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#myg halloween
kiestrokes · 1 year
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Will Scream for Soju | SFW
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👻 You managed to trick all seven members into the local horror corn maze. It might cost you though, will it be your life or your wallet?
🧟‍♀️ Read it Here
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© COPYRIGHT 2022 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.
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kithtaehyung · 11 months
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u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg
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3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣
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explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩
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“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 
“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 
Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 
“Barbie was great and you know it.” 
“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 
“I got this.” 
Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 
“Yeah, probably.” 
Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 
The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 
“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 
“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 
“So is the jersey?”
“I have two of these.”
“…I will never understand you.”
The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 
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If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 
Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 
It’s magical. 
But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 
Ugh. 
At least he’s carrying everything. 
“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  
“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 
“The lights are so nice, though.” 
“Uh huh.” 
After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 
And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 
“Hey! You made it!” 
Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 
As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 
“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”
“For what?” 
“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 
Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 
When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 
“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.
“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 
“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 
“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 
“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 
His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 
Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 
Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 
“Yoongi! You, too?” 
Huh? Him, too? 
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 
Hot? What could possibly be—
Oh. 
Fucking.
Hell. 
It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 
And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 
You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 
Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 
How the fuck are you supposed to react! 
“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 
Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.
“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 
And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 
“Why?” 
“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 
Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.
But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 
“And you dressed basic for what?” 
Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 
Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 
But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 
“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 
“Won’t help you, doll.” 
Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 
Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 
“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 
Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 
And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 
Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 
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You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 
Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.
And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  
Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 
Shit, you can’t do this. 
If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 
But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 
You [10:02pm]: what🥺 
“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 
“Where’re we going?” 
“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 
From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 
Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 
You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕
Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 
Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 
It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 
So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 
You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 
It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 
Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 
Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 
You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 
You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 
This is bad. 
Why can’t he be super annoying instead—
Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 
Well. 
You [10:10pm]: 😐 
Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 
Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 
“I will once you stop sexting.” 
“We are not!” 
“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 
Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 
“A model.” 
He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 
“Yup.” 
Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 
Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 
Why does he have to say all the right things?
You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 
Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 
You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 
You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 
Wait. 
Have you ever been that bold? 
Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 
Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 
And rude. 
You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛
“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 
The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 
Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 
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Nope. 
Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 
Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.
But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 
“You know what’s up.” 
“Dom!” 
“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 
Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 
“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 
“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 
Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 
“He’s not my—”
Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 
“Is he coming?” 
“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 
Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 
It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 
“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 
What? 
Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.
Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 
But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 
Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 
Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 
Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 
Fuck, what if his hand is better! 
Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 
Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 
But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…
That last card may have just saved your ass.
You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.
“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 
And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 
With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 
Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 
And outside of it. 
While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 
At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 
When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 
After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 
Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 
This is agonizing. 
Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 
Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.
Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 
Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 
Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 
Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 
But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 
He’s not like that anymore. 
But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 
Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 
How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 
Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.
You’d rather be standing together. 
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Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.
Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 
The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 
You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  
“What’s your favorite candy?”
“Chocolate!”
“I like gummi bears.”
Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.
Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”
“Yeah! One sec.”
As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,
“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 
One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 
“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 
Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 
“Yeah!” 
Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 
But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 
“What’s up!”
“Come here real quick!”
When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 
When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 
As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 
Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.
Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 
But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 
The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 
“Meow.” 
Oh. God.
Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 
And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 
“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 
“Yes, huh!” 
“No!” 
“Look! I have ears!” 
“No! You sound like a human!” 
“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 
Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 
Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 
One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 
When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 
But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 
“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 
You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 
But what you do know? 
You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 
“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”
Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”
“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 
There’s one other thing you know for sure. 
Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 
Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.
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Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 
An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 
But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 
Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 
To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.
“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 
Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 
“I am!” 
As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 
“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 
Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 
“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 
“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 
Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 
You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 
Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 
Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 
“When?”
“At Hobi’s?”
“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 
“It does—!” 
Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 
“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 
Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 
If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 
More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 
“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.
Your brother was right yet again. 
There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 
Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 
There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 
Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 
Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 
“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 
“Hey!” 
The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 
Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.
And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.
Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  
And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 
“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 
And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 
Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 
Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 
Still a goddamn menace. 
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 
“I am.” 
“So do something!” 
“Am I holding a basketball?” 
Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 
“Fine.” 
And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 
All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 
“Don’t listen to him.” 
“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 
Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 
“Whose side are you on!” 
“You got something to say?” 
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 
While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 
“No, I’ll make it.” 
He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 
Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 
Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.
“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 
“The haunted house?” 
“Yeah, that.” 
After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 
And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 
While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 
Huh. 
Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 
“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 
Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 
As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...
He’s already walking away. 
And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 
Umm.
What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 
…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?
Motherfucker.
Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 
So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  
But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 
Because he’s watching that dude leave. 
Looking pissed. 
Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—
He’s not—
What is he doing?
He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 
Right?
…This is bold as fuck. 
Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 
“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 
Damn. No subtlety this time?
You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 
But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 
“I should’ve done this sooner.”
“You didn’t know.” 
“Doesn’t matter.”
When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 
Yoongi is actually furious.  
Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 
Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 
They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 
Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  
“Y’all good over there?”
“Yeah.” 
Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 
That’s probably best for everyone involved. 
“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.
And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 
“Okay.” 
No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 
But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 
The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 
Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 
And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.
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The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 
But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 
So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 
Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 
Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 
But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 
Did you feel jealous? Upset? 
To your pleasant surprise, not really. 
Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 
You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 
All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 
A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 
“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”
As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 
So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 
Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 
“You good to go home with your friends?” 
Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 
“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 
“The fuck? On Halloween?” 
He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 
Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 
And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?
Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 
You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 
“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 
“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 
“K.”  
He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 
Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 
Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.
After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 
Maybe you should have left, too. 
Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.
But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 
Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?
Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 
You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..
Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t
Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 
This is it. 
This is why you stayed. 
Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 
Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll
And you will wait forever. 
However long it takes.
You [12:51am]: ok
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It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.
Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 
All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 
But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 
So unfair.
In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 
And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 
Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 
“Come here.” 
“You sure?” 
He hesitates. 
And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 
But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 
What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?
There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.
God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 
But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 
However. 
When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 
“Yoongi…?” 
With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 
Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 
Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 
As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.
And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.
“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”
His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 
“Is that what you want?”
Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”
“Me to suck you dry.”
You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 
His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”
That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.
You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 
“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 
“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”
“Good.” 
You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 
Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.
There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.
And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”
“Yoongi—”
Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 
Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”
“You taste so fucking good.” 
More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”
Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 
“Yoo—”
And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 
For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 
Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.
But you can tell something’s off.
He’s holding back.
Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?
If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.
So what’s with the sudden hesitation?
Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 
“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 
“Please what.” 
“I need you.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 
“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 
Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 
Were they always that loud?
“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 
Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 
Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 
“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 
“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”
“You don’t.”
Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 
Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.
And you’ll let him.
Consequences be damned. 
“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”
Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 
Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.
Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.
“Thought I was boring.”
Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Say sorry then.”
It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”
Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”
Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 
“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”
Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 
All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 
Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”
Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”
“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 
“This wouldn’t get old?” 
“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”
Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”
“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 
He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.
“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 
“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”
“Just make me forget it.”
He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 
And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 
You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.
If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.
But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,
“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 
“Wait, why—”
“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”
Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 
“Yoongi, what—” 
He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 
And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.
You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.
“Baby, you sure?”
“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 
“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 
Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 
“We don’t have to, doll.” 
And if you’re honest… 
The thrill of it is enticing.
“We can.” 
“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 
A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 
“Not telling.” 
Of course. “You suck.” 
Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 
Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 
Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 
And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”
“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 
“No, but—fuck.” 
Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 
“God, you’re so perfect.” 
Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 
“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 
Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 
“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 
Oh. 
You know why he’s holding you so hard. 
And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 
Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 
But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 
“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 
Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 
So you vow to make that reality. 
“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”
Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 
Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 
Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 
His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 
And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 
Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 
Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 
“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 
Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—
A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 
Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 
Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 
But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 
So fucking unfair. 
Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 
Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 
Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 
And you recognize both of them. 
“—like you said, right?” 
“I know, but…” 
It’s Tae. 
And Jimin. 
“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 
The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 
“You really think so?” 
There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 
Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!
When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  
What the fuck is he doing! 
This man is going to be the end of you. 
“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 
“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 
Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 
And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 
Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 
You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 
Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 
And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 
“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 
“Most of it was your idea.” 
“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 
Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 
“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 
“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 
A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 
“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 
“You just sat on it.” 
“I didn’t sit on that side.” 
Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  
“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 
“Yeah, you’re right.” 
Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 
Adrenaline still at its peak. 
“You’re gonna pay for that.” 
“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 
After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 
“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 
“Do you want to?” 
You pause. 
If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 
But if you stay… 
“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”
“Fuck no.” 
Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 
And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 
So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”
“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 
You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 
Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 
A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 
“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 
Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,
“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 
Holy fuck, what? 
“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“We don’t have—”
“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 
What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 
Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 
When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 
“Sure you didn’t.” 
He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 
Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 
“We don’t have to.” 
Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 
But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 
Fuck. 
Do you really go for it? 
You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 
…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 
“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 
His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 
“So fucking wet.” 
Fuck. 
“Gonna take this dick so well.” 
Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 
“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 
Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 
Well, you think he’s on the same page. 
Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 
Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 
“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 
You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 
You feel bad. 
And it feels fantastic. 
“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 
When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 
After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 
When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 
“Mmhmm.”
“Good girl.” 
As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 
Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 
Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—
“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.
“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”
Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 
Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.
“Show me up then.”
He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.
Oh, he’s a killer. 
And he’s all yours.
Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.
Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.
Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.
Which is the worst best thing to do. 
“Fuck, doll.”
With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.
“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 
And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 
You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 
“Breathe in for me.”
And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 
Fuck! 
Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 
“Again.”
When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 
“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,
“So good.” 
“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”
Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”
He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”
You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 
“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.
After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”
You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 
And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 
Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.
Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.
How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 
“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”
He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 
You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 
And definitely other people, too.
But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.
“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”
You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 
And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,
“Then come for me, doll.”
Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.
“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”
And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 
“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”
Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 
“Baby, I’m still—”
“Fuck—”
You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.
“D—”
You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”
“No, but—”
“Take it off.”
Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 
Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 
Because you want this. He’s earned this. 
Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 
This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 
When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 
Yoongi is fighting for his life. 
You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 
And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 
He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.
“Open that mouth.”
You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.
“Goddamn.”
You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.
It looks like he wants to say something. 
But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 
As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 
But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 
As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 
Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 
“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 
His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 
"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 
Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 
And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 
If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.
Even if they frightened you to death. 
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Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 
After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 
With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.
And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.
But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 
When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 
And you dissolve into mush yet again.
Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 
You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  
What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 
Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 
It’s definitely with Yoongi. 
Right now, you know your home is with him. 
Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 
You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 
Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒
Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 
And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 
Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 
He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.
And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.
Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)
Happy Halloween indeed. 
end :)
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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.
++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
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orchidyoonkook · 11 months
Text
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
��Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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kth1fics · 10 days
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I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG
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I Won't Hurt You
● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi
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All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.
It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.
A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.
The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.
Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.
The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.
Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”
The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.
“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”
Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.
You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.
Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.
His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.
Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.
“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”
Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears. 
You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.
“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.
The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply. 
Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.
“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.
His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.
Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!” He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.
“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”
Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips. 
You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”
Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.
You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.
“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.
Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens. 
Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.
You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.
He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.
“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck. 
Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material. 
“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.
“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut. 
“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”
You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.
He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth. 
“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”
You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.
“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”
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© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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colormepurplex2 · 11 months
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Bump In The Night | MYG
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▻ Bump In The Night ↳ Bogeyman!Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Horror/Thriller/Demon, Nyctophobia ⤜ Monster Under The Bed AU | angst, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 12,395 ⤜ Summary: The dark can be scary; full of strange, unseen things. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on your fear, the lights go out, and you face the reality that you were always right—you should fear the dark and especially what’s waiting in it. ⚠️ Crass language, fear, inciting fright, playing on emotions, teasing, kissing, fingering, biting/marking, dom tones, begging, choking, panic, unprotected v. sex, feeding on fear, dark thoughts, revealed dark intentions, predator/prey tones, chasing, claiming, serpentine tongue, oral f.receiving, monster cock/sex, metamorphosis
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Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @minisugakoobies A/N: Sunny, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it. Happy belated birthday and hope you have a pleasant spooky holiday full of Bogeyman Yoongi delight!
A special thank you to @star-my @hisunshiine and @downbad4yoongi for their amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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Beg For It
Nyctophobia [ nik-tuh-foh-bee-uh ] - noun Psychiatry: extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.
One…
Two…
Three…
Breathe. Another few seconds, that’s all you want; just precious moments to prove yourself.
Four…
Five…
Six…
Cold chills slither down your spine despite the hot water beating against your back. Your fingers work vigorously against your cheeks and along your forehead. What feels like a thousand pounds settles along your lashes, even though you know it’s nothing more than marshmallowy-light foam.
Seven…
Eight…
Nin—
You spin around, nearly losing your footing in the shower as you angle your face under the spray from the showerhead. The heels of your palms press against your lids as you try to rid them of the foamy facial cleanser.
Air wheezes into your lungs, stray drops of water sucking between your parted lips as you try to breathe against the panic building in your chest. Jerking back from the spray, you open your eyes, wincing at the sting from the water-mixed-with-cleanser that drips from your lashes and floods the corners.
Nothing. There’s nothing there. All you see is the steam-filled space of your shower, water pelting down at your feet, a smattering of bottles arranged on the lip of the tub, and the inside of your plain shower curtain.
You sigh, irritation itching in your chest. Not even nine seconds. You were trying for at least ten. It never fails to leave a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you can’t seem to get a grip on yourself. It’s just the dark. Hell, it’s not even really the dark. It’s just having your eyes closed against the bright fluorescent lights of your bathroom; a pseudo-darkness.
The unease in your stomach refuses to dissipate as you turn off the shower, step out, wrap yourself in a towel, and go through the routine of brushing your teeth and massaging moisturizer into your skin. You hang up your damp towel, quickly pulling on the oversized t-shirt and shorts you intend to sleep in.
Steam clouds the mirror. You don’t typically care to wipe it away, not anymore. It’s one of your small, personal victories—one you intentionally remind yourself of now after your panicked stint in the shower. It used to be that you couldn’t stand not being able to see the space behind you through the reflective surface. Knowing if something lurked outside your line of sight, it couldn’t hide from being exposed through the mirror. Being able to see behind you was all that mattered. Now, you take pride in not needing to see…yet, the niggling in the back of your head won’t cease. So, you swipe a hand, collecting tiny beads of moisture on your palm as you go.
You’re unsure why the act makes your heart beat a little harder. It’s supposed to elicit the calm you so desperately need. But, once you’ve slashed a clear path across the mirror, your brow furrows as you lean in closer to it. Cold dread thunders through your veins as you jerk back, spinning on your heel to make sure what you saw through the mirror wasn’t just your mind playing a trick on you.
Nope, not a trick or even a figment of your imagination…unfortunately.
You stare in paranoid disbelief at the slender gap along the bottom of the bathroom door. The door that leads into your bedroom where you are absolutely, without a doubt, positive you left your bedside lamp on. The gap is dark, like a void threatening to suck you right into an endless nightmare of unrelenting terror. All that’s missing is a gaunt, skeletal hand sliding its too-long fingers under the door.
Shoving away those intrusive thoughts before they can take root and further fester like a dirty wound on your sanity, you try to think logically. It’s possible the bulb in your lamp could have blown, but you know you replaced it just last month. It’s far too soon for it to blow on its own, and surely, it’s not a faulty bulb. So, why is it out? Were you careless and, in truth, didn’t turn it on? A manic laugh gets caught in your throat as you silently berate yourself. That must be it. You simply forgot. So careless.
Fear is an acrid taste on your tongue as you slowly approach the door. You hate this feeling. Even though you tell yourself there’s nothing out there lurking in the dark to harm you, you simply forgot to leave the light on. The distress doesn’t subside—and it won’t. At least, not until you open the door and prove the dark to harbor no ill intent toward you.
Squaring your shoulders and taking what is supposed to be a calming and fortifying breath, though it feels more like sand slipping into your lungs, you wrap your fingers firmly around the brushed nickel handle. The metal is warm, slightly wet from the condensation formed during your shower, against your palm as you twist it.
You lick your trembling lips, taking one more moment to center yourself. Your eyes slide closed as you mentally recall the layout of your room, calculating how many steps there are to get to the nearest light switch. Your bed is angled so the foot faces the bathroom door, and the closet door to the left near the two windows you know are closed tight with the curtains drawn. The bedroom door is easily the furthest from the bathroom, leaving the overhead light out of the question. You knew, before you even began to analyze, that the bedside lamp you recall yourself leaving on is going to be the closest light source. Still, you needed to go through the motion of solidifying that information in your mind.
As you haltingly push it open, the quiet creak of the door, which sounds deafening in the silence of the bathroom, causes chills to pop up along your arms and the hairs at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Darkness ebbs as the light from the bathroom bleeds across the hardwood of your bedroom floor, slowly revealing the interior of your room.
Your heart lurches, and a scream rips from your chest when you see a dark figure sitting at the end of your bed come into focus as the bathroom door swings further open, the handle barely held in your now numb fingers. Panic barrels through you. Your muscles react instinctively, fingers tightening around the knob as you jerk back, the door closing with a harsh bang as you backpedal across the bathroom.
“Babe,” calls a playful voice from just on the other side of the door. You can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears. Nausea threatens to double you over, even as relief floods your system—such conflicting emotions that you feel suddenly off-kilter. 
There is a fine sheen of cold sweat clinging to your neck. Your hands fist into the front of your shirt as the door eases open to reveal your boyfriend standing at the threshold. His dark ensemble makes it seem like the bathroom's light bends around his form, not daring to touch him.
You’ve never liked it when someone intentionally scares you, claiming it’s a joke. It always seems more like a cruel prank than a laughing matter. Though, you note, no one is laughing right now either way. He doesn’t look smug or self-satisfied for having scared you, just simply mildly amused.
“You scared me, Yoongi,” you state flatly, crossing your arms over your chest, hoping he picks up on your discomfort.
The corners of his lips turn down, and his brow furrows as he gives you an exaggerated pout. Even with your pounding heart and the upside down in your belly, you can’t help but appreciate how cute he is when he does that. “I know. I just didn’t see the point in wasting the power if you weren’t going to be in there.” He gestures vaguely behind him to your room, which is barely lit by the light pouring out of the bathroom.
It’s on the tip of your tongue to remind him that even though you weren’t in there, he was. Though, for some reason, Yoongi sitting in the dark doesn’t strike you as out of place. In the five years you’ve been together, you’ve learned to love his odd quirks just as much as any other part of him. He’s genuine, a caring person who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable—a far cry from anyone else you’ve ever given your time to.
“How was work?” you ask, aiming to get back on track with some semblance of normalcy—anything to not dwell on the lingering discomfort that’s still beating away in your chest.
His shoulders hitch up in a nonchalant manner. “Same as always. There’s been a big break in the Hunt case. Director Park thinks we’ll have the code cracked in a few more days. I say by tomorrow night, tops, just in time for our date. It’ll be a reward for my hard work,” his eyes twinkle with mirth. “After all, I think Samhain is a pretty fitting day for dealing with evil, huh?”
You make a noncommittal sound at that last part. Yoongi might enjoy that thought, but to you, tomorrow is more so just a day…simply October 31st and is more about plastic pumpkins, like the ones you have sitting on your front porch, than dealing with evil like that. The fact that Yoongi has convinced you to go to a festival tomorrow night is so wild you’ve been forcing yourself not to think about it.
“Well, I’d put my money on you over Director Park any day,” you say instead, giving him a soft, knowing smile. Yoongi has a penchant for estimations. If he thinks it’ll only take another day to crack a code that’s been wreaking havoc on Interpol for the better part of a year, then you believe him. You don’t pretend to understand all the intricacies of what he does; just know he’s really good with computers and helps whichever government agency needs it most or something like that.
Yoongi gives you a lazy smile in return. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear. Your confidence in me is like kindling for my fervor,” he croons, wrapping you up in his arms. It feels good to relax in his embrace, the last vestiges of your earlier panic melting away as you soak in his warmth and familiarity. “Sorry I scared you,” he murmurs into your damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”
“What did you have in mind?” you ask, laughing softly when his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt and teasingly caress your sides—the touch is light, making your skin tighten and prickle in response.
A rumbling groan vibrates through Yoongi’s chest as he playfully nips along your jaw before planting his lips firmly over yours in a dizzying and claiming way. “We’ll start with kissing,” the words are whispered between plucks of his mouth against yours, tongue swiping sensually across your bottom lip.
“Kissing is good,” you agree, smiling against his mouth before melting into another heated tangle of tongues and stilted breaths. That fist around your heart eases, letting your chest expand fully for the first time since before you showered.
“Biting,” he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck. The light pressure of his teeth pressing against your skin has your toes curling against the cold tile floor and your fingers fisting into the front of his shirt.
Yoongi plants his mouth right over your pulse point, his tongue flicking over your throbbing vein as his teeth clamp down gently. You swallow hard against the sensation, your heart shifting gears to thud fast in your chest for a different reason. It’s not necessarily fear that drives your senses higher now so much as it is anticipation and an increase in adrenaline—terror adjacent, something you prefer much more to the former.
You shudder against him, knees going weak as he moans, the sound sending pulsing shocks of vibrations down your spine with how his mouth fits against your neck. His fingers ghost along your shorts before finally pushing past the elastic band. The palms of his hands are warm as they slide around and grip handfuls of your ass.
Using his hold on you, Yoongi lifts you up onto the counter beside the sink. As his hands retreat, they tug your shorts with them, working them around the curve of your ass until they’re caught at your knees. You let him push them further until they slacken and fall to catch around your ankles, then onto the floor. Wincing slightly at how cold the counter is against your bare skin, you urge him to fill the space between your thighs, seeking his warmth flush against you once again.
“Yoongi,” you hiss, sucking in a sharp breath as he slides a hand between your bodies and presses the flat of his fingers against your pussy. You don’t need to look in the mirror to know his teeth have left an impression on your neck. He leans back and licks his lips in a show of appreciation, lidded eyes full of mischief and barely veiled lust. “Please.” It comes out warbled as he teases his middle finger between your lower lips.
“Beg for it,” he says. “Show me how much you want me to make you forget about the darkness.” His voice has an edge, like he’s teasing at something, but it’s lost on you to piece together what it might be.
Sucking in a deep breath, you repeat your plea, “Please.”
Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, and you can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding between your legs and under the sensitive skin of your neck that Yoongi ravaged with his teeth. Lightheadedness kisses the edges of your clarity, daring you to get lost in the delirium that Yoongi is offering.
“You can do better than that,” Yoongi taunts, his laugh low and husky as he pulls away, leaving you bereft of his touch where you want it most. “Beg. For. It.” The words are clipped, punctuated with staccato taps of his middle finger against your sensitive clit.
“Fuck—Yoongi, please! Please, I need you!”
“That’s my girl,” Yoongi smiles wickedly. Two slender fingers sliding into your wet heat are your reward. “You’re so wet already. Look at how your body is pulling me in. Fuck, that’s nice.” He angles himself so you can both look down and watch his fingers slowly pull out, glistening with your arousal before sinking back in.
Your body squeezes around his fingers, walls fluttering in anticipation and building pleasure. “Need you,” you mumble, grabbing at the button on the front of his dark wash jeans with one hand and tugging at the bottom of his black t-shirt with the other. “Fuck me, Yoongi, please. Please, fuck me. I need you to make me forget.”
A flurry of motion accompanies his answering growl of approval as he helps you strip him out of his clothes and the rest of your own. You barely feel the absence of his fingers in your cunt before he pulls your ass to the edge of the counter and shoves his cock inside with a guttural moan that echoes in the small space.
The fit of him inside your body is deliciously perfect, like he was made to please you. Your fingers press dents into his shoulders as you grip him tightly. One of his hands squeezes your hip to keep you from slipping off the counter while the other finds its way to having a light grip on your throat.
His forehead rests against yours, the back of your head pressed against the mirror behind you. The angle makes his thrusts shallow, forcing the crown of his cock to rock against a sensitive spot deep inside that has you seeing spots behind your closed lids.
Yoongi has always been a contrasting lover, hot and cold, in a way that always leaves you breathless and assuaged. The look on his face says he’s fucking you, but the sensual roll of his hips says he’s making love to you—the hand on your throat says he just wants to control you. Regardless of how he fucks, it always consumes you. From the first time to now, he wholly and utterly devours your sanity and spits it back at you two-fold. He brings you palpable lucidity while also destroying all sense of right and wrong. Some call it morally grey; you call it just another titillating facet of who he is.
Pleasure builds fast, and you know you’re about to tip over the edge when the pressure of his hand on your throat increases. It’s an infinitesimal change, but it feels like the tightening of a vice all the same.
The erratic beat of your heart stutters further, swallowing you down into a thick-headed spiral of trepidation. You know Yoongi won’t hurt you. It’s not that—not quite. It’s the idea and knowledge that he could. It’s a taboo feeling, craving that helpless flutter deep in your belly that dares you to indulge in the darkness instead of running from it.
Yoongi’s hips continue to roll against you, your body pinned in place by his hand on your throat. Your eyes flutter open just to fall shut again as the hand on your hip moves until his thumb presses against your clit, making your body jerk and hurtle back toward the precipice of pleasure from before.
With his thumb pressed against one throbbing artery in your neck and the pads of his fingers against the twin on the other side, he has complete and utter control over you. All it takes is another barely-there squeeze to have you changing your grip from his shoulders to his forearm.
The bitter taste of cowardice laces together with the cloyingly sweet, carnal flavor of lust that’s coating your insides. Yoongi rumbles, a moan low in his chest. The rhythm of his hips kicks up until they’re hammering against yours to the point that measures of pain mix with the terror, forming into a rapture of exhilaration. His thumb coaxes your orgasm through precise flicks over your swollen clit.
You can’t help the sound that rips from your throat, squeezing past his grip in a ragged mockery of a moan—bright colors spiderweb across the backs of your closed lids as you sip from his chalice of wickedness. White noise joins the rush of blood in your ears as somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, alarm begins to bleed into the hazy euphoria clouding your head. “Yes!” Yoongi groans. “That’s it, fuck!”
“Y-yoon—“ you try to choke out his name, fingers trembling from their tight grip on his forearm. Just as you’re about to try and shove him away to get a reprieve, his hand loosens its hold on your throat, and the instant rush of oxygen to your brain washes away all other thoughts as your body surrenders once again to his dominion. The orgasm tears through you, sweeping you out in a hedonistic riptide. Your walls clamp around his cock so hard he snarls and shudders with the trigger of his own release.
You must have blacked out from the overwhelming cascade that besieged your senses because the next thing you’re aware of is Yoongi tucking you into bed beside him. The sheets are cool against your heated skin, a welcome lull of relief. He presses into your sated body, chest against your back and arm possessively curling over your hip. “Get some sleep, my queen,” he murmurs. “I’ll hold the darkness back.”
The room is dark, just as it was earlier when you panicked. But, just as always, when Yoongi is around, it’s less frightening…seemingly somehow less dark and foreboding. He might have darker desires when it comes to pleasure, but right now, he’s the light that chases away your other demons.
🖤🖤🖤
Yoongi
The taste of your fear still lingers in the back of Yoongi’s throat as he pretends to sleep curled around you. He knew turning off your bedroom light would scare you. It’s why he did it. The peckish feeling that rumbled in the pit of his stomach drove him to want to play with you. Your fear instantly sated his hunger, and it made his dick hard when you screamed. You scream so prettily he just can’t help that natural, primal response. 
That is, after all, precisely why he chose you. Everything about you speaks to his needs, promising sweet and succulent fruit that’s always ripe for plucking.
He learned early on that if he could elevate your heart rate and incite a sliver of fear in you while fucking you…well, his full belly is testament enough to how much he loves that. You call it a kink, he calls it dessert. It wasn’t his intention to fuck you after he frightened you, but the irritating erection grating along his zipper had other plans. 
His mortal form isn’t his favorite. It’s far too small and has far too many baser needs and limitations. Though he does enjoy the feel of your soft, pliant flesh under his—especially when you’re ripe with the sweet smell of terror—it makes it worth the discomfort this inferior mode has.
It’s not lost on Yoongi that he could have ruined you from the start by taking too much from you. But he’s been careful over the years, molding and training your body to be the perfect vessel for him to feed from. The fact you were already experiencing high anxiety and an innate fear of the dark prior to him coming into your life helped tremendously. Nyctophobia is such a beautiful thing.
You claim he’s helped you, for the most part, get over your fears. However, he knows this is just a lie you tell him and yourself to make yourself feel and seem braver. He knows the truth, though. There is no getting over your fear, not when it lives with you…sleeps next to you, touches you, fucks you. He’s everything you’re scared of, everything you think is creeping around in the dark, waiting to pounce. He’s your worst nightmare…literally as much as figuratively—and you have absolutely no inkling of that truth. All you see is what he lets you see: just a sweet guy with a penchant for darker tastes behind closed doors.
To you, he’s just Yoongi. But he has had many names over the centuries: Demon, Baba Yaga, El Coco, Butzemann, Tikoloshe, Bogeyman, and so on. All of them are generally the same, but none are quite right. He is all these things, and yet none of these things—he’s so much more.
It’s a common misconception that he only targets people who do misdeeds. That’s not it at all, for the sweetest fruit is the unwary, the innocent, the vulnerable, and the scared. That is the pinnacle of his desire, the unctuous delight that feeds his depravity and gives him power over the darkness—darkness that calls to him now.
Being careful not to wake you, Yoongi slips out from around your soft, lush body. Feeding on your fear in the bathroom drained some of your vitality, lowering your constitution, and the best recovery for that is a good, uninterrupted eight hours. So, he’ll leave you to replenish so that he may feast once again—one last time before he executes his final, ultimate plan; the whole reason he chose you to begin with and has been periodically parading around in this limited meat suit for years.
The maw of darkness under your bed beckons him to shake off the mortal form and take his rightful place as King among the shadows. Yoongi catches his reflection in the standing mirror across the room. The only thing distinct is the brilliant red eyes staring back at him. It feels good to stretch and dissolve into his proper form, shadows snaking along his limbs and filling his every breath.
You fidget on the bed, brow furrowing as your body reacts to the nearness of his proper form. He likes watching you twitch and shift, soft mewls of fright sounding low in your chest. If he wanted, he could swallow you whole, and you’d never be the wiser, one moment existing in your nightmare and the next slithering into the ether of what comes after. But, it’s not time…not yet.
Letting one of his long, spindly shadow fingers draw back in and reform into the echo of human flesh, he presses the blunt tip against your temple. You instantly quell your movements, and the pitiful cry in your chest subsides. Yoongi can feel the subtle tremble of your body, the vibrations skittering through your flesh as your body recognizes his hellish touch. Your subconscious is as familiar with his umbral form as your conscious is with the lies he’s used to frame how you see him with your eyes.
Digging through the screen of your nightmare, he pulls back the darkness and lets in just enough light to lull you into a false sense of security—something he does nearly every night after he’s fed from you so he doesn’t accidentally drain you dry. By the time he returns, the light will have faded from your dreams, and there will be just enough unfettered distress permeating the air of your bedroom to give him a top off of delicious fear, his own personal cup of pick-me-up.
Yoongi slides under the bed and into the darkness, leaving you to your deep, lambent dreams. He melts through the barrier between your world and his. Euphoria buzzes through him as his depth of power increases. That’s the biggest downfall of walking the mortal plane. There aren’t quite enough shadows or stinking fear to fill the neverending void inside him. But here, in the Realm of Darkness, the taste of terror is thick and nectarous. It lingers in the air and is as permanent as the oxygen you breathe in your world.
Yoongi drifts through the firmament of his domain, letting the worries and stress of what’s to come fade. For a being with endless power and control, he never thought he might have the need to be concerned over something seemingly so trivial. But, the ceremony and ritual he has planned for tomorrow night is easily the most critical thing he’s ever dared to accomplish.
The Realm of Darkness might be sufficiently filled with succulent fodder for him, but there are other limitations he encounters. Constraints that involve the worlds beyond his Kingdom. He doesn’t want just to be able to thrive here on his own turf. He has aspirations of letting his darkness seep into the outer realms—including yours—and if he has his way, you will help him do just that. The barriers will crumble, and he’ll be free to bathe the distant realms in his thick ichor of destruction.
Finally feeling more like himself, he aims for the Shadow Spire, where waits the Throne of the Damned—his throne. All it takes is a simple thought, and he’s standing in the sprawling cavern of the throne room. It stretches wide in all directions, having no end or beginning, just existing as his will needs.
Pillars of malachite soar into the air at equal intervals, disappearing into the glittering cosmos expanse above his head. Silvery flecks of light cast the whole room in a mockery of the night sky of your world, something he’s grown to admire over the years spent there. Yoongi takes a deep breath, soaking in the tangy, bitter stench of brimstone and copper. Soon, he hopes, your delectable perfume of fear will join them.
“Sire,” a gruff voice says in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back until the ritual. Welcome, is there anything we can do for you?”
Yoongi settles his shadowy form on the monstrous broken stone pillar at the top of the dais that rises from the rocky floor. His court, ever vigilant in their duty to him, wait for him to respond. “Is everything prepared for the ceremony?” he asks, eyes finally landing on the six figures seated on the smaller stone plinths arrayed in a semi-circle in front of him—the Shadow Court once again complete with his return. Hopefully, he won’t have to leave the comfort of his court but one more time. Once the ritual is done, he shouldn’t have to so much as lift a finger to reach into the overworld.
“All is well and ready, Sire.” Wicked smiles spread like wildfire across the court. They’re just as excited as Yoongi is to be finally moving forward with the plan. None of them have tasted the kind of fear that Yoongi has feasted on from you—the fresh terror of the mortal realm—but if they had more corporeal forms, he knows they’d be salivating. Soon, so very soon.
Looking around at his companions, he can’t help but think how humorous it is that you so readily believed his deceptions about working for the human government. He remembers the day he finally stepped from the shadows and made himself known to you. You were immediately drawn to him and couldn't stop yourself from indulging in your curiosities like a moth drawn to a flame.
Yoongi had already come up with an elaborate backstory and characterization for the human he wanted to portray. He knew all of your deep, dark fantasies and brought them to life. Your eyes got round with awe and reverence when he first revealed his supposed job, confirming how gullible and under his spell you were. He can’t deny it’s worked in his favor.
He’s allowed to keep odd hours and disappear as needed. When he returns to your bed before the sun rises, he’ll leave you a note on your pillow about being pulled away for work. You’ll read it and sigh a dreamy sigh as you have every other time he’s done that. You never bother to seek further explanation—your trust in him is so wholly concrete.
There is satisfaction in the freedom you’ve granted him to embrace a darker side. It’s how he can get away with fucking you so callously that your brain warps it into some deranged form of love. You’ve chalked every depraved thing he’s done to you up to him needing an outlet after dealing with such heinous stuff for work. He only had to mention a few well-known acronyms, like FBI and CIA, and you accepted it. As scared as you are of the dark, he’s aware of the collection of slasher and horror novels you keep stuffed away under your bed and that you listen with rapt attention to those silly crime shows and podcasts that tell you he’s not the one you should be scared of. Soon, he won’t have to worry about any of that, though—no more silly backstory, no more hiding, no more stuffy mortal form, no more holding back. Tomorrow signifies a change, a new beginning. It’s the time when the veil between the worlds will be thin enough that he can drag you down without it sucking your life away. Some call it Samhain, Calan Gaeaf, Mischief Night, Halloween—it holds nearly as many names as Yoongi himself does—but for him, it will be the night he calls triumph. The night his shadows will lay a claim to you wholly; the night you stop fearing what goes bump in the night and instead stand by its side and let it consume you.
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Wicked Delight
Consciousness comes in fits and spurts of clarity. There is a moment where you’re asleep but aware. With this awareness, you can discern and feel the potent darkness webbing across your subconscious. You’ve seen it before, the myriad of inky tendrils that zig-zag through the light like fissures over a dried river bed. It scares you but also fills you with intrigue so rich it nearly eclipses the fear.
You know that if you could just hang on to that in-between space, the feeling of teetering on the edge of a knife, you could examine the darkness further and figure out what it is and where it comes from. But your body has other plans, sucking you away from your inspection and pushing you toward uneasy wakefulness.
Shifting under the blankets, a crinkling noise draws your eyes open to land on a rumple of white paper lying beside you on the empty side of the bed. With fumbling fingers, you grab the ripped leaf of creamy parchment and turn it so you can see the blue scrawl of words.
Got some darkness to take care of. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Don’t forget; 11 pm sharp, beginning of the corn maze. X
There is no name signed to the note, just an X, but you know who left it, regardless. You roll over, holding the thin paper above you so you can see the faded, faint print under his ink. A smile tugs at your lips when you realize it’s a corner ripped from Kinder und Hausmärchen, one of Yoongi’s favorite books. He has an original first edition that he’s let you moon over a few times. The first time you found a note and saw what it was written on, you nearly crawled out of your skin to berate him for ruining such a prize. He gently chided you for your reaction and assured you it was just a copy, scanned and printed for the whimsy of it.
Looking closer, you see the corner is from a page of the Cat and Mouse in Partnership tale. Your smile fades, turning into a mild frown as an odd feeling ghosts beneath your skin, eliciting goosebumps to pop up along your arms. Sighing, you shake your head and pull the blanket up high under your chin, chalking the sensation up to being cold. Your eyes rove around the room, taking in the early morning light filtering in through your thin curtains, showing you just enough of the inside of your room to be comfortable with not having a light on.
Finally deciding there’s no point in dallying in bed further, you toss back the covers and brace yourself against the chill in your room. Only, it’s not as cold as you were anticipating. Opening the small drawer on your nightstand to deposit the message in with the dozens of others Yoongi has left you over the years, you can help but smile. They’re sweet, little pieces of him that affirm to you why it’s okay he disappears the way he does. The reminder comforts you, especially on this day.
Halloween has never been your favorite. Well, that’s not true, exactly. You do like Halloween—just the modern and more mainstream version with candy, pumpkins, and warm, spiced drinks. Fall colors are also something you enjoy. The cooler air is nice. You’re partial to cozy sweaters and boots, too.
All in all, you enjoy this time of the year. You just don’t necessarily like the darker parts, the scarier parts. Haunted houses and scary movies are things you could do without unless it’s under very specific circumstances. Such as having Yoongi there. Which is the only reason you’ve agreed to meet him at the festival tonight. You haven’t been since you were a teen and got so scared by the fright actors that you swore never to return.
Except, now, you are returning. It’s been on the tip of your tongue for the last week to cancel on Yoongi, feigning a head or stomach ache. But, the sheer excitement in his gaze when you agreed, has been enough to make you bite your tongue every time a protest bubbles up. You can—and will—do this.
With an entire day to go before your date with Yoongi, you busy yourself with mundane tasks. A bit of cleaning, some light reading, and lastly, dumping a few bags of assorted and prepackaged candies into a bright orange bowl with a goofy jack-o-lantern face printed on the side.
You’re usually a porchlight-off kind of person. Still, this year, considering your own venture outside your proverbial Halloween box, you decided why not go the extra mile for others, too? Even if one kid dumps the entire bowl into their treat bag, you’ll at least feel somewhat accomplished in your attempt.
Setting the bowl on your doorstep, you stand back and survey it. The yellow-tinged porch light illuminates the candy and the plastic pumpkins you have arranged on either side of your door. You contemplate adding a ‘please take only one’ sign for the bowl but decide a paper warning isn’t much of a deterrent. Leaving the candy to its fate, you head back inside to finish getting ready.
Time flows in a weird, out-of-body kind of way. You’re aware of pulling on your coat and walking into your garage through the kitchen—even the process of driving to the festival registers in your mind. But, you’re genuinely not cognisant of what you’re doing until you’re staring at the large flashing sign for the festival. You have to practically put on blinders to make it through the ticketing process, ignoring the scare actors as you wait in line.
The corn maze is at the center of it all, meaning you keep your eyes glued to the ground as you skirt the edges of the food stalls and game stands until you reach it. There, you wait, standing at the start of the corn maze and stare at your watch, counting the seconds as they tick by with the small hand.
The air is cool, the crisp scent of fall heavy around you. Laughter and faint screams carry to you from the festival surrounding the maze. The giant corn labyrinth is the center of the entire two-week-long event. Thousands of people flock from near and far to venture within the husked, cream-colored stalks.
If you make it through the maze without assistance from the scare actors, then you get an entire bucket of caramel popcorn drizzled with chocolate. That’s never been enough of a reward for you to try. Even the last time you were here, you never stepped foot into the clustered embrace of the maze.
The festival is lit enough with all the twinkling lights and fair games lining the thoroughfares and the midway. Food trucks and stalls litter through the vendors with stuffed animals and cackling clowns. You try to ignore the bodies that sway and shamble through the crowd—the scare actors. They’re just people dressed up in costume and makeup, but they still elicit that flighty feeling in your belly, that little trickle of fear.
At the ticket booths, there were neon green necklaces you could purchase. You used them as a distraction while you waited in line. They’re ‘no scare’ necklaces, big bright indicators that you’re a sensitive little bitch that doesn’t want to be scared. At least, that’s how you felt looking at them, considering buying one. You know they’re an extremely valid item, a protective emblem that many people need, and that it’s perfectly fine—in fact, it’s encouraged for people to use them if they need to.
As you fingered the green nylon of the lanyard, you couldn’t help chewing your bottom lip, worrying at it until it cracked under your teeth and the coppery tang of blood danced across your tongue. You almost bought it…maybe you should have. However, the fact that you’re half-hidden by the corn maze sign and doing everything in your power not to draw unwanted attention to yourself seems to be keeping you from attracting the actors your way.
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The tiny hand on your watch ticks away, drawing closer to turning over the minute, which'll turn over the hour to 11 PM. Sharp. Yoongi’s insistence. Just as the hands come together on your watch, you feel that telltale tingling feeling of eyes on you. It’s a familiar sensation, one you often associate with Yoongi. Daring to step out from behind the sign to the corn maze, you spin in a slow circle, trying to catch sight of him.
“Looking for someone?”
You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the shriek that rips from your chest as those words drift in from right behind you. So close that it’s impossible to imagine you hadn’t noticed him approaching you as you looked around.
“Yoongi,” you sigh, dropping your hand.
He's enveloping you from behind before you can turn around and give him a pouty yet stern look. His familiar musk and warmth ease your heart back from its hammering gallop. “You’re good enough to eat,” he gruffly murmurs, pressing his nose into the fabric of your coat at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You can feel more than hear his deep inhalation, as if he’s drawing in the scent of your very soul and branding it throughout his olfactory system.
“The maze closes in an hour. Are you sure we can make it to the center before then?” you ask, voice light and airy as relief infused with drips of serotonin weaken your knees and your resolve to be upset with him for frightening you. You turn in his arms, keen to look upon his face for another kick of comfort, but it sours in your belly when you take in his pulled-up hood and the thick black gaiter covering the bottom half of his face. “What’s that for?”
Yoongi shrugs, shoulders lifting in his typical nonchalant manner. “It’s Halloween. Consider me dressed for the occasion.” He winks at you, but it does nothing to quell the unease still rolling around just beneath your surface. Feigning that stomachache is starting to sound more and more appealing, Yoongi’s excitement be damned.
“You look like a burglar.”
You can’t see his smile, but you can tell it’s there by how his eyes crinkle and lids lower mischievously. “And you look ripe for the burgling.”
“You’re insufferable,” you gripe teasingly, finally letting a smile grace your face despite the lingering anxiety. It’s easy to forget your fears and worries when you’re looking into his umber-colored gaze.
“Come on, let’s go.” Yoongi offers you his elbow, and you tuck your hand into the crook of it, leaning your shoulder against his arm.
The fleece-lined leggings you chose to wear keep you warm enough, paired with the knit sweater and thick tweed coat covering your top half. Your chunky boots are comfortable and practical for the slightly uneven terrain of the cornfield-turned-maze. Yoongi is far more casual in just jeans, the hoodie, and a pair of dusty and worn sneakers.
You study his face the best you can past the edge of his hood and out of the corner of your eye. He’s just as handsome as always. Even the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face doesn’t detract from his allure, which seems to be intensified by the deepening darkness around you as he leads you through the maze entrance.
A festival worker stands off to the side in full-on farmer-gore. Their overalls are covered in faux viscera, and there is a bloodied sling blade dangling from their off-hand as they beckon you and Yoongi forward with their other.
“Tonight's savior phrase is ‘Pumpkin Guts’, yell it out if you need assistance navigating the maze, and a helper will assist you,” he offers before turning to the next patron approaching a few feet behind you and Yoongi and giving them the same information.
“Pumpkin Guts,” Yoongi scoffs with a quiet laugh. “Surely they could have come up with something far more fitting than that.”
“I find it kind of nice. The childish charm of it helps make a situation like getting lost in the maze less scary, don’t you think?”
His eyes look more onyx now that you’re within the maze, the only illumination coming from tiny, sparse fairy lights. They catch your gaze, and you see a smile tilt up the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “That’s adorable.”
“What?” you laugh, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks.
Yoongi shakes his head, his smile growing. “You always find the good in everything. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
All the residual anxiety from earlier bleeds away with just that singular statement. You press in closer to Yoongi and angle your face up in silent request, to which he immediately obliges. He hooks a finger in the lip of his gaiter and pulls it down so he can slant his mouth over yours. His lips are warmer than usual, his breath carrying faint hints of bourbon as he teasingly slips his tongue through the seam of your lips. All too soon, he’s pulling away, leaving you with just that small taste of him. The gaiter slides back into place, and he nods ahead of you. “The quicker we make it to the center, the quicker you get the surprise I have waiting for you.”
“A surprise?” you ask, thoroughly intrigued. 
His affirming hum in response turns into a soft chuckle as you eagerly quicken your steps, tugging him along beside you. As someone who isn’t partial to being shocked or scared, it’s perhaps a bit ironic that you love surprises of the unknown. They just have to be the right kind—like one from Yoongi; er, well, at least the ones that don’t involve him sitting on your bed in the dark as you open the bathroom door or so you tell yourself—but you digress.
Though, perhaps there is a bit of enjoyment from those kinds of surprises, too. In a twisted, semi-fucked up way, the surge of adrenaline is like a counterweight to the dopamine response from your amygdala that follows any time you get frightened. The perfect balance of emotions. The fight or flight reflex makes your body feel like it’s keyed up with extra energy, leaving you feeling like you’ve just run a mile or fucked for an hour. It’s maybe a little unhinged to salivate over those small sips of terror secretly. Does that make you a masochist?
You’d almost think Yoongi picks up on your inner thoughts with the way he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat and gives you a sidelong, knowing look. Something tingles beneath your skin, an electric feeling akin to loose ambitions. It seems tonight won’t be so bad after all.
The crunch of dried corn husks and hay accompanies the occasional scream or laugh echoing from various points in the maze. You’ve only led Yoongi to a dead-end a handful of times so far, but the anxiety at not having found the center of the maze yet is starting to mount.
“I can feel your stress in the tension in your hand,” Yoongi muses softly. “Relax, you’ll get your surprise.”
“What if they close the maze before we make it to the center, though?”
“They won’t.”
You cut a quick glance at him. He looks smug. “You seem so sure, but from my count,” you shift your attention to your watch, “we only have fifteen minutes before the festival closes, and I’d guess we’re nowhere near the center yet.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I may have paid the vendor to let us stay as long as we need.”
“You did what?”
“Tonight’s special,” Yoongi tugs you to a stop, his hands engulfing yours, and gives you a pointed look. “Very special.” The thumb of his right hand grazes over the expanse of skin above the knuckle on your left ring finger. “Now, let’s go find the center…and your surprise.”
A new sensation trickles in–excitement. Your heart patters faster as you turn and haul Yoongi on with renewed vigor. Gone is any trepidation; in its place, nothing but giddy and barely veiled anticipation. And to think, you’d almost been silly and canceled on him.
🖤🖤🖤
Yoongi
Yoongi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you look good enough to eat tonight. If only you knew how close to an accurate statement that was. He’s had a constant flow of moisture seeping into his mouth since he laid eyes on you standing behind the wooden sign for the maze. He had just finished setting up the surprise for you in the center, utilizing his natural form in order to move quickly without being seen.
All the implements he needs await him at the maze's center. The theatrics of it all are only for fun. He could have simply taken you without them. But he’s always been partial to playing with his food before devouring it. The pungency of your anxiety as you waited was a delightful appetizer to what is sure to be a satiating main course.
Every time you make a wrong turn in the maze, Yoongi can feel the tension in your muscles and the momentary disappointment that flavors your scent. It’s amusing watching you shuffle your feet and grumble under your breath before turning and backtracking.
It’s not lost to him the amount of uncertainty you’ve had ever since he asked you to go with him tonight. Not that he would have given you a choice in the end; he’d have taken you by force if needed. But he’s a passive creature at best, so the less work he has to do, the better.
Using the ruse of there being a surprise waiting for you isn’t entirely untrue. Though, the treat he’s confident that he’s planted the idea of in your head is far different from what’s actually going to happen. He’s spent enough time in the mortal realm to know what you’d have interpreted from him stroking that particular finger with the right look in his eye. Your heart had gone into a frenzy of thick, heavy beats, and your eyes had lit up with wonder.
Yeah, he’s pretty sure he knows what’s driving your feet to move as quickly as they are now. It’ll just make the disappointment taste that much sweeter. Over the five years he’s been administering to you, molding you into the perfect vessel, he’s learned the small nuances that make you tick. Whether it’s for eliciting fear or excitement, desire or anguish, he knows exactly how to produce the results he wants.
“Ugh,” you grumble for the dozenth time when you turn a corner and come to another dead end. “This is impossible. How can you find enjoyment in these things?”
Yoongi smirks. “It’s quite analytical if you really want me to answer that.” The way your nose wrinkles when he says that is positively adorable. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”
You gleefully cede the lead, letting him guide you back and toward a different direction entirely. You’re still excited, bubbling with positive anticipation, even though you’re no longer playing the game, per se. It’s interesting how you so quickly relinquish the hunt—he’d never.
The noise of the festival and maze has long since fizzled away. He didn’t actually pay the attendant. He’s just using some of his ability to mask your presence from anyone who might get in the way. Some of the lights from the midway are still going, and a few rides are lit up. However, the deeper Yoongi leads you into the labyrinth, the darker it becomes. He’s confident you’re so wound up that you don’t even notice how his shadows grow and stretch along the narrow walkway around you.
“Oh, look!” You excitedly point at the opening that comes into view at the end of the row. “I can smell the popcorn. Did that bribe include a bucket waiting for us, too?”
Yoongi has no idea if there is popcorn waiting, but he imagines you’re only smelling the lingering scent. He can’t detect anyone else within a hundred-meter radius around the maze. If the prospect of popcorn makes you happy, then sure. “Of course it did. We’ll need a snack once I’m done with you.” Which mostly isn’t true, though he can’t be sure. Yoongi has never shadow-turned a human before, much less taken a mate in the process. You might be ravenous by the time he’s done; though, he’d bet it won’t be popcorn you’ll be craving.
There is a distinct moment where Yoongi can feel the shift in your demeanor. Your excitement dips into confusion as you take in the finish line area that’s deserted of anyone and anything other than the large 10 ft square structure he erected in the middle. The raw malachite plinths are so dark the lindworm-colored stone seems to absorb the illuminance around them, turning the gateway into a giant pit of darkness that devours the faint twinkling lights. Shadows bleed from the open space between the pillars, reaching for their master.
Yoongi’s blood sings with desire as fear trickles in with the confusion. “Yoongi,” you whisper his name, and it warbles from your lips oh so beautifully. “What’s that?”
“That’s your future, my love.” He untangles himself from your grip, circling you like a predator. “Now, run!” he snarls from right behind you.
You don’t even scream when he shoves you forward, your arms windmilling and boots tripping over the scatter of dried corn husks before you topple headlong between the pillars. The last thing he sees before the waiting shadows swallow you is the whites of your eyes as you throw a panicked look over your shoulder at him.
It’s mildly disappointing that you didn’t even so much as grunt or give him any sort of satisfaction that you’re petrified other than the cloying perfume of your terror that settles on his tongue when he huffs in irritation. Hopefully, when he follows you through the gateway, you’ll already be on the run because he’s in the mood to play a while longer before he shatters the world as you know it.
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Yoongi wants you to recognize him, so he only casts off some of his mortal form, choosing to keep his face and most of his body intact. What changes is his size; he grows larger, arms and legs longer, fingers more like talons, and eyes the dark red of fresh blood.
He knows he looks monstrous, even more so with the cloth still covering the lower half of his face and the hoodie now ripped and hanging from his physique. As soon as he slides through the barrier of the gateway, he’s met with that euphoric sound he hoped for earlier. Your scream rends through the thick, stale air of the Realm of Darkness, music to his ears.
“That’s my girl,” Yoongi crows, his voice gravelly and distorted by his natural form. He inhales deeply, sucking in your dismay's succulent and divine fragrance. “Fuck.”
You scream again as he steps toward you, which spurs you into gaining your feet, not even caring to look at the soot-like substance caking your hands and knees. Yoongi can only imagine the thoughts warring inside your pretty little head right now. Wild fear makes your eyes flick frantically around before you choose a direction and sprint at breakneck speed between the skeletal trees surrounding this side of the gateway.
He chose the Forest of Decay specifically because it provides the perfect environment for a chase. It allows him to easily keep up with you while giving the illusion of protection. There’s also not a single nook or cranny Yoongi isn’t intimately familiar with; after all, he can’t have you finding some unknown hole to burrow into.
The flash and flicker of your coat draws his attention as it zigs and zags through the petrified sentinels of the forest. Their long, gnarled branches reach far, entwining overhead like a macabre endless bird's nest. It creates a dim atmosphere, with the faintest hint of light bleeding through the limbs. Each tree is about a foot wide and twenty feet high, the ground covered in sooty ash; it’s an ideal playground.
“Leave me alone!” you sob when Yoongi lets you catch another glimpse of him.
Yoongi shudders as a fresh, new wave of terror undulates from you and washes over him. “No can do, my queen.”
The thrill of the chase adds kindling to Yoongi’s need to consume you whole. Every step you take is reckless. You throw yourself around trees so fast you nearly hit the next. The spacing between the trees is relatively narrow, just a few feet at most. Still, with the way you’re barreling through them, you’ve already accumulated a few scratches and minor lacerations from the dried bark, feet kicking up small puffs of ash with every frantic step. The tangy, sweet scent of your blood makes him salivate. The thick, viscous drool coating his tongue will make it all that easier to fuck you with it once he catches you.
Lumbering on behind you, Yoongi intentionally stomps and makes as much noise as possible. Every crack and thump he makes has a whimper shivering from your throat. The thick appendage between his monstrous thighs swells with each terrified sound you make. Fucking you in his proper form will be such a treat. Surely, it’ll be far better than any sex he’s had with the limits of his human body, even if he does love the way your softness compliments his.
But there is nothing soft about Yoongi now—not when he has such a tasty morsel running and screaming so prettily for him. He’s all hard edges and thick muscle. A manic chuckle bubbles in his chest as he leaps ahead, hounding your heels.
It’s comical, ironic even, when he watches your foot catch on a high root hidden by a pile of ash, and you go sprawling on the ground before him. He’s seen enough of those cheesy horror films so fervently worshiped in your world to know how funny this is.
“Please, no! Leave me alone!” you beg through ragged breaths. Your face and hair are marked with scratches, flecks of dried bark, and the pewter-colored ash covering the ground.
An appreciative moan works its way free of Yoongi as he stands over you, swaying like he’s drunk. Which, maybe he is. There is a faint buzzing in his ears, and if he opens his eyes too wide, your image doubles. Two of you; he grins wickedly at the prospect. Now, that would be a definite treat.
As it is, there’s only you; that will be sufficient for what Yoongi has planned. He looms over you, and the backward-bending joints of his knees give slightly as he towers across your prone form. Your eyes pan over his arched body, perhaps for the first time, taking it in with true clarity. Yoongi lets his skin ripple between human and proper form, coalescing and whirling with shadows.
With a flex of darkness, he rends the remnants of his clothes. The ripping of the seams and subsequent soft plop of the ruined fabrics echo through the suddenly silent space. You’re barely even breathing as you take him in, eyes landing on the swinging cock that nearly brushes your belly as he places a gnarled hand beside your head in the ash.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, though it comes out more like sand in a grinder. Lowering further, Yoongi nudges your chin with his nose, guiding your head sideways to give him unfettered access to your throat. Pressing into the crook of your neck, he huffs hot breath over your skin, rejoicing in the instinctive reaction. Your skin prickles and flushes with goosebumps, and a thick cloud of potent fear wafts up as your pulse hammers away beneath his lips.
“P-please,” you whimper through trembling lips. Tears stream down your cheek and drip off the bridge of your nose. Their salty tang mixes with the sweetness of terror pervading the air.
That word, spoken in that way…it does something to Yoongi. He groans, nipping at the skin of your neck with his blunted teeth before letting them elongate so he can adequately graze your papery-thin flesh. You cry out when they slice through, leaving behind thin blood trickles and shallow scratches.
Your blood is laced with fear, blooming on his tongue like an ambrosia of the gods. “You’ve always begged so prettily, my queen. You’re a treasure, and I’m so glad I found you all those years ago, so innocent and unsuspecting—my perfect mate.”
The next scream that leaves your lips is guttural, full of panic and delirium as Yoongi takes his first pull from your body. Thin wisps of black shadow thread from his lips to yours. They pulse with every drag he takes. He’s fed from you thousands of times, but never like this—never so profoundly.
Fear, terror, horror, fright…it’s all the same, and yet Yoongi is almost sure he can taste the distinction. Like a fine wine, you have tasting notes that vary with every sip. By the fifth breath, your body has grown slack, your eyes wide and glassy. Tears still stream down your face but in silence.
Yoongi watches your pallor grow sickly, waxy as sweat pearls along your hairline and temples. Draining you is a delicate affair, something he’s both dreaded and looked forward to for so long. Watching the fire that he loves so much bleed from your eyes and the vigor leech from your skin pangs him with a foreign sensation, something akin to mourning? He realizes now he will mourn the loss of your human form, even if it’s far inferior to what he will turn you into.
With one final shuddering gasp, the darkest, thickest tendril of shadow snakes its way between your parted lips. Your fingers and limbs spasm as the inky darkness roots in deep, tethering itself to you like the strings of a marionette. It pulls tight in Yoongi’s own chest, cementing his essence to yours. As a barbed ring of shadow settles on the ring finger of your left hand, the bond snaps into place, and chaos ensues.
🖤🖤🖤
You’ve never experienced such visceral fear before. It’s consumed every fiber of your being. You’re no longer who you once were and will never be the same again. You are simply fear incarnate.
A boiling starts beneath your skin, beginning at the tips of your fingers and toes before rolling through to the center of your chest, where it pops and sizzles like dry ice in tepid water, so cold it burns.
It’s like flipping a coin. One minute, you are experiencing insurmountable terror, and the next, you exude it. Nothing can scare you now, not even the monster sitting a few feet away watching you with calculated eyes—familiar eyes, eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you can count.
They’re not as cold as they were a moment ago. You distinctly remember how those red eyes softened right before you felt yourself float away. It’s Yoongi, you know this, but it’s also not. He’s different, and it’s not even the deformed, gangly shadow form that makes up his body, either. There’s something more, something that draws you in, like an anchor dragging you into his deepest, darkest depths. He’s a vast ocean, and you’re pretty sure what he just did was akin to drowning you—killing you.
Only you don’t feel dead.
Quite the opposite, in fact. For the first time in your existence, you feel truly alive; and not in the living sense but in the eternal sense. You have no ending or beginning; you exist as you will yourself to be.
With that thought, your body urges you to change, to morph into a far more comfortable form. Darkness seeps from your pores, cascading out of your skin until it becomes a mockery of its former self, and it feels good—so good.
“What have you done to me?” Your voice sounds different, soft yet sultry. It reminds you of black silk and lace, devious and coy, with the perfect mix of husk and drawl.
Yoongi lets out a slow breath, the sound like dry leaves crackling. “Made you mine.”
“What…what are we?”
The soft ash sifts between your now exposed toes, the boots you once wore laying in peeled strips along with tattered remnants of your clothes. Nudity has never been an issue for you, but it’s as if you have no inhibitions at all now. The shadows around your body contort to form curves and perfect swells.
“We have many names. Demons, bogeymen…it’s all very fitting, yet doesn’t quite capture the truth. What I am—what we are—is darkness, fear, terror, and shadow. We are infinite, endless, and everything all at once.”
“Why me?” you whisper. That tether inside of you pulses, pulling tight as you shift and try to put distance between yourself and Yoongi. It’s like a rope around your throat, pulling you up short.
Yoongi narrows his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “This is the Realm of Darkness—my domain,” he gestures broadly with a clawed hand, “and it was all I had access to until I found a way to enter yours. Once I tasted the sweet nectar of fear it provided and the power it allowed me access to, I couldn’t stop my curiosity and need for more. Then I found you, and I knew you would be the perfect compliment to my aspirations, just the thing I needed to break the barriers completely.”
He straightens up, and the way his body catches your attention has a heat flaring somewhere deep in your being. Your eyes lock on the dark sinews and plump muscles that stretch and contract as Yoongi moves to crouch in front of you. The ribbed and notched cock swaying between his thighs dribbles a thick, viscous line of lavender-colored arousal.
Tearing your eyes from the sight of it, you force yourself to look into his feral, red eyes. His explanation is both confusing and clear at the same time. You understand it, but know that you should be railing against it because it’s morally incomprehensible. You’ve essentially been kidnapped and forced into what this is. Yet…yet—“I feel…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe it.
“Powerful,” Yoongi offers with a knowing, pointed-tooth grin.
“Powerful,” you repeat, letting the word roll around your tongue before nodding. Perhaps that’s why you are shrugging off your cares and the moral compass that has seemingly forgotten how to point north.
The subtle smell of burnt wood and sulfur hits you as Yoongi raises a hand to fit across the front of your throat. Those too-long fingers engulf it, sending a shiver down your new body. Instead of your belly filling up with fear, it fills with desire and need. You no longer need to battle the terror, letting it drip away from you instead.
“Look at you. You’re so perfect. You don’t feel scared, but that’s only because this realm leeches it away and devours it before it can poison your mind, leaving behind nothing but how you truly feel.”
You know there has always been a darkness inside you, something that even you feared to face head-on. After all, it must take some kind of crazy to be both scared of the dark and want to embrace it. It’s not just the way Yoongi plied your body and made you forget to care about being proper and good. Is this what you were made for—all the fright and terror you’ve experienced and secretly sought out leading you to this very moment here?
All it takes is one look at Yoongi to know the truth.
You were created for this, crafted to be precisely what Yoongi needed, just as he said.
With that moment of clarity and acceptance, a new sensation slithers down your spine. A lasciviousness that has you moaning in surprise. 
“Fuck,” you grind out between clenched teeth.
“Gladly,” Yoongi chuckles, his red eyes taking on a lecherous gleam. “Let’s unleash your darkness on the realms, my queen.”
Between one breath and the next, your knees are splayed wide, and Yoongi has his face buried between your thighs. All it takes is one languid swipe of his long, broad tongue to have you cursing again. Caustic words fall from your mouth, laced with vitriol as it’s unfair how good it feels. It’s like every inch of contact between your body and his writes itself across what was once your soul.
“Mmmph,” you moan incoherently as the beginning of an orgasm lashes against your insides. Yoongi greedily sucks and licks, tongue laving over your throbbing clit before sliding between your contracting walls.
A tsunami of darkness crashes out from within you, blanketing the surrounding forest in shadow. Wisps of clarity ebb and flow, drifting along with the gloom until Yoongi grounds you with an exceptionally sharp pinch to one of your nipples.
“Almost there,” he announces gleefully, licking his lips before launching forward and forcing you onto your back.
Yoongi feels like fire against you, his body scorching everywhere it touches. You expect to feel the soft ash against your back but the only sensation that ebbs in is a cool aeration against the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.
Monstrous arms wrap around you as Yoongi slots his too-big mouth over yours, invading you with his slick, serpentine tongue. Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of a pewter sky beyond the scraggy branches that are suddenly closer overhead.
You try to pull away from his devouring kiss to alert him to the jagged web of dry wood about to scrape his back, but he growls and renews his effort to shove his tongue as far into your mouth as possible. Snaps and cracks fill the air, and wood explodes around you.
Realization dawns as more should-be-fear-turned-lust pours through your body and expands beyond it, filling the sky around you with a murky darkness. The power of that emotion propels you further, sending you and Yoongi far above the landscape to suspend over the entirety of the Realm of Darkness, leaving a streamer of smoke-like essence in your wake.
Yoongi throws his head back, finally relenting from the kiss. His broad chest heaves against yours, and his red eyes are wild as they roll manically before landing on you. “How is this possible?” you pant, hands gripping the muscles of his shoulders tightly.
“Anything is possible here,” he whispers fervently before spinning you so fast your vision blurs. The horizon spans as far as you can see around you. You and Yoongi are hundreds of feet higher than even the tallest mountain peak. Everything is a monochrome grey, black, or in-between. A jagged line of mountains rear to your right while inky streams and rivers zig zag to your left. It’s a hideously beautiful display that contradicts all scenic views you’ve ever seen, yet is better than all of them combined.
“Oh, God,” you whimper when Yoongi forces your legs wide and slots his hips between them from behind. Shadows billow around you, charged with energy that crackles and sizzles, barely restrained from being unleashed to wreak untold havoc.
Thin fingers slide around to cup the front of your throat, giving a none too gentle squeeze. Yoongi snarls, “There is no God here. We are the gods!” His declaration is punctuated by the head of his cock prodding against your sopping cunt. This new body is already eager to pleasure Yoongi and receive pleasure in kind.
His hips kick forward, and you feel every delicious ridge and ripple along his thick shaft. It feels like he invades the pit of your stomach, filling you to the brink. It’s a rush of wicked delight, pure erotic rapture.
You moan again, this time invoking the only name left on your tongue, “Yoongi!”
“I’ve been looking forward to fucking you like this for five years,” he grunts, emphasizing the words with his hips pumping against your ass in brutal strokes. “Claiming you wholly, decorating the world with our combined shadows. Look how they writhe for you, waiting for you to command them. Let go.”
Your eyes roll from side to side, taking in the dark, undulating forms stretching wide around you. With each prick of pleasure Yoongi insights in your body, they branch and roil further out, creating the foundation for your own personal bedlam. 
Like a bounty won at the end of a hunt, Yoongi ravishes your body with his. He’s brutal, unrelenting and wanton. The hand on your throat tugs with every slam of his hips, bowing your back and forcing you to peer out at the Kingdom begging for your rule. Darkness beseeches you, screaming for your glory and power as it pours out and blankets the sky.
Your world narrows to one pin point of coherency. Yoongi. He is nothing and everything all at once. He is the beginning and the end—fear, loathing, lust, and madness…through it all, he is infinite. And he’s yours.
With one final, shuddering breath you let go; welcoming the darkness once and for all.
“Yes.” The word, whispered from your parted lips, is sucked away with the maelstrom that detonates around and within you.
You barely hear the guttural, primal roar that emits from Yoongi as he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with his terrible darkness. You shatter into a multitude of shards, a glittering storm that dances through the ether, sparking and catching on the thin membrane that stretches between the realms. All it takes is one weak point, a small breach in the barrier, and everything falls apart.
It’s glorious, feeling yourself everywhere all at once. Your body is still fluttering around Yoongi, sucking and welcoming his release into your soul. But, your consciousness is spread wide, bleeding through the nexus of this realm and the one you once called home.
The mortal realm bows to your will. You can feel the beings of the Realm of Darkness funneling toward the broken gateways, pouring through to consume and conquer with the whisper of your glory on their tongues. Fear reigns supreme, consuming everything in its path as you expand your hold on the darkness.
“My Queen of Darkness,” the ephemeral coo caresses your ear, phantom lips brushing along your shadows. Yoongi’s darkness blends with yours, adding to the pulse that seeps to all corners of existence. “No longer will you fear, as you are fear itself…glorious, neverending fear.”
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-10-23 ColorMePurplex2
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eoieopda · 11 months
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problem | myg
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pairing: min yoongi x darksided!reader summary: yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock. type: drabble, suggestive fluff (?) au: darksided; halloween; established relationship rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) word count: 1k cw: yoongi’s on his tony montana, more money/more problem shit shit; afab!reader dressed as female character (elvira hancock); no smut but definitely suggestive thoughts/statements; kissin’, gropin’, nibblin’. a/n: happy halloween! i didn’t plan this, lmao. this is partly to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the darksided series. you don’t need to have read the series to read this drabble, but context is fun 😌
For the past eight years, Halloween has been spent on the couch, eating candy straight out of a party-sized bag and watching movies. A low-key holiday for low-key people, both of whom prefer going to bed at a reasonable hour over getting stupid into the wee hours of the morning. 
It’s been your favorite holiday for the better part of a decade for that reason — the lack of pressure and commotion, as well as the guarantee of quality time spent in the comfort of sweatpants. It’s nice, doing fuck all with the person you love doing nothing and everything with. Nobody has ever caught you complaining; and they never will.
This year, to your shock and awe, Yoongi bucked your expectations for the millionth consecutive time. Not only did he RSVP “yes” to a Halloween party, he decided that you would both attend in costume.
Apparently, one of the multitudes he contains kind of likes the idea of coordinating outfits with you.
You damn near fell over when he brought his idea to you in the first place; but now that he’s kneeling in front of you, dressed in a white suit and a torturously unbuttoned red button-up, you’re struggling to stay upright for an entirely different reason.
“Left foot,” he murmurs, gesturing to one of the legs you have dangling off the edge of the bed.
You oblige, resting your bare foot on his thigh. Silently, you watch while he slips your heel onto your foot, lips pursed in concentration as he deals with the tiny buckle on the ankle strap.
It shouldn’t fuck you up to see his fingers moving deftly, doing something this mundane, but it does. 
Makes you want to blow off this party and spend the night with those hands instead.
God. 
Those hands.
Their gentle grip on your ankle, the glint of his rings in the lamplight, the slender length of —
“Jagiya.”
Yoongi is smiling slightly when his words nudge you back to reality with a jolt. If that smirk tells you anything, it’s that he’s called out to you at least once before. All you do is squeak in response; your brain is a bit too scrambled to think of better.
And he knows it, too.
Bastard.
Slowly, he shifts your heel off his thigh. To emphasize his instruction, he taps your right ankle lightly. “Right foot, jagi.” 
You’re boneless but acquiesce, nonetheless. 
Then, he has the audacity to say, “Good girl,” with his fingertips brushing softly over your bare skin, and you may as well black the fuck out. No part of the moments that follow registers in your mind; you may as well have lost it.
When Yoongi demands your attention the second time, he doesn’t bother with pet names. He leans slightly forward to where the high slit of your dress leaves a knee exposed, presses a kiss to the piece of you on display, and keeps his lips there just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
“All set,” he says innocently, as if there’s anything angelic about the way he’s looking at you.
Dark eyes match the dark hair he’s pushed back off his forehead, and there’s a wickedness to them that you’ve never successfully ignored — not once in eight years.
“Ready to go?”
You make some unintelligible noise in response that you can’t parse yourself. Just like always, Yoongi manages to find the meaning you’re unable to locate; and he pushes himself to his feet. Two hands extend to help you do the same, and — just like always — you take them, no hesitation.
When you stand on unsteady legs, teal silk slips down the length of you and falls back into place with a flourish, fanning out at your ankles. Yoongi pauses, drinks in the sight of you like he’s drowning. He hums appreciatively to himself before reaching up to brush synthetic, blonde hair off your cheek.
“We’re running late,” he eventually notes. 
Neither of you makes a single move towards the door. It’s only his arm that moves, hand dropping from your face to skim over the fabric covering your waist, hugging the curve of it. You shiver, although it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the way your dress is cut.
“Michelle Pfeiffer’s got nothing on you.”
You swallow hard, going tense all over.
An hour passes in a second.
“Have I told you that I love this dress?”
You’re crawling out of your skin, vibrating on a frequency only Yoongi can hear. Fuck this dress, fuck this party, fuck me. Even though you don’t verbalize any of it, you know that he knows.
His eyes flick down your frame like he’s weighing what he wants against what he’s obligated to. Like he’s starving, and he’s searching for permission to sate his appetite.
There’s no weight to your voice when you say, “So, take it off,” but it hits him heavy. You feel the force of it when his hands grip your ass and pull you close. Chest to chest, it’s present in your heartbeat, too; thudding violently with anticipation.
He repeats himself, voice low, “We’re running late.”
But his actions tell you that he doesn’t give a shit about the clock. His mouth finds the skin beneath your jaw, and the heat of his breath warms your neck in the seconds before his lips do. At first, it’s just a kiss. 
Then, it’s a whisper.
“Really late.”
Then, it’s the faint graze of his teeth when he nips at you, followed by the flick of his tongue, eager to soothe the sting.
“We can be later,” he muses on an exhale, as if either of you needs to be convinced. His grip on your ass tightens just enough to pull a whimper out of you. “What do you think, Elvira?”
Your brain has liquified with the rest of you, but you summon the strength to run your fingertips along the edges of his lapel. “Tony,” you start with a sigh.
“Hmm?” He hums, mouth too busy to form words.
You grip those lapels and push him slightly backwards, interrupting his ministrations in order to look him dead in the eyes. Loving the challenge, he smirks back at you with one eyebrow arched expectantly.
“One of us’ll die if you don’t kiss me for real, and it won’t necessarily be me.”
Just like always, Yoongi only needs to be told once.
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piedpiperslists · 8 months
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Jungkook One Shots (LXVIII)
* s - contains smut
Never Let You Go by @yeojaa s wc~7.6k / tattoo artist!Jungkook Summary: You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)
You’ll Let Me? by @honeytae s wc~2.9k / established relationship
Savage Love by @whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~3k Summary: We all make happy mistakes, right? And Jeon Jungkook’s was fucking Min Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend. Oops.
Still Want That by @whatifyoulivelikethat s wc~6.3k Summary: Fucking Min Yoongi ex-girlfriend? A terrible idea. Being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? An even worse idea. Knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? Ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing?
Hotel by @satnin-darling s wc~5.1k / ft PJM, established relationship, idol au Summary: Jungkook always comes to Jimin's room at odd hours in the day because he says it's boring to be all by himself, holed up in his own hotel room. The real reason, of course, is because you're there.
Late by @satnin-darling s wc~6.7k / ft PJM, established relationship, idol au Summary: Sometimes, it can’t be helped that Jimin and Jungkook are late. It’s no one’s fault, really, since that’s what usually happens when all three of you are together anyway.
[...] Trick or Treat by @satnin-darling s wc~5.9k / ft MYG Summary: The Joker, a Gray Pianist, and an Action-taker were supposed to walk into a bar on Halloween. Turns out they don't even make it past the front door because they were too busy fucking each other to partake in this year’s spooky season.
[LOVE - 40]/[40 - LOVE] by @satnin-darling s wc~11.5k / tennis player!Jungkook, journalist!reader Summary: At the end of August, Jungkook had to pull out of one of the biggest tennis tournaments of his career. His injuries were inhibiting him and he felt like he was back to square one. He returns to Busan for rehab and he gets interviewed by you for an article. But your twin brother had just died and you were shocked with grief. So you spend a couple of days talking about tennis but underneath the surface, you cover so much more.
Kismet by @satnin-darling s wc~14.2k / strangers to lovers, fantasy au Summary: In this life, you get to choose what to believe in, be it fate or chance. But little did you know that some people above are messing with you, in the most non- prearranged way possible. Enter Jimin, who works for the department of Fate, with his unlikely colleague, Taehyung, who works for the department of Chance. They quarrel to no end, pulling at the strings that hold up the universe to fashion something that resembles destiny or coincidence. As a result, you and Jungkook end up being mere puppets to their ploy, which begs the question: is it fate or coincidence?
The Arrangement by @jiminisnotavirgin s wc~5.6k / angst, sugar baby!Jungkook Summary: Jungkook’s dinner with you, his noona, is different than usual, leading to an interesting and sexual escapade… in the bathroom.
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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months
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love u lately (m) #5 | myg/knj/pjm
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title: love u lately​ chapter title: #5 - home girl​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: after getting entangled with jimin and him revealing that he knows your secret at the halloween party, you decide coming clean to yoongi about what happened would be the best choice. however, this doesn't come without consequences, as it creates a distance between you two. when jimin comes to remedy this with a wild idea, what would happen is something you'd never expect. warnings:  halloween party ending bits, smut, cunninglingus, blowjob, alcohol/recreational drug mentions, swearing, kissing, A LOT, fingering, CONSENSUAL and PROTECTED sex, penetration, HEAVYYYYYY on the ANGST, does this count as cheating if they're not together, confessions???, good end of the chapter!, jimin being a wild card note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and writing the smut as I struggled with life last month. truly appreciate all the hard work and support you give me to write this fic total word count: 10.5k drop date: December 13th, 2023, 4:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #4 | Series Masterlist | #6 →
“I knew it.”
Huh? What does he mean he ‘knew it?’ Knew what? Jimin’s response sounds coy, which is definitely not what you were expecting. A brief moment of silence and confusion passes by before you verbally react.
“Wait what?”
The ringing coming from your phone comes to an end. You guess Yoongi reached your voicemail and just hung up. You’re a little relieved, but that’s not the point. Forget the call! Forget the orgasm! What is Jimin talking about?
Jimin starts giggling, “Jungkook spilled the beans to me, actually.”
Jungkook? What? How does he know? You feel that you’re missing a big piece of information that Jimin is withholding from you and even Yoongi.
You grab Jimin’s arms, flipping him onto his back until you’re on top of him and straddling his thighs. Jimin’s eyes are agape confused by your sudden quick movements. You've always managed to over power him with your strength, which he has always admired. In a different scenario similar to that of an erotica novel, this would lead to steamy sex, however now you’re trying to get him to spill whatever he knows.
“Now tell me everything you know, Park!”
—————————————
October 13th [Sunday] — past —
 "Are you good, Jimin?"
Jimin, caught off guard while deleting pictures and Irene's contact from his phone, replied, "I'm fine. It was long overdue anyway." 
The purple lighting added an mystic ambiance to the conversation.
After Jimin broke up with Irene and she decided to leave the party, Jungkook entered the hallway where Irene had just left Jimin standing, eyes wide from witnessing their breakup. Jungkook, clearly a bit more talkative than usual due to the alcohol, casually put his arm around Jimin, concern etched in his features.
Clearly intoxicated, Jungkook's chattiness took a turn towards your direction. "So what finally got you to do it? Was it her?" He gestured towards you across the room, engaging in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi. Jimin’s gaze fixed on you in an endeared way, admiring the way you glowed and laughed while conversing with the two men. He admitted, "Maybe." Interrupting abruptly, Jungkook said, "Well, you better start making moves before it's too late, Jiminie, because—" He immediately covered his mouth, realizing he was about to spill something he shouldn't. "Because what? What are you talking about?" Jimin questioned, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety. Was there someone else already pursuing you? His mind raced, wondering if it was JB or someone else. He wouldn't let Jungkook leave without answers. The younger boy was suddenly sweating, eyes looking around for an escape to exit the scene he unintentionally created. "You better fucking spill, Jeon! I'm not letting you leave until you tell me." Jimin threatened, his voice a mix of sweetness and poison. Jimin is one of the scarier members in the house, so frankly, Jungkook was fucked if he stayed silent. The younger boy sighed, finally relenting, “Okay, fine. But will you please, please, PLEASE promise me you won’t get mad with what I’m about to tell you.” Rolling his eyes, Jimin held his pinky up, "Yes, I promise." 
Sealing the promise with a pinky swear. Of course he won’t be mad, he thinks. How bad could it even be? "Okay, well, uh, do you remember last Friday when we couldn't have game night because the majority of us had plans except for honey and Yoongi hyung?" Jimin nodded, prompting Jungkook to continue. "So, um, they went to the Gamma party." Jimin eyed him curiously. "A party? So they lied about having a game night somewhere else. Interesting, keep going."
"Okay thought the only reason I know that is because my friend Yugyeom told me! I didn't know they went together. But when I came home earlier that Friday night since I wasn't feeling well…I...uh...I heard sounds."
"Sounds? What sounds—" It took Jimin a full minute to catch on to what Jungkook was hinting at, the realization dawning on him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Fucking. They were fucking? No way. Yoongi was the one least likely out of the three of them to ever make moves on you first. Jimin had always assumed that even someone like Jungkook would've made the first move, especially since he had a minor crush on you last year. Not in a million years would he had thought Yoongi would do it.
"Are you being serious with me right now?" Jimin leaned into Jungkook, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit.
"Yes, the fuck? Do you think I would be lying to you?!" Jungkook defended himself, his tone firm and resolute. "No, this is just so insane. But wait, are they dating or something?" Jimin cut to the chase, seeking clarification.
Jungkook sighed, "I don't think so. I think they're still friends, but I haven't heard them do it since that time. So I don't know if it's anything more serious or just a one-night thing."
"Interesting."
"So you're not mad?"
"Nope. If they're still friends and maybe doing that on the side, I still have a chance."
"Jimin." Jungkook looked at his close friend, appalled that he would even say that.
Jimin continued to blabber out his thoughts, "I wouldn’t even mind if we’re both taking turns fucking her if he was done. Hell, maybe get Namjoon in on this too if he wants."
"JIMIN."
"Oh, sorry." Jimin paused as Jungkook cut him off, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. The alcohol had also exposed his inner desires, which wasn't entirely surprising. The house knew Jimin was adventurous in the sheets, but Jungkook hearing and know all these details made him rethink the life decisions that had led him to this peculiar group of people.
 "But it seems they're being lowkey about it, so please," Jungkook implored, grabbing Jimin's shoulders and towering over him. "For the love of God, don't tell anyone you know what I just told you."
"I won't! Lips are sealed!" Jimin grinned, miming the action of zipping his lips and locking them with an invisible key.
 Jungkook sighed, looking down at the older boy. He knew Jimin was a wild card, and the revelation of your situation with Yoongi could indeed flip the whole house upside down. He hoped Jimin would exercise discretion and make wise decisions with the new info he had been given, in a rather seductive manner, threatened to spill.
———————————
"Holy fuck..." you mumble curses under your breath as Jimin explains his story from weeks prior.
 He ends it by explaining his decision to find you soon after to start planting ideas in your head, like that birthday kiss wish. He admits to acting like nothing happened afterward, just to see you stressed out, fully aware of how well he knew you.
You couldn't help but berate yourself for not checking everyone's location the night you got home from the party and fucked Yoongi. While you weren't exactly in you right mind, you were still rational enough to want what you did with him. Yet, you seemed to have missed the fact that Jungkook had entered the house while the deed was taking place. Maybe you’ll need to treat him to some bubble tea as an apology.
"I have a lot of questions to ask you, but one I should ask right now is, are you two dating?" He inquires, a mix of concern and curiosity in his voice.
You know the answer to this question is an obvious ‘no’, yet for some reason, a part of you wishes it wasn't. Before you can overthink it, you answer, "Nope. We're just...you could say, best friends with benefits?"
"And it's nothing serious?" Jimin inquires further.
"Well…no. We’re just…fucking each other?" Jimin looks at you waiting for you to continue with the new info drop you’re giving him. “It’s a long story…” 
You really don’t want to get into the nitty gritty details about this right now. It would take all night and you know Jimin would jokingly call you an idiot for crafting up such an interesting friends-with-benefits deal with Yoongi just because you didn’t like that he and Namjoon were distancing themselves due to their relationships. Even thinking about that now, you’re not sure why you were so incredibly eager to do that.
"Good,” He answers right away, catching you off guard. “So I don't have to feel bad for doing this to hyung." He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Confused, you look at Jimin until he playfully flips you back onto the bed, kissing up your neck. This back-and-forth banter reminds you of the playful wrestling you two engaged in as middle schoolers, only now the context is entirely different.
With gentle but firm hands, he takes hold of each of your wrists and presses them against your sides, keeping you in place. Before you can fully understand what’s going on, Jimin leans down and ducks his head under your skirt. His warm breath sends shivers down your spine as he wastes no time in flicking his skilled tongue against your already sensitive clit. You squirm against his grip on your wrists, desperately wanting to move your dress up to get a better view of him pleasuring you. The anticipation and desire building inside you is almost unbearable as he continues to expertly bring you closer to ecstasy with every flick of his tongue.
“Do you want me to stop?” He breathes out sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. 
“Don’t you dare, Park!” You reply in a haste, breaking your wrists free of his grasp.
With a light force, you push his head down, feeling giddiness within you as he eagerly obliges, his tongue zigzagging through your slick folds. His hands run up and down your thighs adding to the array of sensations coursing through your body. Your head falls back while your back arches in response to the one finger he uses to circle your entrance. 
But as Jimin continues to suck, lick, and kiss your wet pussy with expert precision, you suddenly become aware of how uncomfortable your once cute angel wings are in this situation. Frustrated by their presence, you sit up just enough to rid yourself of the accessory, determined to fully enjoy the pleasure that Jimin is bringing you. His tongue works wonders on your sensitive skin, earning breathy moans from your lips. It's almost as if you can feel him smirking against you, his teasing movements only adding to the intense sensations enchanting you.
Jimin's hand slides under your ass, gripping and squeezing before he emerges from under your skirt. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand with a sly grin, your own heart fluttering in response. As he sits back on his feet, you reach for the button on his pants, eager to feel him against you. Your breath hitches as you trace the outline of his cock through his pants, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of tasting him. In your drunken state, it takes you longer than usual to unbutton his pants and push down his boxers.
Finally free, Jimin's cock springs up, throbbing and ready for you to please him. You wrap your fingers around him, stroking lightly as you watch his reaction. His lips part as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes never leaving your face. Without hesitation, you dip your head and take his tip into your mouth.
“Are you sure you want to—” Jimin begins cutting himself off when your tongue begins swirling around his tip before sinking further, taking more of his length into your mouth. You’re definitely more than sure, you think.
With cheeks caving in and a steady rhythm, you expertly slide his dick in and out of your mouth, eliciting a song of pleasure from Jimin's pretty lips. Just when he's getting close to the edge, you pop your mouth off with a teasing grin, drawing a desperate whine from Jimin's mouth.
As much of a tease as he is, you would think he could handle some himself. With a devilish smirk, he guides you onto your back again before standing to remove his pants. As he grinds his naked cock against your slick folds, every cell in your body screams for him to just fuck into you already. 
“Jimin, please!” You whimper, taking his cock in your hand and stroking.
“What do you want, Y/N?” He asks smirking like he knows you might be hesitant to ask for what you want. 
“You.” 
With that he stands searching for a condom in his pants before muttering curses. Jimin turns to Matthew’s bedside table, opening the top drawer first and finding what he was looking for. Also some things he wasn’t looking for. He holds up a whip thinking he is learning so much about his friend that he doesn’t want to know.
“Next time.” Jimin says with a wink and you can feel your face flushing despite the situation. This is definitely a premonition for something to come and you don’t know whether to be excited or scared.
With a swift motion, Jimin tears open the condom packaging using his teeth and expertly rolls it onto himself. He positions himself between your legs and lines up with your entrance, pushing in slowly and groaning at the ease of his entry.
And once he finally enters, it feels like pure ecstasy.
A curse tumbles from your lips as he reaches the hilt and holds himself there for a moment, savoring the tightness.
Unable to resist any longer, he leans over and captures your lips in a heated kiss as his hips begin to rock back and forth. The pace is anything but gentle, as if he's releasing all the pent-up sexual tension and frustration that has built up over the years. Jimin breaks away from the kiss, leaning back to thrust into you with even more force. Your body arches off the bed in response, and you can't help the moans and cries that escape your mouth.
"Do you want everyone to hear you?" His voice is laced with pleasure and teasing as his fingers dig into your hips, urging you closer to him.
“Oh, is that what you’re into?” You indulge him with your words, biting your lip in pleasure.
“Let’s talk about that another time.” Jimin laughs before he leans down to capture your lips again, his tongue pushing through and tasting all of you. His hips continue to thrust into you and the friction mixed with his tongue and warm breath is almost too much for you to take. 
He thrusts into you with a fierce force, causing your whole body to jolt and your nails to dig into the sheets. Jimin flips you onto your stomach and kneads your ass with strong, experienced hands. You let out a small whimper as he positions himself on his hands and knees behind you.
Without warning, two of his fingers slip inside of you, stretching you in a way that makes you press your face into the soft mattress beneath you. For several seconds, Jimin drills his fingers in and out of you, making you moan in pleasure before you quickly cover your lips.
Just when you think you can't take it anymore, Jimin pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock back inside of you with one swift motion. His length is hitting new angles in this position, rebuilding the pleasure that was torn away from you earlier. 
Jimin's hand comes down hard on your ass, giving a satisfying slap, before he lets you take charge. After a few moments of adjusting, you find a rhythm that elicits intoxicating sounds from deep within his throat. You are completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure when suddenly, a faint crackle fills the air behind you followed by the unmistakable scent of peach.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you shift your gaze over your shoulder to see Jimin taking a hit from a familiar vape pen – one that you've seen in Matthew's hands many times before. All movement halts as confusion washes over your face before quickly being replaced by desire once again when Jimin resumes thrusting his cock into you lazily as if it’s an afterthought. 
“Jimin! Are you seriously vaping right now? And using Matthew’s pen!?” Your eyes widen as you watch him take another hit from the small device. He’s so unserious at a time like this, but it’s somehow attractive. He’s so hot.
Jimin exhales a thick cloud of smoke and then tosses the vape onto the other side of the mattress with a mischievous glint in his eye. He snickers while glancing at you and your amused expression. His strong hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deep inside of you, sending shivers down your spine.
And just when you think things couldn't get any more wild, Jimin blows out a stream of smoke and shapes it into a playful heart with his fingers, making you burst into giggles.
 "Don't worry about it, angel." he says with a innocent grin before diving back to fucking you deep in Matthew’s mattress. This man is really hustling you with the same nickname Yoongi gave you… fuck.
He picks up the pace pounding into you, filling the air with the sound of your pleasure and skin slapping together. Heat is pooling in your stomach bringing you back to the brink of orgasm. 
With a low growl, Jimin pulls away pulling you up to kiss your lips hungrily. He guides you onto your back and pulls your legs onto his shoulders. Heat and electricity surge through you as he effortlessly moves your legs onto his shoulders, positioning himself between them.
Jimin’s dick slides in easily and perfectly into the warm embrace of your body.  The sensation is overwhelming as he rubs his thumb expertly over your clit, setting fire to every nerve ending in your body. You bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.
Jimin's head falls back, lips parted in pleasure as he rides the waves of ecstasy building within him. Your best friend looks like a dream, with sweat glistening on his skin and his brows furrowed in concentration. And all of this pleasure is because of you.
His brow scrunches together when you clench your pussy around him, and it only fuels his desire further. He runs his finger quickly over your clit without resistance, thanks to the soaked state he’s left you in. His actions soon send you tumbling over the edge into pure blissful orgasm. Your toes curl and your legs shake as Jimin carefully removes them from his shoulders, leaving a soft kiss on the side of your leg.
As he pulls out and removes the condom, you watch curiously as he jerks himself off with one hand while looking at you lying completely spent and disheveled before him. It doesn't take long for hot ribbons of cum to spill from him and land on your legs, creating an erotic mess.
But the mood quickly shifts as Jimin loses his balance and falls onto the wet spot, making a mess of the sheets. You grab his hand and pull him upright, both of you bursting into a fit of giggles at the ridiculousness of the moment you two are in.
Surveying your wet patch on the sheets mixed with Jimin's own release, you can't help but laugh even harder. In this moment, there is no one else in the world but the two of you, lost in each other's company and overcome with pure joy. 
"Fuck, we made a mess of Matthew's sheets," Jimin exclaims, looking down with panic.
"Huh? Oh shit!" You quickly get up, hastily fixing your outfit before darting into the closet, searching for extra clean sheets. Oh he’s going to be so pissed his marketing class team members just fucked on his bed.
Your eyes light up as you find your solution on the top shelf. "Jimin, please help me take off those sheets and put them in a basket or something! I need to put these clean ones on, and...how are we going to sneak them into the washing machine so he doesn't see or smell them!" 
Panic takes over your tone, and Jimin finds amusement in your flustered state.
The two of you hurriedly set about cleaning up the evidence of your sex session, trying to maintain a semblance of order in Matthew's room. As you wrestle with the sheets, Jimin can’t help but chuckle at the comical situation unfolding before him. "I'll take care of the rest, darling," Jimin assures, placing his hand on your bare shoulder. "The majority of this house is drunk or stoned, so a guy carrying a bunch of sheets downstairs into the laundry room isn't going to spark obvious suspicion." He chuckles, in a way that sounds like what you imagine an actual angel to laugh like. "You should get your stuff and go back out to your friends. Tell me all the details about your thing with hyung tomorrow.” He pauses a bit before continuing “Talk to hyung too..something tells me that his sixth sense is aware."
Your tense shoulders deflate in slight relief, until they tense up once again at the thought of talking to Yoongi about this. You nod at Jimin, "Okay, I trust you'll do some 'Jimin Magic' and fix this, so I'm going now. I'll talk to Yoongs too, so, see you at home?"
"See you at home, love."
The endearing nickname, the same one Yoongi gave you, somehow gives off a different vibe when Jimin uses it. You can’t pinpoint why and decide not to dwell on it right now. Exiting the room, you head downstairs, pulling out your phone to type a message to Yoongi.
You [12:58 PM]: Sorry I couldn’t answer your call Yoongs.You [12:58 PM]: When you come back, can we talk?
+++++++++++++++++++++
November 5th [Monday]
Yoongi arrives at the airport early that morning, greeted by the sight of you waiting by the curb with Jimin's car with the trunk open. He smiles as he places his luggage in the trunk, appreciating the effort you made to pick him up. After a brief moment of pleading, you convince Yoongi to take the driver's seat since you are hesitant about driving Jimin's fancy car. Without much resistance, he agrees, and you settle into the passenger seat.
"So where to, princess?" Yoongi teases, catching you off guard with the nickname.
"Princess?!" You sputter, cheeks reddening. "You’re clearly the passenger princess here," He says, gesturing to your seat and chuckling.
"D-Damn, you just got back, and you already got me good, Min." You laugh, using your hands to cover your flushed cheeks. "Anyways, I was thinking of going to the breakfast place on Main Street." 
You take your phone, perched on the dashboard, to navigate Yoongi on the road.
"Is this also where we're going to discuss what you wanted to talk about?"
You take a moment before responding, "Yeah, there was something we may have overlooked in our rules while I was too busy sealing the deal by giving you a blowjob." You shyly admit, your gaze focusing on the road as he starts to drive.
"I think I know what you mean." Yoongi chuckles, using his right hand to pat your head, reassuring you about the upcoming conversation. 
The two of you change the topic for the time being, deciding to wait until you are at the restaurant to delve into the important discussion. The anticipation lingers in the air, adding a layer of tension to the otherwise casual breakfast outing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It would be a lie to say that you’re not nervous to be having this conversation with Yoongi. It’s odd. You’ve never been this nervous about talking to him. It’s always been easy to approach Yoongi when it comes to difficult topics compared to your other besties. He always takes a more logic or reason-based approach rather than letting his feelings consume him. He’s the Yin to your Yang. When you tend to let your feelings get the best of you, he always comes to ground you with reason. Come on, Y/N. It’s a simple conversation. He’ll understand, right? Nothing can go wrong.
"So, we need to establish a new boundary in our agreement…" You finally let yourself begin, taking a bite of your blueberry pancakes.
"And the reason behind this is because..." Yoongi prompts after swallowing a piece of his bacon and spinach omelet that just arrived at the table.
Sitting on the restaurant's patio, shielded from the sun by a patio umbrella and surrounded by a variety of plants, you and Yoongi engage in a conversation. Despite it being November, it is comfortable enough to eat outdoors. You prefer the open space to avoid the risk of eavesdroppers inside the restaurant.
You fiddle around with your pancake, breaking the silence with, "Okay, you remember our talk about communication and our friends-with-benefits arrangement..."
Yoongi nods, signaling for you to continue with your confession. A momentary hesitation lingers, aware that Yoongi values straightforwardness without any sugar coating. This isn’t just about the communication rule; it is a characteristic of how he deals with everyone, especially you.
You sigh, making a deliberate effort to meet his gaze, conveying the sincerity of your words. "Well, I may have done something last week on Halloween...consensually, of course." Your eyes briefly wander, finding solace in a purple flower still blooming despite the season.
“You had sex with someone else?” “Yeah…” You continue, words carefully releasing from your lips from the anxiety. “I had debated that whole night before this encounter whether getting involved in this would break our agreement, but then I realized we never even discussed exclusivity.” You turn your gaze back to Yoongi, noting the firm expression on his face. However, his eyes betray a different story—they looked slightly glassy and sad. Despite this, he remains silent, leaving his thoughts unreadable. You hesitate to delve into what he might be feeling, fearing the unknown and the potential overthinking it could trigger.
Why did the weight of this situation suddenly hit you so hard? You aren’t in a relationship with Yoongi, yet it feels like cheating on him. In the past few days, you actively avoided confronting these conflicting emotions, aiming to shield yourself from the potential consequences. If you did, you probably would’ve tried to hide it in fear of the possibility of hurting him until you couldn't hide it anymore. But deep down, you know that wouldn't have lasted long; hiding anything from him is an impossible feat when he knows you so well.
"Would you mind if I asked who it was?" Yoongi inquires firmly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." His eyes look into yours reassuringly.
Although you're not obligated to share, you feel it is only fair to Yoongi that you reveal the truth. Keeping it from him would likely make you feel even worse. You are aware that Jimin, to some extent, also feels a level of remorse for this shared encounter, despite his enjoyment in the moment.
"It was Jimin." You reply in a similar tone, keeping your gaze fixed on Yoongi. A brief silence settles over the small space that contains you and Yoongi, feeling like it lasts a century. You decide to add on, “Jimin also found out about us, from Jungkook, actually.”
Yoongi’s eyes flickered in confusion at the added revelation. A thousand more questions popped onto his mind. Did he tell more people? But he figured Jungkook was smart enough to not blabber about this to anyone unless he was be forced it cough it up, by none other than Jimin. And it didn’t seem like anyone else knew, yet at least. 
Finally, he sighs lowly, shifting his gaze down to his remaining food while rubbing his left temple. "Okay. Well shit, that was an oversight in our deal. I admit it."
Yoongi has pondered the possibility before, but he hasn't considered it a significant issue. Especially given his more prominent concern over JB, rather than Jimin, who was with Irene up until a few weeks ago. Namjoon is another factor that lingers in his thoughts since you ran after him when he and Jihyo broke up, but he seems to maintain a distance from anything too intimate with you. At least, from what he’s seen.
Jimin must’ve questioned you and made you realize on that oversight in the deal. Leading to what happened. Thought he isn’t sure.
Yoongi looks back at you and offers a smile, a gummy grin that makes you feel undeserving in this moment. "I don't know what you and Jimin did that led to that point, but don't feel bad. You did just as we agreed after all."
"No, I should've told you either way before that happened."
Yoongi internally wants to scoff. What could he have said if you had texted him about planning to hook up with Jimin that night he wasn't there? ‘Have fun? Let me know how it goes?’ The truth is, he’s in love with you. He wouldn’t be able to say that shit without it eating away at him. He cares about you and Jimin so much, and the thought of receiving a text from one of his best friends, that he’s in love with, saying they are going to fuck another one of his best friends, who he also cares about a lot, feels like a very fucking hard pill to swallow
Opting for a chuckle instead, he replies, "Yeah, but I'd rather not know about that." His attempt at lightening the mood is a feeble defense against the complex emotions swirling within him.
You look at him puzzled, uncertainty clouding your expression. Fuck, were you not supposed to say that? Did you fuck up that bad? Your mind raced with doubts; you thought communication should’ve been key.
"I'm so sorry, Yoongi." You apologize, the tightness in your chest growing as you witness his altered demeanor.
"It's fine." He responds in a feeble voice. Despite his words, you can’t shake the feeling that things aren’t as okay as he claims. The remainder of breakfast unfolds in silence. Soon after, Yoongi signals the waiter for the bill, pays it, and both of you make your way back to the car, driving home in a heavy atmosphere.
You offer to help Yoongi with his luggage when you open the trunk, but he signals with his hands that he has it covered. Walking inside together, a quiet heaviness lingers in the air. Before entering his room, Yoongi turns to address you one last time that day.
"Y/N, I'm going to need some time," He states, his words carrying a weight that mirrors the unresolved tension between you.
You sigh quietly, "I understand."
As he enters the room, the door closes with a deliberate yet not overly loud slam. It resonates enough to signify that he needs this space to process the revelations and emotions stirred by the day's unfolding events. Left standing in the hallway, you can’t help but wonder how this will impact the dynamics of your relationships with both Yoongi and Jimin in the days to come.
Back in your room, you throw yourself onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow in frustration. The weight of the situation presses down on you. You don’t know how long it will take for Yoongi to process. You’ve never really fought with Yoongi before compared to Jimin and Namjoon. Any disagreement you’ve had with Yoongi was very minor, like firmly saying strawberries are better than tangerines. Even during times when you’ve upset each other before, you two would quickly resolve things, whether it was through a heart-to-heart talk or food. Food is always the friendly option in a ceasefire between you all.
But this situation is entirely new and different, when will that happen…if it does?
You wouldn’t blame him if he decides it's best to end this agreement with him once and for all. Would you even want it to end? 
You’re not sure if that’s what you want him to do.
++++++++++++++
In the evening, you meet up with your marketing class team in the library to continue working on your group project. Jin has a Kappa Psi Pi board meeting, and Matthew has an intramural basketball match, leaving you, Hwasa, and Jimin to tackle the remaining tasks for the night. After completing the slide deck, Hwasa, with a midterm to study for, finishes her part of the work and heads back to her dorm.
Now, it's just you and Jimin in this small study room, working on the paper portion of the assignment.
Jimin has been sensing that something isn’t right since you entered the room earlier. He knows you were supposed to be talking to Yoongi today about the events at the Halloween party. By the looks of it, he doesn’t think the talk went well. He decides to ask you about it.
"So, how did the talk with Yoongi hyung go?" Jimin inquires, his eyes reflecting genuine concern for your well-being. Despite your attempts to stay strong throughout the day, Jimin's question finally shatters your exterior. Tears stream down your face as sobs escape uncontrollably. The intensity of your emotions surprises you, and you struggle to pinpoint the exact reason behind this overwhelming surge of despair. After all, it was your choice to have sex with Jimin that night; there was no commitment or exclusivity with Yoongi to tie you down to him. You’re not dating each other. Yet, witnessing his saddened and upset expression has an inexplicable impact on your heart, leaving you burdened with an empty pit filled with guilt. What kind of friend are you, using him for sex and moving on to the next when he’s not around? You didn’t even have the audacity to at least tell him beforehand.
“Hey, hey,” Jimin gets up from his seat soon after the first tears fall and wraps you in a tight hug that cradles your head in his hands. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.” he reassures you, giving you a smile of encouragement as you nod, trying to control your sobs.
You pull away from him, taking a long breath, you open your mouth and finally speak again. “H-He said he wants to take some time away from me…I think he actually hates me…” You continue to sob.
 It feels dumb somehow to be crying when you were the one who let everything happen with Jimin. It also feels dumb that you pushed this friends-with-benefits idea to Yoongi, only to be the one to hurt him as you failed to make rules that wouldn’t have you questioning them.
”Oh honey,” Jimin pulls you into another hug again.  “Yoongi can’t stay mad at you forever. He’s literally like your soulmate. You guys are so alike, and I know he feels heartbroken to do this too. I feel like he’ll come around soon.” The doubt lingers in your voice as you question through sobs, "You really believe that?"
"Of course I do!" Jimin pulls away, gazing directly into your eyes with sincerity. He wipes your tears away with the sleeves of his purple hoodie. His words act as a reassuring remedy for your overwhelmed mind. Maybe he's right; Yoongi will come around. You're just overthinking everything, scared because you've never faced this kind of thing before. But looking back at your past, you managed to overcome obstacles and reach resolutions, right?
Your mind drifts to your past relationship with Yeonjun, the one time you weren't able to do that. 
You don't want to end up in the same situation, growing strained from your best friend.
With a heavy heart, you and Jimin manage to compose yourselves and finish up some of the remaining parts of the project that night in the small study room. The weight of everything lingers in the air, and as you both head home, your thoughts continue to bother you. The uncertainty of when you and Yoongi will be able to speak to each other again weighs heavily on your mind, leaving you in a state of contemplation and anticipation.
++++++++++++++ November 16th [Friday]
The lingering tension between you and Yoongi seems to magnify with each passing day. The unspoken unease hangs in the air. As the days progress, a noticeable distance grows between you and Yoongi, creating an emotional chasm that neither of you seems eager to bridge.
Yoongi usually wakes up early before you and makes breakfast before you two head off to campus to go wherever you need to go. However, after Monday, he wakes up early, eats and leaves campus without you. Even in the evenings, when he comes home from classes or work, he barely mutters a single greeting before he scurries to his room. Luckily, because everyone has been busy with studying for midterms, no one questions his change in behavior.
However, the lack of any effort of communication from Min Yoongi starts to raise concern from Jimin.
He knows how Yoongi is like a soulmate to you, and reassures you that he can’t be upset for too long. But now it’s Friday evening, 11 days since you last genuinely talked to Yoongi. Too long. Jimin feels like he needs to get more involved since you getting into this mess was very much his fault. He cares about Yoongi, and while he too, loves you, this wasn’t fair of him to do.
There’s also the friends-with-benefits deal that you and Yoongi have. He still has many questions about how and why it even happened, which you have yet to really answer. The one thing he’s sure about is that he senses that neither of you want to end it despite this strain he caused. 
There's also a part of him feeling bitter at the thought of just continuing his life knowing his best friends are sleeping with each other until God knows when. Will this eventually lead you guys to date and eventually marry each other? Is this how Jimin will lose the girl he’s been interested in for years? He trusts Yoongi with his and your life as well, but he doesn’t like the thought of just letting Yoongi end up with you. What if there was a solution that could satisfy everyone in this situation? Jimin, being the wild card he is, comes up with an idea.
Determine to address this conflict, he approaches Yoongi's room and knocks on the door. "Hyung, can you come out?"
Evening falls, and the house that has been a hub of laughter and camaraderie now echoing with a quiet solemnity.  Yoongi and Jimin are the only ones home at this time, which is perfect timing for the confrontation. You, Hoseok and Namjoon are gone on a Trader Joe’s run to get more groceries for the house. Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung are gone to compete for the university’s first esports tournament.
Jimin is a bit worried that Yoongi will be stubborn and refuse to open the door. If that happens, he plans to stand outside his window making noise until he decides to open it. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to do that. Yoongi opens the door slightly ajar and looks at the younger man.
"We need to talk." Jimin asserts with a serious tone.
"About?" Yoongi yawns, feigning ignorance as to why Jimin is here. Though, a couple of theories swirl in his mind.
"You know what about!"
Yoongi lets out a groan, opening the door wider and gesturing for Jimin to enter. The room is cast in partial darkness, the ambient glow of LED strip lights on the ceiling and the illumination from Yoongi's laptop the only sources of light. Jimin settles on Jin's bed, positioned across from Yoongi's, as the air becomes charged with the weight of an impending conversation.
"Say what you gotta say, Jimin. I'm not really in the mood to talk." Yoongi responds, his tone carrying a coldness that sets the stage for a tense conversation. He takes a seat on his own bed, exuding an air of detachment.
“Asshole,” Jimin mutters under his breath, biting back the urge to argue. He knows any confrontation might result in an immediate dismissal from the room, cutting off any chance of dialogue. Instead, he pushes ahead with the purpose of his visit.
"Let's both be Y/N’s friends with benefits."
Yoongi's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and disbelief crossing his face. The proposal catches him off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. Out of all the things he was expecting, this was not one of them at all. Did he really hear that right? "Huh? What did you just—"
"You heard me, Yoongi. Let's both fuck Y/N for a period of time, and then make her pick between us."
Yoongi scoffs at the proposition, disbelief etched across his face. Jimin must have lost his mind, he thinks. The competitive antics of their high school days, especially the virginity race, was one thing, but this suggestion takes the cake for ‘insane shit Park Jimin wants to do’. Words fail him momentarily.
"Whoa. Out of all the shit I thought I'd be hearing you out on, this was not one of them."
"What's so crazy about the idea? You're in love with her, aren't you?" Jimin points out.
Yoongi's eyes widen even further, blinking rapidly, and a flush of bright red colors his cheeks as if he were intoxicated. Love. He recalls the way you’d smile at him with those soft pink lips and sparkling eyes whenever you were intrigued with some of the random bullshit fun facts he’d talk to you about. He loves that about you. When he was 11 years old and fixated on marine biology for a period of time, he would talk to you about unique kinds of fish in the vast ocean and you would respond with further questions out of curiosity. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in spending time with him and hearing him out on whatever nonsense he wanted to share. Later on, he started making music because of you. You were the one who went to one of his piano recitals and suggested that he should make his own music. "Yoongi, you really do have so much talent and potential. Wouldn't it be cool if you made your own music and shared that with the world instead of playing pieces that already exist?" you once told him. This advice led him to study music production as a major, with a minor in psychology, driven by the desire to use music as a means of healing—a realization you inspired.
However, was his crush on you over the years that obvious to Jimin? What does that say about everyone else? Do they know? Do you even know how much he is in love with you?
Recalling that Friday night a month ago, he remembers confessing that he had wanted to touch you for so long. Does that revelation linger in your memory, or are you still oblivious to the emotions he has harbored over the years? Now, Yoongi finds himself questioning the sudden proposal of a fuck buddies arrangement and its purpose. Was it merely a distraction from the others, or does it signify something more?
"I am," Yoongi admits to Jimin, prompting a brief silence before he adds, "And what are you trying to say?" "Have you told her?" Jimin presses on.
Reluctantly, Yoongi admits, "No."
"Because you don't want to ruin the friendship we have, right?"
"Exactly."
"Then we're both in the same boat! I like her too, and I haven't told her yet." Yoongi scoffs at Jimin's words, leaving the younger man puzzled. He has been more concerned about Namjoon being the one to potentially sway you away, not Jimin. Until a few weeks ago, Jimin really had seemed committed to his relationship with Irene—a rare occurrence. Jimin usually hops in and out of relationships, so this revelation sounds a bit unbelievable to Yoongi.
Yoongi sneers at Jimin's revelation, disbelief etched in his voice. "You like her too? The guy with the largest body count in this house since high school?"
Jimin responds with a seriousness that belies his usual carefree demeanor. "What's so hard to believe? I've liked her since we were in the last year of middle school together. I was just...scared. So I coped in other ways to move on, but it never worked."
"Scared of telling her and changing our friendship? Welcome to the club." Yoongi sarcastically chuckles, narrowing his eyes at Jimin.
Jimin groans in frustration. "I know you, Namjoon, and I had an unspoken agreement in high school that we wouldn't get involved with her like that, but I think that's out of the window since you two decided to fuck behind our backs. I'm not okay with letting that happen because I like her too. So why don't we become her fuck buddies, and then she picks which one of us she wants to be with?"
"This is fucking ridiculous," Yoongi facepalms at the idea Jimin is proposing. He leans back against the headboard, his expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "We don't even know if she loves us in a romantic sense or if she'd be down to do something like that."
Jimin, undeterred, leans forward, his eyes searching Yoongi's for any sign of agreement. "Then how did you make it happen, huh?" He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his tone. Yoongi, once again, isn't really sure how to answer the question. He takes a deep breath before he spills his own point of view of the situation from weeks ago.
"She was upset because of you and Namjoon being assholes, so I kissed her to distract her from those thoughts, and she kissed me back. Then we just came home and fucked. Then a few days later, she just came up to me while I was TA-ing, saying that she wanted to be fuck buddies. And me, being fully in love with her, agreed. I didn't question her motives nor did I want to."
"I'm guessing you hoped she would eventually start to fall for you through that experience." Jimin comments, a speculative tone in his voice. Yoongi sighs, but nods in agreement. Jimin. finally understanding the sequence of events that led to the being friends with benefits. Though, he wonders about your feelings. Why else would you want to do that with Yoongi?  The same question lingers in his own mind regarding his own actions on Halloween. There has to be underlying feelings that pushed both of you to take such risks. Feelings still left untold by you.
After a bit of contemplation from Yoongi, he finally breaks the silence. ”Mm, I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea, Jimin.” Jimin beams at Yoongi’s words as he continues. "Maybe through this, we could get a definite answer about who she'd rather be with. Then we can finally be free and move on from the feelings we have for her and find other people." Yoongi feels a bit liberated by saying his thoughts. As much as he'd love to keep this up forever, he wants to truly shower you with his uttermost love and affection instead of being bound to the restrictions of this friends with benefits situation. He knows it would hurt both of you in the long run due to uncertainty of your futures. 
"Exactly! So please don't be mad at Honey or me anymore for what happened. I know nothing we do will be able to turn back time to whenever you made your arrangement, but this new agreement will provide more clarity for all of us." Jimin explains, seeking understanding from Yoongi.
"I hate to agree to this, but fine. Let’s try this," Yoongi nods in agreement. "We should talk to her in her room when she gets back."
"Really?!" Jimin's response carries a hint of excitement, slightly more than he intended, prompting a chuckle from Yoongi. "Sounds good." he adds, signaling a tentative step toward resolving their intertwined feelings.
+++++++++++++
You just got home from buying groceries with Namjoon and Hoseok. While you hoped that leaving campus for a bit would take your mind off of Yoongi, it doesn’t prove to be as effective as you want. It’s been days and you don’t really know what to do except wait. Though it’s not easy because in no way are you a patient person. If you didn’t have Jimin or Hwasa to talk to about your struggle, you would’ve been having an agonizing time. Hwasa advised you earlier to do what you felt was best, but you didn’t know what that could be. You care a lot about Yoongi, and seeing him hurt makes you realize you never want to see him in that position again. Is it the best idea to end this arrangement? You don’t really want to do that, and that makes you question things further. Do you actually love him beyond the scope of friends?
As more questions continue to plague your mind, you decide to go up to your room to change into your pajamas after helping unload groceries. 
What you don’t expect to find once you close your door and turn on the lights are Yoongi and Jimin sitting on your bed with their arms crossed.
"Holy fucking shit?!" The exclamation bursts from you in fear, but before you can utter any more words, Jimin hastily shushes you.
"Please shut up before you make the other two downstairs suspicious!" Jimin insists with an aggressive whisper. As he utters those words, Namjoon's voice drifts from downstairs, inquiring if something is wrong.
”Uh, nothing wrong! Just…killed a spider!” You open the door and shout back to him, receiving a nonchalant 'okay' before closing and locking your door this time.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" You whisper, eyeing both men with suspicion, unsettled by their secretive behavior.
"Well, the good news is that Yoongi's not mad at us, right, hyung?" Jimin nudges the older man gently in the side, and Yoongi nods while looking at you.
Your shoulders slump in relief upon hearing and seeing that Yoongi's doing better. "O-Okay, that's great. But I'm assuming there's gotta be something else to this, isn't there?"
Yoongi and Jimin both gesture for you to come sit on the bed so they can speak to you closer and avoid being too loud for anyone else in the house to hear. Yoongi clears his throat. "What I'm about to say might sound crazy, but Jimin proposed this idea that he wants us both to be your fuck buddies."
Similar to Yoongi’s reaction when Jimin spoke to him earlier, your eyes bulge out in shock over his bluntness. Did he really just say that him and Jimin both want to be your fuck buddies. Huh?! What even led them to reach this conclusion and propose this idea to you? While the idea sounds crazy, yet enticing, it definitely sounds too good to be true. They can’t be serious, can they?! What the fuck.
”Hahahahaha!” You find yourself suddenly giggling manically with hints of nervousness laced to your laughs, but then you remember you have to keep quiet so you cover your mouth. They stare at you with confused expressions on their faces. “You guys are joking right? Is this a test of my loyalty or what? I’m trying to understand the motives behind this.”
”We…” Jimin slowly voices out, with hints of hesitation and fear. “We have feelings for you, Y/N.” 
Huh…
Your heart instantly drops to your ass as he finishes his sentence. You stop laughing suddenly and look at them anxiously.
Did Jimin really just say that they both have feelings for you? No way. This new revelation just adds onto the previous questions you had within the last month. You remember when Hwasa said that Yoongi seemed obviously in love with you last year, but you brushed it off by saying he’s being kind to you because you’re his best friend. Maybe she was really cooking with that theory, you think. On the otherhand, Jimin breaking up with Irene, coming to find you right after and kissing you? Could they really think of you beyond being their best friend? Or is this just because we’re horny college students mistaking an orgasm high for something else…
"What...feelings for me? When? How?"
You've been evading the questions Yoongi posed to you on that October night at the GOT party. The notion of being in love with your best friends feels forbidden, but you fear you can't escape those thoughts any longer as you’re being presented with this deal.
"We talked, and we thought this would be a good way to figure out whatever feelings we’ve been struggling with, while also… enjoying ourselves?" Jimin's voice is hesitant as he struggles to articulate this in the most convincing way possible. He's a business student and can't pitch this idea, he screams internally. Well, to be honest, he never thought he'd ever have to pitch this to anyone.
Yoongi cuts in before Jimin could say something else, "I thought he was insane too, not gonna lie. Even hesitated smacking him—"
"Hey!" Jimin uses his elbow this time to smack him in the side, making Yoongi wince.
"But he had good points. And also, you've been clearly trying to figure out your feelings since I asked you how you felt about us that one night. Maybe this will help you figure out some of those answers." Yoongi hits the nail with those words, sparking an epiphany within you. As crazy as the idea sounds, maybe this really could help resolve your dilemma. Oh god, you're really about to agree to this.
There's a bit of silence as you glance at both of them. You still have a lot of questions about their alleged feelings for you, but you go ahead and respond, "I-I'm down for the idea."
"You are?!" Both men say in unison, each with a different tone.
"Yeah, but we just really have to set better boundaries this time so we don't end up in another fight. Please." You look at them with pleading eyes, hoping to avoid another conflict with them. They exchange glances and nod in agreement.
Yoongi clears his throat, breaking the momentary silence. "Alright then, let's establish some to make sure we don't mess things up again." He leans back on his palms, breaking into a smirk. "Rule number one, we need to be brutally honest with each other. No cryptic messages, no hidden meanings. Just straight talk, yeah?"
Jimin, slouching comfortably, nods, "Yeah, I like that. We could also add a rule on emotional check-ins. We’re still best friends at the end of the day, so we gotta make sure we’re all doing this and we’re feeling good about it. And if any of you are having doubts, we need to discuss it, like hyung said."
"Oh! That’s a good one!” You add, tapping your fingers on your knee, trying to think of something else. “Transparency is kinda similar to Yoong’s idea, but just want to add that so we don’t keep secrets from each other. I’m going to be sleeping with both of you, but we don’t have to stay exclusive if you don’t want to. Just let me know whatever booty calls you decide to have and I’ll let you know too. Don’t think I will have any more though!” You laugh lightly, trying to brighten up the atmosphere from this tough conversation.
You know you’ll be plenty occupied being filled by 2 men, so the thought of someone else filling up another slot doesn’t cross your mind right now. Maybe it does, but you’re actively trying to avoid thinking about it too hard. That person would make things more complicated than these two.
Yoongi nods silently in agreement while Jimin responds, "Yeah, I agree with that. I don’t think we’ll get involved with anyone else because we’re trying to settle this, but we’ll keep the rules in mind,”
“Any other stuff we're missing?" Jimin continues, staring at both of you before he clears his throat to speak up, “Well, it’s time to bring up my grand idea to make things more exciting: experimentation. I don’t know if you two had something like that.” Well, it was mentioned, but you guys didn’t do anything too crazy besides the blowjob in Mr. Kang’s office and the mirror sex. Otherwise, things were pretty tame. You exchange glances with Yoongi, both intrigued and wary. "We kinda did, but we didn’t really do much. What kind of things are you suggesting we experiment." The idea excites you, injecting a thrill into arrangement, yet beneath the excitement lurks a hint of nervousness. The unknown territory of experimentation sparks curiosity, but you wonder how it will affect the dynamic between you three. What things could they both even suggest? "You'll find out soon," Jimin says, a deep smile forming, his eyes transforming into crescent moons. It sends a shiver down your spine—this man is undeniably dangerous. "But, of course, consent is crucial in whatever we do. And protection! We'll use condoms, and it's up to you if you wanna use birth control. I know it sucks for you guys."
You’re glad Jimin is aware of the complications of women’s birth control and is considerate of your needs. The birth control idea is something you'll need to think about, but it does spark a tinge of fear to use it. Though, there is something you wanted to try out and that would require you on birth control. You’ll see.
“Would a group chat between us be good to stay up to date or whatever?” Yoongi suggests. You and Jimin hum and nod in agreement. Yoongi begins setting it up, naming it 0309x1013. Right after he does that, he looks up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Now, we gotta seal the deal somehow," 
You look at him innocently, "Seal the deal? How?" You of all people know how this went last time with Yoongi, but you want to hear from them this time.
Both Yoongi and Jimin exchange a knowing glance, and then Jimin speaks up, "How about with a kiss?"
Your eyes widen in surprise. The thought of a kiss catches you off guard, especially with the awareness that Namjoon and Hoseok could come up any minute to randomly check on you. You might not have enough time, and you realize you all need to act quickly.
"Are you sure we should do that, what about them?" you ask, a mix of curiosity and nervousness in your voice as you point out to the two men downstairs
"It’ll be fine!" Jimin shrugs, “We’ll be quick,”
"Yeah, and the kiss will make it official," Yoongi adds, his gaze still fixed on you.
You take a moment to assess the situation. The idea of sealing the deal with a kiss feels surreal, but you can't deny the underlying excitement. Glancing at the clock, you calculate the time left before Namjoon and Hoseok might come by to check on you since you haven’t returned downstairs. You did mention wanting to watch a movie with Namjoon after they finished putting groceries away. Shit.
"Okay," you say, a hint of a smile forming. "But make it quick. We don't want any unexpected guests."
The three of you lean in, creating a makeshift circle on your bed. The atmosphere is charged with a blend of anticipation and curiosity as the prospect of this unusual arrangement takes a concrete step forward.
As Yoongi and Jimin lean in to kiss your cheeks, the gesture feels surprisingly tender, a prelude to what's to come. Yoongi places a gentle kiss on your left cheek, while Jimin follows suit on the right. The air seems to crackle with a newfound intensity. Your heart is beating fast, and for some reason, you can sense that things are about to take an unexpected turn.
Just when you thought it would end there, Yoongi's actions catch you off guard. After planting a sweet kiss on your cheek, he quickly redirects his lips to yours with an undeniable hunger. The kiss becomes heated, fueled by a fire that seems to have been lingering beneath the surface. For a moment, you're swept away by the intensity. This kiss feels more intense than the first one you had with him. You find yourselves detaching, breathless as a thin string of saliva still keeps you connected
As you process what the fuck just happened, Jimin seizes the opportunity. With a sly smile, he leans in, taking over where Yoongi left off. The transition is seamless. Jimin's lips, warm and soft, carry a subtle taste of anticipation as they meet yours. The sensation is both thrilling and delicate, creating a vivid contrast to the bold move he just orchestrated. The plushness of his lips melds seamlessly with yours, each movement leaving a lingering lust. Just as you feel yourself get more into it, he lets go of your lips. You’re still stuck in the haze of lust when you suddenly hear the distinct sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Fuck. Panic sets in, dispersing the remnants of horniness as the reality of your situation dawns on you. With a synchronized effort, you and the two men scramble to discreetly rearrange yourselves around the room, attempting to appear less conspicuous. You go into the bathroom.
Just as you manage to compose yourself, a knock echoes through the room, and Jimin swiftly moves to open the door. He opens the door, revealing Namjoon on the other side, you try to suppress the nervous flutter in your chest. Jimin's casual greeting conceals the recent tumultuous events within your room. “Oh! Hyung, hello!” Jimin looks surprised, and smiles.
“Jimin? You’re here,” Namjoon remarks, his gaze briefly darting around the room and sees the other cat-eyed man seated on the floor scrolling on his phone. “Yoongi too? Where’s Y/N?” He’s a little caught off guard by the little club in your room, but nothing too suspicious because you all are best friends.
Yoongi nonchalantly points to the bathroom. “She’s in the bathroom taking a shit.”
You can't help but scoff from behind the closed door, annoyed at Yoongi's less-than-dignified explanation. "I’m not! I’m changing!" you retort, cursing Yoongi silently for his misinformation.
Namjoon lets out an understanding sound. "Well, I have the TV set up so we can watch the movie. You better come down after you finish," he shouts towards your direction before heading back downstairs.
As the coast clears, you slide down against the bathroom door in relief, feeling the weight of the chaotic deal you’re in.
“This is the virginity race all over again, isn’t it?”
Yoongi and Jimin can't help but chuckle at your question from outside the door. Their laughter, in a strange way, reminds you of the random antics you all would get involved in from high school. 
A time when your best friends would orbit your life like planets encircling the sun. Things are really starting to feel back to normal. 
However these grown men now, with their absurd proposal and spontaneous antics, will undoubtedly be the end of you.
tbc :o a/n: still so much left to uncover! holidays are approaching for these peeps, so many questions left unanswered, also NAMJOON. we need more of him so don't worry I'M ON IT! anyone have any thoughts? i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! reblog, like, share with friends!
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a-3racha-household · 2 years
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The following works will be sorted by alphabetical order of their authors and/or blogs they were originally posted from. 
Please be aware that some works may contain content that may be triggering and/or nsfw, reader discretion is advised. Minors please do not interact with works labeled 18+ nor works containing content that is labeled 18+. 
Happy reading.
Clarification of how the description section is formatted/structured: {Genre, Idol’s profession or other details, Reader or OC’s profession or other details, Relationship type if mentioned, any other details contributing majorly to the plot}
Series, complete: o
Series, incomplete: ပ
It’s been brought to my attention that some authors and readers are not comfortable with works involving yandere content. I will be separating all yandere content to different posts. I’m very sorry to have made anyone uncomfortable and apologize deeply for not considering this before posting.
@amethystwritesbts:  
The Wait | JJK | [pining over reader]
@aquagustd​:
 Hell Is Empty | KTH, JJK | {Love Triangle, CEO, Mafia, Single Parent}
@bangtanstanst​:
  Double Trouble | JJK, CY | {Poly, F2L}
@bishuthot​:
  Hidden | JJK | {Hybrid, S2L}
@boulevardk​:
  Summer Solstice | JJK | {Mythology, God}
@bratkook​:
  Deep Six | JJK | {Biker,Series o}
Queen Of Broken Hearts | JJK | {Fuck Girl, Series o)
Rough Hands | JJK | {F/E2L}
Tempo | JJK | {Drummer}
@carameloveskook​: 
You Know Better Than That | JJK | {F2L, Basketball Player, Nerd}
@dayinseoul​: 
An Honest Lie | JJK | {College, F2L, Fake Dating} 
@gimmesumsuga:
Concealed Weapon | JJK | {Established Relationship, Married}
@gukslut:
Rattled | JJK | {Single Dad, Neighbor, E2L, F2L}
@gukyi:
Do You Want Me (Dead)? | JJK | {E2L, Hogwarts)
The Millionaire And His Lover | JJK | {F2L, Fake Dating, CEO}
The Wedding Planners | JJK | {E2L}
@hansolmates:
The Proposal | JJK | {Boss, Proposal, Fake Dating, E2F, F2L} 
@hollyhomburg:
Love Starved | JJK, OT7 | {Headcanon/Drabble}
@inkedtae:
Crema | JJK | {Brothers Best Friend, Curvy}
Eros | JJK | {Greek God}
@jigglyjeon:
Cake | JJK | {F2L} 
Stagnant | JJK | {Hybrid}
@jjungkookislife:
Mr. Jeon | JJK | {Chauffer,  CEO, Series o}
@jungk0oksthighs:
Over The Odds  | JJK | {Sugar DDY, S2L} (there’s a sequel y’all and it’s incredible)
@jungshookz:
lifeguard hours | JJK | {Lifeguard, Drabble/Headcanon}
@junqkook:
Not Quite Lovers | JJK | {Assistant, CEO,}
@kimnjss:
Banana Milk | JJK | {S2L}
Having It All | JJK, PJM, MYG | {Established Relationship, Poly}
Secret Crime | JJK | {College, FWB2L}
Strawberry Kisses | JJK | {Social Media, Rapper, Photographer, Brother’s Best Friend, Series o}
@kinktae:
Bitchin’ | JJK | {1980s, College, E2L}
Knot Today | JJK | {Werewolf, Alpha, Omega, F2L, Roommates}
@kkookies:
Silk | KTH, JJK | {Love Triangle, Series}
@kookiecrumb:
Burn | JJK | {Firefighter}
Needy | JJK | {Hybrid, Alpha, Omega}
@kookiesjoonies:
Terrible Idea | JJK | {Established Relationship}
@kookiestarlight:
My Lucky Stars | JJK | {Established Relationship, Parents}
@kpopfanfictrash:
Friendly Fire | JHS, JJK | {College, F2L}
The Art Of War More | JJK | {College, E2L}
@lemonjoonah:
Shoulder On Which You Cry | JJK, KNJ, MYG | {F2L}
@Masterninjacow
Rivers Over Stones | JJK | {E2L, Roommates, God Parents}
@nochueso:
Rich People Shit | JJK | {Rich Kid, College, S2L}
@pasteljeon:
Shadows | JJK | {Venom}
@personasintro:
Bloody Hell | JJK | {Established Relationship}
@Plummiechim
Soft Alpha | JJK | {Halloween, Werewolf}
@pradaksj:
Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored | JJK | {1920s, Singer}
@praisemyrelijin-blog
Benevolent | JJK | {Venom, Series}
@rosedtae:
Home | JJK | {Fluff, Short Fic}  
@smaubts
Soulmates | JJK | {Social Media, Soulmates, S2L, Series}
@starshapedkookie:
Falling | JJK | {Soulmate, College, Photographer}
Southpaw | JJK | {F2L, College, Childhood Friends, Boxer}
67 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 2 days
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[ 240924 ] back to being okay!
whew, y’all.. the projects really got to your girl😅
remind me to not take on too much ever again!! it has been a whirlwind three weeks and tbh i think i shaved some years off my life from that horrendous non-existent sleep schedule. but i’ve learned a lot and will move forward with much more organized plans.
just wanted to give a quick update on current state, and i am happy to say that i’m excited to get back to writing again. properly this time, not just typing on my phone until i fall asleep at night lmaoooo
❤️‍🩹 so the sept/oct posting schedule is looking like so:
minted2 (90% done)
7days2 (80% done)
heaven (knj oneshot)
[tba] (m?? x reader x j?? halloween oneshot)
🤍 then later in the year:
3tanfugue
3tan13
seamless (myg oneshot)
mami2
letsssss get it! thank you all for being so patient as i bumble through life. your words of encouragement and even curiosity about wips really do help me stay on top of things🫂 truly goes to show to never underestimate the power of a simple comment or ask about what you liked about a fic or your hype about it🥳
note: if you’ve sent me a longer ask/message, i’ll be responding to you once i get back on my laptop! thank you so so much in advance, loves❤️‍🩹
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btswritingcafe · 2 years
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BTSWRITINGCAFE PRESENTS: Welcome to Horrorwood Masterlist
All things spooky are brewing in our cafe! We are honored to share a list of amazing fics written by some amazing people! Please give them all the love for their works below!
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K E Y
fluff [❀] | angst [♛] | smut [❦]
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transitive property bestfriend | jhs ❀
— @toikiii
A questionable halloween party gone wrong lands you with your best friend and his best friend. As a result, you three start a new tradition to spend your halloweens doing something new (and equally as dumb) each year. But one year, one of them can’t make it. you’re stuck dealing with halloween with your best friend’s best friend (who is your best friend by default).
the feeling’s slow to fade | myg ❀ ♛ ❦
— @taleasnewastime
There’s something out there. In the woods. On the streets. In your home. You know it’s there have just never seen it. It starts with one seemingly small death, a bird but builds into bigger and bigger animals. Everyone brushes it off, only you feel the ghost of something following you, only you keep seeing the animals it horrifically kills, only you think something bigger is going on here. But when you start to try and work out what’s happening, it seems the guy who has hated you since school is also taking an interest. The two of you embark on a journey to try and find out why animals are mysteriously dying in your town, discovering things about each other along the way.
to make amends | kth ♛ ❦
— @lokidow-strange-army
He is burdened with the past. You’re simply a reminder. But all you want to do is to make amends.
hungry (for your love) | knj ❀ ♛
— @sunshinerainbowsbts
After a century of slumber, you wake ravenous for your next meal. The first human you stumble across, Namjoon, is a fine choice. You just weren't expecting him to be so cute.
the heart of a demon | ksj ❀ ♛
— @meirkive
“Your roommate just wanted to revive her plants, so how come you have a forked-tongue demon in your kitchen, now?”
the crooked siren | jhs ♛ ❦
— @jeonspub
Everything was serene until I met you, you woken up things inside me that nobody did, you made me go insane even though I didn't know you. Is this what they call a crooked siren?
everything that frightens us | myg ft. jjk ❀ ♛ ❦
— @ffion451
Min Yoongi is a man of seemingly infinite patience but one Halloween at one very extravagant masquerade ball, sorely tests him and he wonders if all secrets are best kept or if he really should admit to all the things that frighten him.
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Thank you to all the lovely individuals who participated!
42 notes · View notes
oftenderweapons · 2 years
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Sugar and Spice | MYG | Ep.5
A Small Town Swoons story
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Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Spice)
Wordcount: 6.2k
Rating: 16+
Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, bartender!Yoongi
Synopsis: Halloween at Ginger’s shows you one more face of the small town you’ve recently moved to. It also shows you one more face of the man you’re growing closer and closer to, Min Yoongi.
Warnings: There’s some mild spice, just a little pda in a crowded bar, behind the counter, where no one seems to be watching. Also, general fondness, nothing explicit. Mild swearing.
A/N: Super late. No, this series is not dead, just comatose, but in my defence this chapter is longer and juicier hehe! This fall I should finally be able to complete with the last 2 updates. Next update will be around Thanksgiving/First week of December (LOL) and the final chapter for Christmas yayyy. Also, unbetaed, so be kind 💜🥰 
Here is my general masterlist! Enjoy 💜✨
Navi: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
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Ginger’s was packed. 
You pressed yourself tighter to counter, the crowd feeling a bit overwhelming. 
You had never grown used to the clubbing scene and the current situation felt a bit too much clubby for your taste. 
Yoongi looked exhausted but he kept going. He pressed forward. Jeongguk kept his pace, carrying drinks atop his head in a tray, moving through the crowd. 
Halloween. 
What a hell of a day. 
Tens of students had taken over the bar, some of them clumsily trying to be invested in the festivity while it was pretty obvious they just wanted to hang out and drink a lot. 
Seokjin was assisting Yoongi while Buttercup was helping Jeongguk. 
Namjoon stood by the entrance, looking very large and very intimidating, checking ID cards and keeping an eye on the room. 
With a little more than ten tables, Ginger would have hosted maybe forty people on its busiest days, but tonight they were easily around sixty — and they would have been more if Namjoon weren’t sending some away, until the place got less packed. 
“Hey, I’m here!” Hoseok reached the front of the bar just in time. “Jimin’s on the way. This must be hell.”
“It is,” Yoongi agreed. “Can we switch, I need the restroom.”
You got out of the way and let Hoseok take Yoongi’s spot behind the counter. 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to—” you interjected. 
“No. I’ll need you later, you can rest for now.” Yoongi slipped away through the crowd.
It was almost midnight and the room had been full for three hours now. 
You desperately wanted to offer Buttercup a break, but it’s not like you knew how the place worked, or what each drink cost or what you were actually supposed to do with orders. 
You looked around, praying for something — anything — to do, beggin Seokjin with your eyes to give you anything, anything do to. 
He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. He threw you a rag next. “Dry the glasses.”
“Oh Lord, thank you,” you swooned, opening the washer’s door and starting to dry a large beer glass.
You were deep into your small task, standing at the back of the counter, when you felt a hand on your hip. “You don’t need to,” Yoongi said loudly at your ear, trying to speak over the chaos of the bar. 
“I want to help,” you objected, trying not to look disappointed at his hand drawing back. You watched it, in all its tattooed glory, reach for his cup of water. He leaned in closer in the process, his chest touching your back. 
You tried not to lean in. Tried. Tried very hard. 
You controlled yourself, but suddenly standing up straight and having a spine felt pointless. You slouched a little against him. 
Yoongi noticed, his cheeks heating at your small gesture. “Are you tired?” His mouth was closer to your ear this time. He tipped his head forward, shielding you from the apocalypse going on in the rest of the room. It was your cocoon, your immaculate haven where he always ended up when he was with you. 
Maybe he wasn’t shielding you, maybe he was just stepping into your safety zone, your intimate space, the halo that seemed to surround you. You radiated the same eternal, vibrant calm that inhabited the woods. 
It was like being back there, among the trees, your hand in his. 
A shiver ran down his spine. 
And he realised where it came from. He felt like a puppet on strings: your index finger was grazing a straight line going from his wrist bone to his elbow.
It was like the room went to twenty below zero only to spark up in a supernova. His entire body was on fire. 
“Yoongi?” You managed to say, not really sure he heard you. 
“What?”
“I asked if you’re tired.” Your hand moved to the inside of his arm. 
His other arm snaked around your waist. It wasn’t him securing you to his chest. It was him leaning on you for stability. 
His knees felt weak. He felt like he would melt to the floor in a minute if you kept up the small, distracted little touches. They seemed so careless, yet so cruelly calculated to make him surrender to the special gravity of your body, to the dark magic of your essence. 
“I asked first,” he managed to bite back, though his voice sounded significantly softer than he had intended. 
“But you look more exhausted.” 
He put down the glass — he hadn’t even tried to drink. “Yes, I’m tired.”
You placed your palm against the back of his hand, your thumb hooked around his, digging at the hollow between his thumb and his index. “Here,” you murmured. 
You felt his face lean against the side of your head. He kind of whimpered. 
“It’s a pressure point,” you tried to explain.
He was still for a few seconds before his right hand left your midriff. An instant later it was nudging your other hand. “This one too,” he mumbled. 
You smiled and he felt it. “It’s okay. Do you need some rest?”
He shook his head. He just needed you. He needed whatever you were doing to him. 
“Do you want me to keep going?” Liquid fire was boiling in your belly and it rampaged wilder when he nodded, his nose digging into your hair, face nuzzling closer to the back of your ear. You could feel his breath, the way he held it before releasing it slowly through his mouth, his lip touching your skin. 
Heat spread between your thighs, the heaviness of arousal so unfamiliar, so confusing, and yet so welcome. 
You moved your thumbs to the center of his palms, rubbing circles into them. 
You had been staring at those hands all night as they gripped, cut, ground, pressed, mixed, and other fancy things you didn’t have a name for — not that the name mattered, they all had been generically categorised into “extremely mundane actions that turn into hardcore erotica when performed by Min Yoongi’s hands”. 
“What if they need you back to work?” you mused, leaning your head closer to him. 
He was lost. He didn’t hear you. He just traced the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose, your skin feeling so magnetic to his lips. It was a mermaid’s call. 
He caved in. 
He felt you shiver against him. 
He couldn’t control himself anymore. 
His lips were laying against the side of your neck, his hands hijacking your massage and turning the tables. It was your hands being held by his now, a delicate tango of fingers and ink. 
Maybe you were wound a bit too tight, but it felt sexual — better than sex, even. Or at least, better than the sex you hadn’t had in a year or so. 
“I wonder if this feels as good as what you did to me,” he wondered, his fingers sliding against the back of your hands and slithering in the valley between each of your digits. And then he pressed against the flesh of your palms, at the base of your fingers.
It took your breath away. 
You didn’t know how long you’d been spooned against each other, you just knew it wasn’t long enough and it was too right. 
“Spice, I’m gonna kiss your neck,” he said. “You’d better tell me now if you don’t want it.”
You didn’t know what to do. Your lips were sealed shut, no way to push words out. 
“I won’t do it unless you say something.”
“But you’re a vampire,” you managed to object, your brain ejecting that inside joke — it must have been some fucking demented fight or flight mechanism activating. 
Yoongi chuckled. “Just a taste, Spice. I’ll be a good boy forevermore.”
Your neck went slack. You tipped your head back, landing on his shoulder. And then his lips met your pulse, just against your carotid. 
He felt your heartbeat flutter and then gallop wild, a beast on the loose. 
His arms wrapped around your middle, his hands still covering yours. He held you tighter as his lips parted and you felt the wet of his mouth. And his tongue. 
You moaned. 
His hips pressed against your behind. 
You felt your brain malfunction. “Yoongi,” you managed to babble, right before you were once more rendered speechless by his teeth caressing the softness of your skin. It lasted a millisecond before he kissed you with his lips again, drying the humid patch he’d left behind. He’d been too kind, too gentle to bruise, but it felt like the skin was ten thousand times more sensitive than before, as if branded in fire.
“You taste delicious, Spice,” he purred. “I have a question for you. Do you think you can answer, sweets?”
You nodded — not because you actually understood anything he’d said, but rather because you’d agree to anything he’d ask of you. You’d give him permission to anything. 
He grinned, probably knowing you were too absent to understand him. “Let’s see. Do you think that a man, once he’s tasted heaven, can live the rest of his life with just a taste of it? Do you think he’ll starve? Or do you think he’ll commit even the most despicable of acts just to have one more taste? Just a tiny morsel…”
You wanted to ask him the same question. Could that tiny morsel, his lips to your neck, ever be enough? Or would you spend the rest of your life wondering what his lips would feel like on your own lips, to the palms of your hands, between your shoulder blades, against your chest, your breasts, between your legs? Would you commit crimes just to have them again?
“Spice?” He called, trying to make you focus. 
“Again, please,” you mouthed the words, not really sure any sound came out. 
He felt his face heat up as he thought about what he would do next. A part of him wanted to give in, another was desperate to step off. He had never played this game before. He didn’t know the rules, he didn’t know the moves, he didn’t know what would make him win. He just played it by ear. He said what he wanted to say the most. 
“No. Just a taste, remember? That was our deal.” He waited for you to sag against him, to feel a little hopeless before he added, “Next time this happens I won’t starve. Next time you’ll be naked and I’ll be too. Next time there’ll be so much skin to kiss. It will be a damn banquet, Sugar.”
He heard you purr, the vibration echoing from your back into his chest. 
He chuckled cruelly. “Back to work.” He let go of your abruptly and you struggled staying upright for a second. 
He stabilised you with a gentle hold of your hips. “Hold steady, Spice.”
And then he was gone. 
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You hadn’t had a drag of a cigarette since your sophomore year of college, but now you were craving one. It was illogical and silly and immature and you were too old, too old for a stupid crush like this.
You had never been a creature of passion. Your previous relationship had been steady and quiet, and now you were crushed in this windmill that threw you from tenderness and comfort to desire and lust. 
And now you wanted, you wanted so much, you wanted, always.
You wanted Yoongi, with his hands made of ink and flesh and bone, you wanted his feather-like fingertips, and then there was the velvety insides of his brain, where he’d let you in so carefully, one room at a time, one song, one text, one book at a time. And the nest of his heart, that gently woven cave, that delicate masterpiece. 
Laughing with Marnie at the diner, drinking spiked hot chocolate with the guys at Ginger’s, Yoongi’s giggles echoing everywhere, Hoseok making him laugh, laugh till his eyes tear up. 
And him, smiling at you. 
Apple pies. Cider. 
And so much love. 
Yoongi was bathed in love. He had so many people around him, who loved him so much, so selflessly, so warmly, without leaving anything out. 
How were you supposed to resist the force pulling you to him when so many had failed, and had found nothing but a devoted friend who gave as much as he’d received, if not more? 
You smoked vicariously, inhaling the thick fog produced by the smokers gathered just outside of the bar. 
“Do you have a lighter?” a stranger asked right before a tattoed hand offered one. 
“Here.” 
You didn’t need to hear the voice to know it wasn’t Yoongi. 
Jeongguk leaned against the wall behind you. “Tough night.”
“Mh.” You stood beside him, turning just a little. “You smoke?”
He pocketed the lighter as it was returned to him. “No. I just keep a lighter on me. Good way to get to meet new people, learn stories, find inspiration.”
You nodded. 
He chuckled, his black eyes glimmering. “It can get a bit dull in a small, comfortable, traditionalist little town like this.” He smiled his signature boyish grin, mixed with the reddening on the very apple of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He looked adorable. 
How was it that everything this town produced ends up being sweet and lovely? 
You'd never had the chance to talk like this with Jeongguk, and the boy was so quiet you were often too wary to address him directly. “How come you haven't moved into a bigger city?” you asked, genuinely curious. 
He shook his head with a little grin. “Not an option.” He looked in the distance and damn, if the entire moment didn’t feel fictional. “And it’s not like I hate it here. I know my roots are here and I’m meant to grow here. I wouldn’t want it any different. Difficult, but not impossible.” Another grin, his hands rubbing together to keep himself warm. “It's us— I mean, us the boys, here. We try to run, but we always come back. And if we run, we don't go far.”
You hummed. “Namjoon and Hoseok don't live here, correct?” 
“Yes, they're ten minutes from here, but it's like they're here most of the time.” Jeongguk shrugged. “Yoongi belonged the moment Ginger dragged him here. He loves this place more than any of us. Because it's Ginger's place, you know. When he arrived I was still a kid, younger than all of them. I remember watching this boy sit on the back of Namjoon's bicycle and I always thought, 'wow, he's so lucky'. Namjoon had the coolest bike ever and Yoongi used to hold him around the waist with one arm, the other one grabbing a bag with his notebook inside. I spent so many afternoons observing them from afar, so jealous that Yoongi was quiet and shy like me and still had managed to fit in with the cool kids. It gave me hope, but it also made me bitter.” Jeongguk stopped his recollection for a few seconds, a frown clouding his face right before it sparked through. “And then one day I was biking around and I saw him and Seokjin fish at the lake. I studied them for a while before Yoongi asked me if I wanted to join them. Ever since that day, I became part of their crowd. His crowd, really. Like a love club.” 
You had listened to Jeongguk extremely attentively, captivated by the images evoked by his tale. 
“That's quite the meet cute,” you commented with a warm expression on your face. 
“Indeed. But you also had a meet cute with him.” Jeongguk's expression got boyishly mischievous. “How's your relationship with Yoongi going?” 
Your thoughts stumbled. “Relationship? Oh no!” You shook your hands before you. “Just friends.”
“Oh…” Jeongguk's eyebrows shot up. “I mean, I saw you getting pretty intimate in there.” 
You chuckled, almost choking on air. “It was… Yeah. I mean—”
Jeongguk waited for you to find the words you were so desperately fishing for, and then smiled — a bit disrespectfully — before offering you his opinion. “Well, I have never seen Yoongi acting that… that much forward in public, with nobody, ever. And he's rather shy, so for him to act that freely among so many people, you must really mean a lot to him.” He took a pause and you were ready to interrupt him when he added, “I know you'll think I'm speaking carelessly, but I've known him for a long time, and I know he's unlikely to ask for things he wants. He always puts himself last. Just let him down easy if you can't handle him. Or if you don't want him.” 
You took in the words and let them sink deep before nodding once, slowly, and replying. “I don't intend to let him down. I know how rare it is to meet someone like him. All I see is how respect and affection follow him wherever he goes.” You took a pause trying to gather your thoughts, but there was really nothing you could say other than, “I like him.” 
There, explained. 
“I like him, I like the people who like him, I like the people he likes, how they morph into little make-Yoongi-happy busy bees when he's around. Hell, I like myself when I'm around him and that hasn't happened in a long while.” 
You inhaled through your mouth, the oxygen quite not enough as the feel, the thought of Yoongi overwhelmed you. “I just like him a lot. And it's scary and beautiful and I don't know if he likes me like I do, but dammit, I really hope so.” 
Jeongguk waited and nodded. “Good.” He nodded some more and toyed with the lighter. “And well, if you think he doesn't like you after he turned into Tentacle Love Machine 3000 in there, in front of some sixty customers and his closest friends, then I'll let him know he needs to arrange something more forward, more blatant and maybe unequivocable.” Jeongguk's smirk was nothing short of conspiratorial, his eyes twinkling playfully as the lighter's flame danced in his obsidian irises.
“I like you, so I'll give you an in.” Jeongguk winked and you felt a little flustered at the man, looking so mysterious and then being so innocently sweet, so playfully young. “Yoongi's very likely to end up exhausted tonight. So exhausted he might need someone accompanying him upstairs, making sure he eats before he falls asleep in the living room, by the fireplace. And yes, he has a perfectly fine bedroom, but he still prefers sleeping by the fire when the weather gets cold and humid.” Jeongguk moved closer to you, bending a little as if he were confessing his most treasured secret. “You warm up some soup — there should be some potato soup Seokjin made him. You crumble some breadsticks inside and add some grated cheese, like a spoonful or so. Next you get him warm and cozy and make sure he soaks his feet in warm water. As they soak, you get his fuzzy socks on top of the mantelpiece. I'll get upstairs and start the fireplace before I leave, just add some wood. I'll get everything ready for you.” 
Your brain felt fuzzy but you recapped everything. “Okay. Upstairs, get him warm, soup, breadsticks, soak his feet, warm his socks.” 
“Next. He gets out of the bathroom, ready to be tucked in. You give him the warm socks and then that's when he needs you the most. You get him to lie down, you tuck him in and then,” Jeongguk's voice lowered, almost whispering in your ear. “You comb his hair. With your fingers, gently. You sit on the edge of the futon and touch his hair. Ten minutes and he'll be out like a light.” 
You blinked and nodded. “Comb his hair.” 
“Warm socks, tuck him in, comb his hair,” Jeongguk corrected you. “Got it?” 
You nodded. “Got it.” 
“Excellent. Make sure you don't waste your energies with the crowd. Don't worry about helping at Ginger's, your task isn't there. Your true task is taking care of Yoongi after he's done with Ginger's, okay?” 
“Okay.” You were being trained to become Yoongi's personal stress reliever. And it pleased you immensely. But one last question: “Why me?” 
Jeongguk tipped his head to the side, as if confused. 
“Why is it my task?” you clarified. 
Jeongguk shrugged. “It used to be mine. But I think it's time for a handover. He's had us for years, but we're like brothers. He deserves someone who can give him something he's never had. Because he deserves every good thing in this world and you've been not good, but outright miraculous to him. And I won't deny him that.” 
Jeongguk's smile was gentle and a little sad. “If I could give him the world, I would, but I cannot. Or maybe he's not interested in the world at all. Maybe the one thing he's interested in belongs to you, and you alone.” Jeongguk shrugged before he smiled, lighting up the entire street — and your hope too.
“Don't let him go,” Jeongguk said again.
You had no intention to. 
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The crowd was slowly fading, Yoongi standing by the counter in a way that was one hundred percent sheer will and absolutely no strength left in his body. 
It was Namjoon's task to ask the last table if they could wrap up since the bar had to close. They didn't even complain — maybe because of the way Namjoon winked and offered a smile that made you halt and reconsider your entire existence, or the way you had built your idea of him. 
In five minutes everyone was pretty much collapsed at their usual table. 
“I'm never doing this again. Next year I'm taking Halloween off. I'll be… I don't know. Very far away from this place.” Yoongi lifted his feet, placing them on a chair nearby and letting his legs rest. 
“You say it every year and then remember all the tips and the income and say, 'fuck it, we're riding at sundown, cowboys'.” 
You turned towards an exhausted Buttercup. “Does he really say that?” 
“Yes. I have texts.” She would have smiled hadn't she been too busy untying her shoelaces, trying to ease the swelling of her feet. Seokjin had already left, mostly because the bakery was most certainly going to go insane on a national holiday and as much as everyone was staying up late, he was going to be waking up early instead. Something like four in the morning. 
“Okay, tips everyone,” Yoongi said, forcing himself to his feet — or rather trying to before you pressed your hand to his shoulder and put him back to his place. 
“I've got this.” 
You grabbed the jar and placed it on the table while Yoongi started counting the money. 
Jeongguk brought everyone's usuals to the table and they waited for Yoongi to be done. It didn't take long and soon everyone, though with a little bit of complaining, was pocketing their share — yes, the complaining was mostly about their presence being "an act of friendship" and "not meant for economical compensation" and Yoongi being "a bit too obsessed with the concept of fair retribution". 
Still, he had placed the money on the table and had scrunched his nose and stared in annoyance until everyone had obeyed his iron will. 
“Now you can all crash at your own places or come at mine for a pizza. Up to you.” Yoongi let his head hang back, hitting the back of his seat. 
You met Jeongguk's stare as he met Namjoon's and tipped his head to the entrance. “We're exhausted and have enough money to pay for our own pizza, so I guess we can all up and leave, right folks?” 
Namjoon hummed in agreement and wrapped an arm around Buttercup. “Let's go,” he said, helping her up. She smiled at him, her eyes barely opening as she trusted him with her own body. 
He guided her, strong and reliable as you'd always seen him, and then everyone was actually leaving. 
Except you. 
“Come on, grab your coat,” you told Yoongi, standing up and positioning yourself beside him.
His head was still tipped backwards, his throat exposed, his eyes closed and his platinum hair splayed behind him, curling a little around the tips. 
“Just a minute. Can't we just hang out here?”
“It's not hanging out if you're five minutes away from smashing your face on the table out of exhaustion. Grab your coat.” 
“I'm tired,” he whined. 
“Grab your coat and we're gonna take care of that next.” 
He pouted and did almost as you told him — meaning that you grabbed the coat and he wore it. 
Next he stood up, looking like a little deer on shaky legs, and followed you out of the front door. 
You shut the light, locked the door and led him to the next door. “Come on,” you said, trying a thick key that could possibly match the wooden gate in front of you. The lock clicked lowly. 
“Spice?” 
You turned and his softest expression hit you like a train on a track. 
“Yes?” 
“You're coming upstairs?” He was hoping for a yes, and it was so see through on his face. 
“Only if you want me to.” 
He nodded to himself. He took a couple steps and started up the stairway to his apartment. “I want you to,” he said, without looking back. “I really do.” 
You followed him suit. 
Jeongguk had really started the fireplace and four large logs were waiting by its side. You also noticed there was a tupperware box on top of the counter next to some breadsticks. 
You were ready to get to the kitchen, focusing on the task at hand rather than the new environment, when Yoongi turned around and spread his arms in front of him. 
It was a bit confusing but once he took a step towards you your reaction was natural — and also, apparently, the right one. You spread your arms too and let him walk into your embrace, his face snuggling close to your neck. 
Your spine was vibrating at how good it felt, how insanely tender and wholesome, but still a little bit forbidden. A secret for the two of you. 
Your fingertips toyed with the soft hair at his nape. “Go get changed, Yoongi. Get comfy, you're too tired.” 
“One more minute, please.” 
“I'll give you all the minutes you want once you're wearing something fuzzy, warm and soft.” You held the sides of his face, the gesture coming so naturally, and yet your fingers sizzled with the sudden intimacy of it all. It was too tender for something friends do. 
His cheeks were chilly and deliciously supple and smooth. You ran your thumbs across them and Yoongi's eyes rolled closed. 
“Sweetcheeks,” you cooed, like some string of your heart had been plucked. 
He let his head fall forward, the crown of it pressing to your face. 
“You're too tired for this.” You helped his head upright and took off his beanie. Next, you took off his coat and your own. “Just go wear your comfy clothes. Take a shower, whatever. I'll get you some food, okay?” 
As a reply, his head tumbled onto your shoulder, his hands searching for your waist. “Can't we just grab a quick nap?” 
“No. Take a warm shower and get in your comfy clothes.” 
With a pout, he obeyed. “Good boy,” you called as he stomped his way to the bathroom. You noticed the socks neatly folded on the coffee table and unrolled them, following Jeongguk's instruction precisely, first with the socks and then with the soup. 
When Yoongi emerged from the corridor he was wrapped up in a fuzzy zip-up sweater and flannel pyjama pants. 
He was wearing slippers but his ankles were bare. 
He headed straight to the fireplace to grab his socks and then reached you in the kitchen. 
“So you're on Survival of the Yoongi duty tonight,” he stated matter-of-factly. 
“Precisely.” You poured him some soup and added the crumbled bread sticks on top. 
Yoongi nodded to himself. 
“Good. Are you gonna tuck me in and read me bedtime stories next? Or are you gonna get changed in comfy clothes too so I won't feel awkward?” 
Your voice came out alarmed. “Am I making you feel awkward?”
“Just a little. I think I'm looking for an excuse to make you too lazy to leave before tomorrow morning.” Yoongi thanked you for the soup and dug in, wolfing in two spoonfuls before asking, “Wait, aren't you going to eat? I swear it's pretty dope for being a soup. Seokjin made it, it's gourmet.” 
“You want me to sleep here?” The question came out straightforwardly, as if you hadn't even acknowledged the soup part of the discourse. 
“I mean, if you'd like. It's almost one in the morning and it's cold outside. I don't want you to walk alone and I don't want you to head home where you'll have to start the fire and get your own meal ready and spend time and energies on that when there's a perfectly fine home right here.” With someone who would love cuddling with you till you fall asleep, he didn't add. 
“I don't want to intrude.” 
“But what if it doesn't feel like intruding to me? I mean, I know my perception doesn't change your own, but if you think you're intruding because you think I feel like you're intruding, well, I don't feel like you're intruding.” 
You blinked four or five times as you parsed his sentence and he seemed as confused as you were. 
“I don't think what I said really made sense.” 
You nodded. “I think it does.” 
“Stay,” he said plainly. “I'd love to have you around. And this has nothing to do with what went on earlier, when we… you know. Well, it actually has a tiny bit to do with that, but not much, almost nothing at all.” 
You gulped down some more soup — true, the bread sticks really gave it a kick — and argued, “Yoongi, this is not helping me understand.” 
He hummed and swallowed his mouthful of soup, scraping the spoon against the bottom of the plate. “I mean, I'm not asking you to be here because I want to sleep with you — I mean, to get… To have sex with you.” His cheeks were on fire. “I just relax when you're around and at the same time I feel like I've been electrocuted — in a good way.” 
You chuckled at this analogy. “I understand. I feel like that too.”
“You've been told to take care of me. Let me take care of you too. And I mean that platonically. Affectionately and fondly.” 
You thought about it for maybe three seconds. “Okay. But just one thing. I haven't been told to take care of you. I chose to do so.” You stood, ready to head anywhere his gaze wouldn't be inspecting you. 
“Let me find you something cosy to wear,” he spoke with his most quiet voice, almost as if he were reminding himself rather than telling you. 
You followed him, trying not to look like you were snooping. The upright piano in the living room was decorated with framed pictures, and more pictures hung along the corridor, on both walls. 
The bathroom was small but looked tidy and organised, two closed doors and then his room, closed too but looking way less desolate. 
From a drawer by the bed he found a fluffy sweatshirt that seemed made for hiking, and flannel pants. And socks. 
“Here. You saw the bathroom, make yourself at home.” 
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Yoongi had just finished placing the dishes in the dishwasher when he heard your footsteps. 
“Hey,” he called, letting you know that you'd been spotted. 
“Hey.” 
You had known Yoongi for almost two months now but being in his home for the first time and in his clothes already made you feel a strange twinge of homesickness you had never felt in your own house. 
It was like a dull ache, right below your heart, where you kept all the memories of being at home with your parents, but most importantly that dream of a house you had planned with your ex. That house he'd spat upon, together with your best friend. 
“Spice.” Yoongi's voice had no pretense of distance. It was mellow and gentle like his chamomile syrup. “Is it strange for you? Me asking you to stay over?” 
Just a little, but mostly it's strange because it doesn't feel strange at all. It feels right and I want it. “I mean, I haven't been hanging out with a male friend in a long while and after what happened earlier… I don't know. I think the subtext could be pretty rich, so to speak.” 
He looked a bit awkward standing in the middle of the room, clearly embarrassed, before he plopped onto the sofa. “I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” He averted his gaze. “I played it by ear, but it's like trying to improvise a song you've never heard.” He chuckled and rubbed his nape with his palm before tucking his hands between his knees, palms pressed together. 
You sat beside him on the sofa, feeling just a bit funny before realising it wasn't awkwardness buzzing through you. It was excitement. 
“I felt…” Your eyes met his. Galvanized. Electrocuted. Like I'd been jumpstarted. “It was unexpected. In a good way.” 
“Trust me, I didn't expect to feel like that either. Or to act like that. It just… I just trusted my gut.” 
“And it's nice that you did.” You bumped his knee with yours. 
He bumped yours back. “So? What now?” 
You glanced at him in your peripherals. “Now we…” We kiss and you show me what those hands can do all over me. If they're as magical as they seem. We kiss and I am the one tasting your neck this time around. I explore each and every part of your body until I've rolled out every drop of exhaustion out of you. And after that you collapse at my side and rest and once you wake up it's my turn to be ravished.
Reality check. 
“Now we take a nap cause you're barely coherent,” you stated sweetly and assertively at the same time. 
Yoongi pouted, ready to protest before realising that, after all, he needed to know you better, that the conversation he wanted to have wouldn't last only a couple minutes due to his drowsiness. 
“So, should we go to bed?” He looked at you with his dark eyes, the flames from the fireplace making them glow like obsidian. The room was comfortably dim, only the fire and a small lamp illuminating it. 
“Or we can stay here.” 
“Oh, come on!” he objected. “I won't let you sleep here, I have a perfectly comfortable bed with a crazy expensive mattress, it'd be a shame to sleep on this thing.” 
But you were already making yourself comfortable and grabbing a blanket, twice as soft as everything you'd ever owned. It was double-faced, on one side faux shearling, on the other delicate grey velour. “God, where did you buy this?” you mused, flopping onto your side and throwing the blanket over you. 
“It's a gift from the guys from last Christmas. But we can take that to bed with us. Come,” he tried to convince you. 
“No, you come here and lay down and we can cuddle in front of the fireplace where it's toasty and warm and romantic.” 
At the mention of the 'romantic' bit, Yoongi simply gave up. “I just need you to stand for a minute. So I can open up the futon and make room for both,” he explained so you wouldn't oppose. 
You forced yourself back to your feet and watched him struggle a bit before the frame of the sofa creaked and flattened; next, he unfolded the mattress and patted it down. “Come on,” he whispered. 
In ten seconds you were both laying down, Yoongi taking the middle while you took the space closer to the fire. You turned around to face him. 
“Are you ready to fall asleep?” you asked, feeling your eyes so heavy. 
“Just…” he folded his legs into fetal position and tucked his hands between his knees. “Like this.”
You reached over to his hair and ran your fingers through it, smoothing it lovingly past his ear, caressing his cheek in the process. 
“Thank you so much for everything,” he murmured. “Not just tonight. For being my friend, you know.” 
Incapable of holding yourself back, you bent over and pressed your lips to his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his cheek. His tender, full cheek. And another, and another. He stretched his legs so you could move closer, and you did, your knees and his playing tetris until everything clicked and he could rest his forehead in the nook between your face and your chest, your nose buried in his hair. 
He smelled of argan oil and cocoa. 
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Taglist is open! Leave a comment or reblog to keep a writer motivated!
Navi: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
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chimivx · 1 year
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wip game 🙈
@chans-room tagged me 💜
post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. let people send you an ask with any titles most intriguing to them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.
i have two google accounts all of these are linked to. forgive me. this may be embarrassing.
yellow 6 - myg
southside 2 - myg
venus in scorpio - bang chan
wonderland - wooyoung
sept 30th 2022 - myg
taste (next) - hyunjin
cheese - han & felix
then i have these halloween shmut projects “13 nights of halloween”
bite me - jungkook
‘untitled’ its a family show.. or is it - yunho
‘untitled’ milf across the street - hueningkai
‘untitled’ he’s the maid - hyunjin
fae!txt - ot5
teen wolf au - werewolf!chan
teen wolf au - han (same universe as chans, theyre friends aha) ((like stiles and scott)) (((different gf’s tho))) ((((if u can call chans a gf))))
‘untitled’ rival houses - thv
hunted - s.coups
the siren - yeonjun
are you scared? - san
‘untitled’ they’re in the room with us! - taehyun
‘untitled’ (may get scrapped) vegas baby halloween edition
in over my head & i haven’t written in a week or so. don’t know why i do this to myself :}
i’m unsure of who to tag, or who’ll want to play, but whether we’re moots or not I WANNA SEE YOURS AND BOTHER YOU ABOUT UR WIPS!!! PLEASE PLAY!
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biiigpurr · 2 years
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Sadodere
MYG x Female Reader
This is from our book 'Dark Desires' on Wattpad.
Disclaimer:
MATURE CONTENT
This is a oneshot that contains content of an adult nature.
If you are easily offended or are under the age of 18, please do not read. 
This scenario is intended for adults of all sexualities, genders, and types.
This ff is graphic and has violence inflicted by an idol due to oc y/n’s kinks.
Reader discretion is advised.
Don't spread hate in the comments.
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A Sadodere is a person who gets pleasure from putting their love interest in tough situations that cause either pain or humiliation, whether it be physical or emotional. They lack empathy for others and only take interest in those they value.
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Marching into the study hall Yoongi couldn’t believe he was stuck with you for detention.
To him, you’re the one who provoked him! Being all cute and shit! No one should see how cute you are! Only him!
Yoongi practically tore the door off the wall as he entered the room. Thoughts of you being nice to a boy in class and giving him a pencil on his mind.
You practically jumped from your skin as the slam sound ricocheted into the room. He smiled simply and walked in normally, shutting the door behind him and walking over to the things you two were designated to handle.
You two were decorating/cleaning the study hall for the ‘Should we have a halloween dance?’ debate. As Seniors, most of your class could care less, which is why it’s so fucking annoying for you two to be there decorating.
Yoongi grabbed a ladder and began walking toward the back of the hall to hang up the banner. You were standing back there, stapling bats to the wall. He internally bit his lip, watching you reach up high, your skirt rising as well. He had to rip his eyes from you to stand the ladder up, stepping to the top and jamming a wall tack into the banner. He got down and moved the ladder closer to you so he could hang the bat in between the words, sticking a wall tack in it before getting down. He looked around and noticed it was quiet besides a quiet hum from you as you hummed the outro to his favorite movie. “Ponyo on the Cliff By the Sea.”
Yoongi smiled faintly and wasn’t watching where he was walking, so when you backed up, he accidentally hit you with the ladder as he swung it to his other arm. You fell backwards and landed on your butt before your back and head hit the ground. He dropped the ladder, and ran over to you.
You were propping yourself up on your elbows when he knelt by your feet. He noticed your skirt was flipped up, but you hadn’t. Suddenly you felt hands on your thighs, “What are you doing?” Yoongi smirked, moving closer to sit on your knees, “Looking at your panties, duh.”
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You blushed red as a tomato and all it did was turn Yoongi on more. “Pervert!” You suddenly flipped a switch and raised a hand to smack him. He quickly grabbed your wrist and then your other pinning them above your head. You gasped as his face got dangerously close to yours. “Get off Jerk! You’re the reason we’re here anyway!”
Yoongi didn’t like this, he grew angry, “Well! If you wouldn’t have given Seokjin that pencil we wouldn’t be here!” You scoffed, “Jealous Jerk! I can have friends!” Yoongi growled, making you look at him like he was crazy. “NO! YOU’RE MINE!” Before you could protest just as loudly, he crashed his lips against yours in an aggressive power trip.
He muffled your yell with his lips as he held you in place. You wiggled to try and get away, gasping for air, only for your air to be replaced by his tongue. Your eyes widened, but as he slithered his tongue against yours you couldn’t help but give in. You started moving your tongue along his and he smirked against your lips. “Mmmm~” He hummed. You blushed as a heat began to pool in your stomach and you felt yourself clench onto nothing. You had to admit, you were eating this shit up.
His free hand slid up your thigh, his hand pulling your panties only to let them come back with a loud, ‘SMACK’. You whined in pain and he chuckled deeply before pulling away. He grabbed your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. “You’re mine now and I’ll do anything I want with you.” You gulped and stayed quiet, a soft whimper leaving you as Yoongi’s hand traveled up your side before gripping the top of your shirt.
He yanked on it, the buttons popping off. You gasped at the rush of cold air and the fact that you don’t have a spare shirt. “I’ll give you my school sweater, shut up.” He said. You blushed and turned away from him as he eyed your bra that matched your panties. 
You felt his hand squeeze your breast over your bra. Frankly, he was quite scary, but you’ve always had a thing for Yoongi. The way his eyes soaked in your visuals everytime he looked at you. The way his cat eyes sparkled when you complimented him. Especially, the way he glares at you when he’s angry with you, it makes you quiver.
He tugged your hands and stood to his feet. You stood up and he let go of your hands, only to re-pin them behind you. You heard the clicking of your belt that held up your skirt before feeling it slide off of your waist. He then pushed you forward, stumbling into the cabinets that lined the back wall.
You leaned against it, wincing at the pain in your hips and thighs from smacking against the cabinet. You turned around only to feel him aggressively push your face into the wall. You whined but internally bit your lip as he placed your belt against your wrists before pulling it tightly. 
You hissed at the pain it caused and just smiled internally. You have no clue what was coming over you but you were wanting him to get rougher. Your heat was clenching like it does when you cum on your toys, greedily holding them in place. Yoongi smiled at your straight face, knowing you were moaning inside as he rubbed circles on your hips while he held them. He then pressed himself flush against your ass. “Yoongi~” You purred unintentionally.
He gasped quietly, “You like this huh? Being a dirty slut in school?” He said, leaning up and grabbing your hair by the roots and tugging you to where his mouth was near your shoulder. “Let me mark my slut like the cow she is.” You shuddered, not knowing you had a degrading kink.
You bit your lip to stifle your scream in pain as Yoongi sunk his teeth into your shoulder. You spread your fingers, your hands rubbing his lower stomach. He pulled away as you gasped at the pain. He smirked and leaned down, licking the blood before speaking to you quietly. “Now, even in the future if we never see each other after high school, you’ll have memory of who fucked you best.” You blushed and gulped. 
He pushed your skirt up, smacking your ass. You jumped but didn’t make a sound. So he smacked you again. And again. And again until you finally screamed on the last hit. “There it is~” He purred, your ass cheeks now red.
“Look at you, pretty baby.” You blushed and hid your face. He smirked and pulled your panties down, exposing you to him. “Don’t just look at me, Yoongi~” You whined. He smiled, “Shake your ass.” You whimpered. He smacked your other cheek, “Shake it.” You then shook your hips side to side, making your ass jiggle. “Pop your back.” Yoongi leaned back to watch, the sound of a zipper sliding down filled the room. You pressed your chest to the table and began popping your back as he said.
He then suddenly smacked your ass, gripping it before a harsh bite was felt. You looked back just in time for him to stand back up and press down on your lower back to align himself. You gasped loudly, a high pitch scream left your throat while he pushed in.
The scream got caught as Yoongi began thrusting in and out of you. “AH~” You moaned loudly. Yoongi leaned forward and grabbed your hair, holding you to his chest as he covered your mouth. He slammed in and out of you, watching your breasts bounce from over your shoulder. “O-Oppa. It hurts~” You said, muffled. He smiled and licked your bite mark, moving to your neck to leave another. Yoongi began to, painstakingly slow, thrust into you.
Your fingertips began trembling as you held them splayed out so they met his stomach everytime his hips were flush against your ass. “C-Cumming~” You gritted your teeth after moaning airly. Yoongi grabbed your arms and began thrusting into you rapidly.
“OPPA!” You screamed as he slammed you back against each of his thrusts, sliding your cum out of you with each pull out. “FUCK!” Yoongi shouted, pulling out and cuming on your back. “AH! My skirt, Yoongi!” You shouted, looking back only to see him smirk lightly.
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He chuckled, “Sorry.” Your heart palpitated. He walked over to his backpack, pulling out some folded napkins. He walked over and turned you around, aggressively wiping his cum from your skirt before taking your shirt off and putting his sweater on your head,
“Meet me here after school tomorrow, I wanna show you a spot.” You nodded and walked away, leaving Yoongi alone.
He walked to the areas around where he had ripped your shirt off and found all 6 buttons before folding your shirt and putting it gently in his backpack. He pocketed the buttons and smiled his gummy smile to himself, making him laugh at the feeling of finally taking you.
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eleni-cherie · 2 years
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Ich habe 1.655 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet
102 Einträge erstellt (6%)
1.553 Einträge gerebloggt (94%)
Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:
@lanadelreyly
@gemsofgreece
@fy-yongsun
@cheddarholt
@sitcom-gifs
Ich habe 152 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt
#bts fanfic – 52 Einträge
#bts – 42 Einträge
#bts au – 39 Einträge
#bts imagines – 30 Einträge
#bts scenarios – 27 Einträge
#yoongi au – 26 Einträge
#suga au – 26 Einträge
#yoongi fluff – 26 Einträge
#jeon soyeon – 26 Einträge
#female rapper – 25 Einträge
Longest Tag: 73 characters
#i fcking need this to be my wedding dress idc that i don't even have a bf
Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:
#5
lonely hearts club ✨ || kth au [ONGOING] masterlist
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maybe single parents are meant to be members of the lonely hearts club.
© 2022 | eleni_cherie
»»»
❝lonely hearts club
do you want to be with somebody like me? ❞
»»»
genre: fluff, angst, single parents au, romcom, strangers to friends to lovers
list of all chapters:  0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 1.0 | 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5 | 1.6 | 1.7 | 1.8 | 1.9 | 2.0 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | finale
started publishing: 11th october 2022 
-publishing multiple chapters every week!
finished: -
words: between 1.2k - 4k, chapters get longer as it goes :)
»»»
COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
IDEA/STORY VERY LOOSELY INSPIRED BY THE SONG “LONELY HEARTS CLUB” BY MARINA.
PROTAGONISTS:
KIM TAEHYUNG AS HIMSELF; SINGLE DAD
SARAH HYLAND AS CASSANDRA; SINGLE MUM
ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.
DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))
DEDICATED TO MYSELF BC I REALLY WANTED A GOOD TAE SINGLE DAD AU BUT COULDN’T FIND THAT MANY LOL. AND TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC!!
CHECK OUT MY OTHER STORIES AS WELL:
polaris ✨ bts • kth
private affair ✨ ksj
8 mile ✨ myg
-Elenixx
57 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 12. Oktober 2022
#4
my halloween costume this year. wwdits    stans will get it
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100 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 2. September 2022
#3
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Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
149 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 19. Juli 2022
#2
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vote on 2022mama.com/vote (50%) 🚨 it'll be THE LAST DAESANG we can give our boys for the next years❗
if you hit ip limit: turn wifi router off/on, switch shortly to airplane mode and back, use mobile data or try a different browser/the app.
also stream YET TO COME on MAMA's Spotify playlist 1x per day per acc and the GRAMMY NOMINATED MV on Youtube!
🎧 Spotify (30%) 2022mama.com/vote/spotify
📺YouTube (10%) youtu.be/kXpOEzNZ8hQ
it gets embarrassing really. yes, the others get help from other fandoms and cheat by using vpn and buying votes, but considering what a huge fandom we are, this constant struggle and that we can't widen the gap more than 25k before it starts decreasing again, is embarrassing. period.
EDIT:
They OUTVOTED US TODAY AGAIN!
not bc the votes more but bc we voted LESS than yesterday!
Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen
204 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 17. November 2022
Meine #1 des Jahres 2022
glad I was in the part of my generation that was influenced by marina's tfj + eh, lana's btd + uv, arctic monkeys' am, the neighborhood, ahs murder house w evan peters as tate langdon + coven, skins uk w kaya scodelario as effy stonem & hannah murray as cassie ainsworth and angsty wattpad fanfics
283 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 26. Februar 2022
Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →
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piedpiperslists · 1 year
Text
KTH: Multiple Members / Polyamory AU
List of all Taehyung fics under 'Multiple Members / Polyamory' AU:
* ¹ - one shot ² - two shots s - contains smut
Last updated: 28/05/2023
D R A B B L E S
“Have I said something wrong?” by sugalaritae ft KSJ, polyamory au
O N E S H O T S
[...] 666 Medici Drive by ddaenggtan s wc~4.5k / ft KNJ, incubus!Taehyung, witch!Namjoon, vampire!reader, PWP Summary: You decide to help garden witch Kim Namjoon gather ingredients he needs from an old friend and the local incubus, Kim Taehyung, but in a much more fun way than the two may have originally planned.
All Wound Up (Tighter) by minisugakoobies s wc~6k / ft JJK, rockstar au, PWP Summary: Jungkook and Taehyung help you unwind.
Castle (II) by satnin-darling s wc~7.7k / ft JJK, idol au, polyamory au, PWP Summary: It's another day in the SOOP and there's something about the way Taehyung and Jungkook are talking together beneath the awning that somehow ends up with you on a pleasurable tailspin.
Cobalt Blue by hobivore s wc~11.3k / ft JJK, artist au, PWP Summary: You ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls.
Compromise by here2bbtstrash s wc~10k / ft JJK, werewolf!Jungkook, vampire!Taehyung, Twilight au Summary: You're torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don't have to choose.
Devil on Your Shoulder [AO3] by kkulfm-2 s wc~6.4k / ft PJM, college au, polyamory au Summary: You’re supposed to go to a Halloween party but your boyfriends change plans—and when the angel and devil looking over your shoulder both agree, who are you to resist temptation?
Down Bad by kth1 s wc~8.6k / ft MYG, boyfriend!Taehyung, PWP Summary: To spice up your sex life even more, your boyfriend, Taehyung, suggests a brand-new offer to you. One that includes another piece of Daegu that is extremely hard to resist.
Feast by noteguk s wc~7.9k / ft JJK, vampire au Summary: In which you and Taehyung have to teach Jungkook one of two things about being a creature of the night.
Feedback by yminie s wc~11.1k / ft JHS, friends au, PWP Summary: You’re feeling a little insecure about something your friend had said, and your besties Tae and Hobi are there to help you out.
Joyride by minisugakoobies s wc~12.8k / ft JJK, college au, strangers au Summary: Senior year spring break sucks, thanks to the annoying spoiled little rich boy who won't stop trying to get your attention. When a scenic drive in his ridiculously expensive sports car goes wrong, you meet two sexy mechanics who decide to teach him a lesson - and show you the real meaning of "joyride."
Kodachrome by hobivore & illneverrecover s wc~9k / ft JJK, boyfriend!Taehyung Summary: An unexpected encounter on Valentine’s Day brings back an old memory: after discussing some fantasies with your boyfriend, Taehyung, you can’t help but think it’s almost serendipitous when an old friend comes into town. But what would happen when past meets present?
Medicine by bratkook s wc~9k / ft JJK, strangers au, PWP Summary: A drunken night at a dive bar after a show was always a given, finding yourself in some form of chaos before the night was over, and as two strangers walk in with eyes that sparkle with mischief, you make it your personal mission to have them be your reckless decisions of the night.
Page 1 by satnin-darling s wc~3.5k / ft JJK, idol au, polyamory au, PWP Summary: Jungkook was tidying up in the boat house just as you came down to see him. Obviously, cleaning would be at the bottom of the agenda once you were together. But while Jungkook was confident that you two would be alone to do whatever you liked since his room was apart from everyone else’s, he keeps forgetting that Taehyung liked to go the extra mile.
Player Two by minjoonalist s wc~10.6k / ft JJK, gamer!Jungkook, polyamory au, PWP Summary: You’ve always wanted to be as good of a gamer as your boyfriend Jungkook and you’ve tried many times to ask for his help only to be turned down…on your game. but this time you’re over his bratty attitude towards it and he still can’t get enough of yours.
Pour Up by jungkxook s wc~14k / ft JJK, fuckboy!Jungkook, fuckboy!Taehyung, PWP Summary: Sleeping with both notorious frat boys Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.
Scenes of Misguided Magic by wwilloww s wc~2.3k / ft JJK, magic au, roommates au Summary: Living with your two magic roommates means often exploding potions, spell mistakes, and strange ingredients. It doesn't mean sex magic. Except today it does.
Shush by mapofthesea s wc~3.5k / ft KSJ, PWP
Slow Down by ggukbabyy s wc~6.5k / ft JJK, boyfriend!Jungkook, PWP Summary: You’re both fucked up, Jeongguk knows you like attention and Taehyung is willing to give you it.
SOOP by satnin-darling s wc~2.8k / ft JJK, idol au, polyamory au, PWP Summary: Taehyung was meant to fetch you and Jungkook because it was already time to eat. But he happened to walk into something else and he couldn’t help but join. Oh, and for those who are left waiting, it’s not all bad
Tattooed Two by httpjeon s wc~8.5k / ft JJK, boyfriend!Jungkook, PWP Summary: Your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.
T W O S H O T S / S E R I E S
Bed Bereft ¹ [epilogue] [drabbles] by randombtsprincessa s ft KSJ, best friend!Taehyung, polyamory au Summary: You’ve loved your college best friend for ages, too bad he’s got a boyfriend. Twisted decisions lead to revelations about sexualities, secrets, feelings and confrontations.
Just Kidding by whatifyoulivelikethat s ft JJK, PWP Summary: There was a time where you would be out partying, getting drunk and fucking up a storm. But you’re different now. You stopped drinking. Now you’re the one waiting for Kim Taehyung to call so you can pick him up from his drunken adventures. There’s just one small hitch – Taehyung’s roommate, Jeon Jungkook, offering you a mojito.
The Hush Series ² by suga-kookiemonster s ft JJK, PWP Summary: Four seats, five bodies. “Careful, sweetheart,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, hands tightening over your waist in warning. You lick your lips, pausing just long enough to ponder: what if you don’t want to be careful?
Young Blood ² by blublublujk s ft JJK, vampire au Summary: A very thirsty newborn begs for a feeding, you and Taehyung deliver accordingly.
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