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#yoongi imagine
alexlwrites · 2 days
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As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!
This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!
As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!
Anywho! Enjoy!
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Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.
Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.
And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.
"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"
Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...
"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"
"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.
Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.
Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"
"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"
Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.
They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.
Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?
Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...
Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.
Oh.
Oh.
You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.
Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!
You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."
Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:
-accelerated heart beat
-exaggerated hand sweating
-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case
-ill timed boners
And, the most common one:
-praise kink
Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.
If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.
Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.
Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad.  Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...
Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!
Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.
The betrayal? The bro-trayal?
Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.
Bugger.
Bugger it all to hell.
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jiminrings · 4 hours
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fail-safe; intermission 02.
wordcount: 2k
glimpse: you leave for the night, but hopefully for good in the future.
alternatively, jungkook offers you reprieve.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist
You’ve come to loathe your childhood home.
You’ve come to loathe your room and most especially your bed. You’ve come to hate the people who inhabit it in one way or another, whether it is to guard the door to it or sleep on it.
You detest the floor space that makes everyone who enters it regard it as cozy as if it’s an embrace that’s waiting solely for them. You despise the way it smells, the mix of what lived-in comes off as a scent seeming like an invitation for just about everyone.
The start and end to everything that has caused you immense pain in your life had something to do with your home. From the evident patriarch that’s missing in all your family photos, to how the outside doesn’t seem lavish compared to the facades of your classmates’ houses, to even the visitor that has been hellbent since day one to treat it as his very own — everything that has given you grief comes from the same place you’ve sworn up and down gave you nothing but comfort.
You don’t know where to place all your rage; you can’t even start unpacking everything you hold inside because there’s no space in a house so little to even tolerate you. It houses everything from a past (you’re not so sure of the tense) lover to offspring of said lover, but what your home can’t do is bear you–
Which is why you find yourself driving up to the big city, crashing into a room you know the most outside of your own space in your own house, just to stay for the night. It’s maintained to the state of when you’ve last been in it, the sight of the city below you reminding you that even for just a second, you could pretend that it’s your own home.
It’s your own space in the big city where there isn’t a brother whose loyalties don’t lie with you. It’s your own home wherein you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s intruding on everyone else in there because out of all of them, you’re the one who’s the least-adjusted when it comes to family. You’re above everyone, even if it’s just pretend, and in your few moments of peace, it comes. The click on the door comes, and you freeze up instantly.
What you didn’t expect is for the owner of it to actually come home.
“Jungkook,” you gasp, immediately straightening up your form on his couch. You didn’t even dare to put up your feet on his coffee table but with the way you react, he’d almost think you defiled it in ways he can’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find any vacant hotels that could take me in such a short notice.”
There’s no confusion in Jungkook’s face. Surprise, sure, because he’s not used to anyone else having his key except for you, and when his eyes did settle to the light, his shock immediately dissipated. There’s no hostility. No arrogance, and no hint on his face telling you that you were unwelcome.
If anything, he looks warm.
“Oh come on, Y/N. You can crash anytime you’d like,” he laughs loudly once he figures that your startled expression looks amusing, the sound of his keys hitting the bowl snapping you out of your daze. “God knows you’ve saved my ass and let me crash in your house far too many times.”
Jungkook takes off his coat and hands you his own house slippers, sliding them from underneath your feet that you’re adamant to not put up anywhere else besides the floor.
You’re relieved for the most part, the guilt that you feel in your stomach creeping into your chest because Jungkook looks relaxed. Nonchalant, even, to know that you dropped into his home without even asking. It’s the total opposite of what you’ve felt seeing Yoongi do the same to you, the lone difference being Jungkook actually wanting you to be here.
“That’s because I’m your manager. That’s literally my work,” you sigh breathlessly, accepting the meal that he gives you sheepishly. You’d have to share with him because he wasn’t expecting anyone, but oddly enough, Jungkook’s more apologetic than you are because he didn’t check on you during your break. Your talent’s sorry because he didn’t anticipate you coming to him, and it’s a situation you’re completely unused to.
You’re not used to being on the receiving end of apologies.
“No, that’s beyond your work. A friend would do that. A manager would rat me out to the CEO and give me an ultimatum,” Jungkook corrects you, flipping his hair that’s grown out since his last project. The break the both of you are in on is literally the first throughout your whole careers, and the sudden reunion reminds you of the fact that he is correct.
Jungkook sees the knot in between your eyebrows, the same one that always appeared whenever you had to chew someone out for messing up something on his agenda, the chuckle that leaves him making you look up attentively.
“You could use a drink. You look like you need it,” he stands up to pour you a glass of his favorite liquor in his favorite glass, the worn-out milk cup freebie of his cereal being the perfect container whenever he wanted to get tipsy but not drunk. “How was going home?”
“It felt bad,” you admit with no shame. It’s Jungkook, and even if he has more stuff going on in his life success-wise than you do, you don’t feel a need to prove yourself. “I had to leave early.”
“And how was seeing Yoongi?” he raises a brow, still adept to the stories about him whenever you both took a load off busy schedules with drinking.
“Even worse,” you grumble, shuddering at the remembrance of a memory that’s still fresh in your mind. “I had to leave early because he was on my bed again, but this time, sleeping with his ex-wife and his son.”
Jungkook gasps softly, lips parting open in shock. “The same guy who fucked his high school sweetheart in your room?”
“Get this,” you chuckle with no real humor to it, looking down on your cup with a hatred that he could recognize. He doesn’t see it everyday, most especially not from you either, but Jungkook knows that look — that anger that could only come from someone who had to endure so much. “High school sweetheart and mother of his child and ex-wife? Just the same person.”
You’re not sure if it’s pity you should expect from Jungkook. You don’t expect any grand reaction because he should be desensitized to points like these (he’s done his fair share of dramas, both melodramatic and straight-up cheesy), but what you certainly don’t expect is for him to launch himself at you. To comfort you.
“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles to your shoulder, large hand cupping repeatedly against your back.
“What are you sorry for?” you whisper, pulling away to wipe at the tears at the corners of your eyes before they get on Jungkook. You turn your head away, pretending that the city you look down on is Yoongi, and that the tears that pool onto your cheeks aren’t there at all. “It must be Yoongi’s birthright to go sleep in my room like he owns it.”
Your sarcasm can’t carry over not because you sniffled, but because Jungkook is perhaps the most observant person in the world after you. “But that’s not the worst, Jungkook.”
He’s nervous for a second before it turns into annoyance, the look of genuine concern filling his face. He has his hand on your forearm, trying to get you to look at him so when you do lie, he could catch it. “Do you need me to rough him up for you?”
“I have no right,” you mutter to yourself more than you do for him, kissing your teeth at the frustration that whatever it is to do, you can’t seem to pick yourself up now. “I can get angry at him for sleeping on my bed with no permission. I can even get angry at him for lots of things. For giving me this, this false hope that we’ll ever amount to something,” you shakily exhale, looking down on your hands that are far from Hyewon’s that have held him and their child. “But the one thing — the one thing I can’t get angry at Yoongi for is him sleeping with his family.”
You have no right. Absolutely no semblance, no fraction of anything that could ever lead you to the conclusion that you have a say on how Yoongi loves his family, even if he’s divorced Hyewon whom he’ll forever keep the porch light on for.
He can leave town and take his share, but Hyewon can always come home — that’ll never change because she was once someone whom he loved the most (probably still), and the mother to Haneul. The porch light is on and the windows are cracked open in the event that she wants to come home to them, be it their home in New York or Los Angeles, be it the home you grew up in.
“What can I do about that, Jungkook? I can’t fault him for that. That’s his family. I don’t play any part in it.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N,” he soothes you, fingertips lightly scratching at your scalp. “You don’t deserve any of this.”
“Stop lying,” you cry to your hands even if Jungkook’s chest is right in front of you, the best he could do (the best that you allow because you’re not used to anyone going out of their way for you) only letting you cry the way you know how.
“I’m saying the truth,” he hums, unconsciously swaying you back in forth as you sit on the floor together. “People take so much from you, do you know that? Weren’t you the one that had to hustle and get a practical job because your brother was gambling on passion alone?” he tilts his head, wiping at your tears. “Weren’t you the one who had to carry all the hurt when it came to Yoongi?”
Jungkook even comes to a conclusion.
“I’m guilty of it too. I give you such a hard time.”
“Stop it,” you nudge him, effectively snapping out of your crying state when you hear Jungkook going into a train he shouldn’t even board in the first place. “That’s different. It’s literally my job to go through a hard time so you don’t.”
“But still. I feel like I don’t pay you enough for it,” he frowns, the immediate laugh that bursts from your lips making him smile.
“The agency does, but okay,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, the bonus you gave me enabled me to buy a new car.”
“Eh,” he shrugs exaggeratedly in faux arrogance, the smile on his face cheeky enough that it makes you throw your head back in amusement. “It is a nice car, isn’t it?”
Jungkook does it so quick, it being your reprieve, you don’t even notice that it’s the first long stretch of silence you’re under without thinking about anything but yourself; how you breathe, how you feel your fingers move, and even how steady your heart feels.
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you smile softly, turning to him as he does the same. “For letting me crash and making things a little lighter for me. Even if it isn’t your job.”
“We’ve known each other for years,” he reasons. “You’re there and I’m there, even we’re not on the clock.”
There’s weight behind his smile, the inkling that pops up into your brain making you chuckle to yourself as you straighten up once again.
“I’ll get out of your hair in a few hours. I need to beat the traffic on the way back.”
“You’re still going back? This has got to be torture.”
You shrug carelessly, sighing heavily. “Three more days. My mom’s been blowing up my phone telling me she wants the family complete so she wouldn’t look stupid in front of everyone for this big family reunion,” you nod to yourself, building up whatever dignity and resolve you have left. “I think I can endure that much for her.”
Jungkook’s mind is as set as yours is to go home.
“You don’t have to endure it alone,” he offers, eyes wide and honest.
“What?”
“I’m an actor. Award-winning,” he adds, the smile that lingers on his face giving you more than just reprieve. “Even better than that, I’m also a good friend and an excellent debt-payer.”
“Jungkook,” you say his name as warning, partly in disbelief, and partly to convince yourself that he’s not thinking what you’re thinking.
“You’re a decent actress too. Just follow my lead,” he shrugs, shoving you lightly.
“You’re ridiculous,” you gasp, shaking your head adamantly. “Seriously, you don’t want to play any part in this chaos-…”
“I’ve been in worse settings,” he counters. “Stop taking shit, Y/N. Pretty woman like you doesn’t deserve anything of the sort.”
“Jungkook.”
He knows he already has you partly convinced when you let him get another word in.
“You and me, dating, driving back home. You can pretend you’re alright and unaffected with everything,” Jungkook grins. “We act it out enough, it’ll eventually come true.”
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whytryyy · 1 day
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Moonlight harmony
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pairing: yoongi x reader
warnings: fluff, smut mdni
words: 620
In the tranquil embrace of your dimly lit living room, the soft crackle of vinyl filled the air, casting a nostalgic ambiance that wrapped around you like a familiar blanket.
The day had been a whirlwind of laughter and chaos, as you and your husband tended to the needs of your children, their playful energy filling every corner of the house.
But now, with the little ones tucked away in their beds, the house finally quiet, you both found solace in the quiet moments shared between just the two of you.
Your husband, with his tender and caring demeanor, extended his hand to you, his eyes sparkling with an invitation to dance amidst the serenade of your favorite records.
With a smile, you accepted, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room, where the melodious tunes began to weave their magic around you.
The warmth of the music enveloped you, creating a haven away from the demands and stresses of the outside world. As you swayed to the rhythm, guided by the gentle touch of your husband's hand on your waist, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
Nestling your head against his chest, you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, synchronizing with your own in a silent symphony of love.
Each step, each turn, seemed to speak volumes without the need for words, a testament to the deep connection you shared. With every tender touch and whispered word, you rediscovered the passion that had ignited your love so many years ago.
Each note of the music wove a tapestry of memories, reminding you of the journey you had embarked on together as partners in life. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, time seemed to stand still as you danced, lost in each other's arms.
The music continued to play, a soothing backdrop to the intimacy shared between you and Yoongi. His hand found yours, a silent invitation to draw you closer, and you melted into his embrace, the world outside fading away as you became lost in the moment.
With each sway and movement, guided by the rhythm of the music, you felt a sense of unity, as if the two of you were moving as one. Resting your head against his chest, you closed your eyes, letting the music carry you away on its gentle waves.
In the quiet of the night, words became unnecessary, replaced by the language of your bodies as you danced together in perfect harmony.
Each touch, each caress, spoke of a love that transcended mere words, a love that bound you together in an unbreakable bond.
When the song finally came to an end, Yoongi guided you to the sofa, where he pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss. Then he whispered “let me make love to you” igniting a fire within you that burned with a fierce intensity.
As he began to undress you, his lips trailing kisses along your skin, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure he offered. With each touch, each caress, you felt yourself slipping deeper into ecstasy, your body responding eagerly to his every touch.
When he finally entered you, the sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that consumed you completely. Together, you climaxed together, lost in the bliss of each other's embrace.
As you fell asleep in your lover’s arms, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, you drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that you were exactly where you belonged: wrapped in the arms of the one you loved most in the world.
This is truly heaven.
☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·° ☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·° ☆.。.:*·°☆
☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·° ☆.。.:*·°☆.。.:*·° ☆.。.:*·°☆
hi!! hope you like it!! i had this idea last sunday while laying in my bed and i had to write it down, because yess!! my first time writing smut;) btw, this time a friend (an english one:)) helped me review it and added some adjectives that i never heard of😔🤞 (hope it’s readable i mean). sorry if i’m not active but my life is reallyy overwhelming😁 thank you for the followers and likes and all positive comments. love youuu🫶🫶🫶🫶
Ⓒ︎ whytryyy, all rights reserved, do not repost or modificate content
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taintedjeon · 6 months
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‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦
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✞ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alternative!yoongi x reader ✞ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k ✞ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: yoongi has tongue pierings, bigdick!yoongi, dirty talk, raw sex, riding, nipple play, nipple biting, minor hair tugging, size kink, using a polaroid during sex, mention of dacryphilia to open
disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.
series masterlist | main masterlist
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“Don’t hide your pretty noises. I want you to cry for me.” Yoongi emphasises his requests as he speeds up his pace. His lips bathing your shoulder in kisses as he makes his way up to the sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver under his touch.
His name leaves your lips in a sinful prayer for the man in between your thighs. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, all you’re able to do is feel him filling you to the brim with all of him as tears wet your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“You’re fucking perfect,” you hear Yoongi muttering into your chest as you move yourself up and down, impaling yourself on his cock, “treating me well, ni—ah, fuck baby!”
Yoongi’s head is thrown back against the plush grey headrest of the couch, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he grunts in pleasure. One of his hands rest on your hips, the warmth of his palm and the coldness of his rings decorating his lithe fingers causes shivers to run over your body.
He is incredible. Insatiable even. Yoongi knows your body better than you know it yourself. He knows just how to fuck you right, every single time.
With your body shaking and eyes screwed shut tight in arousal, you miss Yoongi reaching out beside him. A click, accompanied by a quick bright flash takes you by surprise, causing your eyes to flutter open.
Halting your movements, you peer down at Yoongi who is staring straight into your eyes — blackened, blown out and filled with lust. You clench your pussy around his cock and smile at the polaroid in his hands.
“Want to remember this moment.”
“Well let me help you,” you tell him as you grab at his hand and place it on your tits, guiding him to palm you. Yoongi is more than happy to indulge you and plays with your nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at the bud, watching it harden under his touch. You lace your fingers with his and then watch as he snaps a new image of him groping you.
One of your hands comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers gripping into his long strands of raven hair and giving them a soft tug in that way he loves. You lean down and kiss Yoongi with a surge of urgency. It’s wet and messy as your tongues tangle and lips smack against each other. His dual tongue bars give the kiss an added edge as he usages it to his advantage to lick against your lower lip before pulling at the skin in between his teeth. From below, you feel Yoongi lift his hips causing the tip of his cock to press deeper inside of you. A strangled moan slips past your kiss bitten lips at the welcomed pleasure.
Yoongi is thick and heavy inside of you, stretching you loose in ways no man ever has done before. Sex with Yoongi is always exciting and with added kinks to explore with each other, he always leaves you wanting more every time.
“How’s my angel doing?” He whispers as he plays about with the settings on the camera before pointing the lens back in your direction.
“G-good, want to keep going—fuck!” You curse at the end as he moves his hips again and snaps another image of you as your face contorts in unadulterated pleasure.
“G’on, move for me princess, show me how cock drunk you get for me, yeah.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slid your hands across his chest, tracing the lines of the dragon tattoo that spans across his well built upper body. Through lustful eyes, you watch as Yoongi bites his lip at your touch and you keen, knowing that you’re the one to bring Min Yoongi down to this state with you.
Lifting your hips, you glide your cunt from his base to the tip, managing to feel every vein that wraps around his pretty length.
“Fuck, wait stay there. Let me get a picture of this, holy shit…” Yoongi proclaims and takes the third picture on the polaroid. “Don’t move. Keep yourself hugging my tip, fuck you gotta see how wet you got my cock princess.”
You do as you’re told and you keep your body positioned above him, cockhead nuzzled snuggly in your small hole as you await the polaroid to print the film.
Minutes pass and it doesn’t take long for your legs to start trembling from your muscles being stagnant in this position for a little longer than you’re used to.
“Yoongi, I wanna fuck!” Your protest comes out whiny as you fight the urge to drop yourself down to begin fucking him again.
The sound of the polaroid printing is heard between the both of you and you watch as Yoongi reaches for the film, shaking it in the air for a few seconds before looking at it.
He groans, and you feel arousal build up and leak onto Yoongi’s cock. The sounds that Yoongi creates, every moan, every rumble of his chest pushes you to keep still.
Next thing, Yoongi is twisting the picture around for you to see with your own eyes and what a sight it was. His length looks swollen with use, hard and stunningly decorated in those pretty veins you enjoy giving attention when he allows you. His length glistens under the flash of the camera from the juices he has spilled from your pussy and now it’s your turn to moan.
“Can you see too? The way I barely fit inside you…” he trails off. “Look at you struggling to take my fat cock in your tight cunt, I’ve never seen anything so fucking stunning. This is art.”
Warmth spreads around your body at his words as you look at the image as he speaks to you with so much filth. You flutter around him, utterly brain dead from Yoongi’s cock.
You’re not given enough time to think before Yoongi rocks his hips up, stroking your walls beautifully as he pulls you down to bury himself back in the hilt of his home which is your pussy. Tears gather in your eyes, giving them a sparkle that Yoongi loves to coax from you as he throws the camera back to the side in order for him to guide you up and down his throbbing dick.
The burn in your thighs is present and makes itself apparent as you continue to work your muscles into overdrive as you ride Yoongi like your life depended on it. Yoongi wraps both his hands around your back, palms resting against your clammy skin as he whispers filthy praises and prays of you into your skin, absolutely lost in the lust that is you and your tiny cunt.
You scratch at his chest, digging your nails through the dragon tattoo, breaking the skin and knowing that there will be a trail of red desire marked into his skin for the evening.
“You’re so big!” You hiccup, feeling Yoongi increase the speed of his hips into you, his ego swelling at your words.
“Ah, your pussy is leaking all over me, making such a mess of me angel.” Yoongi punctuates his words with a firm buck into your cunt, Yoongi highlights the loud squelching sounds of your ministrations.
One of his hands finds your wrist and brings it up to his mouth where he places kiss after kiss on each knuckle. He guides your hand further down until it finds the column of his throat and you rest there.
“G’on princess, choke me a little,” Yoongi grunts through gritted teeth and so you do as you’re told, applying a light amount of pressure around Yoongi’s throat. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens in pleasure, his tongue coming out to lick at the corner of his lips. The glint of his tongue ring makes you whine. Your body manages to fight through the overstimulation of his cock fucking into you over and over again as you take over as much as Yoongi is allowing you.
Now, you’re using each other and it’s never felt so fucking pleasurable. You eye the polaroids that Yoongi had taken early scattered around the sofa around his body and you smirk as the tears are rolling down your cheeks in small rivulets. You are both drowning each other in sex so intense, the pleasure borders on almost painful.
With each drop off your hips, you feel him deep in your stomach. Your body burns in overexertion but you don’t stop until you’ve both reached your ends.
“I’m taking you so well, Yoongi, can you feel me!?” You swivel your hips as you ask.
“Nobody got a pussy like yours… best pussy I’ve ever fucked, princess, swear.” Yoongi rasps through your hold on his throat. At his words, you squeeze your fingers just a little tighter around his throat.
“You gonna come, angel?”
You nod at him. “I’m so close, please. Please, I need to!” You beg him to let you finally reach your climax, your hips working faster.
“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” you could hear that his voice is straining as his hips become sloppier in their movements. Your spare hand reaches for the headrest of the sofa behind him.
“Fuck, yes, keep going, keep going, I’m gonna fill you to the fucking brim, gonna watch you bloat with my cum,” Yoongi is loud, not afraid who around you both hears his promise to you. 
The living room fills with moans and skin slapping against skin as the pair of you use each other to reach your climaxes. Finally, yoongi leans forward and takes a nipple in between his teeth and runs both his tongue bars over the hardened bud back and forth. Yoongi bites down hard and in return, your pussy vices him in and your hands release from his neck. All at once, Yoongi’s breath hitches as the air returns to his burning lungs and comes inside of you, filling you with his hot sticky white seed as he paints your body with filthy praises.
Soon after, you meet your orgasm shortly behind his own. Your body stills as you tremble above him as your body releases your arousal all over Yoongi, making a mess of him and probably the couch underneath.
He is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you as your body twitches through your orgasm. Yoongi can’t help but give tiny shallow thrusts to help aid you through it.
You both bask in the glow of intense sex as you both collapse onto each other. Yoongi is the first to move as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up off of his softening cock. The feeling of him moving through your sensitive cunt causes you to hiss but you pout when he has fully removed himself.
After catching his breath, Yoongi guides you to lie down on the sofa as he reaches once more for the polaroid.
“Yoongi, what’re you—,” you’re cut off with the familiar click of the camera and bright flash momentarily brightening up the living room before bathing it back in it’s natural darkness.
“I can’t fuck you that well and not get the money shot, can I?” You hear the smirk in his voice. You feel a hand wrap around your ankle and then your legs are being pried apart slowly. “C’mon, let me see how messy you are for me, yeah?”
Now it’s your turn to laugh as you indulge Yoongi in his request, giving him the opportunity to get the device up close and personal to your cunt before snapping a new image.
“Yeah, these are definitely going into the wank bank for later.”
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© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.
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prettypearlypisces · 2 months
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𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 (𝔪) | 𝔪𝔶𝔤
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: yoongi x f.reader
𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: m (18+); MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 | 𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢 | 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: complete | one-shot | fluff and smut
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: "I think I can help you sleep better."
𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 & 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: smut, explicit language, sleepy yoongi struggling with burnout :((( , taking a shower together <3, long hair Valentino yoongi 🧎🏻‍♀️, dick bulge through the silk pants 🫡 , oral sex (m. receiving), flexible dom/sub dynamics (they each take charge at certain points, but it's nothing intense), praise (yoongi calls her "pretty/good girl" 🫠), slight hair pulling/grabbing, face-fucking, finger sucking + a paragraph talking about Yoongi's hands, a lil bit of gagging, cum swallowing, might as well add body worship from how much reader talks about how gorgeous he is, yoongi's thighs ♡, spit/drooling, slight ball play, reader sniffs the balls because she's like that lmao, reader doesn't touch herself or cum, this list is nasty but I promise you they're very sweet with each other 😭, cuddling <3, this is about sucking dick it should not be this long
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ~4.8k
𝔞/𝔫: hello! this is my first fic ever on this blog. I rewatched all the Valentino Yoongi content recently, saw him looking scumptious in these pajamas, and next thing you know we're here 💀 I haven't written anything this long (that is non-academic) in a very, very long time, so I would ask that you please be nice and bear with me. But I do plan to get better the more I write. That said, I hope you enjoy! 🤍
𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔞𝔰𝔨 | 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 | 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
“You need to relax.” 
Your voice was insistent but gentle, much like your fingers buried in Yoongi’s thick hair, and he closed his eyes and leaned into your palms as you worked shampoo into his scalp. A quiet whimper escaped his lips as you circled your fingertips against a tense muscle at the base of his skull. 
He was overworking himself again, frustration making his shoulders taut and wearing his patience thin. His eye bags were puffy, exhaustion evident in his eyes. It pained you to know that he hadn’t given himself a break over the past few weeks. Yoongi was so passionate, something you adored about him – but you knew that when inspiration struck, sometimes he had the tendency to push himself too hard, for too long. Now it left him on the brink of burnout. 
That’s where you came in. Yoongi had been glued to his desk before you came in and practically forced him from his chair. He made weak protests as you dragged him out of his home studio and forced him into the bathroom, but he’d shrugged off his clothes anyway as you turned on the warm water. 
Now you both stood under the warm sprinkle while you washed his hair. Yoongi let out pleased purr-like sounds from deep in his throat that made you grin. He reminded you of a wet, docile cat resigned to its bath time. 
When it was time to rinse, you cupped your hand over his brows to block any soap from getting in his eyes as water poured over his head. Then you took your fingers and gently rubbed along his neck to clean him and hopefully melt any tension there. Yoongi held your wrist and gently rubbed his thumb along your skin, his way of giving you a silent thank you. Warmth bloomed in your chest, so you planted a kiss on his fingers – your own silent “you're welcome” that wouldn’t disrupt the nighttime quiet. 
You held him close, rubbing down his chest and stomach with a soapy rag. Thick bubbles lathered from his shoulders all the way down to his fingers before swirling down the drain. 
Around his hips and butt, you were sure to be gentle, even gripping one of his cheeks playfully. Yoongi pouted, whiny, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the red that dusted his cheeks before his face broke out into a small, tired smile. Meanwhile, Yoongi set about reaching down to clean himself. He wasn’t overtly prude but he did always prefer to do this part himself, so you crouched down carefully and made your way down his legs. 
You focused on softly rubbing down Yoongi’s legs and even leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on the skin. You couldn’t explain it, but you adored Yoongi’s thighs. You loved touching them, holding them, kissing them. Biting them. A small pool of heat bloomed in you as you realized that you were now eye-level with his cock too, driving you to give him a more forceful, hungry kiss. The thought of taking him into your mouth, right here and now, crossed your mind, fueled by the simmering image of Yoongi’s head thrown back in bliss, body glistening from the shower water. Unfortunately, you knew from experience that water wasn’t conducive to sex, and the thought of soap getting in your eyes and nose was not in the least bit appealing. 
With great restraint, you pulled away and scrubbed his calves and feet. As soon as you were done, Yoongi hauled you up and scrubbed you down with the same gentle ease as you had given him. He made sure to shield your hair from the pouring water, since you’d clipped it up to keep it from getting wet. Your tummy quivered when Yoongi passed his hand between your legs, a small look of mischief glinting in his knowing eyes when you bit your lip. But he continued his downward path, leaving you feeling warmer than steam. 
A part of you ached, feeling how tender he was being with you, even when he was tired, even when you were the one trying to take care of him. He always was. Yoongi’s eyes flickered down to your face and must have seen something in it, because his eyes were soft when he met your gaze again. 
“I want to take care of you, too,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but the shy turn of your lips was enough to tell him how you felt. 
When you were done, Yoongi shut off the shower and reached out to wrap you in a spare towel, rubbing your shoulders and back all the way down your torso and legs. Then Yoongi deftly unwound the towel and used it to dry himself. You wrinkled your nose.
“You should use your own towel,” you complained, but there was no malice in your words. Yoongi only chuckled and pulled you close. 
“I’m tired,” he countered with a playful whine. “And impatient.” 
A laugh bubbled from your mouth and he rubbed his nose against your temple. Your cheeks warmed when he shifted and you felt a subtle tell-tale poke against your hip, but before you could say anything, he pulled away with a soft rub on your tummy to slip into his pajamas and finish his night routine. 
You were left to do the same, but now you felt anything but sleepy. 
The festering heat that had been lingering inside you now sparked into a deep desire. As you pulled on your pajamas – a simple tank top and sleep shorts – you thought of Yoongi’s hands on you, thought of his skin underneath your own wandering palms. 
Then you chided yourself. Don’t be selfish, you thought. He’s tired. Let him rest. You knew it was true. Yoongi was probably exhausted and would have no energy to do what you wanted, and it wasn’t fair to expect that of him right now. Besides, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep him up longer than you already had. 
You made your way to the bedroom, which beckoned you with its deep blues and cozy greys. 
Yoongi’s room was a nighttime haven. He liked to keep it as comfortable as possible, with soft carpets and downy pillows. Next to his large bed sat a settee, your robe robe sprawled across it from when you’d tossed it before the shower.
Once you sat on the plush duvet, you almost immediately felt your eyelids become droopy. You were almost glad for the gentle tug of drowsiness, which quelled your desire enough to make sleep bearable. 
Until Yoongi came into the bedroom – and any thoughts you had about sleep immediately evaporated. 
His pajamas were black silk, the fabric sleek like ink against his skin in the low light of your bedroom. He didn’t seem to notice the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him while he riffled through his bedside drawer for something. Socks, maybe. You couldn’t be sure, not when your mind suddenly felt hazy as you traced the line of Yoongi’s body down, down until – Oh God, was that the outline of his cock?
Swallowing almost became impossible from how heavy your tongue suddenly felt in your mouth, your eyes hungrily taking in every delicious detail of the man in front of you. His dark hair, the curve of his lips, the small shadow that pooled in the divot of his collarbone, making you want to bite bite bite.
You didn’t know why these pajamas were driving you up the wall, especially when Yoongi had been naked in front of you not long ago, but they were. They pulled your eyes to him and sparked your dampened libido back to life. 
“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Yoongi’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. Dark eyes and a small smirk met your eyes when you finally looked up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Fuck. He knows.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks, warm and red. Of course he would. He knew you. He knew you’d been aching for him ever since the shower, knew that you wouldn’t ask for what you wanted because you were supposed to be making sure he rested. But as your eyes fell again shamelessly to his veiled cock, you realized that he was just as needy as you. 
Yoongi’s gaze was the same – knowing, wanting – when you met it again, but the red of your cheeks disappeared as your lips parted in an impish smile. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged as you stood up from the bed, “just thinking.”
You closed the distance between you two, until the familiar smell of him, warm and woodsy, filled your head. 
“I think I can help you sleep better,” you said, your finger sliding up his chest and playing with the lapel of his sleep shirt. The look Yoongi gave you made you want to get on your knees right there and then. 
Yoongi’s breath was warm and sent goosebumps up your arms when he said, low and oh-so-quiet, “Show me.”
I will your eager smirk said as you took his hand. 
He followed you to the settee nestled in the corner of the room and landed with a quiet poof against the cushions when you pushed him backwards and immediately kneeled between his legs. 
A sly glint shone in your eye as you smoothed your hands down Yoongi’s chest, his heartbeat strong and steady, then brought them up and down his thighs over the luxurious slip of his silk pajamas, the fabric the only barrier keeping you from touching his skin.
Yoongi let you take your fill of him, leaning back against the cushions and watching you with amused eyes that made you only more eager to please him. As you worshiped him with your palms, the need to feel him everywhere overcame you. To smell him, touch him, taste him. 
Your hand ghosted over where his cock was hidden, and you nearly moaned feeling the slowly-stiffening bulge. A devious bite of your lip as you looked up at him, your hands reaching for the hem of his pants. “Can I take these off?” 
Yoongi huffed out a laugh, beautiful and bright. The sound made your heart swell. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sunk lower in his seat, spreading his legs wider. “Go for it.”
The pants were off in seconds and pooled around his ankles. Miles of milky white skin seemed to stretch on forever as Yoongi let you run your hands over him; his legs, his hips, his stomach and chest as your hands roamed under his shirt. You quickly unbuttoned it too, leaving his chest bare for you. 
Yoongi’s dark eyes brimmed with budding arousal but still shone playfully as he watched you. A tremor ran through him as you gently scraped your nails down the skin of his navel, right above his cock. Goosebumps traveled up Yoongi’s stomach and a quick glance upwards let you know that his nipples had stiffened, but you kept your eyes on the real prize.
Semi-erect and already stiff at the base, Yoongi’s cock was flushed dusky pink at the tip. Desire coursed hot and molten through you, your hands hot as you shifted eagerly on your knees. You couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth.
Leaning in, you pressed small, fleeting kisses around his thighs, avoiding his cock entirely, getting him worked up from the teasing sensation of your lips on his skin. In truth, it helped hold you back as well. Yoongi’s pretty honey skin always filled you with the desire to mark him up. The temptation to suck on it, bite it, worry it between your teeth until bruises and bite marks bloomed all over him was strong, but instead you settled for gentle brushes of your lips.
Your hands still made their way up and around his legs, soothing and comforting. Closer and closer you made your way up, licking at warm skin. A breathy sigh made you look up: Yoongi’s head tilted back slightly as he looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. 
You lifted your head and rubbed around his hip bones. “Good?”
Yoongi hummed in response, the tension in him melting away as he gave you a slow smile. “So good I’m falling asleep.” 
“Don’t sleep on me.”
“Keep me up,” Yoongi challenged.
You rolled your eyes and pinched his thigh playfully. “Fine, I’ll get to it.” 
Settling in again, you licked your palm and fingers. You heard Yoongi gasp quietly as you wrapped your fingers around him, gently pumping your fist. His skin was hot, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Laying your head against his hip, you watched him close his eyes as he licked his lips. 
“Better?” you asked with amused eyes.
Yoongi nodded. “Much better.”
You hummed, pleased. “Good.”
Once Yoongi’s cock had completely filled out, you took a moment to admire it. 
You remembered, before ever seeing Yoongi naked, wondering if his cock was just as pink as his lips, his elbows, the knuckles of his long, knobby fingers. You had been pleased to find out that it was pinker, especially when erect. 
The head glistened red and sticky with precum. You felt your own mouth start to drool at the thought of it between your lips: the velvety skin, the heavy weight of it against your tongue, the taste of him. 
You rubbed his hips before taking his cock in your hand again. 
“So fucking perfect,” you breathed, the words pouring out of your mouth before you could even think, your breath ghosting tantalizingly close to his tip. Yoongi let his head fall back in bliss as you worked your fist around him, goosebumps racing along his hips. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him splayed out above you, knowing you were making him feel so good.
Feeling bold, you continued to stroke him and leaned down to where his balls hung low. Yoongi lifted his head, eyes sharp as your tongue laved over the velvety skin before gently sucking one of the plump balls into your mouth. You held his gaze, unwavering, matching the intensity of Yoongi’s dark eyes. You hummed, pleased, then smirked slightly before placing a wet kiss where your lips had just been. Then you did the same with the other, rolling it in your mouth gently. Yoongi’s soft tongue poked out to lick at his lips before he sucked in a shaky breath, reveling in the pleasure of you playing with him
Precum slipped between your fingers and filled the room with the slick sound of the glide up and down his shaft. The wet, filthy sound drove your lust to even greater heights, and the whine Yoongi let out when you suddenly stopped stroking made your cunt ache.
His eyes met yours and the smile you gave him was absolutely sinful when you gripped your fingers around his tip to press your nose against the base of his cock. Yoongi covered his face and huffed out a laugh that broke into a strangled moan as you inhaled the clean, heady scent of him.
You hummed lowly. “Fuck, you smell so good, Yoon.” 
A bead of precum dripped from the slit of his cock, and you circled it around the head with your thumb, unrelenting, until it was sensitive and glistening. You relished the way his thighs tensed at the motion, the way his hands tensed, the way he squeezed his eyes shut. A teasing lick to his head. A strangled “shit” under his breath. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to have him moaning, loudly. 
You wanted him, craved the taste of him, the feel of him in your mouth—
“Can’t wait to taste you,” you said innocently, then taunting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like me to suck on your cock?”
You licked your lips, watched Yoongi’s eyes follow the movement of your purposeful tongue, then licked up the underside of his swollen, needy shaft. A low moan tumbled from Yoongi’s mouth as he shifted his hips. “Fuck—yes, please.”
Satisfied with his desperation, you brought your mouth down around the aching tip of his cock. Yoongi sucked in a breath and gripped the cushions as you teased your tongue over his slit. The salty taste of precum burst in your mouth. Slick and warm, it coated your tongue. You moaned. This is what you wanted.
After a few moments toying with his slit, you circled the sensitive rim around the crown of his cock, drawing breathy moans from Yoongi’s lips. Then you trailed your tongue down to the spot underneath where you knew he was sensitive and slowly licked it with the flat of your tongue. 
Yoongi had shown you how he liked to tease it with the pad of his finger sometimes while he masturbated – quick or languid, always unrelenting until he’d managed to spurt all over himself. He loved when you played with it afterwards, making his hips spasm from the oversensitivity. More precum dribbled from his tip which you suckled up with deliberate licks.
Yoongi threw his head back and stilled as your tongue flicked over the spot quickly, assaulting it with your tongue. “Fuck,” he hissed, his whole body tense above you. 
Suddenly, a dull pain lanced across your scalp. Yoongi’s hand laced into your hair and pulled your head closer, making you whimper at the rough treatment.
“Down,” he said, tugging again, and holy shit, just one word uttered gently from him had you clenching your cunt desperately like a bitch in heat. Happy to comply, you sunk your mouth down around him, keeping your eyes on him the way he liked it. You held your head low for a moment before pulling off. “Good girl,” he praised with a subtle groan. Yoongi gave you a couple seconds to regain yourself, rubbing soothing circles on your abused scalp, before saying, “Again.”
Eager, you repeated the motion and held your mouth there for a moment, eyes closed as you swallowed around him. When it was time to pull off, you sucked in a breath with your eyes locked on his slick cock. To see it flushed and gleaming with your spit made your stomach twist with lewd excitement. A whispered “fuck” left Yoongi’s lips as a string of spit stretched from his tip to your lips, and you preened when Yoongi reached out rub his thumb soothingly across yourcheek. 
“You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock,” he said, and you felt dizzy with arousal when he gave you his beautiful smile. He was gorgeous — dark hair and deep eyes and flushed cheeks. Tender touches and gentle praise. The sudden fondness in Yoongi’s eyes clashing with his filthy words and the fact that his cock had been down your throat not five seconds ago gave you momentary whiplash.
Yoongi’s smile melted into something cruel as he dragged his thumb down your mouth, breaking the sticky string of spit, before pushing it past your lips. Feeling cocky, your tongue came out to lick obscenely around his thumb and you moaned around it as if it were his cock. 
It might as well have been; you loved Yoongi’s hands, his long fingers and rough palms. His beautiful instruments, when he was strumming the guitar or playing the piano. You loved how gentle they were with you, brushing back your hair, holding your hands, cupping your cheeks. But you also loved how filthy they could be: rubbing your clit and fucking your wet cunt until it made obscene squelching sounds and dripped down his palm. You felt your cunt drool filthily onto your panties, surely soaked by now.
Two more fingers pressed past the gates of your lips as Yoongi fingered your throat gently. Fuck, such a filthy sight had Yoongi gripping his still-aching cock, groaning at the way your throat tightened around his digits, the way spit spilled from your mouth. 
“So fuckin’ eager, like you were made for me.” Yoongi’s voice rumbled low from his throat, his chest heaving slightly, making you grip your knees. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and tilted your chin up, your hazy eyes now open. A surprised squeak left your mouth as Yoongi leaned down and kissed you sweetly on the lips. His soft hair ticked your cheeks. 
“Just a little more, yeah?” he said, holding your face close to his, and you nodded, dazed. Your eyes locked onto his pink lips that shone with your own spit and his precum. The sight shouldn’t have excited you as much as it did, but it sent a thrill up your spine.
Then Yoongi was leaning back and licking his lips. “Then c’mere, pretty girl, come finish sucking my cock.” 
And how could you say no to that?
It wasn’t long before Yoongi’s wet cock was back in your willing mouth. You circled your tongue around his tip reverently, Yoongi’s hips canting into your mouth when you looked up at him with those slutty, wanton eyes. 
“Good girl—just like that,” he groaned. “Keep going and don’t fucking stop.”
Your pussy tingled and you thought you might be able to cum just from the way the center seam of your shorts was rubbing against you. Even if you didn’t, you would be more than satisfied. You loved making Yoongi feel good, and you loved his cock. You could spend eternity on your knees worshiping Yoongi and his beautiful tool. The glide of him in and out of your mouth was perfect, so solid and warm that you couldn’t help but think about the way it felt when he slid into your cunt, filling you up just right, slippery with your wetness—
God, if you weren’t so hell-bent on making sure Yoongi slept well tonight, you’d push him down and ride him until morning. 
You gagged a bit in surprise when Yoongi gave a particularly quick thrust into your mouth, but fuck it if the sound he made wasn’t worth it. The deep, breathy groan went straight to your cunt, and you moaned around a mouthful of cock. Pleasant vibrations traveled down Yoongi’s shaft and made Yoongi’s grip on your hair tighten. 
“This okay?” he asked, breath strained. Yoongi’s fingers tensed and, as if he could sense the sharp pain in your scalp, immediately went lax.
So considerate, you thought fondly to yourself. You’d be smiling if your mouth wasn’t so busy. 
You brought Yoongi’s free hand to where his other fingers were already threaded in your hair. A garbled hum and a nod was all it took for him to hold your head in place as he rut his hips into your mouth, letting out a string of moans while your fingers played with his balls. 
Spit slid past your lips and dripped down your chin with each of Yoongi’s thrusts into your mouth. You felt so thoroughly used, sitting for him so prettily on your knees, not even touching yourself while he chased his release.
“You’re doing so good, so fucking good,” he said, sucking in a breath, head thrown back against the couch. 
Yoongi’s hand pushed you down until your throat contracted around him, tears welling along your waterline. You didn’t mind though — Yoongi was desperate to cum, chasing blissful orgasm, and you were happy to give it to him. 
As he thrust into your mouth, you licked along his shaft before flexing your tongue to rub against the rim of his cockhead. Yoongi’s hips stuttered and he let out a shaky breath. You peeked up at his blissful face, seeing his half-lidded, hazy eyes. Yoongi was close, teetering on the precipice of his release. His stomach was tense as you slobbered over him, the sound of your slick lips and his voice mingling in a lustful torrent. 
You groaned eagerly, letting your tongue do the work until, finally, Yoongi came. The deep, breathy groan he let out was going to stay with you forever. So was the sight of Yoongi in the throes of his orgasm: head thrown back, thighs spread, skin flushed pink all the way down his neck. The veins snaking up his arms were taut, stark under his skin. 
Yoongi’s brows were furrowed and his plush lips parted. His hips stilled as he pushed you down securely on his cock. It pulsed hotly in your mouth, spurting a thick pool of cum on your tongue, making you moan obscenely. Yoongi’s breath hitched as you closed your eyes and swallowed his seed, palm still cupping his balls. 
Like his length, they throbbed as his cum was spent. You fondled them gently to milk more out of him, not wanting to miss a single drop. You loved Yoongi’s cum — the taste of it, the feeling of it sliding hotly down your throat and settling deep in your belly. Your eyes became glassy at the thought, a dopey smile spreading across your lips. 
Yoongi gently slid himself from your mouth to paint your lips with the last drops of his cum, watching you reverently drink everything he had to offer until there was nothing left. Feeling naughty, you licked across his overstimulated tip one last time, and Yoongi shuddered, his thighs closing around her head. 
“Brat,” he huffed, but he was smiling. Your smile was just as bright as you swallowed the sticky mess on your lips and lapped at his cock with little kitten licks to clean him up. A kiss was planted on his knee before you pulled up his pants and tucked him away. “Only for you,” you said with a pat to his thighs. 
Yoongi re-buttoned his sleep shirt and pulled you up into his lap to smooth down your unruly hair. He gently ran his fingers across your chin, wiping away the mess of his escaped cum and your spit. Then he kissed you. You hummed happily against his lips before Yoongi pulled away.
“Thank you,” he whispered, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “You always make me feel so good.”
It was amazing, really, how you could suck his cock so unabashedly on your knees, but the gentlest words from his mouth had you blushing shyly. 
He took your hand in his and led you towards the bed where he pulled you down with him, his frame enveloping yours as the comforter fell over you two. Yoongi intertwined your fingers and rubbed his thumb across the back of your knuckles. 
He was always like this in the afterglow of whatever you two did – affectionate, attentive, a bit sleepy. Yoongi was, at heart, a passionate, considerate lover who thrived on soft and tender moments such as these. You could never get enough of it; the way he touched you, how tender and safe he made you feel. 
He rubbed his nose against your hair and slipped his hand across your stomach, solid and warm. 
“You didn’t cum?” he asked, and you shook your head no. Yoongi drummed his fingers soothingly against your skin. “You want to?”
The offer was tempting, but you felt yourself close to crashing now that you had burned through your lust, and although you couldn’t see him, you knew Yoongi must have been even sleepier than you. 
You brought his hand close to your chest and kissed his fingers sweetly.
“Later. I’m sleepy,” you said, then sighed. “Besides, I feel like I need another shower.” 
Indeed, a cool layer of sweat now covered your skin, along with some spit and cum that had dripped onto your chest. Not to mention how sticky your panties felt in your shorts. 
Yoongi chuckled sleepily and tightened his arm around you. “Okay,” he agreed, holding you close before his fingers ventured down and pressed over the seam of your shorts. He rubbed a slow, deliberate circle over your clothed mound, a teasing phantom touch that reminded you of the pleasure he could give you with those fingers. His lips were hot against your throat, and you shivered as he gripped your hip in his free hand and said, so close to your ear that you shivered, “Later.”
The thought of his head between your thighs, suckling on your poor pussy while his deft fingers prepared you for his cock, flooded your mind. You could only imagine soaking him down to the base as he slipped inside you, making you roll your hips against his fingers. 
You nodded quickly, breathily. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 
Yoongi’s breath was like a balmy breeze on your neck as he chuckled. “Thought so.” He placed a kiss under your ear before snuggling close, finally letting himself sleep. Your own eyelids fell shut, and Yoongi’s heartbeat lulled you like a gentle rhythm in your ear until sleep overcame you too. 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆞
Copyright © prettypearlypisces. Do not copy, rewrite, repost, translate, or otherwise alter or claim on any platforms.
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months
Text
Stress Relief ~ MYG [M]
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WORD COUNT: 1.1K
GENRE: SMUT MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! Established relationships, soft Yoongi having a bad day (This was supposed to go out back in October but I'd gotten this mixed with another member)
WARNINGS: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, free use kink (all consensual between partners!) small praise, “pretty little slut”
PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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You woke up to the feel of the bed shifting behind you before your neck was pampered with soft kisses, Yoongi’s hands ran over your body gently as he pulled you closer to him. You could tell just from the energy in the room that he was a little stressed out about something but before you could ask if everything was already Yoongi had already started speaking,
“Want you,” Yoongi grunted like a caveman as he began rolling up the nightshirt that you were sporting, your whole body burning as you let out a tiny giggle. The two of you had spoken a few weeks ago about a kink you wanted to explore and Yoongi was more than happy to indulge in it. 
In fact, it had been something the two of you took great joy in and Yoongi took full advantage of the opportunity whenever he could and each of you enjoyed it more than the other. You had no idea why but being "free use" for Yoongi made you giddy with excitement, not knowing when it was going to happen but being ready for him made it all exciting. Not to mention you were doing it with someone you trusted more than anyone else in the world, you had safe words and actions implemented in case either of you ever needed an out.
"Bad day?" You quizzed, it was already morning which meant Yoongi had more than likely been struggling at work all night long and was coming to use you to let his frustration out and the thought of that had you dripping for him.
"Don't want to talk about that," He mumbled as he began to pull himself free of his boxers, needily grinding himself against your ass like a dog in heat. 
"Need you," He whined out, not caring about how he sounded at that moment in time, all he cared about was getting to feel his girlfriend around him something he'd been craving for hours.
"You're so whiney baby, you want me to take control?" You teased before he pushed you forward slightly, bending you down while you were laid on your side.
"I want you to shut up and take my cock like the good little slut you are," Yoongi hooks his fingers on the waistband of your panties and pushes them down before throwing them behind him,
"God, you're so fucking hot." He groaned, a small and gentle slap landing on your left asscheek making you squeal out in surprise. Yoongi smirked to himself he'd been thinking of this all night, coming home and getting to use his pretty girlfriend to his heart's content. 
Yoongi pumped his length in his hand, grunting a little as he twitched he'd been needing you for hours now and he wasn't going to waste any more time so he pushed the head of his cock into you. Your whimper cut through the silence of your bedroom as Yoongi smirked. God, he always loved hearing you whimper like that for him, all for him too. You were his dream girl and he was lucky he got you when he did and he wasn't going to be a fool to let you go ever.
"Always so ready for me aren't you, baby girl?" He asked, reaching down and rubbing your clit with his thumb a curse word falling from your lips as you began bobbing your head up and down currently doing your best to buck your hips back to him. Desperate for more of him than just the tip that he was giving to you, but he tutted at you slapping your left asscheek gently once again,
"Now who's the needy one?" He grunts, pushing into you at an agonisingly slow pace as you let out a whine of his name, your pussy clenching around him as he let out a moan. It didn't matter how many times the two of you had sex it was always the perfect fit for him, he let himself revel in the feel of you as he let his hands roam over your breasts rubbing them softly.
"You always feel so good around me," He hummed in your ear before gently placing a kiss on your temple. As much as you adored when Yoongi was gentle and sweet with you, you needed an orgasm as much as he did and you needed him to move,
"F-Faster," You hissed out, even though Yoongi was supposed to be the one in control he wasn't going to ignore an order from his girl,
"Fcuk, Yoongi, feels so fucking good," You moaned out as he began to move in and out of you at an erratic pace, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head,
"You like my cock baby?" He groans, thrusting harder into you as he holds onto your hips, skin slapping and filling the air as you cry his name out.
"You take it so fucking well don't you, my dirty little slut." He grunts as he looks down at you, his cock twitching as he tried to fight off the orgasm that was welling up inside of him but he could feel you. He could feel just how close you were from the way you tightened around him and the way your moans got quieter.
"Please...Please let me cum," You cried out, begging for your own release as he let out a growl. His hips slammed harder into you as he heard you begging for your own release.
"Cum on my cock," His fingers find your clit as he begins to rub small circles against it, your head rolling back against his chest rocking your hips in time with his.
"S-Shit! Shit!" You screamed out, your legs feeling like jelly as the tightness inside of your stomach snapped and you came around him. Hips bucking back as your whole body twitched, sending Yoongi over the edge right after you.
"I love you," He panted, pulling his cock free from you and looking down between your legs smirking proudly of himself.
"You're so pretty when you're stuffed full of my cum," He grunted, getting up from the bed and going to find a wet cloth to clean you up with.
"Want me to make some coffee and we can talk about work?" You quizzed as Yoongi sat between your legs, taking his time to gently clean you up as he shook his head at you.
"No, but stay in bed a little longer with me? I just want to cuddle you," He begged as you nodded, quickly making your way to the toilet before heading back to bed with him.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @choisoorin @heyjiminnie @btsiguess-kpop @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @gothic4under4lord @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @whitefoxgirl
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liveyun · 4 months
Text
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 | MYG (m)
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title. predator
summary. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of.”
pairing(s). yoongi x female reader (oc)
genre. gangster au, smut
warnings. kidnäpping but not much of its descriptions, corruption and weapons, double thoughts, an..gst? , explicit warnings under the cut :)
wc. 7.8k+
a/n 1 : if you feel like some parts feel familiar to you, it's because this was previously posted in my old blog around a year ago which was inspired by ‘that that’. but this is a newly written and re-edited one :)))
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taglist | main masterlist
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smut warnings : masturbation(f), voyeurism and mentions of exhibitionism, fantasizing, dirty talk , slight humiliation, pet names teasing, chains and gloves 😗 , so much of teasing dear lord, bondage 🫣 , gagging with panties, bondage, oral (f. and allusions to m.) and fingering (f), finger sucking and squirting :D
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“ f..fuck..”
Your eyes screw shut just the moment you feel your fingers working against the fabric of your clothed cunt, your wetness increasing with each flick of your fingers to your throbbing clit. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as your moments get a bit faster, feeling your slick pool around your entrance. It's your fingers who are working, but in your mind, those ring clad fingers are the ones touching you. Pleasing you.
The feeling of your panties being the barrier is very much uncomfortable, you need to take that off to feel yourself completely.
You harshly pull your panties down your legs, feeling the cool air hitting your slick heat, making you shudder as you hiss in anticipation. You can't deal with this anymore, you need to do something. Or else you'd completely go insane thinking about that man.
It just happened like a daydream. A few days ago, you can guess, flying away like hours.
You wake up to a strong headache with your vision being blurred and watery. A pair of black Jordan shoes tapping the floor, in slow motions, comes to your sight, as if waiting for something to come is all that you could see at that moment with dots growing in your vision. The moment you feel a bit more awake, your whole body aches so bad, it feels as if you've been trashed up.
Your whole body feels as wobbly as jelly all over. Whimpering, you try to move slightly, but fail with a broken sigh. That's when you feel a strong arm wrapping around your figure, hauling you up swiftly, and you let out a small gasp at the action. Your head spins at the sudden movement as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your breathing was strained as your chest heaves up and down, trying to gulp as much oxygen as you could. You realize that you're no longer lying on the floor, but rather. . .a firm, clothed chest, which rose and fell with each breath, as you felt the thrum of heartbeats resonating in your own eardrums with each second that ticked by. Your eyes fly open at the simple realization that you were being hugged by someone, and that someone smelled like the subtle notes of lavender with a delicate undertone of citrus.
Your cheeks heat up when you realize how attractive you find this and how much your tired body seeks for the comfort his warm body provides you in the simple embrace. You want this small moment of comfort to last a bit longer, as you try to snuggle in, but the guy seems to have different plans. He yanks your fragile body away from his own, snatching away the small warmth you had, a whine building up in your throat in exhaustion.
You don't dare to open your eyes which feel as if they're burning with hot tears, but you do feel the strong gaze piercing into your skull as you feel yourself still being in his embrace, him still holding you with a single strong arm wrapped around your waist.
His unrelenting embrace felt sensitive on your skin as your muscles feel tight and sore, and you try to wriggle around a bit. Your limbs protest with pain the longer you stand on both of them, knees close to be giving up. You struggle to stay awake and not surrender to the lull of pain and tiredness which wants you to.
You don't know where you are, or how you came here, but you surely know, you can surely feel that the room, or wherever you stand is freezing cold. Suddenly, the oppressive and eerie silence was shattered by a sudden and chilling sensation.
A cold, metallic object pressed against your chin, and your eyes once again flew open with your heart racing,realizing that it was the barrel of a gun.
Your eyes can only pass away the unshed tears which had accumulated, soon finding yourself so close to a mass of silky but messy black hair, and you realize that you've been pulled back to your kidnapper’s embrace.
It felt suffocating how his alluring scent still clouded your senses, now sending them to a hayware as you take in the close proximity. You feel his grip on you tightening, his malevolent breath hot on your ear. A sinister, deep whisper slithered into your consciousness,
“Don't even think about it.”
As if you could.
Your fingers flick lightly against your heat, right above the protective skin of the sensitive pearl. Sharp gasps leave your mouth, feeling the pleasure build in your lower stomach the more you work on your delicate parts.
You were sure you were trembling on the table you were seated with your legs spread wide open, your viscous arousal dripping down to the table and making a mess on it. Would he love that it's all because of him?
Gods, if anyone enters the room without any notice of your position, the first thing they'd capture is your bare, pulsing cunt. But you were way too turned on to think straight or think about the possible consequences. Or did it rather turn you on? You didn't know.
A thin layer of sweat covers your almost nude body, your breasts heaving out with each breath and nipples begging to be touched, pebbled by the cool air and pleasure. But you're way too desperate to do that yourself- your mind screamed his name, physically unable to make any noises. Him, him, him.
“Ask no questions and be good. No harm would be done to you if you cooperate.”
His voice was laced with nonchalance, yet emerging as a sultry whisper with a slight rasp. He puts down your worn out figure to a black, slightly worn out couch, which seemed hard and dull with the appearance, yet it was more comfortable than the hard floor you had been lying on for what your spine told were hours.
You nervously squirm under his strong and unrelenting gaze, thinking that he’s implying your desire to escape from here. But much to your horror, or even delight, you are already craving the gush of the odd warmth he provided you, even if that was for a second. You gulp down your saliva, feeling your almost cracked throat ache in the process.
Your stomach churns at how wrong yet right this feels with your morals flying off the horizon, yet, a part of you asks if the ‘morals’ you were taught were actually morals, or were just ideals.
He passes you a bottle of water, sliding it towards you on the table as he keeps down the shotgun, followed by a small ‘click’ at the metal touching the wood. Your heart nearly pops up at the sight of how worn out it looks, the metal shining under the room's lighting almost looks dangerous.
The luster it holds reminds you that something as used and small could be just as dangerous regardless of how worn out it could be.
“But if you don't cooperate, this gun won't, too.”
You ought to be shivering at the tone he uses, and a part of you does. Despite the blood chilling threat, an unexpected thrill course through your exhausted veins, finding your kidnapper's dark charisma strangely alluring.
Your pupils fix on his right hand which still holds the gun. To make sure the gun wouldn't accidentally fire, he gently pushed the safety switch on the side of the gun to the "on" position.
It was a small, reassuring click that meant the gun couldn't shoot, even if he accidentally squeezed the trigger. You, or anyone else would be surprised at your knowledge about the parts of a gun but you'd rather think about your father’s ignorance of the specific part your kidnapper was cautious enough to push at the specific moment.
You were too exhausted to think that you were only eight when you first saw a similar gun lying on the coffee table, left open by no one but your father.
Your breathing is back to somewhat normal now. What actually clouds your senses is how you're obliged to agree that a man so beautiful like him, you had seldom encountered any in your limited time you were given access to freedom, back home. Yet, it surprises you that he's not some affluent multi-millionaire but a gangster or rather, a predator.
His fingers are pale and slender, with rings full on display. Following the veins of his wrist were shiny black bracelets and shell bands on top. You'd think that the color contrasts his beautiful pale skin so dramatically, if you'd stare at it enough it's gonna feel like a painting to you. Your eyes never quit checking him out silently as he sternly tells you that if you tried escaping, it won't be good for you.
From head to toe, you try to be subtle, but you cannot deny now when you'd hear your friends talk about what power the attraction towards a man holds. A small part of you wished if he could catch you checking him up, if he'd know your yearning for him.
How good would his fingers feel inside you ?
The thought alone makes your pussy gush out more arousal, your free hand toying with your hardened nipples as you moan quietly, or you try to.
You know that he would be around nearby, just to make sure you're not escaping..but you had no plans for that. You are already familiar that he's not idle enough to be camping by the cabin the whole day, and you're straight up delusional to think that the nightly visits (?) are for you.
You silently hope and pray that no one comes to rescue you sooner, because going back meant you could no longer be around him, and you'll no longer be free as you are now, as ironic that seems.
The irony intensifies because you trust him more than you trust your own father who was however on the verge to sell you off for his own benefit, for money. At times you'd wish to normally see Yoongi, not as some hostage and your abductor. So far, his men have been good, providing you food and water, and even some drinks to keep you going. You could be even proud of yourself to befriend one of them, or well, to have the goon talk to you if that is considered as befriending. They're all bark and no bite, you think, because they try a bit too hard to play even at times when you ask them for a silly stroll outside.
And if that was all, you'd happily agree to live with Yoongi. the man who seemed ice cold at the touch of eyes, but you knew he had much more for you to explore. You already know that a calm man like him gets enraged at the push of his extremes, and that leaves you pondering.
What would he actually be when his inner self is leashed out, as he pins you to the wall, hot bodies pressed against each other?
Would he bend you over the same table you're fucking yourself on?
Shit. It feels so wrong, but why does it feel so good? You're tormenting your enlarged clitoris in tight circles, feeling more and more slick drip down your hole. You cry out a silent plea, feeling the coil in your lower tummy twist harder with every flick, every touch to your delicate heat.
“Ahn..” you whimper pathetically, suddenly picturing his slender fingers working on your cunt instead of yours. His tongue which often he struck out to wet his lips..would lick your cunt lik—
Before you know it, your eyes roll back to your head, the coil in your tummy snapping into two. A loud moan of Yoongi leaves your throat, feeling your clitoris throb even harder with your orgasm. You shut your eyes close as pure waves of pleasure hit you in the form of white, pleasure so intense that you're seeing dots in your vision. You've never come so hard before like this, feeling your hole clench helplessly around nothing.
You cease your moments when you feel yourself jerk with overstimulation at a certain flick and you know it's time to stop.
Shame washes over you as you straighten up your back to a better position.
Fuck.
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Yoongi was confused.
Or a bit concerned, even. It was nearly midnight when he was passing beside your cabin, already sure of you being well looked after. It was a small whimper which caught his notice and in the very first place it took him aback. He wondered what happened.
Though he had the most trusted men working under him, no one could ever know anything until something really happened. You can't risk anything. Worry itching in his veins, he advanced forward to the closed window of your cabin and listened closely. A string of profanities was all that he could hear, causing him to furrow his brows. Were you in pain ?
You weren't the target looked out for, merely just a bait. He did not want you to suffer, even if he knows that his men couldn't understand it at first when they bought you here. Even if he knows that he can’t explain it to you, he silently hopes that his further behavior could do that.
This was the reason why he immediately opened the door and the sight in front of him made his throat dry.
His eyes widened so slightly to see you spread out nude like an eagle on the table, your small hand pinching your erect nipples. Your head was lolled back and mouth hung open, occasionally the sweetest moans leaving your parted lips. his pupils shook violently to avoid travelling south and what he should absolutely not see. You were so desperately trying to get off, and he knew he should exit right away.
Fuck. He was definitely not a creep. Heat creeped up to his neck and cheeks at the realization and he turned back to leave.
Yoongi.
His name. You moaned his name and that upon reaching his ears, he needed to think. twice, thrice. With his head. the one on his neck, not with the one inside his pants, which twitched awake to life. He felt his heartbeat resonating in his own ears, and that left him feeling a single thing. Needy. He gulped, feeling his stomach churn with arousal and at the same time a gut feeling of this being wrong, and he couldn't think straight.
You let out a high pitched screech of his name with a strong of fuckfuckfuck, and he knew that you had already reached your orgasm. His cock now strained hard against the material of his pants, and Yoongi has to fight back a guttural groan from breaking free.
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“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought.”
You freeze, your breathing labored as you recognise the voice. Fucking fuck. Blood reaches upto your cheeks as you peer up slightly with shock and embarrassment, shame doubling over inside you. You see him, Yoongi manspreading on the old couch opposite to you with a nasty smirk painted on his handsome features.
Had he been watching you?
You blink, feeling your whole body burn with embarrassment. You'd realize that if he did, he heard you doing sinful things to yourself while moaning his name. You were supposed to be scared of him, he even once held you at gunpoint, but you're not even a tad bit scared of him.
You feel oddly safe with him, around him, even if you're sitting naked and vulnerable infront of him. Maybe it's a bad idea to be so comfortable. He's not as crazy as you. How embarrassing, you consciously and immediately shut your legs close, shrinking under his strong gaze, cheeks warm and throat dry.
You gulp in nervousness, his expressions remain stoic but his eyes shine with amusement. You feel a bit too self conscious now, hoping to find your shirt where you last left it. But your eyes betray you, vision trailing down to his hands, clad with fingerless gloves which rests at his meaty, thick thighs clad with black leather pants. His manspreading has you gazing directly on his crotch area, and fucking hell.
He's girthy.
His hard-on does tell you that maybe he's been looking at you for quite a long time..
Your face heats up more if possible as your eyes succumb up to his face, an open mouthed, cocky smirk evident in his features. He cocks a brow at you, narrowing his eyes slightly.
“I’ll take it that you like what you see.”
Fuck. Fuck.
You did. You really did, and much to your horror you feel your clit throb with arousal once again.
“What if it was someone else other than me who heard you? Did you really like putting up a show like that ? ”
a deep chuckle left his throat, his voice much deeper than you've heard it to be. Or maybe you're just hallucinating.
“ tsk, tsk tsk. moaning my name so loudly in the middle of the night. Are you so okay with your moans waking everyone up, kitten?”
Fuck. Your hole pulses with arousal at his words and you're unable to answer him. Kitten. The nickname makes your insides go jelly, heart thumping loudly in your chest.
Yet, just sitting up properly and lowering your head is all that you can do, biting down on your bottom lip. You're inappropriately horny for him, and the shameless arousal which spikes inside you knowing that he's just as aroused like you makes you dizzy. If you're being honest, you can't care about anyone else when he's around. You blame it on the bubbling lust inside you.
He can be intimidating, he is intimidating, but for sure no one has made you feel this safer than he does, ironically being your kidnapper. You feel cozy inside a cabin rather than the luxurious bungalow you've spent your whole life till now in.
You're crazy, because maybe a wrong move from your side and you'll lie lifeless on this same floor with no one to give a fuck. That's how it usually works.
Yet, you want to take the risk. You do want to fall prey to the predator.
Suddenly, you feel a harsh tug at your chin, your cheeks squished together and your lips painfully rounded to a pout. You feel the leather of the glove of his palm directly in contact with your chin, cradling your face. Your shaking eyes meet his own, calm but burning eyes, and he almost lets out a growl. a guttural growl that almost has you feeling fresh arousal heat up your pussy.
“Speak when you're being spoken to. "
His face is so close to your own that it almost feels heaven to see him this close. His black hair is no longer slicked back, but now open and it parts beautifully on his forehead, long enough to reach his nape. His thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and wooden brown eyes were darker than you'd have seen them. They're blown out, the dim lighting of the room merging the brown of his iris to the black of his pupil into a whole dark mass.
You're so close that if you could, you could count the number of pores on his flawless, pale skin, which always seemed like no expensive skincare could afford such a glow. Even in a situation like this, it almost makes you feel as if you're bound under his spell, a spell which has your body going lax and sanity leaving you in an instant.
His grip on you is firm, but not harsh. He makes sure it's not too much. but however it makes him feel slightly different, slightly more confused to see nothing but admiration in your own blown out eyes and it makes him frown.
Why would you look at him with such a gaze? He's not dumb. He knows that look. With his free hand he brings his fingers close to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, frowning with his lips sealed tightly. Almost hiding a groan inside his throat, he chastises,
“I don't think you understand that I can kill you anytime with the same hands which you seem to be very fond of.”
It's a subtle warning he tries to jeer. He knew as much as he wanted this, you wanted this more. But after this would be done, things maybe won't be the same.
He got no response back, which silently pissed him more. He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to confirm that it's not a delusion. He wanted you to say it out loud. He didn't know if feeling this way towards your hostage could be rational, but lust can make you feel a lot— and he didn't know if this was right.
Squeezing your cheeks a bit more harsher this time, his right hand traveled down slowly, tracing an invisible path on your skin, leaving sparks of desire behind its wake. You feel your pussy ache with need, nipples pebble up and you nearly stifle a whimper.
His hand reaches for your knee, in such a soothing manner, prying it open that so are your legs. But it doesn't advance any further. It just rests on your heated, damp flesh, almost as if hesitant to move forward.
Your face heats up when you feel his touch ignite a passion in you and you feel a gush of your arousal trickle down your thighs. Fuck, you honestly did not expect that the touch of the cool leather could burn your skin to hell. Given that the hand belongs to Yoongi, you’re nearly gone. You're forced to look at him directly as he's still holding your face and his gaze is no longer icy.
They hold a certain glint you assume as softness, the ridges of his eyebrows no longer tight. Yet his feline gaze remains so firm that it has you feeling your heart course a foreign sensation that you could grasp as....shyness. Slowly, you feel just his fingertips on your knee run forward to the flesh of your inner thighs, testing you. Teasing you.
You're going to go insane.
“Pweash..” a whine escapes your puckered lips even before you know it. He only seems subtly pleased, opting to gently stroke the flesh of your inner thighs. Gods, the touch of leather. Did he really have to do this? Your hole clenches helplessly, having him toy with you so close to where you need him the most.
“What was that?” he lets go of his hand cradling your face, and suddenly snakes his arm to your nude waist and pulls you close. So close that you'd look at him, your noses will touch. Close enough to feel his breath fanning on your cheeks, close enough to have his fingers toying with your thighs dance near the skin of your dripping heat. Close enough to have your bare chest press against his own clothed one.
You huff slightly, both in slight ache in your cheek muscles and frustration of how smug he is.
“ Please, Yoongi.. ”
The smugness in his face disappears and the arm on your waist tightens. Yet, he makes no move to inch forward towards your aching center, and you're really lured to push your hips down to his hands, for anything. To relieve the ache. You don't know what he's thinking right now, but the seriousness on his face— laced with that deep voice of his — is a huge turn on for you, and you're shameless to admit it.
“Do you realize how dangerous this is?You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of,” his voice is oddly cold as his gaze remains fixed on your own. His voice sounds. . . uncertain, somehow, but not hesitant.
“Do you not want this?” you ask him, your voice small as you suddenly realize that the cabin is beginning to get colder and colder. His head drops down, his hold on you slightly wavering, but nevertheless still there— and he shakes his head. Almost as if he's trying to convince himself about his own inner questions. As if he's denying them all.
“I don't fuck around with people I'm not supposed to fuck around with.” his voice is laced with a questioning tone, you notice, and his fingers resting on your inner thighs twitch. “You. . . you're just being used as bait.”
“I know.” you ache to cradle his face in your hands, but then you realize that it maybe is a bit more intimate than you'd think. He looks dejected at you knowing the information, about the possibility that maybe your own father won't spare your life. Now or later, it's perhaps inevitable that he'd suspect you being not liable enough about his family business secrets, and he'd get a way out. To have you removed from his path.
“Why. . .?”
His expressions morph to one of despair, and his eyebrows furrow. He was so fucking confused that why'd he be so affected by something as common as that. He knows it's not something odd for patriarchal leaders killing members of their own families just for the sake of their business— he has seen a lot of them through the course of years. And what hit him in the chest was how casual you were about it— almost as if you were aware of your family’s intention all along.
He did not know why whatever he felt inside his chest for you was oddly soft, something he strictly banished himself to feel. He could not. He had no room for softness inside him. no fucking way. He tried ignoring it, but as days turned to weeks, he knew that he subconsciously broke his own rule.
“What why?” you tilt your head in confusion.
“Why are you so cool about it?”
“It is what it is.”
“You don't reali—”
“I fucking do. I fucking want you, Min Yoongi. I fucking want to stay with you. Please.” his eyes widen and you see his pupils shake and the gears inside his brain rotate.
“I do realize that you've never ever taken the responsibility of a person on your own shoulders. Your team is capable enough to take care of themselves, and you perhaps are thinking that I,” He sighs at your words, shaking his head and pressing his lips to a straight line in a grimace.
He's considering everything, not because of you or him, but for both of you. For the future.
Your thumb caressed the subtle hints of a stubble on his chin, no longer feeling the pull to stay quiet. Not when you've finally got the chance to be. “...that I possibly can't do that,”
“Even if you do, you must know that there's no going back. No looking bac—”
“No looking back, Yoongi. I got it.”
You bring forward your hands to cup his warm cheeks within your palms. His eyes widen and his mouth parts slightly, and you'd almost think it to be impossible for a dangerous, intimidating gangster like him to be so adorable. Your hands travel to his nape, where the silver jewelry rests, carefully running your fingers on the edgy metal patterns.
Your face falls at the silence and the stoic countenance you're met with.
The way his heart thumped inside his chest at your words was enough of an evidence to him, but he knew it could be just another dangerous game. He has never been with any woman he's kept hostage over the years— and he'd thought it wouldn't be his first time.
He wants to believe you— he wants to believe the honesty and innocence reflected in your eyes, but there's that part of his brain which has learnt the harder way. Yoongi knows that a single mistake and his whole group would be hustled to the blazes of the vermillion.
“Why are you doing this?” his eyes bore into your own, two pools of endless obsidian, threatening to shallow you in the mysterious depths of them.
His hand near your thigh caresses further your neglected heat, and you jolt at the sudden touch. His face inches closer to you, once again, so daringly close that once again you can make out how fierce his eyes seem right now. His warm breath falls on your now sweat dried skin near your cheeks, and there's a spike in your heartbeat.
He expects an answer, you know that he's not going to say that out loud, and the leather of his glove on the skin of your thigh feels rather soft. Your gulp down a mouthful of air, preparing to say something out loud which you haven't ever.
“It's because I. . . I want to live. I want to be set free.”
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“Hnngh!!”
Some few moments ago, you were almost lured into thinking that you'll call it a night.
You felt like the gangster mode was switched off after your conversation, but he'd warned you that the conversation wasn't over yet. You'd breathed down a sigh of half relief and half wonder, pondering over how an act like. . .such, escalated to something you'd craved for. Embarrassment to confession.
But when his gloved pointer brushed the innermost skin of your thigh, your eyes widened as wide as saucers, looking up to him, who already had an open mouthed smirk painted on his face, almost as if he's amused.
“So how do you want me to fuck you?”
His crude words had a fresh wave of arousal pulsing out of you, and you'd gasped silently, accidentally batting your lashes at him. He'd groaned out loud, once again grabbing your face and pulling you close till his soft lips brushed over your own parted ones.
“Wasn’t that what you actually wanted, princess? Me to fuck you dumb?” you should've known that he indeed had a dirty mouth, but estimating how much it made your cunt throb and gush, you'd known that you didn't want him to stop. You'd moaned at his words, silently nodding furiously like a pathetic bitch.
“Did I or did I not tell you to speak when you're spoken to?” he'd growled right at your face, an arm snaking around your waist once again. His eyes had trailed down to your exposed breasts, and the hand on your waist had trailed closer to the swell of your boob. He'd licked his lips at the sight, but made no further move which had you squirming for his touch.
“Please Yoongi, please touch me. .”
A pleased smile had taken over his features at your pleas.
“Flashing these tits right on my face and then asking me nicely. Who am I to deny? Whatever princess wants, princess gets.”
And with that, he'd dipped down to your breasts, your back immediately arching up to his greedy mouth where he'd toyed with your hard nips till your breasts were spotted with blooming purple marks.
But right now, your throat already feels dry crying out his name repeatedly as you can only see the dark mass of raven hair peeking in between your thighs, tickling you over and over as his skilled mouth brings you closer and closer to a blinding climax.
Your eyes are glossy and your nipples hurt as how erect they are, but you cannot do anything about it. Your arms are restrained with the leather of Yoongi’s belt digging into your flesh, and the slight pain intensifies the sparks of pleasure traveling up your body from down your cunt.
You squirm with a muffled whine, eyes burning with tears at how many times your already sensitive cunt was brought closer to a teeth clashing orgasm, only to have it denied by him. He'd raise his head to look up at you, his lips shiny with spit and your arousal, absolutely smug about how his tongue alone has you fucked up completely. His gloved hands would stroke the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, gently bringing them closer to your sensitive clitoris.
His thumb would gently circle around the protective skin covering your nub and you'd muffle a needy moan, unable to speak because you'd riled him up so bad, he had to shove your panties down your mouth with a growl and a promise that when he's done with you, you won't be even able to hobble well.
Fuck, you were shameless to admit that him being in charge and asking you each time whether the belt hurt you, or did you really like that, made your pussy gush out more and more for him to devour it all up.
His tongue flicks right on the top of your clit, and your back arches like the nth time off the table at how light headed the pleasure is making you feel. You feel like combusting , but also, not quite yet with how his touches are intense but gentle. You're now on the edge to burst out to the sea of such a delicious torture of bliss— and you'd do anything for him to do it for you.
You grind your hips right on his face as his tongue laps down your arousal, sucking gently on your soaked folds as you feel your thighs shake with the little leeway he gives you. His nose nudges your clit and you shiver. His nose bumps against your flesh again, he's doing it exactly on purpose to have you writhing underneath him.
His face is flushed— hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and how dark his pupils are, you know that he's just as fucked as you are.
“This cunt is,” a lick to your soaked folds, the wet muscle nudging them open to dive in further, “fucking divine.” and he fucks his tongue right in, the vibration of his voice quivering through your body.
With a broken whine, you try to gyrate your hips to chase the immense euphoria he's bringing you, feeling your walls clench around his wet muscle. He fucks his tongue in a vicious manner, curling it up to touch the tips of your walls and fucking it back out; all whilst the plane of his nose rubs against your poor, tender clit with each commotion.
His tongue stills after he feels you grind against his face with a rough fervor and your velvety walls pulsate around his tongue. You whine at the loss of momentum, already having your peak being snatched away from you, once again.
His lips suck around your nether ones for a last, long caress and then parts away ; licking up his lips coated in your arousal and his spit, some of which dribbles down his chin. He's quick to collect them all using his fingers and hover over your figure; some of his dainty chains are long enough to brush over your bare clavicles, dangling over you.
His black shirt sticks to his body and you can almost figure out the planes of his body. It's completely unfair, you being completely naked and him being completely clothed. He seems to like the way you wiggle your hips underneath him, looking up at him with eyes you think you weren't capable of batting much.
Because he smirks at your fucked up, desparate expression and pushes away the long, sweaty strands of raven falling from his head to the side with his clean hands, and brings his soiled fingers to your lips.
“Taste yourself,” his voice has a rasp and you comply, opening up, only to have him push two of his fingers inside your warm cavern, having your panties dragged out. The material of the smooth leather with the viscous arousal wrapped around his slender fingers sits heavy on your tastebuds, and you immediately swirl your tongue to savor it more.
He groans, and immediately withdraws his fingers, now clean. His breathing is erratic as he leans down to steal a quick kiss from you, and you whine when you feel him pull away. He says nothing, but just whispers words of praise in your ears, mindful of your restraints. Your arms feel numb to move by the time he gently unbuckles the belt around your wrist, and he catches you off guard once again when he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue sneaking in between your gasps and tangling with yours.
Your heart beats erratically in your chest when he parts away from you, resting his forehead against yours.
“Gonna finger you now,” his voice is brisk with a pant at the end. His neck is flushed red, glistening with sweat with a slight pant. “Princess deserves the best of the night. Not just some fondling.”
Your face feels warm as you catch onto what he's referring to.
Once again, you find yourself laying down with a throb in your cunt, and him kneeling in between your spread legs to pepper soft kisses on the now dried, slightly damp thighs. When his tongue flickers on the sensitive skin, you jolt and struggle to get up on your elbows, because as much as you're enjoying this, it's a torture that he did not allow you to come at all.
Your cunt pulses and aches for him, but he seems to take his sweet time; softly passing his hands to stroke your flesh and mark them.
When a singular finger strokes the length of your soaked slit, your mouth falls open in a gasp. The leather of his gloves add to the friction as he drags his fingers in an up and down motion, spreading your arousal around. Yoongi is so keen on observing your cunt closely, and there's a desire inside you to tuck away the long, stray strand of his hair back. You're already inching your hand forward when his dark eyes snap up to yours, stopping you in your moments.
You don't even have the time to withdraw your hands when a pair of strong arms curl on the underside of your thighs and pull you forward, licking a stripe right above where his fingers are nested; and in no time you feel the plane of his tongue attacking your poor nub with kitten licks.
“God,” you gasp out loud, trashing your arms around to find any leverage as you fall flat on the table. Your fingers can only claw the edge of the table as his tongue passes over the slick of your skit with each lick, and the air is punched out of lungs the moment you feel two of his digits enter your slit with ease.
You feel his chuckle vibrate against you which goes straight to your clit. “No God will hear you out, doll.”
Fuck. Fuck. You can only arch your back in a broken moan of his name when you feel his fingers move inside of you, not yet thrusting, but curling up. It burns a bit, but the heady bliss is already making your head spin with the added slight pain. He raises his head up to see how fucked you already look, and he knows that all the edging has brought you so close already that he can feel your tight walls tighten impossibly tight around his fingers.
He feels his cock twitch in his pants, begging for attention when he notices your slick trickling down the material of his glove, right in between the joints of his fingers as he stays still.
“M-move, you can move..” the end of your sentence ends up in a whine as his fingers curl forward in full force, immediately finding the spongy area which has lights bursting behind your eyelids. He soons picks up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt in a swift motion which has you gasping for his name.
The soft jagged edges of his glove brushes the walls of your pussy with each pump, and you've never ever felt so good during fingering without any clitoris stimulation. You'd tried that a few times, only to have you grumbling because of your much smaller digits and a need to have something more. And he's right there. Yoongi’s fingers, much thicker and longer than your own ones, feel delirious inside you.
“You’re so tight, princess,” Yoongi groans when he feels you tighten around him with each thrust, pushing you down to your impending orgasm with each pump, with each caress.
Your veins feel like they're on fire, your nipples aching to be touched, and so you do. Pulling them taut between your nimble fingers, your back bows off the table when Yoongi lunches down to close his pretty lips around your neglected clit. Oh fuck. . . ! That feels so fucking amazing, and you're sure you feel his fingers abuse that spot inside of you simultaneously, all while giving his attention to your burning flesh. You're so fucking close that you can taste your orgasm, and there's a slight rush thinking if he'd egde you this time too.
Your eyes shut close the moment his fingers go knuckles inside for a thrust and curls, and at once his lips suction around your clit, hard.
You're seeing Heaven.
You scream out when your orgasm washes over you, intensified with each you were denied off. Your back feels like it flew off the table as your orgasm dawn's down on you like an avalanche, sliding off all around your body in red hot euphoria as Yoongi’s speedy ministrations don't cease. You miss how audibly he moans out loud when a particular thrust inside your cunt has a gush of clear liquid squirting out, his mouth never leaving your now fully erect clit.
His tongue swirls around and sucks, while his fingers stroke the spot inside you. And this time when your hips gyrate up in full force to his face and he hears another scream of his name and a choking resistance to his fingers inside you, he knows that he's fulfilled his goal.
Your orgasm seems to hit you over and over, and over. Your abdominal muscles are dense by the time you feel yourself twitch with the aftershocks of your release, and dear fucking god. You've never come this hard in your life before, and you do know that the man between your legs is the reason.
You hoist yourself up to yourself up to your elbows to look at him who's half hovering over you, but oh god.
He's drenched.
His lower face glistens with moisture and his t-shirt looks like someone just shot him with a water gun, the damp material forming quite a big wet spot right below his collar. He's wide eyed, smirking with a breathy laugh which makes you want to curl up. Fucking hell. No wonder why your orgasm felt so blinding, and you can still feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently stroking your thighs with soft passes.
Oh god, you just squirted.
Yoongi made you squirt. Was that way too much? You don't even know! But for Yoongi, he's smiling as everything to him is riveting, of course.
You're about to hide your face in your palms when Yoongi stops you. His gloves felt damp on your skin, and when you peel your eyes open, he's so dangerously close. So close which makes your head spin and heart race, once again.
“That’s what a real orgasm is, princess. Don't be ashamed.” He helps you get up the table, your legs feeling like fresh pudding and thighs burning. He can only snort in amusement, when you pout at him. What's so funny?
“It was hot as fuck.”
“What?” face warm, you try to cover yourself to which Yoongi lazily raises a brow. He just points a finger to your parted legs. He. . .!
“You. Squirting. It was hot as fuck. Plus the screams were like cherry on the top,” he shrugs, almost as if he didn't fucking wreck you with just his skilled tongue and fingers. Your face burns up at how casually he says that, and before you can think, you blurt out, “You think so?”
“Mm.”
It's your turn to raise a brow. You don't feel scared of him anymore, not even when the post nut clarity is hitting you. You know what you two did, and there's no going back. You feel rather at ease with how he holds one of your palms and slings an arm around your waist to haul you down the table, and you know that this is your chance.
You drop down to your knees.
And now it's him who's wide eyed. His clothed erection stands right in front of your face, almost as if struggling to get out of the hard confines of his jeans. The dent looks promising in size, and you nearly poke out your tongue to give it a lick, but you refrain. You hear him inhale a sharp breath, his hand already coming down to your shoulder to hoist you up, but you swat his hands away.
“What. . .what are you doing?” his voice comes out in a slightly surprised tone, the rasp of it already making you impatient. How could he not pay attention to himself when he's himself so fucking hard? Your hands slowly grab his meaty thighs over his denims which tense under your touch. You lick your lips, purposefully batting your eyelashes when you peer up at him, trying to look as small as you can.
Trying to make him as good as he made you feel, but you doubt your inexperienced ass could do that.
“Can’t you see? Returning your favor.”
He looks torn. The crease in between his eyebrows tell that he's hesitant for this, and he doesn't like that bratty tone you'd just used. But the parted lips imparting short breaths tell otherwise. His reply comes rather quickly, “You don't have to.”
You were sure to be hallucinating, but you could see a small twitch to his length, and you immediately felt your nether gates flooding. Oh god. You must return the favour, then.
“I want to, Yoongi, would you let me, please?”
Completely naked, batting eyelashes, pretty face and tempting view of boobs. Nimble fingers tracing the pathway of his thighs, dangerously close to his aching cock. He did want you, but. . . fuck. . ! And not to deny the image he gets of you kneeling down in front of him, your toes facing outwards and ass purposefully wiggling out, Yoongi knows he's about to bust a nut. And that too, very soon.
Who the fuck is he to deny, then.
“Since you begged for it,” his hands reach to tuck a stray hair out of your beautiful face, feeling his abdominal muscles clench when your fingers brush against his length, he smiles with a shaky exhale.
“Go ahead and take what's yours.”
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gggukniverse · 8 months
Text
basic needs | jjk, myg
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title: basic needs
pairing: jungkook x f!reader, yoongi x f!reader
rating/genre: m, smut, roommates au
summary: missing sex while being stuck in your apartment with your two roommates during quarantine is being the worst nightmare you could've imagined. fortunately, you're not the only one who's touch starved.
warnings: sexual tension, getting caught during sex, voyeurism, edging, dirty talk, protected and unprotected sex (pls be safe y'all), creampie, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), cum eating, finger sucking, hair pulling, praising, begging, reader gets called a whore once, a little yoongi x jungkook 👀.
wordcount: 6k
note: okay... i don't know where this came from like i didn't even know i had all of this in me 🧍🏻‍♀️ i kept gasping at my own writing, i think i got too carried away haha i just hope you like it. also pls keep in mind english is noth my first language !! let's go !
yoongi has been in his room all afternoon, something about working on a new track, and jungkook is currently taking a shower so you have the living room for yourself, some old sitcom playing on the background but you're paying more attention to your phone. that's until you hear footsteps coming into the living room from the corridor.
"hey, loser." jungkook greets you as he ruffles his damp hair from the shower with his hands.
you hate yourself for pausing to look at his toned body, the fucker walked out of the bathroom shirtless. you blame it on your lack of sex.
"what are you watching?" he doesn't seem to notice or care about you looking at his abs, his eyes narrowed towards the tv while he puts on the shirt he was grabbing.
"i'm not really watching anything... you can play whatever you want." you try to act unbothered when he decides to grab both of your legs and raise them a little to sit on the couch to then let them fall on his lap, letting you stay lying down. his warm hands on your bare legs make you get goosebumps and you pray he doesn't notice.
what the hell is happening to you? get it together, it's just jungkook.
"wanna watch a movie?" jungkook looks at you and starts to run his fingertips through your legs in a soothing way. you're gonna go crazy over how nice it feels after being touch starved for so long.
"sure." you shrug, trying to focus on your twitter timeline and not on his hands caressing your legs.
one of his hands moves away from your legs to grab the remote on the armrest of the couch and soon after he's opening the netflix app on the tv. you turn your head to look at him when you feel his free hand starting to caress your skin again while he looks through the movies catalog. he's not looking at you so you take the opportunity to really look at his hand.
the inked hand looks strangely nice against your pale skin. his hands are actually really nice, they're big too, you wonder how they would feel–
"anything in mind?" his voice thanfully brings you back to reality and you panic, quickly looking up at his face. he's still not looking at you.
it's impossible he knows you were staring at him, right?
"what?" you mutter with wide eyes and he finally throws you a quick glance before looking back at the tv.
"any movie you'd like to watch?"
oh.
"uh... i don't really have any in mind, you can play what you want."
"sure there's not any cheesy romantic movie you want to watch?" he's teasing you now. it's not the first time he's complained about you always watching romantic movies.
"shut up, i know you like them too," and he does. you've caught him tearing up that time you watched the notebook together. "just play something already."
"i don't know what to play, though." he keeps scrolling through all of the movies.
"okay. keep scrolling and close your eyes, stop whenever you want to and open your eyes. we'll watch that." you propose and he narrows his eyes as if he's thinking about it but ends up nodding. "close your eyes then."
you see him closing his eyes and hear the sound of the scrolling on the tv so you keep staring at him in case he cheats.
"that one." jungkook stops and opens his eyes just at the same time you turn to the tv.
"i don't know that one." you mutter after reading the title.
"a romantic one, you won." he teases again while he silently reads the synopsis and you sigh, rolling your eyes back.
"c'mon, play it."
you're pleased when the movie turns out to be kinda good. it's just another really cliché romantic story but you love movies like that. jungkook is enjoying it too even though he tries to act it out. you smile each time he makes a comment about the movie, he can never shut up when watching something.
"stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." he says and you let out a chuckle.
"it's a movie, kook." tou reply and try not to think about his hands still caressing your legs. it's been like that during all the movie, maybe he hasn't even noticed he's still doing it.
it's nothing new that jungkook is a really touchy person, he's always been touchy with you and even with yoongi, he likes to cuddle, likes to touch your hair. but this time it feels so different because of the lack of touch you've been having. it is so embarrassing to admit how nice his hands feel on you.
never in two years living with him would you have imagined jungkook could be quiet during a movie until a sex scene comes up. he suddenly goes quiet. his hand stops moving.
it's awkward. it's always awkward to watch a sex scene with someone else. if you were watching the movie with your best friend it would be totally different, but this is jungkook, your roommate, your roommate you don't have any type of relationship outside this apartment.
you feel tense, your whole body feels tense, and you pray that he doesn't notice. but you flinch when his hand squeezes your thigh a little too hard.
"oh shit, sorry." he apologizes quickly with a chuckle that seems way too forced.
good, you're both tense and awkward.
"don't worry." you reply just as quickly and he nods before turning back to the tv. he looks so focused on the movie, like he's holding his breath. you only realize you've been staring when he looks back at you.
"you okay?" jungkook is looking at you with a soft smile but also with something in his eyes you've never really seen on him.
"y-yeah," you wanna punch yourself in the face for stuttering but manage to move your legs off his lap to stand up from the couch. "i need something to drink, you keep watching the movie." your bare feet are already guiding you to the kitchen when you hear him humming.
maybe you end up spending too much time in the kitchen. you chug down a glass of water as soon as you get there but when you're finished you leave the glass on the sink and then you lean back on the isle, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down.
you hate how you can still feel jungkook's touch on your legs, how he looked so immersed in the movie, how you can't stop thinking about him squeezing a little too hard when the girl in the movie let out a loud moan, how his gaze was so dark when he looked at you, how you needed to feel his hands on you again.
god, you really need to have sex.
the door creaking open makes you snap out of your thoughts and look up. you quickly straighten up and clear your throat. jungkook is right there by the door looking at you.
"hey," he says nonchalantly and walks to the fridge. "you okay?" his voice is quiet as he grabs the bottle of orange juice.
"yeah! perfectly fine." you nod while he takes a sip of the juice.
he hums and closes the bottle. "you were taking too long, you're gonna miss the rest of the movie."
"yeah, i-"
"i'm not dumb, y/n. you can say you were uncomfortable because of the movie." he chuckles and you feel so stupid.
"no! i wasn't uncomfortable.. it's just- i-" you struggle to find the words and just feel even more stupid
"what is it?" he arches an eyebrow and walks to stand next to you, leaning back against the kitchen isle too.
"i just... fuck, i need to have sex." you snap and run your hands through your hair in frustration. "i'm gonna go crazy if i have to stay inside this house one more fucking day. i haven't had sex in three months."
"we've been quarantined for a month." jungkook points out looking at you with narrowed eyes like he's about to say something else.
"i know, shut up." you stop him before he dares to tease you for it.
"i get it." he says after a few seconds in silence and now you're the one frowning and looking at him.
"huh?"
"i need to have sex too."
oh.
"i get your frustration, sometimes i feel like i'm gonna go crazy too." he looks forward, avoiding your stare.
"oh yeah, i'm sure you're not used to not having a girl bouncing on your dick every single night." the comment was meant to tease him but you just end up feeling your heart start beating too fast at the thought of bouncing on a dick too.
you place your hands on the isle right behind your back and jump a little to sit on top of it, hissing a little because of the cold surface on your exposed thighs.
"hey, it wasn't like that before quarantine!" jungkook whines and pouts like a child and it causes a chuckle to escape your lips. "i wish, though."
"you're gross."
"as if you didn't want to bounce on a dick every single night." he looks at you with an arched eyebrow and a little smirk.
a weird feeling between your legs makes you close them instantly and you swear you can see jungkook looking down really quick before turning and walking back to the fridge to leave the juice bottle back in. when he turns around again you have to fight back a gasp at the sight of the tent he has on his sweatpants. jungkook is hard.
it's embarrasing how bad you need some dick now, it really is, but you look down and close your legs even tighter.
"i should... go to sleep, it's kinda late." you mutter and as soon as you're gonna hop off the counter there's a hand right next to your thigh on the counter.
"wait." jungkook says and you have to look up, he's standing right in front of you.
"yeah?" your voice is just as quiet as before.
"did you get worked up watching the movie?" he asks with a little knowing smile and you want to die from embarrassment.
"no!" you lie, pushing him back a little. "i didn't." you shake your head but he only chuckles, your head is lowering down again.
"it's okay, y/n." his hand brushes against your exposed thigh from where it's placed on the counter and you shiver.
"i didn't." you insist even though you know you're being so fucking obvious.
"open your legs."
a whine escapes your lips at the simple words and you're so embarrassed you wanna die, your face feels so hot.
"jungkook..." you don't want to look up at him but he just moves even closer.
"i know," he coos like he's sorry for you. and it is hot. "it's been so long since someone has talked to you like this, right?"
you just hum in response and shiver again when he pushes one of your strands of hair behind your ear.
"you need someone to take care of you, right?" he purrs, his lips softly brushing against your ear.
"fuck." you sigh and finally look up. "jungkook."
"you need it just as much as me." he says looking right into your eyes. "if you let me..."
"please."
you can't even think straight anymore.
"please, what?"
you don't answer, just spread your legs. he closes his eyes and exhales through his nose.
"y/n."
"please, touch me." you don't think you've ever heard your voice come out so whiny but jungkook seems to like it because he's immediately taking the last step forward he can take and gets between your thighs, placing his hands on your thighs.
"say that again." he says, looking down at your lips.
"touch me." you don't even think about it, because that would probably fuck everything up. it's better this way.
jungkook looks down between your bodies and one of his hands goes up your thigh until it reaches the fabric of your shorts, then it goes up to the elastic waistband. you keep your eyes on his face while he slips his hand under your shorts and finds the wet patch in your panties with his fingers. the groan that leaves his lips when he gets to feel how wet you are is louder than the moan you let out at the same time.
"holy fuck, you're so wet." his fingers start moving slowly against your clothed folds.
"fuck, kook." you sigh and move your hips even closer to him, trying to chase the feeling of his fingers on you.
"mhh... i know," jungkook coos again and you know you're gonna go crazy if he keeps taking to you like that. "feels good, right?" he hums and you're about to respond when he pushes your panties to the side and really touches you.
"fuck." you throw your head back as he runs his fingers through your wet folds.
"god, you're dripping. making a mess down here." jungkook groans and looks up at you. you must be a blushing mess already, your cheeks are burning and you literally feel lightheaded even if you haven't even done anything yet. "please, let me kiss you." he almost begs and you suddenly feel like you're gonna melt right on that counter.
before he can ask again you're throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss. you don't know if you're really fucking turned on or if he's just a really good kisser but you melt into the kiss. jungkook swallows the moans that escape your lips when he slips a finger inside so easily and starts fucking you with it.
"kook..." you moan against his lips. it feels so good to be touched again that your legs are already shaking.
"pretty." jungkook says and starts moving down, leaving a couple kisses on your jaw before kissing and sucking on your neck.
"jungkook- fuck." you sigh, tugging at his hair desperately. "seriously, it's been... it's been so long."
"i know." jungkook hums against your neck and sucks a mark on it as he adds another finger inside you.
"feels so good." you moan and a little squeak slips out of your mouth when he curls his fingers inside of you and finds that sweet spot. "it's so... fuck, it's so soon but i'm gonna cum, kook." you don't even have the mind to be embarrassed about it. it feels too good.
but jungkook suddenly stops kissing your neck and pulls back completely, his hand moving away from inside your pants. the complain about to slip out of your mouth dies in your throat when you see him sucking on his fingers and groaning.
"fuck, so sweet."
you're gonna go crazy.
"your feet on the ground, and turn around." he orders and you're so desperate you obey right away, jumping from the counter and turning around to give him your back. "you need to tell me if you really want this because it's gonna be easier to just stop now." one of his hands finds your waist and he pulls you against his body, you moan at the feeling of his clothed hard dick against your ass.
"yes, fuck, yes please." you breathe out and feel his hands on the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down immediately along with your panties. "wait, wait."
"mh?"
"yoongi, he's home." you mentally applaud your brain for being rational enough to remember you're not alone in the house.
"he doesn't leave his room for hours, don't worry about." he shrugs and you can see him pulling his sweatpants down.
"but- ah!" you whine when he pushes one of your feet further to the side so your legs spread a little more. "jungkook..." you want to insist on the fact that you're not alone but his fingers find your pussy again.
"you're fucking dripping." he sighs and easily slips two fingers inside, making you put your hand on your mouth not to be loud. "fuck, so tight."
you can't help but bend down on the counter, pushing your ass towards him to chase his fingers. jungkook straight up moans at the sight.
"please, need you inside." you whimper when he adds a third finger and starts fucking you with them at a pace that drives you crazy.
"what was that?" he asks and moves even faster. the fucker is teasing you.
"kook, need you to fuck me."
he doesn't seem to think about it twice before he reaches for one of the kitchen drawers where a box of condoms is hidden and takes one out. you can notice he's trying to hold himself back and take his time with you but he's just as eager as you, so he can't slow down now.
"you sure about this, right?" he asks. you're looking at him over your shoulder as he rolls the condom down his cock.
"i'm fucking dripping, kook. of course i'm sure." you're starting to get anxious, you wiggle your ass just to let him know you're ready for him.
a little sigh leaves your mouth when jungkook rubs his tip against your folds, just when you think he's about to slip inside he just rubs it again.
"fucking tease." you mutter with your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the counter. "just fuck m- oh!" you can't help the moan that leaves your mouth when he slips inside all the way.
"shit, so tight." jungkook hisses behind you and you whine, your walls clenching so hard around him. his hands grip on your hips so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a mark.
"it's been.. too long- fuck." you remind him as he pulls back a little just to thrust inside again.
"yeah, me too, i'm not gonna last." He warns and you almost giggle because at least you're both equally desperate.
"i don't care, just make me cum." you beg through a moan when he thrusts inside again.
"come here." one of his arms wraps around your waist and straightens you up so your back is arched against his chest, keeping you in place. you're both still wearing your shirts and your pants and underwear are just pooling by your ankles, so horny you didn't even waste time to get undressed.
"holy fuck!" you gasp when his thrusts hit a different way in the new angle and soon after, jungkook's hand is over your mouth.
"want every fucking neighbor to hear you?" he whispers against your ear and you feel your walls clenching around him again. "fuck, y/n, keep doing that and i'll cum in two seconds." his hand drops from your mouth to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it but not adding any pressure, just keeping you in place.
"so big." you whimper helplessly, your hands still flat on the counter because you feel like your legs could betray you right now. "you feel so fucking good."
you feel his hand closing a little around your neck and your eyes roll back at the feeling, he starts fucking you even faster. there are drops of sweat rolling down your forehead already but you don't care, not when you're finally having a cock inside of you. and god, he's fucking you good, so good that you don't feel embarrassed at how close you feel already.
"feels good?" jungkook hums and you can only whine in response. "fuck, your pussy is swallowing my cock, y/n, doesn't want me to leave." he groans and his thrusts are so hard that you're starting to see white dots. "you're so good, y/n."
"f-fuck... please, need... need to cum." you must sound pathetic right now but you can't bring yourself to care. "touch me, kook, make me cum."
his free hand is moving quickly, finding your clit again and rubbing fast circles that almost make you start crying.
"gonna cum, baby?" you feel his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. the pet name makes you clench even harder around him. "wanna cum on my cock?" he sounds so gone too, you know he's close too. if you knew he was gonna fuck you this good you would've actually taken your time with him, but you let it pass for now because you're both needy and just need to get off.
"yeah." you unconsciously let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard from yourself and jungkook start giving sloppy thrusts, you're both so close. "kook, i'm gonna cum." you manage to let out and right after your mouth can't even make sounds anymore.
"fuck, y/n."
you're so close. you're gonne cum. so fucking close.
but the door creaks open and you both freeze, not being able to contain your moans at the feeling of jungkook bottoming out once again.
"yoongi!" you scream at the boy standing by the door at the same time as jungkook screams 'hyung!'. you try your best to cover yourself by pulling your shirt down. jungkook's hand drops from your neck to rest on your waist.
"oh, don't stop." yoongi shrugs as if he's just caught you chopping vegetables.
"huh?" jungkook mutters behind you and you can feel it about to move away but you reach for his thigh with your hand to keep him there.
"kook, please." you don't know what got into you. you're so desperate to cum you don't even mind yoongi being there in front of you.
"see? she wants you to keep going." yoongi's voice is so calm as he slowly walks towards you, leaning back against the counter, just right next to where you both are.
you look down as your cheeks start burning and you clench around jungkook. why the hell are you getting turned on by being watched by your roommate while getting fucked by your other roommate?
"fuck, y/n." you know jungkook is hissing because you got impossibly tight around him and you can hear Yoongi's little chuckle. "you're just gonna stand there?" the younger asks his friend.
"i don't think she minds." yoongi replies and you can almost see the smug smile on his face even if you're staring at the counter.
"y/n?" jungkook mutters behind you but you don't answer. you're so close, so embarrassed and so turned on that you're scared your voice will come out in a pathetic whine.
"y/n," yoongi's deeper voice calls for you too but you don't reply either. "look at me, y/n," he speaks again and you bite your lip not to let out another moan because you're sure you're currently creaming jungkook's cock. "pull her hair so she looks at me, jungkook."
your breath hitches then the youngest does just as yoongi says and a moan finally escapes your throat as he tugs at your hair and brings your head up, turning it a little to the side so you can face the boy beside you. he's handling you as if you were a doll. and the second you lock eyes with yoongi you feel numb. his eyes are so dark, you've never really seen him looking at you like that. a little smirk grows on his face as he looks all over your face. you probably look a mess.
"do you want me to stay?" he asks with an unusual soft voice that makes your legs shake.
"hyung." jungkook says with a warning tone, his cock throbbing inside you. he needs to cum too.
"shut up," yoongi gives jungkook a quick look and turns to you again. "y/n?" the words don't even leave your mouth, you can't speak. "what? jungkookie was fucking you so good you can't even talk?" he speaks with a condescending tone, like he's sorry for you. you close your eyes as you clench around jungkook again.
"fuck, y/n." jungkook's free hand squeezes the flesh on your hip.
"keep fucking her, kook," yoongi finally says. "let's see if you can make her talk again."
jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he lets go of your hair and starts moving again without even questioning him. your head stays in place for yoongi to see you but your eyes are still closed. you must be going crazy because you don't think you've ever felt this good during sex and it is just a quick fuck in the kitchen with your roommate while your other roommate looks at you.
after a specific thrust that hits just where you need it you arch your back until your head falls on jungkook's shoulder, you throw one of your arms behind you so you can reach jungkook's hair and keep him close. your fingers tangle with the soft locks while he fucks you at a brutal pace.
"right there, kook..." you moan.
"like that?" he whines, fucking whines, against your ear as he keeps thrusting against that sweet spot inside you and you nod frantically. one of his hands stays on the counter right next to yours and the other sneaks under your shirt and finally cups over one of your boobs, a groan hits your ear.
"s-sensitive.." you warn him but he squeezes your boob anyway. you cry out. you're so close again, so fucking close.
"stop." yoongi says and jungkook halts his movements immediately as if he was under his spell.
"fuck, yoongi." you choke on a moan. when you open your eyes you can see yoongi looking down at where your bodies meet, then he looks at jungkook.
"jungkook," yoongi says and jungkook hums in response. "you got tested when i did, you're clean." he tells him and then he looks at you. "are you clean? and on the pill?"
"yeah," you nod. "yes to both." you suddenly feel shy again. they both sigh at your answer and you gulp, watching yoongi turning to jungkook with an arched eyebrow.
"then why are you wearing a condom?" yoongi asks. and he's not wrong. you usually didn't risk it, you always use to have protected sex, but now that you see it like this you wonder why you didn't ask jungkook if he was clean from the start.
"hyung... i don't know if she-" jungkook mutters like he's not sure but you can clearly feel his cock twitching inside you.
"do you want him to wear the condom?" yoongi asks you, his voice still calm and his look unbothered.
"y/n, you don't have t-"
"take it off." you cut Jungkook off and yoongi smiles. you feel so nice after seeing his reaction that you wonder if you're doing this just to make him feel proud. it feels good.
"pull out, kookie," yoongi says and walks towards him, you turn your head to look back at them. jungkook obeys quickly, your walls squeezing him like you want to keep him inside. "good," yours and jungkook's breaths hitch when yoongi himself takes the condom off of his cock and goes to throw it on the trash. "you leaked a lot, damn." he say through a breathy chuckle when he comes back and decides to stand right behind jungkook.
"hyung."
"she must feel good, right?" yoongi is suddenly resting his chin on his shoulder and looking down. your eyes follow yoongi's and then roll back when you see yoongi's hand wrapping around jungkook's cock and slowly stroking him to spread the precum on his tip all over his length.
"fuck, hyung." the boy moans and your pussy throbs.
god, this is so fucking hot you could cum if they kept that going for a little longer. but yoongi drops his sticky hand and looks at you tilting his head and lightly raising his eyebrows.
"open your mouth." he says and you don't question him, just open your mouth and welcome two of his fingers inside.
you moan around them as you suck and swallow jungkook's taste off them while yoongi stares at your lips, his tongue licking the corner of his lips.
"clean my hand." his fingers drop from your mouth and you stick your tongue out, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist while you run your tongue all over his palm and fingers, cleaning jungkook off of him.
they're both looking at you like they want to eat you up and you feel so powerful yet you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs by this point. yoongi drops his hand when you've cleaned it completely and then looks at jungkook.
"c'mon, kookie, fuck her now." he says really close to jungkook's ear and the younger obeys instantly, slipping inside you and groaning at the feeling. "good boy." yoongi chuckles as jungkook bottoms out.
"so good." you moan, already feeling the clear difference in having him inside with nothing in between. a whimper is forced out of your mouth when jungkook starts thrusting into you again.
"that feels good, right?" yoongi asks and moves to stand beside you again, to watch it all happen.
"mhm..." you moan. "please... jungkook- please."
"so pretty when you beg." yoongi puts his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. "such a pretty whore."
"oh my god!" your eyes roll back. you feel yourself just a second away from coming. "gonna cum... fuck..."
"yeah, i can fucking feel you." jungkook breathes out. "fuck." his thrusts become sloppy real fast. he's close too.
"jungkook..." you completely bend over the counter again because your arms can't support your weight anymore, your cheek gets smushed against the cold surface. "i'm- shit... i'm coming." you whimper.
"then cum." yoongi's voice is all you need to get there. a shocking wave of pleasure runs through your whole body while you clench hard around him.
"shit, so tight." jungkook mutters behind you and one of your weak arms reaches behind to grab at his thigh. "so close, y/n."
"please." your whole body is shaking with oversensitivity.
"want me to pull out?" jungkook asks.
"no... please," you beg. "come inside, baby." you cry out.
"c'mon jungkook, cum." yoongi says and that seems like enough for jungkook too, because you feel his throbbing cock releasing inside of you.
"fuck," jungkook mumbles. "y/n, come here." his hands are on your waist again.
"i can't." you let out a weak chuckle but jungkook is suddenly wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up.
"need to kiss you." he says and you immediately turn your head to find his lips. you kiss him slow, nothing like the kisses you shared before, and it feels good to kiss jungkook like that.
he's the one that breaks the kiss and when you try to chase his lips again he just chuckles and gives your hip a soft slap.
"kiss yoongi too." he whispers just at the same time as you feel a hand wrapping around your neck.
yoongi's lips are on yours as soon as you turn around. you hum through the kiss and bring one of your hands up to his cheek, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss. he swallows your moan when jungkook's cock finally slips out of you and you feel his cum spilling out. yoongi breaks the kiss when jungkook mumbles something you can't really hear.
"shit..." you close your legs when you feel jungkook's cum spilling out and dripping down your thigh. "it's so messy."
"not for long," yoongi suddenly grabs you and brings you to the fridge, making you lean back against it as he drops to his knees in front of you. you stop breathing for a second. "i'm gonna clean you up."
"hyung," jungkook calls him as he puts on his sweatpants again. "you're gonna-"
"do you think this is my first time tasting cum?" yoongi throws him a quick glance and you swear you see jungkook blushing for a moment.
yoongi turns to you again and grabs one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder and diving in with no warning.
"yoongi, fuck!" you throw your head back as one of your hands goes to his hair. he hums against your pussy and laps at your entrance, from where jungkook's cum keeps spilling out.
"that's so fucking hot." jungkook sighs but you can't open your eyes to look at him, you keep them closed.
"yoongi, you're gonna- gonna make me cum again." you mumble, your only leg supporting you starting to shake but yoongi keeps you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh over his shoulder. and the warning that you're gonna cum only makes yoongi push you further to the edge, sucking on your clit and basically burying his face on your pussy like he's starving for you. "yoongi, oh my- fuck, oh my god!"
you don't know what to do with your hands anymore, one of them stays on his hair while the other ends on your mouth to try and stop the pathetic noises from coming out. though one hand is suddenly grabbing that arm and pulling it down.
it's yoongi. he detaches his mouth from you to say, "i wanna hear you." and suddenly slips two fingers inside you.
"sensitive..." you mumble, your legs shaking again and threatening to close even if yoongi's head is between them.
"gotta clean you well," yoongi says. "jungkookie had a big load for you, huh?" he chuckles again.
you've never heard something so hot in your entire life. jungkook must think the same because he groans somewhere in the kitchen, you don't see him because you're too busy holding yoongi's eye contact.
"you like me cleaning jungkookie off your pussy?" yoongi asks you and gives your clit another little lick as he fucks the cum out of you with his fingers. "dirty girl."
"please, yoongi."
"love hearing you say that." he smirks as he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue.
"hyung, jesus fucking christ." jungkook sighs while yoongi goes back to eating you out like he's wanted it for months.
"i'm gonna cum, yoongi- ah!" you throw your head back against the fridge again when yoongi sucks on your clit and starts fucking you with his fingers again. "oh, right there!" his fingers keep brushing against that sweet spot and you're sure you're gonna cum soon.
it doesn't take long for you to cum on his mouth and fingers, yoongi gives your pussy one last kiss before placing another one on your thigh still on his shoulder and finally puts it down.
"you're okay?" yoongi asks you as he stands up and cups your face with his hands to check on you.
"yeah," you nod. "just a little dizzy."
"i'm sure you're tired." he brushes his thumbs on your cheeks affectionately and your eyes close on their own. "i'll go prepare a bath for you, okay?" he says and kisses your forehead.
and holy fuck, you never thought that thing people said about feeling butterflies in your stomach was real but now you can feel them because as soon as yoongi pulls away, you feel another kiss on your cheek from jungkook.
"you were amazing." he tells you and you have half a mind to smile.
"wait," you turn to the door where yoongi is already making his way to the bathroom. "yoongi!" you call out for him and he quickly turns around.
"yeah?" he asks and your eyes go down to his crotch. he's hard. of course he is.
"do you... want help with that?" you ask shyly but he just waves a hand dismissively.
"don't worry about it, you're completely spent, you should rest now." yoongi replies sincerely but then looks to jungkook. "unless you're ready for another round." he cocks an eyebrow.
you look at jungkook and a giggle slips out of your mouth when you see him shocked, his cheeks tomato red. yoongi chuckles too.
"i'm just teasing you," the older says. "i'll go prepare a bath." and he leaves the kitchen.
then you're alone with jungkook again. you grab your clothes from the floor even if you're not really gonna put them on now.
"what was all of that about?" you dare to ask and you know jungkook understands what you mean but you still push further. "yoongi and you...?"
"it was nothing." he quickly replies. you're not dumb, he's getting defensive.
"okay..." you mutter. "calm down, i wasn't judging."
"i know," jungkook says and oh he looks troubled. "it was just nothing."
"okay," you nod and give him a reassuring smile because he looks more tense now than before. "just... if you've got some thoughts you need to let out... i'm here, or whatever..." you try not to make things real serious but you just don't want to see jungkook like this.
"i'm okay." he replies.
"mh, good." you end up putting just your shorts on again because it might be a little weird to have this conversation while being half naked.
"by the way, that was short but it was amazing." jungkook says out of nowhere and you giggle, slapping his arm.
"yeah, you were not bad either." you say and squeeze his bicep twice before walking out of the kitchen.
and when you're left alone in the corridor everything you just did hits you like a truck.
what the hell have you done?
A/N: hope you enjoyed it !! i'm not 100% satisfied with this one, i know i could've done a lot better but yeah :) thank u for reading ! have a nice day <3
3K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin
𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Masterlist]
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Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?
Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Main Parts:
Part 1: Strawberries
Part 2: Honey
Drabble: MC cuddling with Kook
Ask: Yoongi spoiling MC
Drabble: MC getting scared by a bug
Drabble: Yoongi brushing MC's tail
Drabble: Just Jungkook doing dog things
Drabble: MC making kook feel better
Part 3: Milk
Drabble: Jimin realizing MC has felt abandoned
Drabble: Yoongi scolding MC
Drabble: Aftermath of Yoongi scolding MC
Drabble: MC not taken seriously except by kook
Part 4: Cream [1/2] [2/2]
Part 5: Cookies
...
2K notes · View notes
ugh-yoongi · 4 months
Note
hii! thanks for answering my ask about your favorite namjoon fics 🥰 could you recommend your favorite yoongi fics if you haven't done it yet? thank you soo much! 💗
you got it 🫡
most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!
i know there are a bunch i’ve forgotten, so please reblog and share your own work and your faves!
also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won’t be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.
yoongi x reader
love language by @gukslut
please be naked and first and last and always by @floralseokjin
the dinner party by @anotherbtswriter
straight shooter by @snackhobi
winter: you're the one that bloomed me by @hot-soop
moonlit throne by @hobidreams
miss dial by @versigny
a love that endures by @cinnaminsvga
want a taste? by @suga-kookiemonster
cyberslut by @kimnjss
tip of the iceberg by @fortunexkookie
greedy by @xjoonchildx
boseong breakfast by @honeymoonjin
vogue by @gukyi
tell me what you want by @wwilloww
wine & budapest by @junghelioseok
the second time & stop thinking about me by @yoongiphoria
drip by @here2bbtstrash
cybersex by @gimmethatagustd
vows (and all the associated drabbles) by @hamsterclaw
darksided by @eoieopda
the pink pill by @dollfaceksj
volume
as always, mxm recs under the cut!
member x member
namgi: see namjoon recs here
sope: see hoseok recs here
yoonjin: see seokjin recs here
yoonkook: see jk recs here + fang fucker by @sailoryooons
atoms and empty space (yoonmin)
love maze (yoonmin)
there's a piece of you in how i dress (yoonmin)
cute, baby (yoonmin)
inevitabilities (yoonmin)
our beginnings never know our ends (yoonmin)
since feeling is first (yoonmin)
it's bad enough we get along so well (yoonmin)
he's what you want (i'm what you need) [yoonmin]
maybe i hate you can be our always (yoonmin)
smooth strip (yoonmin)
map of the sounds (taegi)
the romance of old clothes (taegi)
inside and out (taegi)
siren of the interstate (taegi)
espresso marmalade (taegi)
after all, all this time (taegi)
what happens in uni series (taegi)
return to baseline (taegi)
vanilla sweetheart (taegi)
nothing lasts forever (taegi)
wassily kandinsky improvisation 31 sea battle (taegi)
shots fired (taegi)
yachtgi series (taegi)
790 notes · View notes
yoongifis · 1 year
Text
💌 “fxck a fxckboy!" | myg
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where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.
; pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi
; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, breastplay, mention of sex toys, mention of masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi (my fave hehe)
; genre: smut (18+), pwp (?)
; wc: 11k+ (the most i’ve ever written 🤯 sorry hehe)
a/n: fuck fuckboys or fuck a fuckboy? 🫣 honestly really wanted to write something for that pic of yoongi (jeeeesus😮‍💨) and thought “yeah i think he should be a fuckboy or something” lol…also peep the namaikizakari pic heheh—one of my favorite mangas!! 🫶
-
He led you to his bedroom in his currently empty but shared apartment he lived in, your soft hand in his. 
The two of you had just gone back from the bar, the two of you slightly tipsy—more him than you. You didn’t drink much compared to him. You knew your limits and you made sure that you stayed away from being severely, passed out drunk. To keep things short, you both had shitty days and you both just wanted to let it all out with a little one night stand—no biggy, right? But who would've thought that you would be doing a quick fuck with the one an only Min Yoongi, a fairly popular boy at your university who’s only interested in just fucking without any feelings. You could probably answer your statement, actually: the man is just down to fuck anyone he sees. You’ve heard it everywhere—all the little chitter chatter about him that goes around the school—he’s a man who doesn’t want to settle with one person. He wants a quick fuck, but never twice with the same person, and afterwards he won’t do anything else but sleep and ignore you as you leave.
He guides you over to his bed, making you sit on the edge while he goes ahead and locks the door from behind. 
It’s not everyday where you get this sort of chance, so before you gave into coming to his place to hook up with him, you decided that you wanted to toy with him a bit—have him remember who you are. 
He walks slowly over to you, scanning your body up and down as he licks his dry lips. 
“Mm, so what’s your plan?” You hum, looking up at the tall man who stood in front of you. He’s bringing up a hand to twirl the loose strand of your long hair around his finger. 
He smirks, removing his finger from your hair and taking his thumb and index finger to hold your chin.
“I figured it was kind of obvious with what’s going on, no?”
You snort at his remark, gently grabbing his arm by the wrist to pull his hand away from yours.
“I’m well aware of the game you play, Min, and obviously I’m completely up for it. But how about we change it up a little—let me take control this time?” You bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet and innocent look on your face. You release your grip around him, brushing your fingers up and down his forearm before placing your hands back in your lap.
Yoongi scoffs with a smile on his face, amused with your offer. 
“Sure, princess. But if it gets bad, I’m gonna take over.” 
You place a hand on his stomach, gently pushing down on him to get him to move back, which he does. You stand up in front of him, spin the two of you around and push him over again to make him sit on the edge of the bed.
“Alright,” you hum, now looking down at him.
His hands instinctively reach out to you to caress your curves, but you’re quick to give him light slaps to his hands to prevent him from doing so.
“We’ll go over some rules—one of them being no touching unless I say so. Two, I don’t like to kiss on the lips if I’m just doing a one night stand—.”
“—Pfft,” he cuts you off, “that’s stupid. But you’re willing to have sex?”
“I think kisses are more intimate and they deserve to be used in a place where feelings are there.”
He thinks to himself for a second, quietly considering your comment.
“I guess you can think that way, princess.”
You roll your eyes at him, removing your black leather blazer to reveal the little black cropped tank top and your short black miniskirt a little better. 
God, he was drooling over you. Every curve of you looked absolutely delicious—he had to touch you but, of course, he wasn’t allowed to. He was even able to see your hardened and pierced tits through your shirt, which made him chuckle a bit. He was too excited to see them.
“No bra? Is that all for me?” He grins, licking his lips again.
You lean over, your face coming closer to his as you ignore his words. He was ready for you to just plant one on him, so he instinctively closed his eyes. You place your head on the side of his, lightly giggling at him. 
“Cute,” you mumbled near his ear, making him immediately open his eyes, all embarrassed. Your hand slides into the front pocket of his button up shirt, taking out a large handkerchief. You pull away, looking back at him with a cheeky smile. “I was surprised to see that you had one of these in your pocket. It’ll be handy for today.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrow at you, unable to put one and one together.
“Last rule is that you’ll be blind folded until I say so. If any rules are broken, I’ll stop and leave.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Should I just get going now?”
His dark eyes scan you up and down again, undressing you in his mind. You stood there in your all black outfit, playing with the long handkerchief by loosely wrapping it around your hands. You looked heavenly, it was screwing up his thoughts.
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath.
Something in him was also telling him to give this a try—see if he’s into it or not. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?
“I’ll play along with your little game, princess.”
“Great,” you hum with a smile on your face.
It didn’t end the way the two of you (possibly him more) wanted it to be.
Spoiler alert—you ended up leaving him while you were in the middle of teasing him, your hand wrapped around his long and hard cock, making him desperate for more of your touch.
Of course he was absolutely furious with you leaving him without having the chance to get to his release or even fuck you. You didn’t care, though. It wasn’t your problem anyways. He broke the rules and you left just like that—exactly what you told him before you started.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.
Now, it’s not like you hate him or anything. It’s more like you wanted to teach him a little lesson. This whole thing was never planned ahead, of course—you just got lucky enough to come in contact with him on one of those rare days where you actually decided to go out for a drink.
You internally laugh to yourself, barely focusing on what you’re doing behind your laptop.
“Y/n, how about we take this get together to my apartment? I can feel myself trying to fall asleep. I’ve been awake since 5 in the morning.”
You look over to the boy, watching him rub his eyes with the back of his hands and then stretching afterwards.
You chuckle at him, agreeing with his idea before the two of you start packing up and heading out of your school library.
The universe is actually pretty crazy. Or perhaps you’re just really lucky because who would’ve thought you’d be here again in the same apartment that you were in a while ago. However this time you’re here with Yoongi’s roommate, Hoseok—your classmate that you’ll be working on a project with. 
You’re carefully scanning the place again as you enter, not being able to recognize a thing in the living room since you barely had a chance to look around the last time. 
“Don’t worry, no one’s here right now. I think my roommate is out right now.”
You nod your head, somewhat hoping that you get to leave before Yoongi makes it back home. 
“Make yourself at home, y/n! Don’t be shy! Grab some water if you want. I’m just going to use the restroom real quick!” He doesn’t let you answer as he scurries over down the hallway. Dropping your stuff down on the couch, you make your way towards the kitchen. 
You were opening each cabinet one by one, in search of some cups. Honestly, you couldn’t care less if they were glass, plastic, or paper at this point since you still weren’t able to find any. Hoseok wasn’t that descriptive—matter of fact he didn’t really tell you—where things were, so it just looks like you're ransacking his kitchen.
Squatting down, you look in the cabinets of their kitchen island. Rummaging through things until you find the stupid cups.
“Hoseok, what’re you makin’?” 
You froze in your stance, the two glass cups in your hands. The voice you heard was definitely not your classmate’s. It was lower, a bit gravelly as if they just woke up. This was most definitely the one and only Min Yoongi. Of course, the universe made you lucky enough to meet him again.
You muster up the courage, mentally slapping yourself to gain some more confidence to face him again. You slowly stood up, placing the glass cups on the countertop.
He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, rubbing his eyes again to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things.
A lopsided smile grows on his face, as he moves closer to rest his arms on the counter.
“Back for a redo? Did you miss me or something?”
You snort, amused with the words that came out of his mouth. He definitely didn’t learn anything with your so-called “experiment”. Since you were already in this position, you made a quick decision to keep toying with him until he’s at his limit.
“Of course not. I’m here for your roommate.”
His sleepy eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, his neck slightly extended forward. 
“My roommate? Hoseok? You’re about to go fuck that guy right now?”
Before you could answer, you were immediately cut off. The two of your heads both looking over to see the owner of that voice.
“Ah! Hyung! You’re home?!” He’s looking at Yoongi, to you, and back to the boy as he mentally took in the situation. “I see you’re already introducing yourself to y/n! She’s in my biology class. I’ve got a project to do with her.”
You couldn’t tell if the air around you guys was awkward, uncomfortable, or very tense. Honestly, it didn’t bother you at all that you were seeing Yoongi again for a second time—more like it just caught you off guard that you were actually lucky to see him for a second time.
Yoongi takes a glance over at you again and then back at Hoseok, silently observing the two of you.
“Yeah,” he pauses, “I skipped class ‘cuz I wanted to sleep.”
The other boy nods to acknowledge his words and the room goes quiet again. You clear your throat to break up the silence and make way to the water dispenser to fill up your cup.
“Are you thirsty Hoseok? I’ll bring some water to the table if you want me to.”
“Ah, no I’m fine,” his voice sounded like it was getting further as he spun around to go sit back down in front of the coffee table.
“I’ll take a cup.” You hear the other boy’s low voice even closer to you than before, so you glance over your shoulder to see him now standing behind you, body leaned against the island of the kitchen.
Turning around with one full glass in your hand and the other on the counter, you shoot him a quick smile and ignore his request before you walk past him to head over to Hoseok. He scoffs, his eyes following your body and then his whole body turns to watch you sit your pretty ass right next to Hoseok—all giggly and shit.
-
Standing behind the kitchen island became his favorite place to be at whenever you came over. He pretends to be on his phone or laptop, clean a little bit, or even cook up a little snack and eat it there. If it’s not already obvious, Yoongi was solely there to see you. (And monitor whatever was going on between you and Hoseok.)
There has been zero progression between the two of you within the past few days and he was growing impatient. The way Hoseok has been having you all to himself was pissing him off. Were you really going to fuck his friend? But why not him? Why’d you have to play games with him and leave him high and dry with no care in the world?
It was also pissing him off that you weren’t all over him like how other girls are with him. I mean—you made it pretty clear to him that you knew what kind of guy he is and how you didn’t really want much to do with him. I guess seeing the attention being only on Hoseok made him a bit…jealous…
..Yeah
…he was jealous…
That’s something he rarely feels.
Hoseok takes another bathroom break which gives Yoongi the chance to steal you away and get the ball going between the two of you. He quickly grabs his math textbook, a piece of paper, and a pencil from his desk in his room and sits right next to you on the couch with the sides of your thighs and arms both touching each other. Your head immediately turns to him, watching his movements with a raised eyebrow. He puts his textbook on top of Hoseok’s, flipping to a random page and points at a problem.
“Teach me how to do this,” Yoongi mumbles, eyes only on you and not whatever he was pointing at.
You look at him, a little thrown off. You glance over at the book and quickly scan the text, trying to see if you could actually help him at all. 
“Calculus? You’re in calculus?”
He silently nods his head, patiently waiting for you to do something.
“I’m not really the best at math, but I can tell you what I know and maybe you could try to put things together with your knowledge?” You didn’t even bother to look up at him, pulling the textbook more towards you so that you could read the problem again.
All you did was talk him through the problem and explain what some things are, but none of it managed to stay in his brain when all he was focusing on was your voice. God, he could listen to you for hours. 
He was scribbling stuff on his paper, working out the problem as you softly spoke to him.
“Ah, hyung—! You’re working on homework?!”
You immediately stood up from your spot, moving over to the side a bit to give Yoongi some space until you felt a grip around your wrist. You feel him pull you back down, making you sit right next to him with the side of your body touching his.
“You’re fine where you’re sitting,” he says in a low voice, head leaning closer to your ear.
Hoseok observes the two of you, getting a gist of what’s going on. He doesn’t sit down next to you like you thought he would, instead he starts walking away again, leaving you confused.
“I forgot—I have to make a phone call real quick.”
“Since when do you make phone calls?” You retort.
“Y/n, I’m a busy man. Don’t worry about it.” His eyes go from you to Yoongi, wiggling his eyebrows at him. You turn to look at Yoongi, watching the way he glares at Hoseok.
Yoongi blankly stared at him, not giving a fuck about whatever Hoseok this or Hoseok that has to do. He turns to look at you again once the other boy is out of the room.
“Could you quit looking at Hoseok like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know already.”
You scoff with a laugh. 
“Yoongi, be more specific with me. I can’t read your mind.”
“You give him the prettiest smile while batting those long eyelashes of yours—he’s gonna fall for you and I don’t want that shit to happen.”
The pout in his voice is noticeable, you found it cute.
“Why don’t you want it to happen? Didn’t I tell you I was coming for him next?”
He clenches his jaw, a firm line on his lips. Hearing that just pissed him off even more. Of course he would never want that. He wants you to himself, even though he can’t explain why he wants you so badly.
“You should be going for me. Not Hoseok.”
You force a fake smile on your face, placing a hand on his bicep. You gently rub your hand up and down before letting it sneak up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your fingertips play with the ends of his long hair, slightly massaging the back of his head—doing all this just to tease him again.
“Yoongi, I’m not going to be one of your easy picks. You can look for another girl who can fulfill your needs.”
You’re about to remove your hand away from him until he grabs your arm and places it right on top of his shoulder where it rested before.
“I don’t want “another girl”, princess. My eyes are set on you.”
“All you want me to do is to get your dick wet and then you’ll just toss me like every other girl you've hooked up with,” you scoff.
“But if I don’t plan on doing that to you, then what?”
“You want a gold star for finally not thinking like a little fuckboy? Finally being a decent human being?”
He rolls his eyes, annoyed with the fact you were right. He is an asshole and he’s known to be that type of asshole. But he wasn’t going to be that asshole to you.
“Yoongi, how the hell am I supposed to trust you?”
“I can prove to you that I’m serious about you.” 
“How can you be so serious about me when all we’ve done is hang out with each other once for a semi-hookup?”
“I guess you can call it love at first sight, doll,” he’s lazily smirking at you, a sight that makes you feel a little tingly inside.
You scoff again, hiding the little smile you had on your face from his stupid silly words. “Yoongi, you probably say that to every other girl just to convince them to hook up with you.”
“Alright, since you think all I do is think about sex, let's start by making it not about sex. I’ll go two weeks without masturbating or fucking any other women—which should be easy because all I want is you.”
There he goes again. He’s way too good at poking at your heart, making you feel something. God, you felt stupid but you can’t help but react that way. 
You slowly move your arm off of his shoulder and slide your hand over to his chest, taking your index finger to play with the string of his hoodie by wrapping it around your finger.
“Make it four weeks.”
He’s taking one of his hands and gently sliding it over the side of your waist, caressing that area by moving his hand up and down.
“When did that hook up between us happen again?”
You furrow your eyebrows, thrown off by him asking this at this moment.
“2 weeks ago, I think?”
He’s smiling, leaning his head over to the side of yours, his breath tickling your ear.
“I’ve got two weeks left then, princess. You can ask Hoseok to confirm it if you want.”
You stare at him with a puzzled face when he pulls away from you. 
“Hoseok knows when you jerk off?”
He lets out a low laugh, one of those throaty ones. You watch him as he smiles big with his teeth and gums all out. 
“No—,” he chuckles, “he doesn’t. He knows that I haven’t been with anyone since I met up with you. I can confirm for myself that I haven’t jerked off at all these past 2 weeks—if that’s what you’re more worried about.”
You gently shove him away by the shoulders, annoyed by his teasing. But his grip around your waist tightens, and he’s pulling you closer to him.
“Alright, go ahead then.”
“Atta’, girl,” he hums, “but know that if I want something, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I get it.”
-
To be completely honest (and kind of stupid to admit), you didn’t expect him to last this long. Hoseok knew about the deal that was going on and he always brought up the fact that Yoongi hadn’t been going out or seeing anyone whenever he saw you in class—kinda funny, right? He only had a day left and you were sure you were going to lose. 
Now, instead of accepting defeat, wouldn’t it be better to spice things up before you could come to terms with losing? 
You were chuckling to yourself as you took pictures of yourself as you laid in bed. You pressed your arms together, making your breasts look larger in your plain black bra. You couldn’t leave out the matching black, lacey thong you had on too, so you took a couple snaps from the front and the back. Soon enough, you were already pressing the red button on your phone screen. Legs spread out as you teased yourself on the outside of your panties, creating a little wet spot. 
Sent.
You take another clip of you massaging your breasts, slowly pulling down on your bra to reveal your hardened and pierced nipples. You gently flick your nipples with the tips of your finger nails, grazing against them ever so lightly, making sure your video clearly captures your little whimpers. 
Sent.
From your bedside drawer, you took out your pink dildo, recording another clip of you sucking on just the tip of it before bringing your head lower to lick a stripe from the bottom and back to the tip. Holding the toy by the base, you release the tip with a little ‘pop’, bringing that hand to slowly move it up and down. 
Sent.
You knew he had to fold. He just had to do something. I mean, not to be so full of yourself or whatever, how else would someone react if they received explicit videos and pictures from a person they liked? 
This just had to be one of your greatest plans. You were sure that Yoongi was going to lose. He just has to text you any second now—or even tomorrow morning. With that being said, you were able to sleep comfortably for the night.
.
The uneasiness of Yoongi not texting you started to grow when you saw no new messages on your phone when you woke up. It continued to grow little by little as hours passed by—still no response coming from him. 
You eventually gave up on the thought of you almost winning once the clock struck about 11:40 pm.
It was most definitely over for you. 
You just had to accept it.
Maybe you might’ve gone a little overboard—or a little too confident in yourself. You really thought he would take the bait.
“Hoseok, give me a second. I think someone’s at my door.” You glance up from your paper to look at him on your propped up phone.
“At this time?” He asks, concerned for your safety.
You shrug, not really giving the situation a thought.
“I’ll keep you on facetime but I’m muting you. Just keep an eye out for me if I don’t show up on your screen after more than 5 minutes.” You’re already reaching over to tap on the mute button and getting up from the floor before you stride towards your door.
You figured that it was probably your neighbors or some student from school. The apartment complex was primarily made up of students, so you were sure it had to be a student knocking. Honestly, you were used to the noisiness coming from outside, the occasional parties, or the ding-dong ditching that a little knock on the door at this time doesn’t really bother you.
You were met with another view—in fact, an insanely rare view—that you would have never expected. Standing face to face in front of you—with your oversized big shirt and skimpy panties underneath—was the one and only Min Yoongi. 
He looks you up and down, a smug look appearing on his face. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow, slightly scoffing before turning around to your phone to unmute it and leaving the boy at the door.
“Never mind, Hoseok, it was nobody. Just give me a minute.”
You immediately muted your phone again once you heard the door being locked and a little chuckle.
“A nobody—hm,” he hums.
He sticks his hands in his pockets, slowly making his way towards you as he takes a couple glances around your apartment. He stops and stands in front of you, leaving a couple feet in between.
“Yoongi, what the hell are you doing here?
“The photos and videos you sent me.”
You smiled, but quickly dropped it. A bit excited to hear him finally bring up the topic you’ve been waiting for. 
“Oh? Shit—I must’ve sent them to you by accident. They were for someone else.” You watch as one of his eyebrows furrowed together, clearly concerned with what you just said.
“Who?”
“Hoseok, of course.” You knew by saying this he would go mad—and that’s what you wanted to see. You wanted to push his buttons, make him frustrated with you, and see what he would do. 
“And the outfit? You’re wearing that while you’re on facetime with Hoseok?”
“Well, yeah—wouldn’t it be easier to give him a little show this way?” You say teasingly.
After that being said, his whole demeanor shifts. He’s clenching his teeth, causing his sharp jawline to be more defined. His eyes on you felt heavier, as if they were burning holes into your own. His flirty, teasing self that he usually had on him was gone. The change slightly scared you, but you didn’t want to show him that.
He was mad. 
He never wanted to hear that come out of your mouth ever again.
“Guess so?” Is all he says.
“Did you like the pictures at least?”
“Did I like the pictures?” He repeats, his tone strong.
He scoffs again, chuckling right afterwards.
The two of you turn to your phone when you both hear Hoseok calling out for you. Taking the phone in your hand this time, you unmute to quickly apologize to him. Before you know it, a pair of arms are wrapped around your waist and a head is resting on your shoulder.
“She’s busy, call later,” Yoongi mumbles, glancing over at your phone. You were too stunned to say something, his actions completely catching you off guard. 
“Hyung?! There you fucking are! You could’ve told me where you were heading to before running out like that—.” Yoongi quickly hits the ‘end’ button before the other boy could keep going. He’s taking your phone away from your hands and tosses it over somewhere on your couch before his arms find your waist again.
“I didn’t like the answer I heard earlier,” he hums.
“Which one?” 
You let out a little yelp when you feel him gently sink his teeth on your shoulder.
“Don’t play stupid with me, doll. You already know.”
“Ah,” you laugh a little awkwardly, “suddenly I do remember what you’re talking about.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes at your comment with a smile on his face.
“Were they really for him? Because I feel like they couldn’t be.”
“Why couldn’t they?”
It’s quiet for a second as he thinks to himself. 
“You drive me crazy, you know that? You and that little attitude of yours—just makes me want to fuck it right out of you.”
He lowers his head closer to your neck. His lips lightly brush against your skin before he slowly kisses a line down your neck. 
“Doubt you could.”
You keep your composure. Internally screaming at yourself that none of this was phasing you.
Because it definitely wasn’t.
Well, it shouldn’t—at least. 
“Yeah? Should I try?”
He released an arm from your waist, his hand already creeping up underneath your baggy shirt. The rough pad of his fingers caressing your soft skin.
Butterflies.
It’s all you could feel at this moment. 
He’s too smooth at this—that dumb, experienced but fine asshole.
You shouldn’t. 
You really shouldn’t.
It was a bad idea—I mean, does this man actually have a drop of interest in you?
You turn around while in his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re massaging the back of his head with a hand, then play with the ends of his long, black hair. His hands rest on your waist. 
“Shouldn’t you be doing this with a girl that you genuinely like?”
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow again, a face filled with disbelief. He scoffs, but a light chuckle comes out of his mouth right afterwards. 
“You just really like to rile me up, don’t ya, princess?” He lowly mumbles.
“Yoongi—!” You yelp, holding onto him tighter.
He’s hooking his hands underneath your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to lay you on the couch. You remove yourself from him, allowing him to hover himself above you.
“I don’t know how clear you want me to be, but I feel like I made it pretty clear that I’m serious about you.”
“You think that not jerking off or not hooking up with random girls for a whole month is really proof that you’d change just for me?”
“Well, wasn’t that the deal?”
“I mean I accepted it because I felt bad and it just seemed like you really wanted to prove something to me.”
“Yeah—because you won’t believe me that I’m actually into you.”
“This feels like something you’d say to every other girl you hook up with.”
“God—will you quit bringing up other girls?! I couldn’t care any less about them if I have you in front of me.”
Butterflies. It’s the stupid butterflies again.
“Shut up,” you mumble, turning your face away from him to avoid his gaze.
A quick pause of silence. Not enough time to collect your thoughts.
“What? Did I get your heart to skip a beat? Is that why you won’t look at me right now?”
Without saying anything, you shook your head with your head still facing the other way.
“Cute,” he chuckles, his breath hitting your face. 
You feel the weight of him above you disappear. His hands were wrapped around your ankles, tugging them towards him as he sat near your feet.
“At least look at me when I eat you out.”
“Shut up,” your face grows a shade of red out of embarrassment. 
He couldn’t help but keep the teasing smile on his face. Yoongi positions himself that allows him to place your legs over his shoulders. He slowly lifts up your t-shirt that’s covering your lower half, leaning more towards your core.
“Such pretty panties,” he hums, “just for me to see, huh?”
“No,” you say without glancing down at him, “it was for Hoseok.”
With no warning, Yoongi’s taking his thumb to rub circles on the outside of your panties and against your clit. You slightly gasp in surprise, mumbling a “Yoongi, wait” under your breath.
“Of course you would say that. You really make me want to fuck that brattiness out of you. Turn you into a girl who wants just me—my girl.”
Lowering his thumb to where your hole would be at, he brings his face to your covered core and tries to bite on your covered nub but instead gently grazes his teeth against it. He takes his tongue and flattens it against it, making the fabric even wetter than before.
You gasp, immediately covering your mouth with your hands to stop yourself. You felt a shiver run down your spine, shots of electricity on the places he touches.
“Hmm, was that little gasp from me or him?” 
You already knew you wanted to keep messing with him, make him mad just for fun. But before you could answer he’s already pulling your baby pink skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe from your hole to your most sensitive part. 
“Ah—Yoongi!” You yelp with an airy voice. 
He’s pulling back, chuckling, very happy with your answer. 
“So sweet, princess. I think I’m gonna be addicted.”
The boy goes back to your heat, mouth going straight to your clit. He’s sucking on it, swirling his tongue around it as he does so. You remove your hands from your face, quickly bringing them to his hair. Your fingers get tangled in his long, black hair as you tug on him to bring his face closer to you. Yoongi laps up your essence that flows out of you, coating a little bit of his chin. You’re whining as he sloppily kisses your clit, feeling how wet you are from the mixture of his saliva and your own wetness.
You yelp again once you feel Yoongi’s thick, long finger slowly enter your hole.
“It just slid right in. Fuck—you’re so wet, baby.”
He hums against your clit, thrusting his finger slowly in and out of you, causing you to groan in pleasure.
“Yoon..gi—please—,” you whine with a choke, already feeling yourself go blank. 
He’s already adding a second finger, curling it upwards and picking up the pace as he thrusts them into you. 
“Fuck—pleasepleaseplease!!”
You didn’t know what exactly you were begging for, and neither did he. But it got him chuckling when he heard your little pleads.
“Cum on my face, baby, and I’ll give you whatever you’re asking for.” He places a couple kisses onto your inner thigh before he dives back into your pussy.
Your eyes are rolling back, your whole body feeling warm. Yoongi doesn’t waste any time on sucking on your little sensitive bead. Your body speaks for itself as loud squelching noises and your whimpers fill the room. He can feel you tightening around him already, a sign he knew that you were about to come undone. He’s plunging his fingers into you, making sure you’re fully taking them in. The slurping sounds and grunts he makes get louder, but not as loud as you were. 
“Ah! Yoongi—!” You cried, digging the heel of your foot to his back, which allowed you to raise your hips up. He’s immediately pushing you back down, his free hand wrapped around your thigh in an attempt to stop you from moving. 
“Cum,” he says, humming into your core, then immediately flicking his tongue against your clit.
Something in you snaps—it was as if he was able to control you, your legs start to shake as you finally cum on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, slowly thrusting his fingers into you and moving his face to your inner thigh to pepper kisses onto it again.
“Good girl,” he coos, removing his fingers and lifting your legs off his shoulders to set them on either side of him. He watches as your breathing evens and your eyes flutter open. He’s rubbing circles with his thumb on top of your thigh as he holds onto them, enjoying this small moment.
“Use me like how you used that toy of yours in the photos and videos you sent me. Show me how you play with yourself, baby.”
“You’re too bossy.”
“But you like it,” he’s smiling, sitting against the armrest of the couch on the other side. 
You sit up, closing your legs and tugging your t-shirt to show some modesty.
“Mmm, I do. But I think you’d like it even more if I was the bossy one.”
“Alright,” he chuckles, “go ahead and be bossy, princess.”
You carefully get up with wobbly legs and stand in front of the boy, who immediately turns his whole body so that he’s seated properly. You get on your knees and then sit on your heels, looking up at him with innocent yet slightly fucked-out eyes.
“I won’t be blindfolding you this time. But there’s still going to be no touching, so put your hands under your thighs and keep them there.”
He’s rolling his eyes with a small scoff.
“Not this shit again. You’ll leave me like last time.”
You laugh, giving him a gentle slap to his thigh.
“So do you not want me to do what I did in that video I sent you?”
He’s already shoving his hands under his thighs, impatiently waiting for you to start.
You start to pull down his sweatpants, along with his boxers and he helps you by lifting his bottom up. There you’re met with his hardened cock, sprung up and against his lower torso. Your hand immediately goes to the base of it to gently squeeze him, your fingertips barely able to touch. You glance up at him, carefully watching his strained face that’s asking for more.
You move your head closer, leaning in more a bit to gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit onto the tip of his cock. You slide your hand up and down to spread it around. Finally, you take your tongue and press it against his slit, your touch instantly making him hiss. Wrapping your lips around just the tip, you suck on it and swirl your tongue around the shape of it. He was on the thicker side, but with a decent length. You were unsure if you would be able to actually fit him in your mouth (or even in you), but nevertheless you were determined to make him cum even if you had to completely stuff him in your mouth.
Slowly, you push your head down on him. You begin to bob your head, taking him in little by little. Having him barely halfway in your mouth already verified that he was in fact pretty big. You used your hand to wrap around whatever else you couldn’t reach, pumping his cock at the same speed as your mouth.
“Fuck—,” he hissed, “don’t push yourself too hard, baby.” His teeth were clenched together, doing what he could to stop himself from groaning.
This was what he has been waiting for: to be intimate with you. It’s what he was anticipating at the beginning, but he feels that the wait for it was making this whole experience feel too damn good. 
Yoongi’s throwing his head back, listening to the most vulgar sounds coming from you as you choked and gagged on his cock. He’s looking back at you, watching the way you took him in with tears running down your face.
What a fucking sight.
“Look at me, baby. Eyes on me,” his voice gruff.
You follow his directions, looking at him through your eyelashes and eyes all watery. Your eyebrows furrowed as you push yourself down on him more, a trail of saliva leaking out of the corner of your mouth. 
“So pretty,” he grunts. The only thing that he was missing right now was his hands being all over you, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk and make things turn around like how it did the first time. 
You pull away with a little ‘pop’, giving him a sweet and innocent smile before using the tip of your tongue to trace the long and bulging vein underneath his cock. Once you make it back to the tip, you stick out your flattened tongue. With your hand still on the base, you move his cock against your tongue, moving it side to side and then roughly hitting your tongue with just the tip before taking him in again. You hum around him and swirl your tongue around him as you quickly bob your head.
He lets out another strained groan, followed by a hushed mumble of your name. You wanted to get him to cum, to make himself lose control just like how he did earlier. However, giving him head and seeing the way he was right now was turning you on. You could feel yourself throbbing, selfishly wanting a little more. Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t want to finish off in your mouth. He wanted to be inside you; he had to finish inside you. 
“Fuck. I can’t do this.”
Yoongi quickly takes out his hands from under his thighs and removes you from him, halting your movements. Quickly, he stuffs himself back into his sweatpants. He’s lifting you up again, his arms under your thighs and his body pressed against yours. You hold him tightly around his neck, clinging on to him like you were a koala.
“Room. Tell me now.”
“The first door down the hallway on the right.”
He’s speeding his way down there, sitting down on the bed first while he is holding on to you. Yoongi lays back, scooting himself upwards so that his head is more on your pillows. He positions you to sit on his crotch, but you move back onto his thighs to prevent yourself from grinding on his hard-on.
He’s caressing your sides as the two of you look at each other, eyes filled with lust.
“Let me see you ride me like how you do with your dildo. I won’t touch you this time, I swear,” he’s putting his hands behind his head, “please, baby.”
He was desperate. Insanely desperate.
And he looks cute to you when he’s desperate. You couldn’t blame him for feeling that way because you were feeling the same. Without saying anything, you lift up your hips and hover above his thighs. You pull his hard cock back out of his pants, holding it up as you position yourself above it.
“Wait—condoms—damn it!” He mumbles, “I didn’t bring any because I wasn’t really expecting to go far.”
You watch him groan in frustration, clearly mad at himself.
“Fuck–sorry. I’ll go buy some. I think I saw a gas station down the road? Just–fuck–please don’t lock me out, y/n.”
He finally looks at you, eyes met. He looked desperate. Absolutely desperate.
You’re biting your bottom lip out of habit, quietly thinking to yourself. You let go of his cock, allowing it to hit his lower stomach. You place yourself on top of it, your wet, bare folds against the length of his cock.
“Am I going to be the last person you’ll ever be fucking?”
You move your hips, gently grinding yourself against him to rile him up a bit, causing him to swear under his breath.
“You’re the only girl I ever want to fuck.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.
“I better be.”
He’s chuckling now, a big lopsided smile plastered on him, and a little less tense.
You’re raising your hips again, grabbing his thick cock and placing it under you. With your panties pushed to the side, you drag the tip of his cock against your wet folds, causing you to clench around nothing. The excitement and nervousness was causing you to shake a little, and he was immediately able to notice it. He grabs you by your wrist, your eyes follow along his arm and fall onto his face.
“If you don’t want to do this, don’t force yourself, okay?” He’s looking at you, his eyes soft and concerned for you. A whole different side to him.
You smile at him, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips—completely forgetting your meaning behind kisses and catching him off guard.
“I want this as much as you do.”
He’s looking at you, nodding his head with a dazed look, questioning his whole existence.
Did this mean…? Or was it an accident?
He still shouldn’t try to initiate another kiss from you—what if you just leave him again?
…Right?
Before he could get his thoughts together, he was already feeling your pussy wrap around the top portion of his cock. You’re letting out a whine as you slowly ease yourself down on him, just like you would with your toy. Yoongi hisses at you tightly squeezing onto him—god it was making him go insane.
“Y-yoongi,” you gasp, “t-too bi-g!”
You stay still on top of him, squeezing onto him uncontrollably as you wait for yourself to get used to him. Having him inside you definitely confirmed he was on the thicker side; it immediately had you rolling your eyes back at how full it made you feel. Although you weren’t moving, you were a little noisy—little mumbles of swears and his name or airy whines. It turned him on a lot, and it took a lot in him to not take over right now.
“Good girl,” he grunts, eyes focused on the look at your face. “You take me in so good.”
Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being stuffed was too good, but you were wanting something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against Yoongi’s. You lean back, holding yourself up by placing your hands on top of Yoongi’s thighs. Your mouth hangs open as your hips move in circles.
“So pretty, baby,” he coos. 
His eyes couldn’t leave at the view of your pussy sucking him in. It’s like you didn’t want him to ever remove himself from you. He takes his hand to move the front part of your panties to the side, exposing more of you. He brings his thumb to his tongue and gives it a little lick before bringing it back to you. He presses his thumb against your swollen and sensitive clit, drawing circles around it.
“Yoongi!” You squealed, your hips stuttering.
“Keep moving baby, you can do it.”
You’re begging for who knows what and mumbling his name in between. The sweetest moans and whimpers escaping your mouth was all music to his ears. He could listen to this all day. 
The sight of you nearly losing yourself from his cock, how noisy you were from just barely grinding on him—Yoongi loved it all.
Fuck, he really loved it all. 
He craved for more, though. This wasn’t enough.
“God, I can’t hold back. I’ve got to kiss you.”
He’s extending his arm out to you, placing his large hand behind your neck, pulling you closer to him. You press your body against him as you lay on top of him. Your lips immediately find his. He’s kissing you with hesitation, afraid of you pulling back and ending it all. But your arms travel to its way to wrap around his neck, holding him close to you. It gave him the sense that you were okay with this. Both of his hands slither to the sides of your ass, gripping onto them as he spreads them apart and slaps your ass with a loud smack. His hands end up resting on the top of your ass, guiding you up and down as you bounced on his cock. 
You’re groaning in pleasure, head going blank. He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt as it was trying to fight for dominance with his, and how it felt too good to suck on your tongue to get a moan out of you. 
He’s already pulling away, but your body didn’t want him to stop.
“Yoongi—,” you whimper with a pout on your lips, eyes glassy, “—more please.”
“More what, baby?”
“Just kiss me again, please–,” you whine.
He thought he was going absolutely insane. 
Just those few words made his chest feel so heavy.
While keeping one hand on your ass, he takes the other and brings it to the back of your head, crashing your lips against each other. You keep yourself there, his hand moving back to your ass to help you move down on him as his hips continue to thrust upwards into you.
You’re moaning loud. Way too loud. And all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth— or press his lips hard against yours. You part away from his lips, burying your face against the crevice of his neck.
“Yoongi—ah-,” you squeal, “fuck, please—!”
He’s chuckling at the way you weren’t making sense, mumbling anything that you could even spit out. It was cute—he was making you go dumb in the brain. 
“You’re doing so good, baby—fuck,” his hold on your ass tightens, as he’s thrusting into you even harder.
He could feel your movements slowing, getting tired. It came to the point where you held your hips high while hovering over him, letting him thrust upwards as you’re leaning over and moaning into his neck.
With a couple more thrusts, he’s easily sliding out of you. 
“Yoongiii—,” you whined, but he ignores it. Instead he’s sitting you two up, standing up and holding you up with his hands under your bottom, turning around and laying you on the bed this time. He pulls you down closer to the edge of the bed by your legs. You’re slowly pressing your legs together, missing him being in between you. 
“Don’t leave,” you mumble softly with a pout on your lips. Your eyes glistening yet were filled with lust. 
Yoongi’s eyes soften as he looks at you with adoration. He could feel his heart become fuller. And the urge to wrap his arms around you just to squeeze you tight become stronger.
Fuck—call him crazy because he must be really in love with you. 
He had to make you his—it just felt right to have you.
He’s moving your legs to the side, allowing him to lean over and peck a soft kiss on your lips.
“I would never.”
Yoongi stands up straight, removing his hoodie and t-shirt to reveal his toned torso. He then sheds off his sweatpants and boxers, standing completely naked in front of you.
He’s tugging onto your panties, helping you remove them and tossing them somewhere in your room. 
“This—,” he starts to push up your baggy shirt, “—off.”
You lift your arms and head up as he helps you get the shirt off of you, but your arms immediately fall on top of your breasts, covering them up.
His eyes roam around your body, taking mental photos for him to think about later. 
“Don’t hide, baby,” he hums, taking his hands to pull your legs apart, exposing the lower part of your body. His hands go for yours, removing them from your breasts and pinning your hands above your head.
“Yoongi—!” You squeal.
“God, I’ve been waiting for these especially.” 
He’s staring too hard at your perky, soft tits. A silver metal bar with two balls at the ends of it pierced right through both of your nipples. He knew you had them; he saw them right through your top the first time he met you. He just wanted to see it all underneath and in-person. Fuck, you were sexy. Too fucking sexy. Just looking at you makes him way too goddamn hard—he could probably just cum just like that. Even earlier with just your oversized t-shirt and your hair down, you were just as sexy. 
He keeps one hand around your wrists and takes his free hand to your left breast, gently massaging it with your nipples in between his index and middle finger. He leans down to encase your hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his wet tongue around it, fiddling with the little piercing, before sucking on it.
You let out his name in an airy moan, arching your back instinctively. He releases you and moves his head higher, placing his lips on the soft skin of the upper part of your breasts, sucking and nibbling on it until it turns a nice shade of red. 
“My pretty girl,” he’s mumbling against your skin. 
He’s leaving a trail of kisses that lead to your other breast, switching hands so that he’s now groping the other breast he was just giving love to. Yoongi flattens his tongue against your nipple, allowing it to graze against it before he's using the tip of his tongue to draw circles around it. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensations you were getting from it was just making you wetter. Your nipples were just so sensitive that your little moans and gasps were inevitable. Soon, he’s marking you up—a couple of love bites scattered around the flesh of your breasts.
“Yoongi—want your cock—please,” you mumble.
Pulling away, he looks at you—helpless and vulnerable underneath him. No bratty attitude or little unnecessary comments. Just you begging—wanting him and just him. It’s a sight he could definitely get used to.
He lets go of your wrists, but you keep them there. He’s grabbing his length, giving it a couple strokes before he runs the tip down your slit to collect your wetness, causing you to shiver.
“Anything for you, princess,” 
He’s lining up himself in front of you, the tip slowly starting to sink in. 
“Let me know if you want to stop–please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he’s leaning over, head positioned next to your ear.
You nod your head, not trusting your mouth as he’s slowly sinking in. You’re scrunching your face, wincing a bit from still not being used to his size. He waits again for you to adjust again, making sure you’re doing okay. 
He’s spreading your legs apart more, pushing your bent legs down to make more space. His hands rest on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly. He was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts more gentle than how he was earlier. Despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough for you.
“Yoongi—more,” your eyes flutter open, “fuck me like I’m your slut.”
Your words threw him off, but it did manage to make him feel something. 
He pulls all the way back and rams himself back into you with a hard thrust. You let out a loud moan of his name, eyes rolling back and closed shut. He keeps himself at a steady pace, making sure his thrusts are hard enough to get you to keep babbling nonsense.
“‘Like you’re my slut’, hm?” He’s chuckling, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip, tugging it gently. “Guess I forgot my baby likes being rough,” he starts to push him thumb into your mouth, your lips instantly wrapping around it.
“Suck.” He demands, and you do it shamelessly. Your hands go up to your breasts, cupping them underneath before massaging them.
He’s admiring the way you looked again—stuffed both ways. You’re making a mess around him and his thumb, while you were fondling your marked up tits, and your pussy just can’t help but keep sucking him right back in. Fuck. It’s heavenly.
“You look so pretty, princess. I want to be the only one who gets to see you this way.”
He’s snapping his hips harder, grunting with every move. He’s removing his thumb, but your mouth hangs wide open.
“Yoongi—fuck—ngh—!” You’re whining a lot, chanting his name as you beg for no reason.
“Yeah? Is my pretty slut going to cum?” 
He brings his thumb to your clit, applying some pressure onto it before he starts rubbing it in circles. You were feeling lightheaded, vision blurry as tears started to form in your eyes. He thrusts into you as hard as he can, the sounds echoing off the walls. 
“—Nnghh—Yoon—gi!” You choked.
He’s hovering over you, his free hand next to your head as it’s holding him up. Your thighs were almost pressed against your chest, sort of folding your body in half. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, hitting you in all the right places.
“God!” He slams himself, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, “fuck!”
Yoongi quickens his speed with his thumb on your clit, making you clench tightly around him. He knew you were about to come. He’s already memorized your signals from earlier. You were on the brink of doing so, and he was just about at his limit too.
“‘m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he growls into your ear, “sluts like you like that, huh princess?”
“Please—!” You squeak, “want it so bad!”
Fuck—that does it.
He just couldn’t say no to you.
He’s standing up straight, hands back on your waist to hold you steady. If it was even possible, he was drilling into you even harder and faster. Eager to get the two of you to cum. You grip onto his muscular arms, fingernails digging into his skin, arching your back. Your panting becomes louder, but the obscene, wet squelching noises start to drown your moans. The knot inside you was about to come undone, you just couldn’t handle it anymore. With another moan of his name—and a couple other words—, you finally reach your high, cumming on his cock. 
Yoongi could’ve sworn you mumbled a little ‘I love you’ as you came undone. Triggering him to not be able to hold it in anymore. He stutters in his movements, taking a couple long thrusts before he releases load, painting the insides of your walls white.
He gives you a couple weak thrusts, wanting to keep his cum deep in you before he removes himself. As he pulls out, he watches the mixture of you both slowly spill out of your abused hole. He’s running to grab a kleenex from on top of your dresser, cleaning up the mess you two have made.
Before he could even ask you if you were okay, you were fast asleep. You just couldn’t help it when your body was just so exhausted.
He’s chuckling at your sleeping figure, finding it cute that you fell asleep right after fucking.
Yoongi lifts up the notebook paper up to his face, squinting at the words scribbled onto it.
‘Thanks for the night. Went out for a little, so feel free to leave whenever. I’ll take care of cleaning :)!’
Fuck.
Fuck.
A ‘one-night-stand.’ 
Yoongi scoffs in disbelief. 
He got played by you.
A quick fuck and that was just it.
He’s running his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair, hand moving down to rub his face. He groans into his palm, plain annoyed. 
He’s quickly getting up, putting his sweats over his boxers as he searches for his hoodie.
Standing there near the edge of the bed, his eyes scan the room to see it nowhere to be found.
Perhaps you wore it out?
He's smiling to himself, the thought of that happening actually making him feel giddy. 
He opts to just wear the shirt he was wearing underneath, dragging his feet across the floor as he heads over to open your bedroom door. It then finally hit him that he had the freedom to roam around your apartment, wait for you to come back home, or make an attempt at figuring out where you might’ve gone. 
He entered the awfully quiet living room, your papers still scattered on your coffee table. 
He could still smell the faint aroma of coffee that’s lingering in the room, as if someone just recently made a fresh cup of coffee—he knew you still had to be around here or that you had just barely left.
Yoongi’s looking around, checking to see if you’ve taken your keys with you—nope. 
But you did leave the door to your balcony open.
Ah-ha…
And there you were.
Outside on the small balcony of your apartment, body against the railing. You were watching the calmness of the morning, or whatever that was out there, with a coffee mug in your hand. He’s walking up to you, admiring how tiny and cute you looked, drowning in his hoodie before pressing his back against yours. He wraps his toned arms around your shoulders. He takes his hand and cups your chin, tilting your head back so that you can see him upside down. Yoongi brings his sleepy face close to you, pressing a firm yet tired kiss against your lips. Your lips immediately reciprocate, feeling his hand that was on your chin slide down to your neck. He pulls away with a low groan—either because of you or that he's tired (probably a mix of both).
You tilt your head forward, looking back at the mellow street.
“Too much creamer,” he mumbles sleepily, licking his lips. He brings his head next to the side of yours, resting it on top of your shoulder. His breath hits against the side of your neck as he exhales. 
You chuckle at his comment.
“Did I scare you?”
Yoongi’s quiet for a second, tightening his hold around you. He brushes his lips against the side of your neck, then leaves gentle kisses on the same spot.
“A little…but I am at your apartment, so I would’ve waited for you to come home.”
You’re smiling big. 
Damn. He got you. He’s really got you smiling like a whole doofus. Guess you didn’t think this through.
“Ah—,” you groan with a laugh afterwards, bringing up your hands to push him away, “go home already.” 
His hold loosens as you push your way free. He’s chuckling too as he watches you walk away all flustered and to the door. He’s quick to catch up with you, closing the door behind him as he enters. You don’t realize that Yoongi was still following you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist again once you set your coffee on the counter.
“There’s enough space for both of us here.”
“What makes you think I’d want you to stay here?”
He hums, resting his chin on top of your head.
“Mmm, weren’t you the one who told me that you loved me first?”
“It was in the heat of the moment.”
“Ah…,” he pauses, “and the kisses you were begging from me?”
“Also in the heat of the moment.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning you around so that you’re facing him. He’s bending down to pick you up with his hands under your thighs, sitting you on top of the counter. He leans in to kiss you slowly and you reciprocate, arms already wrapping around his neck.
When he pulls away, catching you with a little pout on your face which makes him chuckle.
“‘Heat of the moment’ my ass—you seemed to like that kiss and you’re giving me a look that’s telling me you want more, hm?”
You shook your head.
He leans in to peck your lips once, twice—a third time.
“Shouldn’t you be pushing me away since you don’t like me that way?”
You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head afterwards. A small pause of silence. 
He wanted to hear you say it. Loud and clear.
“I do like…,” you mumble, trailing off. You turn your head away, looking over to the side.
“Louder for me, baby.” He takes his hand and brings your face to look at him again.
You sigh, rolling your eyes.
“You’re cute and all—,” you mumble, but quickly add on, “—but I want to get to know you more first.”
You watch the side of his lips slowly turn upwards. He’s smiling big, as if he finally won the gold medal in a marathon. Then he’s chuckling—both in relief and because of you being so cute.
‘Finally’ he thought. He’ll take what he can get.
“I told you baby,” he’s bringing his hands up to cup your face, a thumb caressing one of the sides of your cheek, “if I want something, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means taking you out on a million dates to get you to be my girlfriend. That’s been my plan for the past few weeks.”
Rolling your eyes again with a smile. You pucker your lips, signaling for him to give you a quick kiss, which he does with no hesitation.
“You’re so annoying.”
With his hands still cupping your face, he squishes your face, your lips even more puckered which makes it hard for you to speak. 
“I’m all yours, got that? I’m not going to have a one-time-thing with you.”
“You sure about that?”
“You really think I’d just let you go just like that?” He scoffs, with a smile. “You’re mine.” He’s removing his hands from your face, resting them on the sides of the counter top, trapping you in between.
“Okay, okay,” you snort with a chuckle, “d’you want breakfast at least?”
He’s eyeing you up and down, a small smirk on his face. You watch the tip of his tongue peak out, then licking his lips.
“Yoongi…,” you whine, “it’s too early,” you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face.
“It’s never too early, baby.” His hands move around to your waist, quickly embracing you into a tight hug, pulling you close to his body.
“Can’t you give me some more time to rest?”
He’s bringing his head to the side of your neck, lighting pressing his lips against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from the base of your neck to below your earlobe.
“I’ve given you plenty,” he mumbles against your skin.
“God you really are annoying.”
“You still like me though.”
As if he already knew what you would say, he gently bites down on the spot on your neck that he's been stuck on, causing you to let out an airy yelp.
“—I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking about saying it.”
“How would you know?”
He’s laughing at your attitude—he found you so fucking cute. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, his breath hitting the side of your neck. He’s tightening his hold around you a little more, while you bring a hand to his head to comb your fingers through his hair and gently massage his scalp.
There’s a small pause of silence. It wasn’t awkward—in fact it felt comfortable between the two of you, almost as if it was needed. This was all sort of new to Yoongi, and he found himself liking this a little too much. Sharing the same bed, waking up to you still around and in his clothes, morning kisses, your little attitude that he enjoys poking at, and the warm and tingly feelings he gets when he’s wrapped around you.
Maybe this is what he needed in his life—someone to finally smack him around and hold him down. Make him work harder than usual to get what he wants—or not give him immediately what he wants. Someone who will switch things up and surprise him. It just so happens that out of everyone he’s hooked up with, you managed to do all of that—and now you even got him wrapped around your finger.
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kookslastbutton · 7 months
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take care of you ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: To keep your fiance from burning out you suggest a weekend getaway to Gapyeong, a charming town about an hour outside Seoul. You've specifically asked him to leave his work equipment at home but like a deep rooted habit, he still brings it with him. You're left with no choice but to find a way to get his attention back.
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pairing: workaholic!yoongi x reader
genre/AU: fluff, tiny angst, smut, established relationship, vacation au, engaged couple
word count: 7,581
warnings: yoongi has a hard time relaxing so oc gets a little frustrated with him, oc and yoongi riding in a hot air balloon, yoongi gets a little shy with pictures, oc gets a tiny bit insecure, both very in love with each other, yoongi keeps calling oc Mrs even though they have not tied the knot yet, swearing, tiny misunderstanding (ik misunderstanding 😒 but its cute i swear!), sexual content
sexual warnings: switch!yoongi, switch!reader, lingerie, handj*b, oral (m. receiving), teasing, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, explicit sex (oc on birth control), f*cking from behind, missionary, f*cking on the floor, bigd*ck!yoongi, yoongi has a chain on, butt slapping (once), f*ngering, licking, biting, a tiny bit of breast play, slight begging kink, body worshipping, he calls oc sl*t once but it's tame, aftercare in bathtub
now playing: You Want to Make a Memory, With all My Heart, Perfect
a/n: I will not lie this pwp turning to a 7k fluff peice with smut. I am truly in love with this one and I miss yoongi 🥺 hope you enjoy 💞
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There are two things your fiance’ considers most precious in this world–you and his industrial-grade music equipment. Trying to pry either from his soft, veiny hands is enough to earn a death wish. But when you come between his music producing or when his music comes between your relationship…oh it's a fight.
Over the last four years, you’ve grown quite an admiration for Yoongi’s relentless dedication to work and profound love for music production. It’s his lifeblood and you would never in a million years even think about taking something so beautiful away from him. And truthfully, one of your favorite moments to witness is when he finds the perfect beat for a new song after twelve long hours of mixing. Seeing his gummy smile break free on his handsome face never fails to send you over the edge of sanity.
Ever since the first time Yoongi let you into his studio, you’ve been sneaking in any chance you can get. Watching him work is a whole experience that leaves you feeling a combination of awe, respect, and utter joy. He likes you there too, his face always lighting up when he sees your faint shadow moving behind the glass door. There’s been a handful of times you’ve used his studio for more than music producing too…but that’s an entirely different matter altogether.
So no, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest that Yoongi is devoted to his music. And if it did, well, you wouldn’t have agreed to marry him last month when he asked you, would you? (You’re still on cloud nine about that one…)
What does bother you, however, is when your fiance' doesn’t allow himself to take a break despite how burned out he clearly is. Not that you’re one to point fingers, being one to stretch yourself thin for the sake of professional responsibilities too. But even so, you’d argue that you’re in better shape than your fiance’ who literally works 24/7.
Day or night Yoongi is always in his studio or bringing his equipment everywhere he goes. You get the logic, you really do. But you care about his health most of all; something he tends to put last.
That’s why this week you made one tiny request–that you take a weekend trip together and that he leave his equipment at home.
But like an itch that won’t go away, Yoongi is adamant about stuffing his equipment in the trunk of his car.
“I thought we agreed you’d leave all of this at home this time,” you sigh and gesture at his equipment stacked in the far corner of the trunk.
Yoongi takes your suitcase from your hand and tosses it next to his own. “It’s a safety measure,” he justifies. “You never know when you’ll need it or when the right idea will strike you.”
“Min Yoongi.” Your voice is sharp and earns your fiance’s full attention, which is no simple task when it’s typically the other way around. “You promised me.”
He steps forward and puts his hands around your stiff shoulders–an attempt to soothe you. “I won’t use it unless absolutely necessary okay? You know I like having my music with me at all times so if anything it’s just for my own comfort. It’ll stay in some odd corner of our rental and not be touched.”
“What counts as absolutely necessary?” You narrow your eyes at him, unwilling to let him off that easily. So what if he looks ridiculously handsome today in his open white button-down shirt with a white t-shirt and ripped jeans underneath?
“Baby,” he coos in a raspy voice.
Fuck–you swear to yourself. Stay strong, __.
“How’s this…I won’t use it unless something on our trip really inspires me. Or unless I’m bursting with an idea and I’ll run it by you first. I’ll wait until night too, when we aren’t doing anything.” He grabs your hand, the one with the ring on it, and kisses it softly–how evil of him. “Please?”
You glance at his hand in yours and then back into his deep chestnut eyes. “Kiss me again and I’ll allow it,” you say.
Yoongi smirks at your reply and leans forward to press his pillowy lips against yours. It only lasts a few seconds before he pulls back.
“Okay?” he waits for your go-ahead which, shamelessly, you give him.
“Fine, but just remember the only thing I want you touching this weekend is me and not your keyboard. So if I see you sneaking it around behind my back I will not hesitate to strip naked in front of you until you’re forced to give it up.” You gently pull your hand from his hold and walk to the passenger side door.
“Fucking hell.” You hear your fiance’ curse as you both hop in the car. “You're gonna make me drive an hour and half with that thought replaying in my head?"
You don't meet the question with a response, but rather smile sweetly at him and turn volume of the car stereo up a few notches.
What else is there to say? You simply want him to enjoy himself for three days without having to get stressed over work.
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The place you and Yoongi are headed to is called Gapyeong, a small town about an hour away from Seoul. Its lush forests and clear streams give a sense of perfect serenity which is exactly why you chose the area. There are hot air balloon rides that'll provide you with an hours' worth of scenic views too, which is definitely at the top of the priority list.
The closer you get to Gapyeong the more you see the view out your windows changing. The bustling city with 60-story skyscrapers is now turning into majestic mountains, rivers, and vibrant greenery. You love Seoul but you miss nature sometimes.
"Yoongi look! " You point out the window when you spot a beautiful overlook up ahead It looks like the kind of spot many stop at due to a handful of other cars that are parked off the side of the road. "We should take a break and stretch our legs."
"Is that really necessary?" Yoongi asks with one hand gripping the steering wheel. "We're about twenty minutes from our rental and it's not even one o'clock yet. We have all day to look at sceneries and take pictures."
You toss him a slightly displeased look immediately. Little pit stops like these aren't your fiance's cup of tea as he'd much rather get from point A to point B. But if there's anything you want him to get out of this weekend, it's a break from routine.
"Come on Yoon, aren't you feeling a bit stiff from driving? We don't have to stay long," you do your best to plead with him. Yoongi glances at you and then at the empty space off the side of the road a few feet ahead. He sighs and signals over.
"Ten minutes," he says, putting the car in park. You grin excitedly and unbuckle your seatbelt.
"Let's go!" You lean over and surprise him with a quick kiss on his cheek. You want to point out the blush that creeps on his face but ultimately decide to keep that to yourself. Maybe you'll bring it up later. Yoongi tends to get more nervous when you point stuff like that out and besides, you like keeping little secrets from him sometimes.
"Alright, I'll admit it," he jumps out of the car and takes in the fresh air. "It's pretty nice out here. Reminds me of when I came here as a child with my parents." A light breeze blows a few strands of his pitch-black hair over his eyes but he cards it back with a few fingers.
"You came here as a child?" You move beside him to link onto one of his arms. Something about being this close to him makes you feel warm and safe.
Yoongi nods and walks both of you to the edge of the overlook to get the best view of the mountains surrounding the area. "When I was about ten years old my family and I took a trip up here. I'm not sure if this was the exact spot but it was an overlook similar to this. It was autumn too, the colors changing to shades of reds and oranges."
"Oh wow." You're embarrassed you didn't realize he'd been here before. Being this close to Seoul surely he would have but now it makes question coming here. Had he preferred to go elsewhere? And if he did, why wouldn't he have told you?
"I'm glad we came here together," he interrupts your thoughts as if knowing exactly what you're thinking. He then flashes you a tight-lipped smile. "I always thought I'd like to come here with someone special."
Your previous nerves are eased after this and you smile back, eyes piercing in his. He's so handsome with the way the natural light shines on his face. The thought comes from nowhere but you couldn't stop the next words even if you wanted to. "Can I take your picture?" you dig in your bag and grab your phone laying somewhere at the bottom.
Yoongi instantly breaks eye contact. "Uh–why? Don't you already have enough of me in there?" He chuckles, no short of shyness.
See. It's like you said before–he gets flustered at stuff like this.
You shrug casually at him and open the camera app on your cell. "I have hundreds of pictures of my boyfriend. But I still haven't gotten one of my fiance' yet." It's true, the last picture you took of him was before he proposed. You would have taken more since then but Yoongi is far less interested in them compared to you so you try not to overload him.
Yoongi shakes his head at your clever comeback. "We'll take it together." He reaches over to take your phone out of your hand but you move it further from his grasp.
"Just one of you first," you say. "Please?"
"Aigoo," he hits the railing of the overlook playfully. "I'll allow it this once, Mrs. Min. Where do you want me?"
"Yoon...." you flush hearing him refer to you as Mrs. You and Yoongi recently got engaged a month ago and the wedding won't be held until next spring. "Isn't it a little soon to be calling me that?" you ask with hot cheeks.
"Oh, I got ahead of myself." He scratches the back of his head and shifts his eyes towards the mountains again. "Let's take the picture okay?"
"Okay." You loop your arm out from his. "But Yoon?"
"Hm?"
"It's okay that you called me that. I like it even if it's a bit soon." You lift your phone camera and take a photo of him before he has time to respond. It's a cute shot with the breathtaking forest and mountains behind him. Your finace' has his signature gummy smile on as well, the one that makes you forget where you are entirely.
This one will go in the album you have dedicated to your memories with him for sure.
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After stopping at the overlook you and Yoongi finally arrive at your quaint vacation rental. The size is just right for a three-day stay and is centrally located with nature enclosing the premises. To sum, it's private yet welcoming.
"This is the last of it," he says, setting his music equipment on the dining table. "What do you want to do now?"
"I'm kinda hungry for lunch. Maybe we can go to a local spot and then see if there are any balloon rides open?"
"You wanna do the balloon ride on the first day?"
"Why not?" We're only here for a limited time and tomorrow we're going to Nami Island so I thought we could do something leisurely tonight. And then I was thinking we could watch a movie."
The corner of Yoongi's mouth quirks into a half-smile. "You planned this out pretty thoroughly I see. Not a second to spare."
"Mhm," you say, shifting your stance when you see your finace' coming face to face with you.
"This wouldn't be you making sure I stay away from my computer would it?" He tests with interrogative eyes, knowing that it's exactly what you're doing. When you take longer to reply than he'd like, Yoongi continues speaking. "I don't mind by the way. I just think it's sweet so thank you."
You open your mouth to respond but a loud grumbling noise from your stomach stops you. Yoongi laughs and takes your hand to drag you out the door of your rental. "I think it's time I take care of you this time," he says. "I saw a pretty good place to eat a few blocks away."
Once you get in the car Yoongi reaches in his pocket for his phone but it's not there. "I think I left my phone in the kitchen when I was bringing stuff in. I'll be right back." He hops out of the car once you give a brief okay.
Namjoon: Hey man, hope you have a good time with __ this weekend! You both deserve some relaxing time. But I gotta ask, how's the new song going? Any progress?
Yoongi quickly taps on his phone's keyboard with a small sigh.
Yoongi: Not really. I've been working on it for weeks and I can't seem to get anything right. It's driving me crazy.
Namjoon: I get it and I don't have to tell you how challenging producing new music is. You still have time though so don't push yourself too much. Take in the weekend and maybe the inspiration will strike you.
Yoongi: I'll try. __ will likely kick my balls if I work this weekend. Namjoon: Ah just like __. Well, you left your equipment at home, right? So no worries! Yoongi: I mean I have it here but I promised not to use it unless necessary.
As soon as he sends the text everyone starts rapidly texting in the chat. Yoongi rolls his eyes at the sight of all the lurkers suddenly becoming vocal.
Seokjin: Yah! Tell me this is a joke! Jimin: Come on Yoongi you can't be serious! Hoseok: Ah Yoongi-hyung, always working! Be careful you still have a finace' after this! Taehyung: Hyung, I think you should focus on your future Mrs. She obviously wants to spend time with you this weekend, not fighting for your attention with your computer! Jungkook: Think about what you're doing hyung. Pick one: sex or no sex.
Namjoon: This isn't about sex Jungkook
Jungkook: It will be if Yoongi-hyung pisses off __! Yoongi: Everyone shut up, I didn't bring my music equipment to work okay? It's just a safety measure. Jimin: Wrong equipment to bring on a weekend away with your lovey hyung...why didn't you ask me about this first? Jungkook: At least someone is on the same page as me! Namjoon: For the last time this isn't about sex! Yoongi: I really don't have time for this right now. __'s in the car and we're about to go eat. See ya. Seokjin: What the hell are you doing? Making __ wait while you text your friends!
Yoongi turns his phone off and slips his cell back in his pocket. He'll deal with them later.
"Sorry, it took a bit." He gets back into the car and opens his maps app. "Let me just get the directions up."
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Half an hour into lunch Yoongi's talking significantly less compared to earlier at the overlook. He doesn't seem tired but more disengaged.
"Everything alright?" You ask.
Yoongi looks up from his plate with a nonchalant expression. "Yeah why?"
"No reason," you lie. "Just wondering if you're feeling okay is all. Nothing happened while you went back inside the rental to get your phone right?" You let out a nervous giggle and it makes Yoongi soften his gaze. He drops his chopsticks and closes his hand over yours.
"I think I need to remember how to vacation," he says. This is true but the much bigger reason for his sudden disengagement is that getting the text from Namjoon reminds him of the new song he'd like to have finished sooner than later. He shouldn't be paying attention to it while on a vacation with you but it's a difficult habit to shake.
"Let work go for a bit Yoon," you reply. "I understand how much your music means to you but I want you to be able to unhinge a little too. The last thing I want to see is you overworking yourself."
"I guess you're right."
"Of course I am. Now try this." You clear the thick air by holding out your chopsticks with some of the best, richest kimchi stew you ever had. And that's saying a lot since you've basically been obsessed with it for years. The spice from the cabbage mixed with the hearty pork broth is to die for. "Isn't it good?"
Yoongi eats what you've offered him. "Wow, that's delicious. Here try mine." He does the same as you but with some barbecued pork. He makes sure to blow on it first to contrast the heat of the grill it was on.
"This is an excellent place to eat." You swallow the tasty pork and take a sip of your water. "We should leave a review, especially since it's a local restaurant."
"Sure, I can write one online before we leave."
And he kept to his word. Yoongi left a decent praise for the restaurant about fifteen minutes before finishing up your meal. You both signed the cute guest book at the front too.
'Great atmosphere, great food, great dinner date. We'll come back again after our honeymoon – Min Yoongi & __'
.
After lunch, Yoongi fulfills your wish of going on a hot air balloon. The pilot assists you into the basket and stays with you the entire time of the flight. Regardless of his presence, however, you and Yoongi are able to maintain a healthy level of intimacy. And besides, it's not like you both have a ridiculous need to make out all the time.
Your relationship was more subtle so to speak; everything was in the details. Gentle touches, small favors, remembering the more significant and least significant facts about each other. That's how you and Yoongi love and connect with each other.
Still, you like a good make-out session as much as the next guy but making out with the pilot only steps away? You and Yoongi prefer privacy–light kissing was okay though.
"The view is better than I expected," you say with your arms wrapped around your fiance's waist. "Thank you for doing this for us. It's unbelievable."
Yoongi holds onto you as well, his arms around your shoulders and back. "I wouldn't dream of coming here and not doing this with you. The weather is perfect for this sort of activity too."
While the balloon drifts over all of Gapyeong, its charming nature on full display, you snuggle yourself into Yoongi's chest. The moment is completely surreal and you can't imagine a life without him by your side. And what's more, is that he feels the exact same way.
"Yoon?" You lift your head to meet his face.
"Hm?" His eyes are set straight ahead, giving you a side profile.
"Can you kiss me while we're up here?" You whisper the words but he doesn't quite hear you evident by his lack of response. "I want you to kiss me," you repeat.
Yoongi looks at the pilot who shifts his eyes elsewhere as if on queue. A pair of warm lips capture your cooler ones milliseconds after and surprisingly it's firm.
"I love you."
"I love you too __."
You snuggle back into his chest as he points out several areas he finds interesting, comparing them to different songs it reminds him of.
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You return to your rental around 7 p.m., right after dinner. Both you and Yoongi decided it is better to save the rest of the exciting activities tomorrow as originally planned and watch a movie. Dinner got you both stuffed to the high heavens too so you needed to turn in for the night.
"Hey baby?" he asks in the same raspy voice from earlier today while he was packing the car. Hearing it always makes your stomach do somersaults. Yoongi puts his hands on your waist and continues. "How would you feel if we watched the movie in an hour?"
You loop your arms around the back of his neck to draw him closer. "Okay. What do you have in mind?" You're sure you know where he's going with this until he starts hesitating his next words. And when you notice he's looking past you towards the dining table where all his equipment is stacked, you break from his hold.
"Min Yoongi, are you seriously trying to seduce me into letting you work tonight?" You throw your hands on your hips as most anyone in your situation would do.
"I'm not," he starts but pauses. "Okay I kinda was but I had such a wonderful time with you today that it gave me inspiration for one of my new songs. I'd kinda like to get a bit of it on my computer before I...forget it."
"Oh Yoon," you cross your arms.
"We can watch a movie right after. I don't even need an hour. How about half an hour. Twenty minutes?" He's must be onto something if he's trying to bargain with you this much. Well as much as it pains you, you're no she-devil. You'll let the man work but you're cutting him off at forty minutes only because if he gets to an hour, he won't stop for the rest of the night....or trip for that matter.
"Go ahead," you say.
Yoongi grins when you agree to your request, his eyes sparkle too. You're still borderline ticked about this but you said you'd let him work a little if necessary. And by the looks of it, he about to explode if you don't let him get his ideas out.
"Will you tell me what you're working on?"
"Top secret information. I can't tell you and risk exploiting the company." You slap his chest, feigning irritation. Yoongi chuckles and paces over to the dining table to unzip his laptop case. "I'll show you when it's done."
You take a seat at the table with him but find it extremely out of character when he gives you a displeased look.
"Uhm, wouldn't you be more comfortable on the couch baby?" he suggests, eyes darting towards the living room.
"Why? You don't want me being here or something?" you joke yet it rings true by the way he struggles to form an answer. Obviously he wants privacy this time. "Fine," you say and get up from your seat. "No more than forty minutes you hear? I'll lay down in the bedroom and nap or something."
"Mhm yeah," he replies and sits in one of the chairs with his earphones already over his ears. He looks cute actually...adorable even. You snap a quick photo and slip into the bedroom.
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Well, you caved and let your fiance' work on his music for another forty minutes after the original forty minutes was over. So here you are, star-fished in your king-sized bed and jammies, waiting for Yoongi to be ready for your movie.
But wait a damn minute.
Just who are you __? You and Yoongi had a deal that he'd only be allowed a certain amount of time to work on his music and he pushed that limit with that stupidly handsome good looks of his. Plus he didn't even let you stay with him. Just tossed you to the curb. Isn't that a little sneaky of him?
Okay so maybe you're stretching it a little but you won't lie–you want our finace's attention back! And what better way to do it than to use your feminine prowess. It's sooner than you'd planned to use it but you have a sexy white lingerie set that you buried at the bottom of your suitcase. It's a lacy corset with matching panties you got only a week ago so he's not seen it yet.
You leap out of bed and start tossing your clothes off one by one–a giddy feeling settling in your gut. You swear to god if he even thinks about telling you to go back into the bedroom you will get on your knees and suck his dick.
Alright, maybe you're getting a little too wound up so to calm yourself down you go in the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face. After that, you dig in your bag until your fingers graze across something soft and lacy.
"Oh Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi," you hum to yourself in a sing-songy voice. "Two can play this game."
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He doesn't notice your presence when you creak the bedroom door open. Your rental is all one level with the bedroom facing the dining room where your fiance' concentrates on his laptop.
You quickly body-check yourself one last time before strutting toward him. When you get close enough, you set your hands on the table and stare at him until he blinks his eyes up at you.
"__!" He tosses his earphones off his head when he sees a sliver of your cleavage above his laptop screen. "What are you doing dressed like that right now?" You'd tell him to look you in the eye when he talks to you but you enjoy his shocked expression too much–it's a mix between being caught off guard and getting extremely turned on.
"I wanted to get your opinion on this little number I bought a few weeks ago. I think it's pretty with the lace detailing throughout. And it fits really well too which is a rarity for me. Don't you think?"
Yoongi swallows hard and watches you stand straight to graze your hands down your sides. They move slowly, tracing every line and curve on your body. And he must admit this set you have on is accentuating you in the finest way possible.
"Yes, I think it's very nice __." He shifts his attention back to his laptop screen. "Is that...all?" he dares to ask.
"No," you shake your head, struggling to keep yourself controlled and seductive. Like how they show it in movies–seemingly effortless than in real life. You round the dining table until you're directly behind him. You place your hands on his muscular shoulders and start massaging them. "I'd like to know what you like about it Mr. Min."
Yoongi groans at the use of his surname and closes his eyes, basking in the feeling of your hands digging into his shoulder blades. "It's sexy yet elegant at the same time. Makes your body look like heaven with the way the fabric clings to your form. And the corset pushes up your breasts into two perfect globes whereas the panties accentuate your inner thighs, making it look like a sin that most can only dream of touching."
"Look at you becoming an expert in ladies' undergarments. Picking a few things up from Jimin huh? What else do you like about it?" You bring your lips to his smooth neck and graze your teeth ever so gently over the delicate skin. It's only a tease, barely touching, but you feel your finace' flinch at the action.
"Fuck–if you want me to go absolutely feral keep doing what you're doing." If it's meant to be a threat you're unscathed.
"Wanna see it Yoongi." You lick the side of his neck. "That's all I've been wanting this whole time. For you to let loose a little with me. But here you are with your computer for nearly two hours when you can be fucking me instead."
"Shit stop, " Yoongi orders stills one of your hands with his. "What are you doing __?" His voice is shaky yet trying so hard to remain firm.
"Isn't it obvious?" You move your body to one side of him to easily look him in the eye. Then you put a hand on the top of his laptop before closing it shut. Yoongi jolts forward when you do this but you grab his face with both hands and bring him into a kiss before he can sound a word.
You kiss him roughly, moving your lips fast against his. And what do you know, he opens his mouth just enough to let you slip your tongue inside. A hot sensation settles in your core upon realizing that you're taking the lead tonight. When it comes to you and Yoongi's sex life, it was never one of you who takes control. That was a shared venture ever since your first time together.
Yoongi lets out a couple of muffled groans when you move one of your hands to palm his bulge under the table. It's not fully hard yet but it will be soon. You then fiddle with the zipper of his jeans to which he stops with a free hand immediately.
You smirk when he pushes his chair back, to stand up. Yoongi then picks you up in sturdy arms, bridal style, and walks you both towards the bedroom.
"Not thinking about work now hm?" You tease and nibble at his neck. You're on the bed within moments, not so elegantly at that. "Yoon—" you start as he starts ripping his shirts off his body. He throws them on the ground before working on his jeans.
Your eyes wander across his smooth, tanned chest as you wait for him to say something. Starting at his collarbone where a thin silver chain hangs loosely around his neck and all the way down to his navel. You didn't know he was wearing a chain under his shirt until now.
"Yoongi?" You shift uncomfortably on the bed as you watch him push his jeans and underwear down his legs, breath hitching at the sight of his hardened length. But not a word comes out and it's making you crazy. When Yoongi chooses to give you the silent treatment in settings like these it typically means he's incredibly turned on.
He looks at you then at the ground between his feet.
You know what he's asking for.
And like his peachy sweetheart you stay put, biting down a smirk that he'd like to wipe off your face.
Yoongi cocks his head to the side and wets his lips at you. A long, impatient sigh leaves his lips. And when he grips his length in his hand you bolt off the bed and fall on your knees in front of him.
"Don't want to watch me get myself off do you?" He sneers and you reach to bat his hand off his length. You then spit in your palms and wrap your hands around the base of his cock. "Shit," he curses when you begin pumping him slowly.
"Let me do it," you say. You absolutely hate when he tries getting himself off in front of you. After all, that's your job, is it not? Eager to please you continue gliding your hands up and down his hardened member. You lean forward to lick the mushroom tip, just enough to have him shuddering.
"Fuck, put your mouth on me, baby. Show me how good you can suck." It's a plea for relief and you are happy to oblige. So with your hands still gripped firmly around his length you wrap your lips over the head of his cock. You let your tongue roll over the slit then underneath where all men are guaranteed to go weak on their knees. You then hollow out your cheeks and take him further until you can't anymore.
"Oh fuck me," he swears, immersed in the feeling of your mouth and hands working on him simultaneously. Your fiance' is pretty big so your hands needs to make up for where your mouth can't.
"Mph!" You moan a little when he thrusts into your mouth unexpectedly. He makes sure to get easy first, light gentle thrusts that make your panties stickier with arousal.
Yoongi watches as your cheeks get more hallowed out, eyes watering as his cock disappears between your lips. His own eyes are struggling to stay open as he wants to toss his head back in pleasure yet the temptation to see you taking him so well wins out in the end. "This feels so good baby. No one sucks cock like you can, goddamn it."
The thrusting gets rougher and faster with each push and pull. Your fiance' is evidently getting close to his release and you blink back any tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. You love seeing him like this—letting go of all inhibitions.
"Yoon!" You yelp when he suddenly pulls himself out of your mouth and hands. You're sure he was seconds from releasing on your tongue. Yoongi chuckles at your half-offended face. He gets down on his knees himself and pulls you into a passionate kiss with a hand behind your back.
This time it's his tongue in your mouth, licking as many places as he can. His hands trace up and down the lacy fabric of your lingerie at the same time.
"I love this on you," he says when he finally breaks from your lips. "I'd like to see you in it more often if I can." He then tugs at the laced-up ribbon on the back that's holding it together until it's loose enough to take off your body.
"God you're so gorgeous," he praises and tosses the corset on the ground beside you both. Yoongi cups both your bare breasts and circles his thumbs over the hardening peaks.
"Yoon," you moan as his lips find their way to the side of your neck. He leaves open-mouth kisses from the sweet spot behind your ear and down to your shoulder. "That feels so–shit I don't even have words."
" Good," he hums and lowers his head to your breasts and mouths at one gently. He's careful to lick the nub and suck it firmly. While he does this his fingers play with the hem of your lace panties. When you feel them slip underneath the thin string band you raise your knees for him to slowly push the material over your ass and down your legs.
Yoongi lets your breasts go to allow you to sit back down and kick the panties off your legs. You go back in for another kiss once they're off but he stops you by gripping your jaw with a firm hand.
"Uh not so fast," he says. "I want you on your hands and knees slut."
You're stomach flips from the degrading name. It's not something you and him do often but the coolness in his voice tells you he isn't taking no for an answer. And to be quite honest, you're a little turned on by the change.
"You want to fuck me here on this carpeted floor?" You ask once your ass is propped in front of him. You just know he's staring at it. Your fingers claw the ground as you wait for his response.
"You're still on birth control right?" He falls to his knees behind you and guides the tip of his cock over your folds teasingly.
"Y-yes," you say. The feeling on his head rubbing against you already has your core twisting in pleasure.
"Then we'll do it here. Your cunt is already dripping with your cum. Got my dick wet already." He brings a finger up to trace up your folds and you clench at the subtle touch.
"No more teasing Yoon," you beg. "Need you to fuck me."
He chuckles lowly and eases his finger in you, pushing until it sinks all the way in. "You're forgetting something..." he then moves forward to graze his lips near your ear. "Right now I own your orgasms which means I can easily edge you with my fingers all night and not give you any kind of release. So if I were you I'd try asking again, nicer."
You bite your lip and maul over his icy words. As you do Yoongi curls his finger to stimulate your G-spot. The moan that comes out of you in response has him groaning into your ear. "Please—," you say in a near whisper. "Fuck me Yoongi."
"What was that? I couldn't hear you." He knows it drives you mad to do this; begging for his cock with such desperation. Still, he likes making you do it once in a while and this happens to be one of those times. Keeps you humble, he thinks.
"Please fuck me Yoongi," your repeat louder. "I can't wait any longer, please."
Yoongi gives you a quick peck on your jaw in satisfaction and sits back up on his knees. He removes his finger from your cunt and positions his length at your entrance. Both hands come out to firmly grip the sides of your hips as he pushes him in, all at once.
"Fuck—" You moan when he bottoms out. Everything inside you screams with you in arousal. Yoongi gives you a moment to adjust to the size; he knows how big he is, and then he pulls himself all the way out to slam back into you. Your body jolts forward with the push, hands gripping as much of the carpet as they can. "Yoongi!" You moan and he clamps down on your hips harder.
"Screaming so soon baby? We're just getting started fuck," he rasps and thrusts into you again, harder than the last. It doesn't take long before he gets into a steady rhythm and your moaning over and over again. "This what you like? Interrupting my work to get fucked on your hands and knees?"
"You were taking so-fuck-long. Had to do something to get you to pay attention to me again." You can hear the chain around his neck jangling louder as he fucks into you. And if you could, you'd peer over your shoulder to take in the sight but he's snapping his hips so fast and hard in you that your only option is to stare in front of you at the blank wall or down at your hands.
"My attention? You thought I wasn't paying attention to you—fucking hell this pussy is so wet and tight it's making me even harder." He picks up his pace, thrusting into you with determination and pure lust. Each time his cock sinks into your pussy he feels a spark of electric pleasure surge through him, going straight to his cock. "I promise, you don't have to worry about that anymore. Do you wanna know what I was working on? I'll tell you if you want to know."
"I thought that was classified and I'd exploit your company if you told me." You mimic his voice from earlier.
Yoongi gives your butt a slap instantly and you moan at the contact. "Don't be a smart ass when I'm balls deep in you. Now as I was saying, do you want to know what I was working on?"
"A new song? Oh shit, right there!" Your eyes roll up when all the thrusting starts making your walls clench, nearing your high. "Fuck, fuck Yoongi, harder, please! So close."
"We're gonna need to go a second time if you're coming this fast baby," Yoongi says, beating into your pussy. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes off the four walls of the bedroom. "Want this cock Mrs. Min? Want it to make you come all over me?"
"Yes, yes I do Yoongi. Make me come with your big cock. Fuck!" You pant as he continues to move inside you. "But you did it again Yoon. Calling me Mrs."
"Just-fuck-go with it!"
"Oh god I'm gonna come. Any time now," you whine, the cord inside you so, so close to breaking. Yoongi gives you a few more full thrusts and with that, you have your first orgasm.
"You soaked me baby," he groans. "Fuck." He pulls himself out of you to your surprise and you whip your head around your shoulder.
"You didn't come," you say.
"I know, but as hot as your ass is I want to see the face of the woman I'm going to be marrying when I come. So how about rolling on your back for me while I'm still hard?"
"Okay," you nearly grin with sheer happiness when you hear how sentimental your finance' sounds. Yoongi can be a tough man but his he's got a heart of pure gold.
"I love you," you say before he wraps your legs around his waist and puts himself back into you.
"I love you too." Yoongi puts himself back into you and starts chasing his release with so much passion that it stirs another spark of arousal inside you. "Oh my god baby, feels so good. And your eyes are so beautiful, lips perfect for kissing, and wanna hold you like this forever. I love it when you cling onto my arm when we're out in public too and when you fall asleep on my chest when it's just us. Fuck, fuck gonna come soon."
Your mouth gapes open at how much is flooding from his lips right now. The combination of his length working you up to a second orgasm and his words making you on the verge of tears is too much to handle. "Come in me Yoon, I love you. Only you."
He finally releases at your word and you come for the second time that night. Yoongi gently places your legs on the ground and pulls himself out of you. "Are you okay?" He asks. "We should've done this on the bed. I'm sorry, I got carried away and wasn't thinking—"
"I liked it," you reassure. "Do you...uh do you want to take a bath now?" Yoongi smiles and nods.
"I'll run the water in a few minutes."
"No I can do it," you move to get up but he stops you with a hand on your arm.
"I'll do it baby. Stay with me a moment longer." You lay back down as he crawls next to you on his back.
.
"Uhm Yoon," you ask, leaning your head back on his chest. You're both in the tub now with the hot water soothing your muscles. "Did You mean everything you said a few minutes ago? All the stuff about my eyes and...stuff."
Yoongi hears the faintest insecurity in your voice and wraps his arms around your waist from under the water. "I meant every word of it. And you want to know something?"
"What?"
"We never got to finish this thought earlier. But the reason I've been so preoccupied with my music lately is because I've been trying to make a song to surprise you with at our wedding. I've been struggling to find the right beats and lyrics because, well it's you. And anything I've come up with isn't doing the trick." He pauses and you're lost for words. You had no idea his "new song" was for you the whole time. "I'm sorry I insisted I bring my equipment this weekend," he says.
"I don't even know what to say Yoongi. You wrote a song for our wedding. I feel so dumb for being mad about it." You wipe a few tears from your eyes, just small ones that manages to fall from your eyes.
"Hey, don't cry baby," he coos. "And don't call yourself dumb. You didn't know and I was more preoccupied than I should have been about it. It's not finished though since you know, we had sex in the middle of it all."
"I—I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? I love having sex with you. In fact, if you wanted to have sex in this tub right now you wouldn't hear me complaining at all."
"Yoongi-"
"I'm serious __ so if this is you getting shy then there's only one way to cure it. I'll start listing everything I enjoy about being with you. Let's start with when I sink my fingers into your wet pussy. Your moans are so pretty, begging for me to add an—"
"Ah stop, stop stop stop!" It shouldn't embarrass you but it does. Yoongi laughs at your change of character and kisses the side of your head.
"I'm just saying you don't have to apologize for anything alright? I'm the one that should be doing that."
"No, I understand why you brought it with you. But from now on can you try leaving it at home more? At least when we go on our honeymoon?"
"I promise you I will not bring it on our honeymoon. That is a line I will not cross."
"You better not," you say, closing your eyes. "I'll really not have it with you then."
"I expect nothing less as my wife. I know we've said it a hundred times already but I do love you __. More than anything. Even my music."
You tell him that you love him too, complete calmness showering over you. To the happy couple, you hum to yourself.
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a/n: Hoping you enjoyed as much as I did writing this. TY for reading and LMK your thoughts 💞
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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jiminrings · 20 days
Text
fail-safe (2)
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pairing: yoongi x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.
alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]
[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]
notes: i am So sorry for this .
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist
FIVE YEARS LATER
The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.
Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.
Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.
Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.
“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.
He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.
It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.
He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.
Neither could you.
Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.
Yoongi’s home.
Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.
Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.
.
.
.
Enduring is different than working.
You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.
You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.
There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.
Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.
In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.
The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.
It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.
Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.
Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.
Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.
“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”
“Yeah. Just us.”
Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.
Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.
In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.
In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.
Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.
He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.
His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.
Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.
The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.
In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.
“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.
“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”
“I’m not immature, you asshole!”
“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”
“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”
“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”
In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.
You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.
When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.
You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.
“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”
“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”
.
.
.
You’re numb if that’s the word for it.
Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.
Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.
Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.
You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.
Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.
“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.
Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.
“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.
He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.
“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.
Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.
You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.
To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.
The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.
You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.
Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.
“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.
“No, Joon. You give it.”
“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.
“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.
“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”
You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.
Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.
Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.
“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.
Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.
“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.
“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.
“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”
The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”
“This is not about the bug spray!”
“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”
Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.
“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”
You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.
“Don’t call me that.”
( ♡ )
Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.
He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.
You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.
You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.
Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.
It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.
“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.
“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.
“There. Just how you like them.”
There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.
Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.
( ♡ )
If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.
You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.
Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.
You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.
You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.
You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.
You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.
“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.
Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.
Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.
“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.
“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”
“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”
“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.
Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”
Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.
“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”
“You can stop telling me these things now.”
Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.
“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”
( ♡ )
Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.
You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.
For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.
He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.
Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.
You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.
“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”
You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.
Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.
Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.
“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”
“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.
“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.
“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.
“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.
Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”
A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.
“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.
“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.
The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.
“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.
Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.
“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.
(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)
You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.
In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.
You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.
“Okay.”
Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.
( ♡ )
A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.
You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.
When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.
And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.
Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.
If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.
The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.
“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.
You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.
“Abibas.”
Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.
“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”
Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.
Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.
The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.
“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.
“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.
“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”
You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.
“I never said that!”
You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.
“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.
“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.
Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.
“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.
“And you know, play for Korea.”
“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.
( ♡ )
On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.
The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.
You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.
“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.
You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”
“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”
“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”
“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.
“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.
“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”
“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.
Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”
Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.
Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.
You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.
In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.
“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.
Yoongi only hums.
“I know.”
( ♡ )
You’re falling back into your old routine.
Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.
Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.
It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.
You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.
Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.
“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.
“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.
You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.
“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.
“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.
“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.
It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.
Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.
Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.
Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.
571 notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 4 days
Text
STEAM | myg ft. jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x f. reader (feat. jungkook)
genre: smut
word count: 9.2k
summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.
playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam
warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names
note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3
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The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.
He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.
You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.
And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.
The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.
But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.
It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.
Showers with him are something else.
Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.
That has become your new version of hot long showers.
And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.
You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.
That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.
You feel him everywhere.
You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.
Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 
That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 
The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.
It’s a part of the solo girl's night.
A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.
You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—
A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.
You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.
He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 
Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.
Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 
His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 
Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 
He is not, in fact, on his way home. 
It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 
You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 
Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 
He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 
The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 
He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 
Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 
Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 
Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 
A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 
It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 
You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 
“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 
Naked. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 
And with that, he hangs up. 
The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 
You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 
His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 
Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 
Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 
The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 
Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 
What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 
You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 
That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.
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Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 
By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.
You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 
The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 
The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 
Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 
The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 
“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”
Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 
Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 
“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 
Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 
You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 
This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—
“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 
It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 
Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 
A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 
With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”
It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.
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You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 
And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 
He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 
So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 
Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 
Your leg jitters harder. 
You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 
“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 
He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 
You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—
Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 
“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 
You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 
You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 
“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 
And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 
“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 
You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 
Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”
You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 
Your arousal returns at full speed.
“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 
You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 
“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 
He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 
You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 
Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 
A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 
“Can I feel how wet you are?” 
A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 
You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 
“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 
He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 
“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 
You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 
He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”
You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 
Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 
The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 
He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 
Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 
A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 
You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—
You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 
“Spank my pussy again, please.” 
Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 
“Apologize first.” 
“You didn’t tell me how.” 
He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—
“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 
Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 
You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 
“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”
You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.
“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 
“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 
Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 
You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 
When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 
Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 
You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—
“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 
There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 
Such a stark, sudden change. 
You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.
Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.
Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?
You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.
You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.
Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 
“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 
The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 
“Keep your legs where they belong.” 
“No.”
A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 
“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 
You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 
“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.
“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 
A question for a question. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 
Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 
The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 
There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.
“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 
Truthfulness, at last.
Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 
You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 
You fight against it. 
Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 
And you decide to repeat history. 
You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 
The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 
“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 
You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 
And then, you collect your essence again. 
This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 
“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 
Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 
He parts his lips for you. 
And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 
You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 
His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 
“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 
A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 
But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 
And then—then he manhandles you. 
Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 
He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 
Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 
“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 
You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 
Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 
“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 
So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 
Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 
You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 
“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 
Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 
“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 
You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 
“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 
A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 
“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 
Yoongi has had enough. 
He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 
Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 
You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 
He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 
You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 
“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 
He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 
“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”
Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 
He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 
“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 
You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 
He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 
Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—
Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 
You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 
“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 
You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 
It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 
“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 
You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 
“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 
With that, he hangs up. 
You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 
Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 
You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 
“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 
You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 
Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 
You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 
“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 
He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—
Yoongi loses his mind. 
And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 
“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 
He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 
But you don’t let him take charge. 
“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 
Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 
His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 
You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 
“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 
You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 
“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.
“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 
Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 
It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 
It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 
It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 
And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.
And it’s you who checks up on him. 
“You sure you’re okay with this?” 
You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 
He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 
“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 
You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 
“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 
You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 
“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 
“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 
“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 
Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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taintedjeon · 7 months
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‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬;
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✞ pairing: alternative!yoongi x reader (afab) ✞ type: drabbles ✞ genre: filthy smut ✞ status: new&ongoing
disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.
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➷.𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦
➷.𝐟𝐮����𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐠 𝐨𝐧 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!
➷.𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!
… + 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.
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© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.
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bts-0t-7 · 11 days
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BTS | MYG | FIC RECS
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This list is probably one of the longer ones cause sheesh... I'm a sucker for cats 😭 I hope you'll enjoy the fics as much as I have and don't forget to tell the authors how much you've liked their work!!
Have some spices 😌...
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Three Tangerines, @kithtaehyung (smut, brother's best friend, implied age gap au)
Illicit Favours, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, tiny angst, smut, non idol au. Friends to Lovers)
Oh, Darling!, @yoongiofmine (Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au)
Predator, @liveyun (gangster au, smut)
Apricity, @liveyun (arranged marriage au, strangers to lovers)
Petals, @yoonia (parenthood au, fluff)
The devil wears Valentino, @orchidyoonkook (One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut, Fluff)
Sugar, @zehakoo (strangers to lovers, neighbours au, fluff, smut)
Peaches in bed, @borathae (Smut, married life!AU, domestic!AU)
Yoongi's Lullaby, @jiminrings (unrequited love friends to lovers soulmate au)
Snow Blanket, @yoonieper (friends to lovers, fluff, smut)
A Wager of Lords and Love, @hisunshiine (regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst)
By The Time I've Figured Out What It's Worth, @ugh-yoongi (est. relationship, marriage au, angst, smut, fluff)
Bad Things, @yoonia (Brothel!au, Street Fighter!Yoongi, Escort!reader)
Close Call, @xjoonchildx (smut, mafia AU)
The Little Things, @kth1 (Smut, 21+, Slice of Life, One Shot)
Sweet Morning, @7ndipity (slightly suggestive, implied smut, implied drinking, swearing)
Shy, @7ndipity (smut, unprotected sex, soft dom-ish Yoongi)
Hello Soulmate, @bluemari23 (soulmate au, soulmarks, fluff)
Celestial Ruin, @remedyx (Fantasy, Angst, Smut, Corruption)
Carnal Desires, @explicit-tae (smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, grinding, finger sucking)
Moonlit Throne, @hobidreams (smut, angst, fluff)
Desolate, @angelicyoongie (angst, fluff, eventual smut)
The Perks of Being a Househusband, @sunnebeam (marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi in his stay-at-home hubs era)
Give It To Me, @ki-yomii (smut, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), praise kink, dom!yoongi, established relationship, pet names)
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