your stomach. Your body burns in overexertion but you don’t stop until you’ve both reached your ends.

“I’m taking you so well, Yoongi, can you feel me!?” You swivel your hips as you ask.

“Nobody got a pussy like yours… best pussy I’ve ever fucked, princess, swear.” Yoongi rasps through your hold on his throat. At his words, you squeeze your fingers just a little tighter around his throat.

“You gonna come, angel?”

You nod at him. “I’m so close, please. Please, I need to!” You beg him to let you finally reach your climax, your hips working faster.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” you could hear that his voice is straining as his hips become sloppier in their movements. Your spare hand reaches for the headrest of the sofa behind him.

“Fuck, yes, keep going, keep going, I’m gonna fill you to the fucking brim, gonna watch you bloat with my cum,” Yoongi is loud, not afraid who around you both hears his promise to you. 

The living room fills with moans and skin slapping against skin as the pair of you use each other to reach your climaxes. Finally, yoongi leans forward and takes a nipple in between his teeth and runs both his tongue bars over the hardened bud back and forth. Yoongi bites down hard and in return, your pussy vices him in and your hands release from his neck. All at once, Yoongi’s breath hitches as the air returns to his burning lungs and comes inside of you, filling you with his hot sticky white seed as he paints your body with filthy praises.

Soon after, you meet your orgasm shortly behind his own. Your body stills as you tremble above him as your body releases your arousal all over Yoongi, making a mess of him and probably the couch underneath.

He is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you as your body twitches through your orgasm. Yoongi can’t help but give tiny shallow thrusts to help aid you through it.

You both bask in the glow of intense sex as you both collapse onto each other. Yoongi is the first to move as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up off of his softening cock. The feeling of him moving through your sensitive cunt causes you to hiss but you pout when he has fully removed himself.

After catching his breath, Yoongi guides you to lie down on the sofa as he reaches once more for the polaroid.

“Yoongi, what’re you—,” you’re cut off with the familiar click of the camera and bright flash momentarily brightening up the living room before bathing it back in it’s natural darkness.

“I can’t fuck you that well and not get the money shot, can I?” You hear the smirk in his voice. You feel a hand wrap around your ankle and then your legs are being pried apart slowly. “C’mon, let me see how messy you are for me, yeah?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh as you indulge Yoongi in his request, giving him the opportunity to get the device up close and personal to your cunt before snapping a new image.

“Yeah, these are definitely going into the wank bank for later.”

© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.

[love4myg]

pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

main masterlist

────

Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

────

Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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