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#yoongi x you
jiminrings · 24 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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ki-yomii · 2 days
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baby, don't go | myg
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➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 4.8k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.
Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.
Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.
Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.
Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."
Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.
Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.
In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.
"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."
Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.
"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"
You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"
"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."
The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.
Not yet.
It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.
"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."
LIAR.
In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.
Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.
At least not until morning.
Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?
Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.
The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.
You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.
Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."
Panic grabs you by the throat.
This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.
Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.
How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...
You thought you were going to marry him.
The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.
"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."
The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.
"It's just been one of those days."
Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.
What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.
Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.
Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.
“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”
Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.
Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.
Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest
“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”
You hate that you stutter over his name.
And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.
She’s always hated him.
Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.
God, why does she have to be right?
You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.
You only just found out.
Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.
She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”
Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.
“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”
The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.
And it helps for a time, truly.
But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.
Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.
“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”
You hum, worlds away.
“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”
Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.
Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”
“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”
Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.
Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.
The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.
And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.
Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.
Shit.
You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.
“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”
Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.
“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”
You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”
“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”
She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”
You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.
How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?
He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.
You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.
“Knock it off, I’m serious.”
“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”
You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.
“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”
You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”
Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.
Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.
Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.
“So-o, what are you waiting for?”
“Sorry?”
She nods towards Yoongi subtly.
He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”
“Oh my god!”
Kae-In shrugs. “What.”
“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”
A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.
“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”
A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.
As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.
All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.
To feel like someone’s first and only choice.
You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.
They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.
Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.
It’s a terrible idea.
But maybe…
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.
Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.
Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.
It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.
Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.
Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.
Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.
His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.
It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.
Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess. 
Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.
You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.
It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.
Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.
And that?
So not good.
Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.
There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.
“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”
You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.
Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.
Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.
You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.
When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.
He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.
Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.
It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.
No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.
It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.
Of course, it has to be him.
Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”
Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.
“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”
As you pass by, he catches your arm.
Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.
His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.
All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.
"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.
A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.
Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.
Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”
His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.
Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.
“I haven’t said hello yet.”
Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.
Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.
His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.
Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.
“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”
He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.
The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.
“Oh?”
You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.
You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.
Always has.
“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”
You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.
Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.
His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.
You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.
Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.
He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.
His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.
“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.
How is this my life, you think, dazed.
His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”
After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.
With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.
For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.
He holds you down.
His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.
You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.
A sweet ache settles low and deep.
“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”
His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.
The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.
Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.
Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.
“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”
“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”
“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”
A smile, all teeth.
“Isn’t that right, baby?”
You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.
Two can play that game.
“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.
His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”
You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.
”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.
Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.
Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.
Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.
Shit, that’s so unfair.
Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?
Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.
Big mistake.
Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.
Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.
Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.
Sex with him was always stupidly good.
All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.
Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.
He’s ruined you.
His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.
Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”
Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.
“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”
Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.
In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.
All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.
Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.
His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.
“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”
You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.
You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”
Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.
Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.
His knuckles brush your skin.
Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.
Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.
His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.
You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.
“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.
You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.
He hisses, thrusts off beat.
Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.
“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”
Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.
Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.
“Please, don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.
Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.
Fuck, he’s handsome like this.
It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.
The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.
He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”
It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.
A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.
In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.
He’s a goner.
Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.
Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.
He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”
“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”
In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.
Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”
Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.
“Can you do that for me?”
Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.
“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”
By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.
The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.
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manfuckthisimout · 2 days
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I promise to god if that man looked at me like this?
FOLDED IMMEDIATELY!
Let me take you through my mid for a moment:
Yoongi doesn’t argue.
He simply doesn’t have the energy to waste on something little and petty like that.
Unless it’s something relationship changing, he’s not going to dwell on it. He prefers to squash the little stuff in favor of peace and solitude.
But that doesn’t mean you can talk crazy to him.
“You know what, fuck the dinner! I don’t care anymore, you can starve for all I care!” Yoongi has been coming home late for three days now, often taking his work home with him. You came into his home studio to ask him what he wanted you to make for dinner, but you were only met with short answers. “Like I said babe, make whatever you want. I’m gonna eat it regardless, just lemme finish this.”
Yoongi was knee deep in producing something or another for some artist in the industry. His work was superb, but he often threw himself into it, often neglecting eating or sleeping for hours at a time. You just wanted to sit down and have a nice meal with your boyfriend, is that too much to ask? “I’m asking you because I want to make something you’d eat now, not after I go to bed.” You spat, eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m still gonna eat regardless, what does it matter the time?” Yoongi replies, his voice cool. You can’t see his expression, for his back is turned to you, but you just know that furrow that appears when he’s focused on two things at once is present between his brows.
You storm over beside his desk, forfeiting your position in the doorway a few seconds prior. “I know you eat Yoongi, but it’s timing that matters! You can’t keep neglecting your needs for some stupid beat that will still be here tomorrow!” You holler, your frustration getting the better of you. His eyebrows raised at the mention of his name. You kept going, “Y’know, why is it you keep bringing this shit home anyway? Are you too busy at work doing something else than get this done? Or someone? Am I not enough for you anymore Yoongi? Is that it?” You seethe.
Yoongi’s head whipped up and over to you so fast you hardly saw it happen. His chair was turned around now, parallel to you standing beside his desk? “What did you say? Say it again.” He says, his voice dangerously low. He was looking at you, daring you to make your assumption again. You were taken aback, almost tripping over his chair due to the sheer closeness of him. But stupidly, you did not yield. “Are you sleeping with another girl! Is that why you seemingly never have anytime for me anymore?” You hiss. His brows raise further, pinching at the top of his forehead to make wrinkles in his skin. He looks positively bewildered, speechless by your audacity.
You two stay like what feels like an eternity. Not blinking, hardly breathing. Suddenly Yoongi turns in his chair and unceremoniously closes his laptop. He’s up and out to his chair a moment later, and approaching you. Cornering you onto the couch that sits besides his desk. “You think…I would cheat on you? Over something as petty as dinner?” His voice is still that same tone, and you suddenly feel like prey about to get eaten whole by its predator. You’re fucked. Suddenly your knees are weak and you can feel your heart hammering in your chest. Yoongi’s eyes are slits, his brows still in that same pinch from when he was sitting down.
“I get the taking care of myself part. I get you wanted to do something nice for me. But assuming I’m cheating on you because I took home some work? I don’t know how you could think that,” Yoongi says, cool and collected. He’s cornered you so far that you’ve fell onto the couch, on your back, facing him. He climbs on top of you. Lowers his face inches from yours. “I have everything I need laying out in front of me. Why would I ever step out?” He says softly.
You’re speechless, a flush crept onto your cheeks. You can feel his breath fanning over you. He’s looking deep into your eyes, following your head movements to keep the contact going. “Answer me, hm? Why would I do that?” Yoongi leans down to press fleeting kisses into your neck. “I-I don’t know…” You say, meek and shy with your words. You feel like an idiot for ever thinking it. Here is this man, tired, hungry—still proving to you that he loves you no matter what.
“You don’t know and..?” Yoongi replies. He pulls from your neck, resting his lips onto your forehead. “I was silly for thinking it. I-I know you would never do that to me. I’m sorry honey.” Yoongi pecks your forehead, leaning back to look at you. He smiles. “I forgive you. Just—don’t do that to me again, please? I don’t know if my heart can take it.” You nod. “Can I have a kiss?” You ask, shyly looking into his eyes. “Of course my love.”
Note: I’ve never written anything this long! (At least not about yoongi lol) this was going to be short like the rest of my content, but it turned into this.
I hope you enjoy!
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whytryyy · 2 days
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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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kithtaehyung · 3 months
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minted (m) (teaser) | myg
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title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️
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"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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borathae · 6 months
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"You accidentally start your period in the middle of the night next to your boyfriend, who just so happens to be a vampire with a way too sensitive sense of smell."
Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader 
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut 
Warnings: Hard Dom & very desperate!Yoongi, sub & whiney!Reader, rough sex, she’s a tease, he shows her his truest face, period sex, lotsa period blood, they kiss with her blood on his lips, messy oral (f.receiving), that's the closest you will get to Yoongi drinking her blood, and of course it's nothing but pussy wetting porn, multiple forced orgasms (f.receiving), his demon tongue is making an appearance, squirting, she uses her safeword to get a break and Yoongi gives it to her, then after some bickering and snuggles the fucking continues jsjsj, strength kink, choking (f.receiving), scratching & hair pulling (m.receiving), graphic dirty talk, praise & degradation, they’re both masochists, Yoongi also shows his sadistic side, he calls her slut & brat, but also babygirl & princess, he rails the shit outta her while his face is covered in her blood fjadsf, he has his huge vampire cock out <3, he also talks about pumping her full of his cum, he is so unhinged, I'm telling you this is craziness, this is once again monster fucker smut ehehe, he domdrops but she gives him affection <3, the softest aftercare and both being giggly, this is reason 666 why I want a vampire boyfriend
Wordcount: 5.7k
a/n: This is nothing but pussy madness, I will not apologize. I was in a mood and you guys are gonna bear witness to it. Enjoy this no brain just pussy story 🤪
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You have been slumbering peacefully when a harsh shake wakes you.
“No”, you grumble, getting shaken around again mere seconds later.
“___ wake up”, Yoongi’s voice sound stressed.
With a groan, you let him roll you to your back.
“Too sleepy”, you mumble.
“Fucking hell, open your eyes”, he hisses and groans. 
At that you open your eyes because Yoongi normally never snaps at you like that. You blink a few times. He turned the nightstand lamp on, giving view to his distressed features.
“What’s wrong?” you ask him.
“I think you should go to the bathroom, princess”, he says, licking his lips. 
“Why should I go to the bathroom? You silly kitten, I don’t even have to pee”, you mumble and close your eyes again, settling into the pillow comfortably.
“Go to the bathroom. Please. I can’t bear to be next to you”, Yoongi stresses. 
You open your eyes, studying his distressed features.
“I’m confused. What do you mean? Do I stink?” 
“On the contrary”, he whispers, croaks even, all while his fingers are digging into your shoulder in a desperate massage.
“You’re so silly”, you mumble, closing your eyes again, “why do you want me to leave when I smell nice?”
“Because you temptatious woman started your period, for fuck’s sake and I currently wanna fucking ruin you”, he hisses the words, not out of anger but pure desperation.
You open your eyes, meeting his blown out pupils and ruby irises.
“Hot.”
“No princess, not hot”, he hisses, “fuck, stop thinking everything is hot. This is serious business.”
“Yeah, bloody serious.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth, sending you an annoyed look. You grin. 
“Come on Yoongi, you must admit that joke was good.” 
“No. It was terrible. Fuck”, he groans and rolls out bed, “I’m taking a walk. You’re too much.”
You sit up, trying to ignore the wetness between your legs. 
“Don’t leave please.”
He turns, giving view to his massive fangs and black veins. You rub your soaked thighs together at the view. 
“Please take care of me”, you try. 
“Excuse me?”
“Help me clean up, please.”
“Clean it up yourself. You don’t know what I could do to you.”
“I’m sure it’s fun.”
“It’s not.”
“Please?”
Yoongi sneaks a glance at your middle. There is the smallest spot of red between your legs where you leaked. He gulps. He has been around many of your periods. He smelled the change and felt even more drawn to you during those times, but nothing could have prepared him for tonight. When he got forcefully woken up by you starting your period accidentally and soaking the sheets with the sweetest scent he has ever smelled. His head is pounding and his muscles burn from tensing them oh so much. He is so close to losing his mind, feeling on edge.
“Don’t tempt me. Just clean up.”
“Okay”, you say, removing the blanket from your body. It reveals your soaked legs and pussy to his eyes. 
The intensity of your scent makes him stumble. 
“Fuck”, he barely gets out with all the saliva in his mouth. He throws his hand over his nose, “please close your legs.”
“But it’s so uncomfortable to close my legs”, you whine.
“Stop playing”, he spits, “what do you want from me? Do you want me to break?”
“Maybe?”
“Why?”
“Because I need you”, you part your legs, “need you so bad.”
Yoongi shakes, tenses his body, growls. He is panting heavily, dripping saliva on the floor. 
“Please? I can’t do it myself”, you beg, writhing on the sheets sensually. 
“Urgh!” he lets out in an angry roar and moves.
He is on top of you, pinning you down with a strong grip and bruising your wrists on accident. It knocks the air out of you, but more than anything it makes you moan and arch into him. You writhe, fighting his grip with minimal effort. It results in his long fingers closing around your wrists tighter and his nose scrunching up as he growls in warning.
“That’s better”, you rasp, eyes glued to his dripping fangs.
“You are the worst ever”, he spits, “why do you have to push my buttons so much?”
“It’s fun”, you give him a little smile, parting your lips as you do.
Yoongi looks at it and squeezes your wrists.
“Are you sure? I’m fucking serious, are you sure?” he asks.
“I’m so sure.”
“Snowdrop’s your only hope, fucking say it the second I get too much”, he lulls the words.
“Yeah okay”, you whisper, parting your legs. You feel how that makes new blood leak out of you and on other nights it would have embarrassed you, but not tonight. Not when Yoongi growls at the scent of it and convulses on top of you as he fights his most natural instincts.
“Fuck”, he presses out and then he is gone from you. One second of nothingness, then his hot mouth is latched onto your pussy.
“Ah!” you squeak out, lifting your head in surprise. You writhe, locking eyes with him.
His brows are furrowed, his hair messy and his eyes dark red. He is pinning you down, watching you like a hunter would its prey. You reach down to twist his hair, but Yoongi breaks away from you.
Your redness covers his lower face messily.
“Holy fuck”, he speaks with two voices in his throat, panting like crazy, “holy fuck, that’s how you taste?”
“Yes?” you act shy on purpose, “is it bad?”
“Shut the fuck up, you know exactly that it’s heaven. Holy fuck”, he spits and grips your legs to open them widely. He digs his strong hands into the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend and press into the sheets beside you.
The sudden stretch makes you mewl.
“I’m fucking insane for doing this”, he is talking to himself, “this is fucking insane”, he spits and latches himself back onto your pussy.
“Yoongi god”, you mewl, squirming desperately as your legs try to close in instinct. He is swirling his tongue over your messy entrance, lapping up your blood as demonic growls rumble in his throat. He is holding you with such strength that the contact points where his long fingers meet your thighs start to ache. You don’t want him to let go for even one second, arching into him with your toes curling.
Yoongi doesn’t drink your blood. He said so. The fight you had about it still comes back to haunt you sometimes. You know that he would never drink from you. So to have him growl and moan between your legs while his long tongue cleans you messily is the closest you will get to the ecstasy that is offering your blood to him.
And you can’t handle it. You are still so droopy and disoriented from deep sleep and now you have wet, aggressive warmth lapping at your pussy. You arch your back and twist Yoongi’s hair. You can’t handle how good this makes you feel.
“Holy fuck, slow down”, you moan desperately, hating your legs for shaking against your will.
“Shut up”, Yoongi growls into you, pinning your hips down in warning, “I’m not doing that.”
“Yoongi”, you whimper, squirming in his strong hold fruitlessly. He’s got you pinned. No amount of wiggling will free you now. You have to take what he gives you. Even if it borders too much, “holy shit. Oh god, fuck.” 
Yoongi uses his entire mouth on your pussy. Now bear in mind, he does that on calm days as well. He’s got the lips for it as well. Soft and pouty, just puffy enough to feel you up and so incredibly hungry for you. He sucks and kisses and grinds against your dripping pussy each time he eats you out, but tonight he is manic in the way he does it. He can’t stop sucking with such vigour that it makes your legs twitch and as he does, he growls deeply, murmuring graphic curses each time he comes up for air.
“This is heaven, this is fucking heaven”, he spits, smothering himself with your pussy as he laps at your entrance again. His button nose grinds against your clit that way, forcing a loud mewl out of you. You smell so good, Yoongi wants the scent to coat every single cell in his nose.
You grip his hair with your second hand as well. Yoongi moans because as much as you try to pull him away, you end up pushing him closer. You fucking love it when he’s rough. You can’t lie to him. Not to him. Not when he’s the only fucking person who can make you moan like this. 
��Yoongi please, Yoongi please, Yoongi. Please.”
He knows that you don’t even know what you’re begging for. You just beg when he goes down on you. 
Good. Beg. 
He fucking loves it when you do. He loves how he ruins you, how he turns you dumb and how he makes you his' without even trying. He just has to swirl his tongue just right and you are moaning his name.
Yoongi furrows his brows and pulls your hips onto his face. Your sweet scent is suffocating him. Your pussy smells heavenly on normal days, but this is insane. This is fucking insane. Yoongi feels delirious, fucking the mattress so harshly that he managed to push down his own briefs. The sheets are grinding against his cock and rubs him sore. It hurts, but he can’t stop. The harsh friction is the only thing keeping him sane. At least a little. 
He is very far from being sane right now. He is high on your blood and your pussy. Yoongi wiggles his head and grinds his nose over your clit in sync with his tongue slipping into you. 
“N-not this. It’s too good”, you squeak, trying to close your legs but Yoongi forces them open. 
“Hey”, he spits, “don’t you fucking dare close them. You fucking hear me?”
You stare at his blackened out eyes and the black veins spanning all the way down to his neck. Even the veins on his neck are darkened, pulsing quickly. The view makes you weak, but nothing ruins you as much as the view of his lower face. Your blood is covering him. Red nectar against ivory skin and black veins. Red lips puffy and pulled back enough to reveal his long fangs to you. 
“Yoongi”, you whimper.
“Are we understood?” he spits, pushing your legs apart even more. 
You cry up from the stretch, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back as best as possible. 
“Yes”, you mewl, “yes, yes, I’m- yes.”
“Good girl. Misbehaving isn’t gonna get you anywhere”, he growls and returns to his favourite spot. He pins you against him and slips his tongue back into your pussy. 
“Holy fuck.”
Yoongi agrees with a loud growl. His voice is distorted in pleasure. He abandons one of your hips for the mere purpose of twisting the sheets beside your body. He can’t do it otherwise. This is too much. He is going too far. He knows how wrong it is and yet he can’t stop. 
Your blood is covering every inch of his tongue, mixing with your sweet juices and Yoongi doesn’t know how to act. He sees eating your pussy as his favourite feed. He knows pussy doesn’t actually nourish him, but when he is between your legs and fucks your pussy with his mouth, he gets at least enough satisfaction that he feels sated for a few days. 
But this is different. This is actually feeding him. Your blood gives him nourishment. It coats his throat and runs through his veins. And Yoongi feels so fucking wrong doing it, but he can’t stop. 
He digs for more of your taste, letting his tongue grow in your pussy. It pulsates and throbs as it does. This is the closest you’ll get to feeling a heartbeat from him. His wet, girthy tongue pulsating deep in your pussy as he pumps it into you quickly. This is how alive you make him feel.
“Yoongi”, you moan and sob, “Yoongi, I’m cumming.”
Yoongi doesn’t slow down. Yoongi growls into your pussy like a maniac. Yoongi hate fucks the mattress. Yoongi grinds his nose against your clit. And Yoongi thrusts his pulsating tongue into you until he can’t go any further. 
“Yoongi!” you orgasm instantly. Fuck, he is forcing you so hard, making your entire body shake. You whimper and gasp, pulling his hair desperately. Yoongi cares rather little, moving his head against you while his fucked up tongue is fucking into you as deeply as possible. It feels thick and throbbing inside you, curling oh so deep, you wonder if what he is doing to you is healthy. 
“Yoongi please”, you sob, writhing on the mattress. Your orgasm burns so deep and he doesn’t give you any chance to recover. He fucks and licks and sucks while his strong hand keeps you pinned to him and his other hand rips the sheets. 
It’s not healthy what he does to you. He is aware of how fucking sick it is. He is right at the source, the small spot where your blood leaps out of you. He can’t go any further than that, grinding the flat of his tongue against it quickly but with all the care in the world. He knows that this spot is incredibly sensitive and that one wrong move would end in you hurting instead of shaking. It feels like fire under his tongue. Wet, hot and incredibly soft fire. 
“Yoongi please”, and you continue begging, losing your vision from just how far he pushes you. You know that he is deep. You can feel it. It feels almost like too much and yet like not enough. 
He presses down on an especially sensitive spot, making your body convulse desperately. 
“Yoong- plea- ah!” words aren’t meant to be finished by you. Not when Yoongi forces yet another orgasm out of you. It is short, hotter than fire and so strong you fear you might snap your spine from arching your back so aggressively.
You feel dizzy afterwards. Dizzy, out of breath, close to passing out. And Yoongi isn’t stopping. He fucks his tongue deeper and presses his fingers against your clit to rub her quickly. 
“Oh god, no. Holy fuuuck”, you groaned the last word but ended up wailing his name afterwards. Your legs try to close again, Yoongi pushes them open instantly, punishing the mattress in your stead with an angry thrust. He knows you’re sensitive, but he doesn’t like you closing your legs. 
You shouldn’t flee from him. This is his feeding time and it’s fucking rude to disturb him when he’s getting high so good that he feels dizzy. 
“You demon”, you sob, convulsing on the sheets, “oh god, again. Yoongi, again.”
By now, Yoongi tastes no difference between your orgasm and your normal pussy. He is too delirious to distinguish between those tastes. Everything just fills him with ecstasy. Every single droplet he forces out of you and which coats his throbbing tongue, tastes like pure, concentrated heaven. 
But you can distinguish between it. Oh how you can distinguish between it. You can’t breathe and your nerves are so sensitive that your legs ache. You know that you already squirted and your tummy is cramping so hard that it hurts. This is so torturous and you can’t handle another orgasm.
“Snowdrop please”, you beg. 
Yoongi shoots up with his tongue normal and his eyes worried. They are dark brown and glassy. His face is sweaty and covered in your blood. The veins disappeared from his cheeks. His state shows you that even if he seemed so out of control, he never was. The master of perfect control rules over his body’s most instinctive nature so well that not even your orgasming, bloodied pussy could break him. 
“My princess”, he croaks because eating your pussy like that ruined his voice, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” he asks, wrapping you up in his strong arms. He litters your burning cheeks with tender kisses, rocking you from side to side, “did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”
“I’m fine, just…” you assure him, breathing heavily, “...you were a lot.”
“I’m sorry, holy fuck”, Yoongi cradles you against his chest, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, “I feel awful. Why did I do that? I’m so sorry you had to see this, I’ll never show it again.”
“No, you were awesome. It’s just a lot when you fucker don’t even let me breathe between orgasms. Like goddamn, I’m fighting for my life here”, you say, nudging him with the tip of your nose. 
Yoongi can’t help but crack up, chuckling quietly. He squeezes you, letting out a terribly fragile whimper of relief.
“So you’re…not disgusted?” he asks quietly.  
“Yoongi, I told you…” you lift your head, grinning up at him, “I’m the biggest monster fucker out there.”
His brows shoot up, “are you calling me a monster?”
“Duh? You were definitely one right now. Like look”, you show him your shaking knees, “I’m still shaking.”
He lowers his eyes shyly, “I’m not a monster”, he murmurs so cutely you feel the need to pin him down and smother him in kisses.
“You’re right, you’re my Yoongi Boongie”, you say, giggling happily as you bite into his soft cheek, “my sweetie, mwuah.”
“Your kisses are wet”, he murmurs, melting under you like the happiest sugardrop. 
“My pussy’s wet too”, you throw back.
He scoffs, “really?” he sounds annoyed but it’s because he is flustered.  
“Yeah. Wanna feel it?” 
“But you said it was too much.”
“I’m good again, just want more of you.” 
“I don’t know.”
You wrap your fingers around his cock lowering yourself to it so you can grind him right against you. You press him close with the flat of your palm against his cock, hugging his sensitive shaft with your soaked lips. 
“Shit, princess”, he gasps, looking down at where you’re grinding against him. You are covered in blood, soiling his cock with it as well. The view makes his cock throb and he hates that it does. He shouldn’t be so weak for this view. He should be above this, he should have stopped caring about shit like this. And yet here he is with a throbbing cock and his chest heaving up and down quickly. 
Yoongi growls and grips your hips, squeezing them tightly. You moan at the touch, pressing your dirtied pussy closer. Right where it feels the best for him. It forces him to growl and scrunch his nose up.
“It feels so good, I’m so wet.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“Says the Glutton.”
He frowns, but stops when you grind his frenulum right against your clit, “fuck, princess. Fuck.”
You moan in a high pitched voice, giving him big puppy eyes. 
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“So sure. You?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop being a pussy and fuck my pussy.”
“You’re so dangerous”, Yoongi growls, sitting up smoothly. He grips your hips roughly, tugging you closer. Like this you would just have to tilt your head and you could be kissing, “you’re gonna get yourself hurt one day, princess.”
“I’m a masochist. I’m into it”, you only partially joke, painting amusement onto his features. 
“Fucking sink down on me before I have to force you”, he rasps. 
“Kiss me”, you order.
Yoongi obeys instantly, kissing you deeply. You sink down with a moan, forcing his chest to rumble in a deep groan of total bliss. 
“Yes princess, yes”, he encourages you, “shit, you’re so tight. You sure you’re good?”
“Yeah, good”, you promise, shutting him up by tongue kissing him as needily as possible. He tastes like you. Metallic. You shouldn’t like it that much, but you fucking do. You lick into his mouth, twisting his hair.
Yoongi reciprocates it gladly, groaning and sighing deliciously as you begin bouncing on his cock. A growl rumbles in his chest, the kiss breaks because you needed to gasp from the sensation.
“You like that?” he lulls.
“Yes, I ngng”, you mewl, squeezing your eyes shut.
“So tight, your pussy’s so tight”, he chants with his eyes closed in bliss. He is guiding the movements of your hips, tugging and pushing them in a fast, rough rhythm. You should know who fucks you that good, who controls the scene. You may be on top, but Yoongi is the one to conduct every single movement, every single sigh and moan and groan.
“Your cock’s so big, I’m so stuffed”, you tell him, swallowing his needy moan by kissing him again. 
You just have to. Breathing may be hard and your hips may stutter because of it, but kissing him is all you need. His lips are addicting, his touch electrifying. His hands run to your lower back, painting goosebumps onto your skin with their touch. His stomach is grinding against your clit just enough that it feels like paradise after the amazing thing he did with his tongue. You’re so sensitive, writhing on top of him at the mere thought of it.
“Oh god”, you break the kiss to whimper, twisting his messy hair desperately. Your hips stutter, your legs shake, “Yoongi, it’s-”
“-difficult. I know”, he finishes your sentence, “I fucking ruined you, huh?” he taunts and grips you under your ass to hold you and thrust into you quickly. This is an easy task for such a monster like him and he is more than will to show you, “tell me how I ruined you. Tell me who tongue fucked your tasty, little pussy so good that you can’t walk now. Fucking tell me.”
“You”, you are sobbing into his neck, hugging him tightly. You have no idea why you decided to ride him because your body is still ruined and you are so weak that Yoongi has to actually hold you, but holy shit whatever demon possessed you, you are grateful for them. This is paradise. Hot, rough paradise, but paradise nonetheless. 
“Say my fucking name.”
“Yoongi.”
“That’s it. Fucking say it again.”
“Yoongi!”
“Yes, fuck”, Yoongi growls and changes positions. He pins you down into the sheets, hovering over you with his eyes pitch black again. Your legs are around his waist, bouncing weakly on his back as he drills his cock into you. Your hands open and close on the sheets, having no home to call theirs. 
Yoongi takes them and puts them around his neck, pinning you down with just one look.
“Hold onto me and don’t fucking let go”, he orders.
You whimper, spilling tears. You close your fingers around the back of his neck to the point where your nails dig into his skin. 
Sharp pain shoots through his body. He growls and rewards you with even harsher thrusts. 
“Yes babygirl, hurt me. Fucking make me bleed. Hear me?” he orders, nodding his head, “do you hear me?”
You nod your head with him, whimpering weakly.
“Yeah that’s right. Holy fuck”, he reveals his fangs in a snarl, “I wanna punish you so fucking bad. Look at what you’re doing to me. You disobedient, addictive brat”, he spits and shows you his anger with harsh thrusts and his right hand closing around your throat. 
He cuts off most blood flow to your brain, stealing your breath not from contact to your wind pipe but from the mere sensation of having your clarity under the tips of his long fingers. 
You begin squeaking, making sure of your promise of making him bleed by scratching down the nape of his neck.
Yoongi closes his fingers further, snarling deeply. You gasp and arch your back, feeling your eyes roll back in ecstasy. You are climaxing again. Yoongi doesn’t give a shit about it, even if you are scratching his back so deeply that parts of his skin gathered under your nail. 
“Now you’re understanding, hm?” his voice is distorted in demonic pleasure, “you think you can open your slutty little legs and tempt me with your pussy and get away with it? You’re fucking playing with fire, princess and you know that.”
“Yoon- I-”
“Oh, I’m aware. You think I can’t feel your tight, little cunt throbbing around my cock?” he growls, fucking into you as far as his huge vampire cock allows him to, “but I don’t give a shit. You’re gonna keep cumming for me until I say that you’re done. Understood?”
You sob, writhing uncontrollably.
“Understood?” Yoongi stresses, giving your head a little shake to get you back to him.
Your eyes open and spill hot tears. Your hands close around his strong underarms and squeeze weakly. 
“Yes”, you croak. 
“That’s it. This is how I want you behaving. Stupid, little girl thinking you can push my buttons. Fuck, you piss me off”, he spits and lets go of your neck. 
Blood shoots back to your head, forcing you to scream up because it causes the most aggressive and harsh chain reaction, forcing you to orgasm around his huge cock.
“Cum for me. Yes princess. Fucking cum for me, you bratty slut”, he encourages you, straightening up as he talks so he can lift your leg and twist you just enough that he can give it to you from the back. 
You are resting on your tummy halfway, feeling dizzy. Your hips are lifted, your leg is bent around his waist and held by him. Your face is still visible to him as he twists your body into a slightly unnatural position. He knows you can take it. His left hand slips to your clit and begins rubbing circles into her. You sob and kick the air, twisting the sheets as he rearranges your insides.
“You’re so fucking good on that pussy shit”, he moans, staring down at you with his black veins spanning all the way down to his pecs. They cover his arms as well, throbbing each time he pulls your hips back onto his cock. Speaking of cock. The black veins are pulsating all over his girthy shaft as well, but you currently can’t see that.
You can’t see anything other than stars and unnamed colours. But Yoongi can see them. Their colour shines through the thick layer of blood which covers him. It’s so wet and red. It’s covering your inner thighs and ass, turning his lower body into a total mess as well. 
Fuck, Yoongi feels his balls tighten at the view. He slips his hand to your ass and spreads it so he can see your stuffed pussy move around his dirtied cock. The view makes his head spin. He swore to never engage in these fucked up nights again. He spent too many centuries ruining his body with blood, sex and senseless drinking and now here he is, covered in your pretty blood and with his head pounding in pleasure. He is fucked up and the most fucked up part of it all was that he loved it. 
He loves the view, loves the feeling of your hot, wet pussy and loves the honest moans he forces out of you. 
“You’ve got me fucking faded for you, princess”, he growls, fucking your clit against the sheets with each harsh thrust. His vision is blurry because of how tight you become around him, “fucking faded…holy fuck, you feel so good.”
“Yoongi, again.”
“I know. Cum for me.”
“Oh god”, you croak and break around him. You can’t even make sounds at this point. The orgasm feels so good, but hurts so much. Your body is fucking ruined. It can’t even shake anymore, laying limp as fire consumes you. Holy fuck it feels so good. 
“Fucking fuck princess, I’m cumming”, Yoongi moans deeply, throwing his head back, “fuck, princess. Take my fucking cum. Ah!”
His cock begins throbbing in your tight pussy, filling you with his cream. His hips move sloppily, his hands can barely hold you because of how weak you got him. 
“Yes ___”, he moans, “take my cum. Shit, you’re mine.” 
“Yoongi”, you whimper, looking up at him under your tears. He looks so good when he orgasms. His body is all sweaty and his hair is soaked in it as well. His pale skin shows flushes of pink, paths of black veins and patches of your burgundy blood. He is so messy and it’s fucking incredible to look at. 
“___, my love”, Yoongi croaks and falls onto his hands. Like this, he is panting above you, looking down at you with his ebony hair framing his sweaty face. Remnants of your blood are still sticking to his cheeks, dissolving into faint red streaks under the sweat. 
Your eyes meet. You are breathless and dizzy. Yoongi is fighting for air as well, feeling aching yearning for you. He makes sure to slip out of you carefully, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t find any, which makes him ache for you all the more.
“My love”, he presses out and picks you up in his arms to pull you into a deep kiss. 
You kiss him back, hooking your arms behind his head. This feels so good to do. He is so gentle and tender, reminding you just how wonderful it is to be loved by him.
“Oh, my love”, Yoongi chokes out, littering your face with kisses, “my love. My love, how are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, so okay”, you whisper, melting in his gentle hands, “I’m dizzy, but okay.”
“That’s so good to hear. Holy fuck, my love. I’m so proud of you. You did so, so well”, Yoongi praises you and cradles you against his chest. You sit down on his lap to make it even more intimate, leaning into him with all your weight. 
Yoongi holds you gladly, rocking your bodies from side to side slowly. He wants to hug you tighter and tighter, yearning for your warmth and the softness of your skin. 
“Good job, oh my love”, he shudders as he exhales, “fuck, I’m anxious.”
“Why?” you gasp, hugging him tighter. You can’t lift your head. It’s impossible. You feel so weak from the amazing sex you just had.
“That you hate me. I was so rough.”
“No, don’t”, you say, pressing his head close with your hand in his hair, “I would have said my safeword again if I didn’t want it. You were amazing.” 
“I can’t do rough”, he confesses and exhales shakily, “fuck, I’m so upset. I’m sorry for being so rough.”
“Yoongi, my love”, you lift your head even if it is hard. You cup his cheeks and make him look into your eyes, “please don’t apologise. You have no reason to feel guilty because I don’t feel bad. I’m not hurting and I fucking loved what you did.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really”, you kiss his forehead, “and if you worry that your true face is disgusting, it’s not. You are so beautiful, my love.”
He lowers his eyes shyly. Takes a deep breath. Exhales. 
“Thank you”, he whispers, “I needed to hear this.”
“Of course. It’s the truth.” 
Yoongi looks up at you. You can watch how his eyes fill with unbreakable and soul-consuming love for you. And then Yoongi picks you up and places you into the sheets to attack your face and neck with kisses. He makes sounds as he does. Like a little kitten eating good food. 
It makes you giggle and squeak because of how good he makes you feel. 
Yoongi lifts his head, giggling with you. You and he look into each other’s eyes. Oh how deeply you are connected.
Yoongi grins, “sorry for messing up your face”, he says, wiping at the bloody kiss marks he left all over it, “you look ruined.”
“You’re covered in blood too”, you say, “it would explain why your kisses had a slight metallic taste to it.”
“Yeah”, he laughs breathily, “fuck. I can’t believe I did that. This was fucking sick.”
“It’s not. You didn’t bite me and I wasn’t in pain at all. Allow yourself that little treat.”
“Little treat?” he widens his eyes, “princess, this wasn’t a little treat. I just drank your blood from your pussy. You think this is a little treat?” he furrows his brows, “I feel faded. This was insanity.” 
You snicker, tracing his pouty lips.
“And you loved it. Be honest.”
He huffs out air, sagging his shoulders in defeat.
“You’re the worst person ever”, he murmurs, “why are you so…so…so”, he cups your face and shakes it gently, “I have rules for myself, rules I’ve been following for millennia. Stop making me break them. You have to stop being so addictive. Do you hear me?”
You laugh, “mhm no”, you say, scrunching your nose up, “you gotta deal with it for eternity.”
“Fuck princess love”, he gets out and drops down on you, snuggling his nose into the crook of your neck, “I wanna be mad at you, but how can I when you’re so cute?”
You giggle, hugging him tightly.
“You’re cute too.”
“Mhm”, he hums and squeezes you, “I didn’t clean you up at all. My bed’s a mess.”
“I know”, you laugh, “you kinda managed to make it stronger too. It’s been leaking out of me ever since you’re lying on me.”
“Sorry, that’s probably my cum too”, he says and puts more of his weight on your tummy.
“Yoongi stop”, you squeak in laughter, “you’re making me leak.”
Yoongi laughs and does it again.
“Stop. It’s so wet and yucky”, you complain, spanking his butt gently.
Yoongi snickers, “sorry”, he says, shifting his weight, “it’s funny to mess with you.”
“Wah so mean”, you mumble.
He chuckles and kisses your cheek, “I’ll run you a hot shower, yeah? It’s the least I can do after ruining you.”
“I’d like that, my love. But only when you’re taking the shower with me.” 
“Yeah, I’d like that.” 
You and Yoongi sleep in your bed after washing up, cuddling and kissing until you both fall asleep. The next morning, Yoongi is gone from bed and you wake up to breakfast waiting for you on a tray on the bedside table, a small basket filled with period products next to it and a note telling you that he was in his wing cleaning the bed and that he can’t stop thinking about last night. 
3K notes · View notes
back2bluesidex · 3 months
Text
One of Your Girls - MYG (18+)
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Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi X Chaebol!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT
Wordcount: 1.2k
Summary: Min Yoongi has been threatening your father. But that's not the problem. The problem is that you wanna get fucked by him.
Warnings: Explicit sex, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, spanking, domish-yoongi, overstimulation, one night stand, mentions of smoking and drinking. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Another smut, because why not.
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” No Eul nudges you with her elbow, reminding you how questionable are the things you are doing right now. 
“Yes. The best idea I have ever come up with.” your pride spills through your voice as you reply without shifting your eyes from him. 
“But girl! He is a gangster! Do you know what that means?” your friend is now starting to be annoying. 
You shut your eyes, resisting yourself from lashing out on her. 
“Do I look like a seven year old to you? Of course I know what a gangster is, Eul!” You emphasize your point as much as you can. But you know your ‘idea’ would sound absurd to anyone. 
“Then why are you even doing this? What if he gets offended and he just… he just kills you?” No eul’s eyes are full of fear but you know it’s pointless. Rumors have it that Min Yoongi doesn’t kill women and children unless there is a very good reason. 
And killing you just because you asked him to fuck you? Seems like a far fetched thought. But you are not going to explain that to your friend, not right now, standing in the middle of a dingy nightclub. 
When you place your eyes on Yoongi again, his meeting has already ended and he is walking towards the bar island. 
“Omg omg! He is finally free. I am gonna go. Eul, just take a cab home and make sure Mr. Go doesn’t see you.” you speak hastily, already trying to beeline to Yoongi. 
“But Y/N..”
“Eul.. Go! Don’t just stand here. This is not the place for people like us. Just go home.. I will call you as soon as I am free.”  waving Eul off, you start walking towards Yoongi. 
He looks karismatic as he sips on his drink, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. His dark long hair reaches to his nape, his pale skin glistening under the dim light of the bar counter, veins pop out on his arms and you wonder how those hands would feel on your body. 
Your heels click on the floor as you walk towards the man but you can’t hear the sound because of the loud music in the background. 
What you can hear is the loud beating of your heart, which gradually increases as you reach close to him. 
“Is that seat taken?” you voice, making sure you sound confident enough. 
And then he looks at you with those dark eyes, you feel your soul leaving your body slowly. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He only regards you for a few moments and you wait patiently for his answer. 
“What are you doing here?” His voice is sharp but you don’t understand if he is upset with you for being at this place. 
“You know me?” placing your question, you take a step towards him. 
Yoongi scoffs at your dumb question. 
“Do you think I went to threaten your father without doing any research on your familyline?” he cocks one of his eyebrows. 
You don’t say anything, rather you sit down on the empty seat beside him. There is no point in waiting for his answer anymore. 
But your mind briefly goes back to the day when he broke into your mansion, injuring all of the guards on duty and threatening your father by taking him aside. You were enamored by this mysterious, scary man and all you wanted was to be under his authority for once. 
“Did your daddy send his little daughter to deal with me? So that a bigshot businessman like him doesn’t have to be seen with a thug like me, huh?”  Man! Yoongi really hates your dad for whatever reason you are not aware of. 
“No. I came here alone, all by myself” you reply, sucking in a deep breath. 
“Alone?” Yoongi mocks you, as if he knows you are lying. 
“I mean alone with Mr. Go, my driver.” you answer and Yoongi scoffs. 
“And why did you do that? Why did you come here?” the fine hairs of your neck stand up at the low, husky voice of the man. Especially because he has scooted closer to your body without your knowledge. 
“I came here to see you.” 
“The reason?” 
“I want you to fuck me.” 
Yoongi’s eyes turn darker at your proposal. And your heart starts beating even faster. 
“Do you know what you are asking for?” 
“I do. We don’t have to be in love or something. Just make me one of your girls for the night.” 
Yoongi’s tongue darts out of his mouth and wets his lips but he doesn’t say a thing. 
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Your cries get muffled on the pillow, your wrists sting due to the tight hold of Yoongi’s rough calloused hand. But you feel euphoric. 
Yoongi’s fat cock hits your g-spot each time he thrusts into you. The lewd sound of wet squelching and skin slapping fill your ears. 
“Your rich cock-hungry whore! You really got the nerves of asking me for a fuck huh? You brat!” Yoongi’s voice is breathless and you want to admire it but before you could, a sharp slap lands on your bare ass. You scream on the pillow. 
“Fuck! So tight! Your pretty little rich boyfriends never really fucked you this good, huh?” he pulls his dick out of your entrance, leaves on the tip inside and then enters you again with full force. Your world starts swinging because of the sensession. 
“N-no- Nobody ever fucked me this good, yoo-Yonngi.”
Nother slap lands on your ass. 
“Did I give you the permission to call me by my name?” Yoongi pinches your clit with his free hand. 
“No-fuck- I am so-ahhh” before you could apologize, he starts rubbing rough circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. 
“G-gonna cum.” you inform him while drooling messily on the pillow. 
“Cum.” Yoongi commands. And you let yourself go. 
Honestly you thought he was going to deny your orgasm and you were a little shocked when he permitted you. 
But your confusions soon go away, when he flips you, lays you on your back all while still being inside you and starts thrusting into you again. 
Your mind goes numb due to overstimulation. You barely can make out what’s happening. 
Your senses finally start coming out of the clouds when you feel hotness flood in your hole. 
Fuck! Yoongi just came inside you! 
“Get your clothes and leave.” he says as he pulls out his dick. 
Even though his harshness hurts you a bit, you know he is right. You should leave as soon as possible. 
So you sit up, grab your panty from the floor, slip into it and walk towards Yoongi for one last time. 
Yoongi has lit up a cigarette and the smoke makes it tough to make out his expression under the fluorescent lights of the motel. But you know he is staring at you.  
Reaching on your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek and maybe that catches him off guard. 
“It was nice knowing you, Yoongi.” you say in his ears before taking your heels and walking out of the door. 
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
1K notes · View notes
btsugarush · 4 months
Text
GANGSTA | myg - 004
summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.
pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader
warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.
word count: 3.5K
authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.
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“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.
You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.
Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”
You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”
You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”
Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”
You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”
You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’
“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”
Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”
Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”
“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”
You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”
Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”
You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”
“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”
“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.
“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?
You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”
The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.
Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”
You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.
“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”
You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.
You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.
You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”
How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.
So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.
“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.
“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.
“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.
“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”
“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”
Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”
Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”
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“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”
You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.
You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.
You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.
It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”
“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”
“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”
“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”
“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.
Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.
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“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.
“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.
“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.
“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.
“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.
“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”
“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”
“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”
“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”
“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.
“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”
“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.
“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”
“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”
You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?
“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.
“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”
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orchidyoonkook · 5 months
Text
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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2K notes · View notes
jeonjcngkook · 11 months
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clandestine | myg (m) teaser
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pairing: gangleader!yoongi x f!reader
genre(s)&au(s): gang au, bitch better have my money or i'll fuck ur girl au, angst, pwp, smut
rating: 18+
word count: teaser - 405
warning(s)&smut warning(s): strong language, mentions of weapons, threats of murder
summary: bloodthirsty and dangerous, yoongi wont stop until he gets what he is rightful owed. and if you're on offer, then he just cant say no to that.
banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics
note: hehehe...
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“Sir, over here,” you overhear someone whisper — probably having heard the snoring from above you.
The sound of heavy duty combat boots picking up pace and heading straight in your direction makes you still. You don’t move an inch in fear of getting caught, placing a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing at bay.
From underneath the bed, you count five pairs of boots. They move slowly around the bed surrounding you in a circle. Two of them make their way to the side of the bed where Hee-won lies and another two direct themselves to your side of the bed, vanishing behind the comforter that you had pulled down earlier.
The remaining body doesn’t move from the bottom of the bed. Instead, you watch on as he pulls out the chair from underneath the vanity; the scraping of the chair legs against the floor is like nails on a chalkboard causing you to hiss at the sound.
He sits down in the chair and spreads his legs too casually for someone who is breaking into an apartment which can only mean he has done this many times in the past. He’s calculated and smart — knows how to play the game.
The room is silent.
Nobody talks and nobody moves.
Your eyes frantically dart back and forth between their legs, watching for any movement…but nothing. The sound of a large heavy bag being dropped to the floor makes you jump in terror, your body hitting the framing of the bed.
Someone had to have heard that…
Your body chills at the thought of being caught; who knows what awaits you outside of your hiding spot. Who knows what these men are capable of.
You’re able to make out someone shushing those around him and you watch as the man who is sitting in the chair eventually gets up and walks over to the side of the bed to join the other two where Hee-won lays.
One of the men bends down in your peripheral vision as his leather gloves starts to unzip the bag, emptying the contents all over the floor. The sound of metal on metal hitting against each other is deafening in the small bedroom. You watch as guns, knives and an array of other weaponry is scattered in a small pile on the floor.
“Where is she?” You hear who you presume to be the leader of the home invasion ask. “She’s supposed to be here. I swear if this fucker has touched her, I’ll bury him myself.”
5K notes · View notes
yoongiofmine · 8 months
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The Final - Day 02 | MYG | ONESHOT
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MAIN MASTERLIST
Pair: DDAY!Yoongi  x Groupie!Reader 
Summary: You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?
Genre and warnings: Just in case there's any confusion, there's no Day 1 or Day 3, this is a one shot about DAY 2 because he looked hot af (as always), idol au, porn with a lot of plot, Yoongi and that damn chain, day two of the final Seoul concerts because I have to write about DDAY every chance I get.
WC: 16k
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Being Min Yoongi’s go-to groupie had its downsides. 
Like being looked down upon by a few of his staff and crew, and the very real notion that that was all you would ever be to the man. An easy –albeit good– fuck, someone sure to be avaliable whenever he felt like it, someone he knew he could trust even without the NDAs getting involved. 
But it also had its perks. 
Like free backstage access, free ticket to any and every concert your heart desires, being flown around the world to see him just because he “missed you”, the sure notion that you’d be going home with him every time, and unlimited access to his members.
Day two of D-DAY The Final was coming to an end, the last encore of the night was ringing loudly in your ears as you waited for Yoongi to be done with his set tonight. Seoul had never felt hotter than it did this past week, summer in full swing, and it was made even worse by the very hot man blowing off the roof of the KSPO Dome for hundreds of thousands of fans. 
You were holding onto a cold water bottle, sipping from the straw poked on the lid, the kind reserved for the artists performing, no doubt being sent to you by Yoongi himself. Unless the staff girl who delivered it to you had suddenly developed a liking to you, when just this morning she’d be sending you glares during the first, private, soundcheck. 
“I was so embarrassed, like, right at the beginning of the song?” Jungkook had his eyes closed and a light blush on his tanned cheeks. “There's someone in the mirror that you don't know– I didn’t remember any of it.” 
“ARMY was just happy to see you, Kookie, they didn’t even notice it, I promise.” you assured the man, reaching out to squeeze his arm in support. “You were still incredible last night.” 
“I wanted to do it again tonight, to redeem myself, but hyung said no.” the man had a sheepish bunny smile on his lips, leaning just a little closer to you as the screams outside grew louder. 
“Tonight was Jiminie’s turn, but maybe tomorrow?” you offered, watching him shrug in response. 
You were both backstage, where you’d usually stay during concerts that took place in Korea, using one of the storage boxes as a perch. Your feet didn’t really touch the ground from here, legs swinging in the rhythm of the song playing, while Jungkook was standing up next to your knees. 
You and Yoongi had a few almost-getting-caught scares in the past, where some fans recognized your face and thought it was weird that you were a recurring guest at BTS concerts, going as far as speculating if you were one of the members’ secret girlfriend. You made it to the Dispatch twitter feed once and it was enough for Yoongi to grow protective; either of you, or his own image, you didn’t know. 
For this very reason, you usually stayed with the crew, watching from the smaller TV screens instead of mingling in the crowd or reserved VIP seats. 
Jungkook had the option of watching it from the bleachers tonight, too, where Jimin and a few other close guests were, but he decided to keep you company. Out of all of the members, the maknae was the one to go out of his way to keep you entertained, strike up a conversation and just be pleasant whenever you saw each other. The other five were always polite and you didn’t think any of them frowned upon your arrangement with Yoongi, but Jungkook was always the nicest. 
Maybe it was because of his overall friendly and gentle personality, maybe it was because of the crush he held that you pretended not to know about. 
“I’m glad you weren’t here last night.” he chuckled, bringing your eyes from the TV where Yoongi was dancing while introducing his band and back to the young man in front of you. “I would have been mortified if you had seen that.” 
You didn’t have the heart to tell him you watched the concert stream from your home, so you did catch Jungkook’s tiny mess up when he joined Yoongi for the very special performance of Burn It. Instead, you went with: “Oh, I’m sure it was much worse in your head! I wouldn’t even have noticed it.” 
“You’re too nice, noona.” he beamed, hugging his torso by crossing his arms. 
“I am sad I missed the performance of Seven, though.” you continued, watching his face light up. “I really like that song, you know?” 
“Ah, thanks.” his smile turned a little shy, a pretty chuckle slipping from his pierced lips. 
When the final notes of The Last –a truly heartbreaking song that made your heart clench every time you heard it– filled the space, both you and Jungkook turned to the entrance of the backstage area, where staff were already pulling on the curtains and lighting flashlights to illuminate the path. 
Yoongi was dripping in sweat when he appeared, heavy curtains being closed once again, keeping him safe from the public’s view. You could tell, even from far away, that his body was buzzing with adrenaline, hand constantly pushing his hair back; as if he hadn’t done enough of it all night. 
Not that you were complaining, far from it. Yoongi looked stunning at all times, but there was something about his concert afterglow, almost as ethereal as how he looked after a good orgasm. 
His team was all over him in a second, girls dabbing a clean white towel to dry his sweat, someone else offering him a water bottle that looked exactly like yours, a staff reaching into the back of his shirt to pull out the cords of his earpiece and remove his mic pack. 
Only after bowing and waving them off, Yoongi looked around, just like you knew he would. He was nibbling on the inside of his lips, eyebrows kissing as he searched for something. 
As he searched for you. 
Because you never made it easy for him, you never rushed out to find him, and he knew that. It was bad enough people around knew what you were to each other, knew you were only there to take away Yoongi’s pent up energy, but you’d be sent on your way home at the end of the night. 
You didn’t need to be known as the clingy fuck buddy that didn’t know her place. 
But it never took Yoongi too long to find you, and your stomach was swarmed with red colored butterflies every time he did. 
“Get the car ready.” Yoongi told his manager, eyes stuck on you as he gave out the order. “Gonna make my way out right now. Just give me a minute.” 
“Sure, Yoongi-ssi. Good job tonight.” the man bowed and pulled out a radio device from his pocket, walking away as he relayed the information: “Car one, on the ready. Standby–”
Yoongi was a man on a mission as he walked up to you, your face breaking into the prettiest smile as you saw him see you. You were so fucking pretty tonight, it was as if you didn’t want him to hold off long enough to get out of the venue. Your pretty black dress had been a present from Yoongi himself, brought to you from his latest trip to Japan, and it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing it. 
Because the teasing mirror selcas you took when you received the package didn’t count. Not by a long shot. Your breasts looked a lot softer in person, the bit of shimmer he could see covering the perfectly round mounds could be either from sweat, despite the AC working hard to keep the backstage cool, or from whatever lotion you liked to apply that made your skin smell and look so good. 
You were temptation on legs, the kind Yoongi couldn’t resist. He hadn’t for years now, wasn’t about to start, either. 
Breaking his tunnel vision, a wider frame blocked Yoongi’s view of you. Wide chest and tattoos making Yoongi falter, stance almost breaking as Jungkook opened his arms to hug him. 
“Hyung! You were so cool up there!” the maknae clinged to him, obviously not minding his sweaty shirt clinging to his chest. “Are you feeling better?”
Yoongi hadn’t seen Jungkook in the VIP area, alongside Jimin and his friends that came to watch the concert tonight, he didn’t even know the youngling would be here tonight. Had Jungkook been backstage all night? With you? Looking like that?
“Thanks, Kook-ah.” he patted the man on the back, gently pushing him off to break the hug. “I’m fine, about to crash.” 
“Hey.” you were greeting, still seated behind Jungkook, making Yoongi step around him to finally get to you. 
Your sweet smile was still there even Yoongi held both sides of your face in his slightly trembling hands to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands held onto his shirt, squeezing and tugging him closer. And Yoongi wanted nothing more than to lick into your mouth, slip his hand to the back of your neck and show everyone just who would be taking you home tonight. 
But you were the one to break the kiss, looking down as if you were shy –which was weird enough, as you were never shy with him–, but then your eyes looked at a spot behind Yoongi’s shoulder, where Jungkook was very much watching the exchange, despite pretending he wasn’t bothered by it. 
It made Yoongi frown, a small twist in his guts and the picking up of his already haywire heart sitting uncomfortably in his chest. 
“Come.” Yoongi called to you, offering you his hand, being thankful when you took it without hesitation. You jumped from your spot on the equipment box, letting Yoongi keep you by his side. Turning to Jungkook, he checked: “You’re leaving now, too? Or are you going with Jimin?” 
Yoongi started to walk, bringing you along and Jungkook got into step with the two of you, on Yoongi’s other side. With a small shake of his head, the maknae spoke:
“Jimin hyung already left, but I think my car is already waiting too.” 
“Good, get home safe.” Yoongi patted the boy on his back, adding: “Sleep so that you can heal from that cough. Don’t go drinking and turning on a live.” 
“I like his random lives.” you giggled, short legs forcing you to almost skip in order to keep up with the two of them. 
“Don’t enable him, kitten.” Yoongi sent you a look, but you only grinned harder. 
The path had been cleared out for the artist to exit the venue as quickly as possible. The longer he took, the more fans would be leaving the KSPO, the more difficult it would be for a swift getaway; not to mention all the traffic and reporters that could most likely follow. 
Two cars were already waiting right by the backstage garage and Jungkook was led into the closest one first. Yoongi was already pulling you to the car in front of it, the one that was assigned to him, when Jungkook’s calling made you stop. 
“Noona, I’ll text you about that coffee, okay?” the way Jungkook avoided looking at Yoongi wasn’t lost on the rapper. 
“Looking forward to it!” was your small reply as you waved. 
Yoongi gave your hand a little squeeze, your cue to hurry up. You never knew who could be lurking in underground garages afterall, so you bowed your head to avoid hitting it on the roof of the car and stepped in. Yoongi was right behind you, the door being shut right away. Two taps to the roof of the vehicle has the driver turning it on and quickly exiting the venue. 
“What was that about coffee?” Yoongi asked you, not bothering to put on his seatbelt as he let his body mold into the cool backseat. “Are you sharing recipes now?”
“Ah, no. He mentioned wanting to take me out for coffee and asked for my number.” you replied, hoping Yoongi wouldn’t be bothered by it. One of his eyes parted to look at you, an unreadable expression crossing his face. 
“And you said yes?” 
You shrugged a little, licking between your lips. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?” 
“Guess not.” Yoongi offered you a tight lipped smile, but yours faltered. 
This was one of the things that really bothered you in this arrangement you had going on with Yoongi. The blindness of this man when it comes to your own feelings. You couldn’t even really blame him for it, when you knew what you were getting yourself into from the start. You knew right away Yoongi didn’t like relationships, he was much too chill to look for labels, to make himself stuck with one person when he was already too busy for his own liking. 
And you were okay with that for a long while, you were still okay with this, or you would have put a stop to it any time he called you for a late night or middle of the day booty call. But sometimes you looked at him and your heart did a thing. That’s when it was a little harder to swallow down the lump in your throat and accept that this is all you would ever be to him, until the day his someone special came along. 
Someone you knew he couldn’t say no to, someone who wouldn’t settle for less, someone so incredible they might take Yoongi’s heart. 
Or until your someone showed up in your life. 
You hoped for that to happen first. 
Maybe with Jungkook. 
You watched with a heavy heart as Yoongi reached for the air conditioning controls in the panel of the door on his side to make the backseat all the cooler. 
“It was really hot today, wasn’t it?” you changed the subject swiftly. 
“Fuck yeah, and the lights don’t make it better.” Yoongi chuckled in that raspy way of his and you were gone. Making home in his back pocket, fitting on the palm of his hand, wrapping yourself around his pinky finger. “I was dripping out there.” 
“So was I.” you offered him a little smirk as his eyes met yours, lowering as he watched you bite your bottom lip. “You looked really hot.” 
“Liked what you saw?” he drawed out, leaning closer to you, pushing your hair away from your neck to replace it with his lips. 
“Very much.” you tilted your head to the side, sighing in bliss as he kissed all over your heated skin. “Why don’t you check?” 
Yoongi’s laugh was raspy from the hours of using his voice, sending tingles all over you as you gently pried your legs open in an invitation. His hand found your thigh, no hesitation or concerns about the fact that this car didn’t have any partition, so all it would take was one look at the rearview mirror for the driver to see Yoongi cupping your cunt. 
Upon finding the wetness you could feel all night, Yoongi’s teeth sunk in on your neck, holding his bite until he was sure he’d leave a mark. You moaned as quietly as you could, gasping as his tongue licked the spot to soothe the ache. 
“Guess the concert was really good.” he spoke quietly, more for himself, dragging his middle finger up and down your damp underwear. 
“You were growling a lot.” you admitted, hands on the edge of the bench as you used it to ground yourself. “And your chain during the second half–”
“What about it, kitten?” Yoongi wanted to know, drawing circles right above your clit. 
“It–it looked like a collar on a leash.” you couldn’t help the small rocking of your hips as you tried to chase after his touch when Yoongi moved his hand away. 
“I asked to keep it.” the man said as you blinked heavily enough to make your brain work a little faster again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long, metal chain. “I asked because I knew you’d like it.” 
“Oh my god.” you let out a tiny giggle as Yoongi held the jewelry up for you to see. “Can I see it?” 
“It’s yours, kitten.” 
There was a silly, bubbling feeling making your stomach hot and cold at the same time. Yoongi dragged the chain on your naked thigh, sending goosebumps all over your legs as you felt the weight and the coldness of it. He let you take it from his hand, let you see all of the heavy links making up the whole body of the chain. You could see the small, circular ring in the middle, clasping it closed so it would make the same shape it did around Yoongi’s neck earlier. You had a few necklaces like these, reminding you of a leash more than an actual piece of jewelry, but they were a lot more delicate and thin than this. 
Lifting it up to your nose, you breathed in Yoongi’s natural musk, as it was covered in his sweat, and his favorite perfume. Masculine, but never overbearing. Your favorite smell in the whole world. 
“Thank you, Yoongi.” you smiled at him, keeping the chain in your hold even as the car moved past Yoongi’s gate. 
The Hannam-dong area was a lot more lavish than your own neighborhood, quiet and made up of homes and apartment complexes you would never be able to afford, even if your modeling agency decided to pay what you believed you deserved. 
Somehow, it matched Yoongi perfectly. That quiet, unobtainable life that reminded you so much of himself. 
Yoongi got out of the car as soon as it was parked in front of the entrance of his building, holding the door open for you to do the same. His driver was already rushing to the booth to retrieve Yoongi’s backpack, where his own clothes, phone and personal belongings were stored and placed in the car ready for his exit. 
“Should I wait for you, sir?” the man asked, but what he really meant was ‘should I wait for you to be done?’. 
It didn’t bother you that he knew the nature of your visit, but the way the driver didn’t directly speak to you, or even look at your face, irked you every time. 
“That won’t be necessary, you can go home.” Yoongi told him simply, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Jeong.” 
“Goodnight, sir.” he bowed to his employer and you didn’t even try to say goodbye. 
Yoongi noticed how quiet you got, how could he not? He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it, honest and earning eyes making sure you knew he was all that mattered, all you should focus on. And you would gladly do it, too. 
With an arm around your waist, Yoongi led you into the building, past security and into the elevator. You could see the adrenaline was slowly moving away and leaving him; you knew what was coming next, already wondering what kind of food he’d order for dinner. 
“Will you really make Mr. Jeong leave his bed when it's time to drive me home?” you asked Yoongi while the elevator took you up to the third floor of the short building. “Not that I mind too much, but he already doesn’t like me.” 
You were perfectly fine taking a cab or a general paid ride, but Yoongi never liked that, always preferring that his driver take you home. It was a safer option, privacy and all that. 
But then he spoke words you never thought you’d hear from him:
“You’re not going home tonight.” Yoongi shrugged, as if it was a common occurrence, having you stay over. “Is that okay?” 
“You never ask me to stay the night.” you babbled, walking out of the elevator to wait in the hallway as he unlocked his front door. 
“We’ve spent the night together before, what are you talking about?” Yoongi looked at you as if you were crazy, letting you walk into the apartment first. 
You scoffed, taking your shoes off by the door as Yoongi did the same after turning on the main lights and locking the door after himself. 
“Yeah, when we’re out of town.” you pointed out. “At hotels, or rented places. Not when we’re here and I have a perfectly good home to go back to.” 
“Mhm.” he hummed, as if tracing his memories to find out if what you were saying was right. Before you could move much further down the hallway, Yoongi held you by your waist, taking a step to press you against the closest wall. You sucked in a small breath as his nose bumped against yours. “If that’s true, then it’s about time we change that.” 
You couldn’t help the skyrocketing of your heart at Yoongi’s words. Despite your brain begging you to not believe it, that he was just saying that to get you to melt and turn putty in hold. But it was small moments like these, little things he did or said that made the lines so deeply drawn in the sand to blur. You wouldn't mind getting rid of it altogether. 
Yoongi’s teeth nibbled on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth to suck on. Your hand slipped into his hair, wet with a mixture of sweat and hair products. 
"Yoongi–" you sighed blissfully, pressing your body into his as your every nerve ending craved him. 
It was then that the pitter patter of short nails on marble and a small whine, followed by a bark made you pull your lips from Yoongi’s grasp. 
You gasped for a whole different reason, pushing Yoongi away in order to properly look at the tiny dog jumping on his hind legs to greet you and his appa. 
"You didn't tell me you got Holly back!" you chirped, settling on your knees to coo and pet Yoongi's dog as he laid on the floor, showing you his tummy. 
Holly, the brown poodle, had a bit of a shared parenting situation, where he would stay with Yoongi in Seoul whenever he had a work schedule that allowed him to stay in Seoul for a while. The other half of the time, he'd stay in Daegu with Yoongi’s parents, who treated the puppy like a grandson. 
You've met Yoongi’s parents once before, and things weren't as awkward as they could have been, considering. You knew they were in town to watch Yoongi’s concert yesterday, so it didn't surprise you they brought Holly back. 
"Wanted it to be a surprise." Yoongi smiled, melting your insides into goo. "It would be too easy to make you want to stay if you knew he's home." 
You rolled your eyes, which he couldn't see, as if it would ever be hard for Yoongi to convince you to spend the night. 
"Well, now I might just stay the weekend." you bluffed, not really expecting the words to come out of his mouth next. 
"You're welcome to." he simply stated, getting back to his original height after tickling Holly into squirming. 
"Alright, now I'm worried." you chuckled nervously, standing up as well. 
"What?" 
"Why do you want me to stay so much?" you pondered, following him down the hall towards his bedroom. "Am I not gonna be able to walk tomorrow or something?" 
"Oh, shut up." he laughed, pulling you to him by your waist, gluing his front to your back as he dragged you into his room. Walking with a grown man stuck to you was tricky, but you would never complain. "Shower with me." 
"But Holly–" 
"He'll still be here when we're done." he whined, nuzzling his face into your neck. 
It wouldn't need much convincing on his part to get you to agree to shower with him, when you knew exactly what he looked like under the running water of his fancy ass rain shower. 
You dropped your purse and gifted chain on top of Yoongi’s bed on the way to the bathroom, barely missing it on Yoongi’s rush to drag you into it fast enough to lock Holly out. The puppy barked a couple of times before going to find something else to do. 
“Should we order food now so it's here when we're out?” you asked Yoongi as the thought just now crossed your mind. 
“I don't want to have to rush.” Yoongi answered after pondering for a couple of seconds. “Are you too hungry now?”
“No, but I know you.” you mused, crossing your arms. “You have your after concert phases.”
“Phases?” he enquired, tilting his head as he held the hem of his shirt between his fingers. 
“Mhm. First you get horny, which is why you're dragging me into the shower.” you lifted a finger, then another. “And then you get hungry and cranky if you don’t eat right away.”
“I don't get cranky–” he snorted, pulling his shirt off the rest of the way. 
You hadn’t seen Yoongi like this for a couple of weeks, as you were busy with work and he was rehearsing for the last three concerts of his tour. Although, if you were being honest, you’d drool over his body even if you were lucky enough to see him naked everyday. 
Yoongi was gorgeous all over, and he’d put on some very appreciated weight, as he usually did during tours. It meant he was eating well, which would always make you happy when you worried for his well being on the road. His chest muscles were filled up, biceps bulging, and a soft, yet lean, stomach that you planned on kissing and biting before the end of the night. 
“Okay, if you're sure, we can order after the shower.” you settled, knowing the possibility of coming to regret it was very much real. 
“I am.” he assured you, despite you knowing him like the back of your hand. 
Soon after, his pants were joining his shirt on the black marble floor, along with his boxers. You liked the fact that, during his solo concerts, Yoongi didn’t have to wear the protection cups male idols had to use when dancing was involved. To this day, you still remembered laughing about the weird piece when you helped Yoongi undress when he forgot he still had it on.
And, to confirm your theory about Yoongi’s ‘post concert phases’, his cock was very much half hard and hanging long. Phase one was in full force, it seemed. It also explained why he was so impatiently waiting for you to undress, despite already walking into the glass shower stall and turning it on. 
You took your time taking your dress off when you heard: 
“That dress looks really good on you.” Yoongi was eating you with his eyes from behind the shower door, talking a little louder so you’d hear him. 
“Thank you, it was a gift.” you beamed, letting the black piece fall to the floor. 
“Whoever gave it to you has good taste.” he gloated, which made you laugh as you hooked your fingers on the sides of your underwear. 
“Eh, his ego is too big, so don’t tell him I agree.” 
After getting naked, much to Yoongi’s relief, you stepped into the shower, breathing in the steam, feet relaxing after being in uncomfortable shoes for so many hours. Yoongi was already dripping from head to toe, wet hair long and pushed back and away from his infuriatingly handsome face. His eyes were closed as he rubbed soap on his lids to remove his makeup. 
You approached him sheepishly, hands on his sides as you kissed his chest and collarbones. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction at feeling you close, tipping his head back to get rid of the soap on his face so he could look at you. Water splashed on you, and his own body temperature was telling. 
“Isn’t the water too hot for you?” you questioned, continuing to kiss his body as your hands roamed his back and you pressed your fronts together. 
“A little, but that’s how you like it.” he shrugged, wrapping his arms around you and taking a step back so you could both share the water stream. “Is it okay?” 
“It’s perfect, but you usually complain about it.” you pointed out, linking your hands behind his back, not really planning on letting him go for the time being. 
“Just because it makes me all pink and flushed.” he chuckled, having a little bit of a hard time to reach for his facial soap and squirt some of it on his palms. “But you also like that, so.” 
“I always think you’re cute.” you trailed off, closing your eyes as he started to massage your face with gentle fingers to also remove your makeup. And he always did a much better job than if you did it yourself. 
“So I went from hot to cute in less than an hour?” Yoongi complained with a whine to his tone, making you laugh. 
“You are a man of many faces.” your eyes were still closed as Yoongi moved from your face to massage the water into your scalp, the hot stream relaxing every muscle on your body as it fell freely onto the two of you. “Agust D is hot. Yoongi is cute.” 
The man in question was laughing and you felt it all over you as his chest rumbled and his shoulders were shaking, bringing a smile to your own lips. When you finally opened your eyes, you regretted immensely. Because the way he was looking at you was not the way you look at someone you’re just fucking. 
You hadn’t decided yet if those loving eyes were hurtful or proof that it was okay to hope. You weren’t ready yet to have your heart broken, in case you were painfully wrong, so you had to change it fast. And the way you found to do that, was to bring your hands to his front, dragging them down his stomach. 
Yoongi’s gaze darkened, which was something you were much more used to dealing with. His breathing grew labored in anticipation, forehead pressing against yours as your fingertips reached the short patch of hair and found his erection. 
“You complain I get horny after concerts, but you’re always enabling me,” he groaned as your hand wrapped around his base and you squeezed him lightly. “So, it’s your own fault.” 
“I’m such a horrible person for doing that.” you smiled against his jaw, running your hand up and down his cock, bringing him into fullness. “Should I stop?”
His fingertips pressed harder against your sides, a warning for you to stay where you were, doing exactly what you were doing. Yoongi’s lips searched for and found yours, starting a wet kiss that made your knees tremble. One of his hands left your sides to hold the back of your neck, tongue coaxing your mouth to open and let it in. 
Your lips parted and you chased his tongue with yours. You explored each other’s mouths as if you didn’t have them mapped out at this point, as if you didn’t know what that tongue could do, or how he had a bit of a biting problem when it came to your lips. Yoongi’s kiss always felt like the first kiss all over again, enough to make your heart buzz in your ears and your body respond to it in ways that should be shameful. 
Yoongi took your bottom lip into his mouth, giving it tiny tugs and long sucks, making you moan against his mouth as your hand closed around his tip. 
“You still have that soap?” you asked quietly as you couldn’t properly move your hand with all that water. 
“I always keep a bottle here, in case you come over.” Yoongi nodded, searching for the bottle in question amongst the hair and body products he kept in the ledge of his shower wall. 
“Always prepared.” you giggled, letting go of his cock to offer your palm up to him. 
The soap he poured on your hand was oil-based; a specific kind of lube-like product advertised for these very moments. The bottle was almost empty, definitely less than the last time you saw it, and you hoped he used it on his own, instead of using it with other partners. You didn’t think Yoongi would have the time or the patience to entertain multiple people at the same time, but you would never be brave enough to ask him about it either. 
When you brought your hand back down, the glide up and down his cock was much easier, making Yoongi groan in pleasure and throw his head back, the perfect opportunity for you to kiss his long neck, feeling as he swallowed hard when you closed your fist around his tip again, flicking your wrist a couple of times. 
“Much better.” you mumbled against his neck as you licked and sucked on tiny spots of his shoulder you knew would be covered by his shirt at tomorrow's concert. 
“I’ll say so–” Yoongi agreed breathlessly, hips moving a little faster to fuck himself into your hand. 
Before putting the bottle where it belonged, Yoongi took a bit of product into his own hand, spreading it on his fingers and bringing his arm between your bodies. You were already parting your feet carefully not to slip in the process, but giving Yoongi enough room to slip his hand between your legs. 
“Dunno why I use this,” you could feel the smirk in his tone as two fingers slipped between your folds. “You’re always so wet for me.” 
You had a comeback on the tip of your tongue, you were sure of it. Too bad you couldn’t remember what it was as his fingers kept dragging up and down your folds, just barely grazing your clit before moving lower to tease your little hole. 
Your forehead rested against his shoulder as you held his cock with both hands, working on his shaft as you diligently flicked your wrist just under his tip, using your thumb to spread the lube and the slick dripping out him, circling his velvety head. 
“Fuck, you know just how to touch me–” he cursed lowly, chest almost trembling the more you did what he liked. “Getting me so close, kitten.” 
“I know, it’s my favorite talent.” you smiled to yourself, slipping one hand between his legs to cup his balls. 
“Aw, shit–” 
Seeing as you were playing with the tread keeping him on this earth, Yoongi focused on his own hand between your legs, done with the teasing, bringing the pads of his fingers to your bundle of nerves. Yoongi played with your clit, pulling the hood back, letting the slippery, swollen nub slip between his fingers as he moved them up and down, massaging the sane out of your brain. 
There were a few reasons why his staff didn’t like you, and the fact you couldn’t really control your noises when it came to Yoongi was definitely an easy one to point out. You weren’t ever wailing and yelling bloody murder, but when Yoongi made you feel good, you let him know. The shower water wasn’t enough to muffle your moans, and the man was throbbing and pulsing in your hands from how much he enjoyed hearing your every sound. 
“Oh, please–” you cried out when his fingers moved down again, the tip of one pushing inside your clenching hole. 
“Yeah, kitten?” a rhetorical question, yet you still nodded. Yoongi’s voice was low and borderline immoral as he teased: “Want them inside this tight little pussy?”
“I do…” you mewled, almost losing focus on your own hand movements.  
Yoongi circled your entrance again, tearing out whimpers from you, until you lifted your head to look at him. You knew he never resisted when you looked at him like this; big eyes, wet lashes sticking together, a tiny pout on your lips. It was enough for him to push his digits inside you, just to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw fall slack. 
The stretch was minimal from how aroused you were, how wet you felt all night, and the soap definitely made it even easier for Yoongi to push them as deep as he could. 
“Faster, baby.” he groaned with one swift movement of his hips. “Wanna make a mess on you.”
“You’re so hard.” you mumbled between moans of your own, both hands closing around his thickness and jerking him off faster. 
Your hands moved up and down, tugging and squeezing. When you looked down, between your wet bodies, you saw how his usually pale pink tip was colored red, as if he’d been holding back. You wondered if it was painful and if it was blending with his arousal, making every stroke feel better and better. 
His fingers hooked inside you, the angle just right and practiced, finding your sweet spot with ease. Yoongi’s palm pressed against your clit, rubbing it as his fingers fucked in and out of you fast enough to make your vision blurr and your legs shake. At every upstroke, he hit your g-spot perfectly, close to making you unravel fast. 
Taking you by surprise, Yoongi hooked his free hand on your thigh, lifting it and holding it up, opening you up so that his hand could reach a new angle that made you whimper loudly. One of your hands held onto his shoulder for balance, even if you knew he’d never let you slip. 
It would be so easy for you to bring his cock into your entrance like this, the angle was almost perfect. You were both looking at each other’s hands and Yoongi read your mind as he said: 
“Later, kitten. Wanna take my time when I fuck you later.” 
“But I love your cock so much.” you complained with no real bite. 
“I also know you like my fingers.” he sounded smug, but no lies had been told tonight. “Want you to cum around them first, okay?” 
“Uh-huh–” 
All left for you to do was to agree, you were already so close just from his fingering that you might not have the time to bring him into your pulsating walls. Yoongi focused his efforts into fucking you just right, beautiful knobby fingers working your cunt fast and hard, just as you stroked his cock with as much passion as he was giving you. 
But Yoogi wouldn’t cum before making you unravel, no matter how painfully hard his cock was in your hand. Lucky for him, all it took were the three words delivered to your ear, in that gravely tone of his, to have you coming undone. 
“Cum for me.” 
It wasn’t a request, not even permission, but an order that was easy to obey. You didn’t even have that much control over your actions when Yoongi was commanding your body as well as he was. Your lower stomach tensed and your nails sunk in on his shoulder, gard enough for him to hiss and hold you a little harder. You trembled endlessly as he kept fucking you, guinding you through what you could only describe as a mind blowing orgasm you only ever reached when you were with Yoongi. 
When he gently let your leg go, making sure you wouldn’t lose your balance, your second hand reached for his cock so you could make him cum for you right away. You pumped him up and down, hands covering his tip, then slipping all the way down to his base. Yoongi’s moans were the best thing you heard all night, and after a concert filled with growls, note changes and his fast rap, it was saying something. 
Thick ropes shot out from his flushed tip, hitting part of your chest and your stomach, painting you with his pleasure. There was so much of it coming that you wondered if he even touched himself from the last time you were together. For some irrational reason, you liked that theory, saving it into your heart even if it wasn’t true. 
“Fuck, how do you always do that?” Yoongi moved his fingers out of your pussy, holding you by the ribs to press your body flush against his. 
“Do what?” you sounded a little drunk as you were forced to let go of his cock with his movements. 
“Drive me crazy.” he explained as you circled his neck with your weak and tired arms. 
“Bet you say that to everyone.” apparently your brain and your heart were disconnected as you spoke those words. 
If only you knew you had nothing to worry about when all Yoongi said was: 
“There’s no one else, kitten.”
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Yoongi was taking too long to get off the phone with his parents, you could hear him repeat ‘yes, eomma’ a few dozen times in the past ten minutes. You knew he must be starving by now, you definitely were and you weren’t even the one jumping around for two hours. 
Your shower took a little longer than expected as you both forgot just how hard oil-based lube was to wash off, not to mention washing Yoongi’s hair, and then yours. By the time the food finally arrived, your lover was cranky –as you knew he would be– and it was way past midnight. 
You were wearing one of his shirts, kindly offered to you as your impromptu sleepover didn’t allow you to pack an overnight bag and you didn’t have any spare clothes in his closet. It was rare when he brought you home, and you had never stayed over the whole night. 
Instead of dissecting what any of this could mean, you focused on opening all of the takeout boxes and spreading them around the center table of his living room. You had never tried this restaurant before, but ever since spending some time in Thailand, Yoongi was addicted to Thai food. He ordered dishes that you just had to try, resulting in a lot more food than you were positive you could finish. 
“God, I love that woman, but she drives me crazy sometimes.” Yoongi was walking down the hall to meet you in his living room. 
He was wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, low on his hips, shirtless torso as his neck and shoulders were a little flushed from the hot shower and what obviously was a vexing conversation with his mother. 
“Is everything okay?” you weren’t too concerned, knowing how their relationship had its ups and downs. The two were too much alike to function smoothly at all times. 
“Yeah, she just couldn’t understand why I can’t go to brunch with her, hyung and Chun-hae.” Yoongi sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch at your side. “‘What plans can be more important than having a meal with your family and your brother’s new wife?’” 
You were laughing at his imitation of Mrs. Min, covering your mouth while you chewed and attempted to swallow a piece of duck meat without choking. “If you have plans for tomorrow morning, then maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to stay?” 
“You’re part of the plans.” he told you without hesitating and you swallowed hard. 
“Morning sex is hardly an excuse to skip breakfast with your family.” you pointed out, checking your phone to look at the time. Maybe you could still text Yoongi’s driver to pick you up after dinner. 
“That’s not all– what the hell is that?” Yoongi was staring at you with a deadpan that made you look at yourself, then at the center table you were sitting behind of. 
“Uh… I was hungry, so I started to–”
“No, that in your hand.” his eyes were squinting as you lifted your phone, understanding right away what he was talking about. “An iPhone? Really?” 
“Oh my god, don’t start. The camera is really good in this phone.” you huffed, wondering just how much Samsung was paying him to be this pro-Galaxy. Flipping your phone around, you showed him your case: “Look, I even have your photocard in the back.” 
That made him stop, cheeks flushed, fighting with the corner of his lips to stay down. 
“Still. I’ll get you a new Galaxy.” he stated and you scoffed. “And some D-DAY stickers.” 
“I’ll take the stickers.” 
You scooted a little to the side, patting the spot on the rug next to you for Yoongi to sit next to you, unwrapping the spare chopsticks and parting them in the middle before offering them to him. Yoongi took them with a tired sigh and licked his lips as he looked over the food options. 
While he started to eat, you opened the can of diet coke for him, the noise making Holly lift his head in curiosity, studying you from where he was laying between the TV and the table. 
“Why are you watching a still picture?” Yoongi asked with a full mouth of veggies and noodles, bottom lip shiny with the sauce. 
“It’s not a still picture, he just went to get a drink.” you explained, reaching for the noodles Yoongi had just tried to do the same. “You don’t recognize that room?”
The image on TV was still, you’d give him that, but just because Jungkook wasn’t in the frame. You could kind of hear his footsteps and the clicking of ice as the boy made himself another drink. It took Yoongi a few seconds to realize what you were watching, the Weverse logo at the corner being an easy giveaway. 
“He’s live again?!” Yoongi groaned, making you laugh. 
“He was doing an unboxing of your album.” you told Yoongi, watching him chew in pout. “Which, by the way, why does he get an autographed copy and I don’t?” 
“You said you wanted to buy the album yourself.” Yoongi looked at you as if you just told him the craziest thing. 
“Yeah, because I’m a supporting friend.” nagged. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t accept an extra, signed copy.” 
“Okay, I’ll sign a spare copy and give it to you later.” Yoongi decided, but you were already shaking your head. 
“I don’t want a pity album!” 
“Okay, then I won’t give it to you!” he bickered, taking a scoop of rice and bringing it to you, instead of his own mouth. 
You let him feed you the sweet rice, watching him watch the way your lips closed around his chopsticks as he dragged them out of your mouth. His own cheeks were filled with food, but you would still kiss the shit out of him right now if he let you. 
“Can you make it out ‘to kitten’?” you relented. “And sign it as Agust D?” 
“Sure, kitten.” 
You smiled with a closed mouth, not trying to flash him while you chewed your food. 
Yoongi made a good decision when ordering Thai food as you didn’t dislike anything you tried from the assortment of things Yoongi picked. Now you had one more reason to wish you were able to go to Thailand with him; if it wasn’t for a new clothing line you had to take pictures for, you would have made it, too. It was bad enough that you missed out on his boat rides and snorkeling, now you knew you missed a whole lot of good food, too. 
The two of you ate in partial silence as you watched Jungkook get back into frame with a microphone that had apparently been gifted to him by Spotify, singing a song or two, but mostly talking to his audience. He kept bringing up Yoongi’s concert and you knew he was still beating himself up for messing up the lyrics. 
“Is that all you are?” Yoongi asked, but he was looking ahead, so you weren’t sure he was even talking to you. 
“Hm?” you reached for a napkin to wipe your lips clean, already full just by watching him eat. 
“A supporting friend?” he still didn’t look at you, but your previous words rang back to you. 
You frowned, surprised Yoongi was still stuck on that when you didn’t even remember what you were talking about anymore. But his question, and his small frown, confused you. 
“Aren’t we friends?” you asked quietly as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “Do I not support you?”
“We are and you do.” was his simple answer. 
“Then what’s wrong with what I said?” you wanted to know, but didn’t want to push him in any way. You could tell there was a lot going on his mind right now, the adrenaline of the concert completely gone by now. 
“Nothing, I guess.” he shrugged, resting his back against the couch behind you, pausing the movements of his chopsticks to look at you. “Just feels a little weird to call you a friend when I can still smell your cum on my fingers.”
“What do you want to call me then?” 
Your voice was weak as you rested your chin on your knee, watching his eyes twitch ever so slightly, his tongue poke between his lips to wipe off any leftover sauce. Your heart was betraying you as your stomach felt cold at the prospects of his answer. 
Unfortunately or not, his answer was a simple:
“Guess I haven’t given it much thought.” 
All you could do was hum in agreement, lost in your own thoughts as your eyes moved back to the TV. You couldn’t help but wonder if Yoongi would give it a thought now that it was brought to his attention, or if he’d dismiss it altogether and things would always stay the way they were. 
“I was at hyung’s concert tonight again, he is so cool, isn’t he? Hyung worked hard.” Jungkook spoke up, so much fondness when it came to Yoongi that you wondered if he could be the maknae’s favorite hyung. “Ah, no I wasn’t sitting with Jimin hyung, which is why you didn’t see me. I was, uh– backstage with someone else.” 
You knew you were the ‘someone else’ in question, a small smile arising in your lips at the mention. 
“No, I can’t tell you who it was, stop asking.” Jungkook scolded playfully. “And stop calling me Ian–” 
You laughed at the mention of Ian and Jungkook’s tiny mistake when outing his secret Tiktok account, only realizing Yoongi was staring at you when you felt his burning gaze. It made your neck flush, but you pretended not to notice it. 
“Okay, I’m gonna go now.” the boy on TV started to wave at the millions of fans watching him, just as Yoongi got up to get the half empty takeout containers back to the kitchen. “Please support hyung at tomorrow’s concert too.” 
You turned the television off before Jungkook was properly gone, not really liking the way Yoongi had grown quiet all of a sudden. You picked up the last boxes left behind and followed him into the kitchen, helping him find the correct plastic lids to each one, seeing as he was a little distracted. 
The ping on your phone alerted you of a new text message coming in, both you and Yoongi looking at the device on top of the kitchen island on pure reflex. 
Jungkookie sent you a message, unlock to view. 
You looked at Yoongi in time to watch his shoulders drop as he turned around to throw away the used chopsticks. You always enjoyed the view of his back muscles, the 7 tattoo on his shoulder, knowing you were one of the few to know it was there, but you hated how his head was hanging forward and his posture was slouching. 
“He isn’t wasting any time, huh?” came his voice, even if he wasn’t looking at you again. 
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” you cursed yourself internally; you didn’t have to make Yoongi feel better about this. If he didn’t know what you should call each other, then Jungkook might. If only it was that easy to ignore whatever was bothering Yoongi. 
The man hummed again, in that way that told you nothing. You reached for your phone to read the message: 
Jungkookie: Were you watching the live, noona?
Harmless, just making conversation, making sure he had your right number, perhaps. And then your phone pinged again.
Jungkookie: Are you going to watch hyung’s concert tomorrow again? 
You: Hi, Kookie! Yes, we watched your live. I liked the purple lights in your room. 
You: And I’m not sure I’m coming to the concert tomorrow yet. 
Jungkookie: If you’re not planning on seeing hyung tomorrow, then can we grab something to eat instead? 
Jungkookie: My lights are much cooler in person. 
Maybe he really wasn’t wasting any time indeed. You didn’t know what you were expecting to feel when giving Jungkook your number, but… This wasn’t it. Yes it was exciting and it was nice to be asked out on a proper date, to have someone as cool as Jungkook being obviously interested in you. 
But what would happen if you said yes? Would you end up in his bedroom with the excuse of seeing his cool lights? If it didn’t happen on the first day, what if it happened on the third? Would you even be able to make it to the second date without thinking of Yoongi and what it would mean for the two of you? 
“Everything okay, kitten?” his voice was quiet, maybe a little reluctant. 
You looked up from your phone then, deciding you wouldn’t make any conclusions tonight. 
“Of course, everything is fine.” you locked your phone and put it on silent mode, locking the screen and placing it on top of the island once more. “Should we finish cleaning up?” 
“I already cleared everything.” Yoongi told you and you looked over your shoulder, realizing that all of the trash had already been taken care of and the food was stored in the fridge. 
“Oh.” 
“I lost you there for a minute.” 
Yoongi’s words felt heavy on his chest and he didn’t even know why. 
Or maybe he did and just wasn't ready to properly dissect what he was feeling tonight. From learning Jungkook spent all night keeping you company, to how he asked for your number and you gave it to him, and to how you were obviously texting each other already. 
Yoongi knew of Jungkook’s crush on you, the maknae didn't really hide it; big eyes always so obvious and honest. But Yoongi didn’t think Jungkook would ever do anything about it. Wasn't it against some kind of rulebook? 
Don't mess with your brother’s… Girl? Friend? Fuck buddy? 
Yoongi never felt the need to put a name on what you were to him, what you were to each other. But ever since finding you backstage with Jungkook, it started to nag at him. Was this how it felt to be threatened by someone else? 
"I'm just gonna put Holly in his pen for the night, if you want to go wait for me in the bedroom." Yoongi told you quietly, too scared you might have changed your mind about staying. 
"Sure you don't need help?" you offered, and a little of the weight of the rocks in his stomach lifted. 
"He might get hyper again if he sees you." Yoongi chuckled with a shake of his head, walking around the kitchen to turn a few of the lights that were no longer needed. "They say dogs don't pick favorites but I call bulshit."
"Baby, I don't think anyone says that." 
You had that tiny, shy smile on your face as Yoongi circled the kitchen island, stopping him at the new term of endearment you just used. It made him falter, eyes widening a fraction. 
"I'm usually the one calling you that." Yoongi chuckled, but it sounded more like a wheeze. 
"Oh. Does it bother you?" you nibbled on your bottom lip, but Yoongi used his thumb to set it free. 
"I think I like it." he thought more than that, if he were being honest. 
"I'll be waiting in the bedroom, then." you let him know, raising on your toes to kiss his cheek. 
"Kitten." Yoongi called before you could walk too far, motioning to the device on top of the marble island. "Aren't you taking your phone?"
"I won't need it in there." you shook your head. The only thing you needed tonight was to have Yoongi close to you. "Besides, I assume you don't have an Apple charger?"
"See? If you had a Galaxy, your battery would last for days–" 
"Alright, say goodnight to Holly for me." you interrupted the man before asking if he became a Samsung CEO and forgot to mention. 
At least you could say a bit of the palpable, smothering tension was going away, since you were still able to laugh together. You could tell that leaving your phone behind did something for Yoongi’s mood. You wouldn't dare say he was jealous of Jungkook in any way, not when you knew how he felt about you.
But Yoongi was clearly confused about something, on some minimal level, if anything. Otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned you weren't just a friend, he wouldn't even question it. 
If he didn't realize at this point how much you belonged to him, wordlessly, irrevocably, however unrequitedly, maybe it was about time you showed it. 
As he moved to take Holly to his playpen for the night, you went to Yoongi’s bedroom with an idea in your mind. It was pretty simple, really, no great gestures or a big confession planned. 
But Yoongi was a smart guy and he knew how to read between the lines. If he didn’t understand what you meant, then maybe he wanted to remain clueless;  it would be your own hint that maybe you should let go. 
Your purse was still on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, the chain he wore tonight at the concert was laying next to it. You picked it up and walked to the large mirror on the closet door, unclasping the jewelry before bringing it to your neck. 
You had to fasten it a little tighter against your throat than it was on his, the excess chain resting on your collarbones and reaching all the way between your breasts. You admired how the collar-like chain sat snug against your skin, how the simple fact that you were wearing it, and it belonged to Yoongi, made your breathing grow slow and heavy, dull throbs sparking between your legs. 
You heard Yoongi’s lazy steps as he came down the hall and joined you in the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. 
"Kitten, about tomorrow," Yoongi started, but his next words died on his throat as you turned around to face him. 
"Yeah?" 
You smiled softly, walking closer to him as you watched his eyes flit from the chain around your neck to your eyes, down to your lips and back to the chain. 
Yoongi was almost a head and a half taller than you, way wider with his broad shoulders and chest that narrowed into a surprisingly slim waist. 
In your work field, you saw handsome men every day, you've worked with actors and the occasional idol in brand deals and campaigns in the past, to the point you weren't affected by a pretty face and it took a lot to make you blush or squirm.
And then there was Yoongi. 
So beautiful in every way, the prettiest pouty lips, cutest nose, most honest eyes and golden heart. His hair was parted in the middle, falling softly and shiny around his face, the tips a little curly from being allowed to dry naturally instead being blow-dry. 
"What's this, hm?" his hand reached for the chain resting between your breasts, the back of his fingers gently grazing your mounds, making you tingle all over. 
“Wanted to know what it would look like on me.” you told him as you took a step closer, fingers reaching for his shoulder to absentmindedly trace the faint scar with your thumb. “What it’d feel like.” 
“Looks pretty.” Yoongi stated, hand moving higher as he held the chain and gave it a tiny tug. You swallowed hard, a tiny gasp of surprise following. “How does it feel?” 
“Good.” you looked into his eyes, hoping yours would convey what you were trying to show him. 
Claim me, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. 
Yoongi kept a firm hold on the chain to keep you in place and your eyes fluttered closed just shy of missing his lips break into a side smirk. His lips pressed gently against your cheek, dragging over your jaw, finding your ear. Yoongi took the lobe into his mouth, pulling on it with his teeth as his warm breathing made you melt on the spot. 
“Wanna keep it on?” he asked in a whisper and you pondered if he could hear your heartbeat reply. 
“I do…” you sighed heavily, both hands resting on his chest. “Is that okay, baby?” 
“Anything my kitten wants.” Yoongi’s mouth was making its way to yours, your body trembling with the way he said my kitten. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” 
You nodded as words seemed to leave you at that very moment Yoongi’s arm circled around your waist to press you against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still very much closed as you felt his breath ghosting your lips. Yoongi was still holding onto the chain with his other hand, even when he held your neck and part of your jaw. 
The warmth of his hand was contrasting to the coldness of the chain, his body was smooth and his lips wet when they found yours. You sighed against his lips, melting and turning into a puddle in his hold as his tongue licked between your lips, asking for the permission you easily granted. 
Your back bowed the more Yoongi pressed into you, tongue swirling around your mouth, playing with yours, deepening the kiss as your heads tilted to opposite sides. The moment he let go of the chain, you sucked in a deep breath, some clarity returning to your hazy brain, but it was minimal with the way both of his hands traveled down your back to squeeze and palm your ass. 
His hands slipped under your shirt, kneading your cheeks, pulling your hips harder against his to let you feel the very prominent bulge that already started to form inside his pants. You sighed and moaned softly the higher his touches moved, fiery trails being left behind by his fingertips until you had to part the kiss to allow Yoongi to pull the fabric off your body. 
The chain fell against your chest with a light clunk, making you wince and Yoongi look at you with a small veil of concern. 
“Did I hurt you?” he asked in that raspy voice of his, making you almost forget what the words meant. 
“No, not at all,” you assured him, hands going back to his shoulders as his rested on your ribs, just shy of your chest. “Just cold.” 
“Let me make it warm, then.” 
Yoongi leaned closer to your neck, blown out pupils were the last thing you saw when your eyes fluttered closed and you offered your throat for him to kiss. His mouth opened and closed against your skin, covering it in wet kisses. His teeth worked as hard as his lips and tongue, no doubt covering you in more marks and love bites. 
The man’s hands cupped your tits, squeezing them as his thumbs rolled your stiff nipples, making you moan a little louder and rub your thighs together. You loved everything Yoongi did, how he touched your body, knew when to push you and when to go slower. You felt drunk, even if the only alcohol you had tonight was the shot of whiskey you shared with the artist before he went on stage, and that was hours ago. 
As his lips made their way back to your jaw and ear, you felt yourself tremble at his breathy words:
“Kiss me.” 
It sounded like a request, not an order; almost a plea. One you would do your very best to obey regardless. Your eyes parted as your hands moved from his shoulders to his neck. You had to look up to his handsome face, beauty too delicate, lips too bitten, eyes too perfect, as your difference in height didn’t allow you just to lean in. 
Your lips parted as you reached out for him, chasing for his mouth, breath getting caught in your throat when–
“What’s wrong, kitten?” Yoongi’s tone was teasing, head cocking sideways as you couldn’t move. The restriction around your neck, as Yoongi gripped on the chain, made it impossible for you to reach his lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me? Shame.” 
“Yoongi–” you whined pitifully, hands slipping into his long, dark hair, trying to bring him closer to you, but to no avail. “I always want to kiss you.” 
“Then why don’t you, hm?” the teasing continued, paired with the licking of his lips to taunt you further. “Don’t you want to be a good little kitten for me?” 
You were growing squirmy, trying to reach those perfect, petal colored lips, suck on his tongue, anything, but the firm grip around your throat didn’t let you move up. And then Yoongi gave it a light, downward tug, making your neck sting and your shoulders drop. Looking up at him, you saw a tiny challenge in his eyes and your brain took a little while to catch up to what he was hinting at. And then your eyes widened in what must have been a comical way, as Yoongi’s chuckle warmed your heart. 
“Fucking cute.” he praised, making you even more shy under his stare. 
“Yoongi.” 
Your hands left his neck to hold his sides, trace his curves, as your lips met his collarbones. You might not be kissing his lips, but you’d peck and nibble wherever you could reach. You seemed to have gotten the right idea as Yoongi hummed in content when you dragged your lips all over his chest. 
When you reached his nipple, flicking it with your tongue, you heard him hiss and pull on the chain again, moving you lower on his body. You knew he was sensitive, but never missed the opportunity to make him squirm. 
Yoongi retaliated by not granting you a lot of time to kiss his tummy, barely allowing you to trace the lines of his stomach with your tongue. Your thighs were burning and your back was bent uncomfortably, so the final tug had you dropping to your knees on the floor. The wood was heated, but hard under your knees, but this was a point of view of Min Yoongi you’d never get tired of. 
From this angle you could see the planes of his chest, the sharpness of his jawline, the strands of long hair framing his face as he looked down at you with lowered eyes. 
“Will you let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock?” he nudged and you replied with a nod, hands reaching for the waistband around his hips. “Nuh-uh. No hands, kitten.” 
“But–” your complaint was cut off by a harsher tug of the chain and your lips parted as arousal pooled between your legs, making your underwear stick to your folds. 
“What was that?” 
“Nothing, sir.” you shook your head, bringing your hands under your thighs to make sure they stayed away. 
“Good girl.” Yoongi praised, free hand tapping your cheek hard enough to make it warm, but not enough to hurt. 
God, you loved it when he treated you like this. Like you weren’t breakable, he knew how far you could go. You went crazy for the way he handled you like you were his good little kitten, ready to please him in any way he saw fit, any manner he was in the mood for. And after watching him on stage tonight, acting like a King and looking like a God, you’d give him anything he wanted. 
Body and soul included. 
You brought your face closer to his lower tummy, kissing just under his belly button, licking at the faint happy trail. Your teeth nipped his skin on accident as you tried to bite the elastic band of his pants, but all it did was make Yoongi groan. You tried a few different approaches when trying to use your mouth to get rid of the sweatpants, whole body wobbling as you fought with it, but it was fruitless. 
Yoongi’s hard cock was pointing up, tenting inside his pants, and the elastic band was too tight, slipping back into place one one side when you managed to lower the other. The man was looking down at you with an amused grin, likely knowing this was exactly what was going to happen from the moment he forbidden you from using your hands. 
“Something wrong?” he started again and it took you a lot of self control not to slip your hand between your legs at his mocking tone. “Do you not want to suck my cock, is that it? But you love drooling all over it–” 
You’ve had enough, huffing impatiently and bringing your mouth to his tip, lips wrapping around it over the light fabric of his pants. He cursed under his breath, hold on your chain making your skin prickle as he pulled out of pure reaction. You were looking at him through your lashes as you made sucking sounds, tongue wetting the material; even if none of this was pleasant for any of you, it still got Yoongi moving. 
“If you’re just gonna act like a brat–” Yoongi complained with no real bite, pulling you away from his cock by the metal around your neck. He let go of the chain to use his hands to shove his pants down his hips and thin legs, kicking them away when they pooled around his ankles. “You better be good to me now, open that fucking mouth.” 
“I’m always good.” you offered him an innocent little smile that didn’t really fool him anymore. 
You scooted closer to him again, mouth open and willing, tongue out as you brought it to his cock. The tip of your tongue gave it a couple licks, mouth closing around him as you sucked more and more of him into your willing, wet cave, not stopping even as you felt him in the back of your throat. Your eyes stung with tears from the sudden stretch of having him slipping down your throat with no prep, but you’d be damned if you didn’t shut him up with your deep-throating skills. 
Yoongi had been the one to train you on it, afterall. 
“Show off.” Yoongi cursed, sounding fucked out and raspy. “Behave, kitten.” 
As you pulled off his cock, letting it slip out of your throat, you held back a cough and took deep breaths to allow air to fill your lungs again. You had a wicked little smile on your spit covered lips, a thick string of it connecting you to his tip. You flicked your tongue over it to make it snap, hearing Yoongi’s raspy moan as his weight shifted from one leg to the other. 
He pushed your hair away from your face to get a better view of you, gently tucking it behind your ears before nudging his cock against your lips with a movement of his hips. You slipped your tongue past your lips to kitten lick at his sensitive tip, swirling it around the leaking head, moving lower as you traced a fat vein down to his very base. 
You mouthed at Yoongi’s cock, feeling small twitches against your lips, broad strokes of your tongue making the man tremble as he towered over you. After giving his smooth tip a wet kiss, you kissed down his length, past his base, stopping at his balls. You were looking up at him as you opened your mouth to take one of them into it, giving it gentle sucks that you knew drove Yoongi absolutely mad. His body was starting to collect a thin layer of sweat, trembling hand pushing his hair back and away from his face for the hundredth time tonight. It was a shame your mouth was too full and you couldn’t tell him how stunning he looked at this very moment. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Shit.” Yoongi groaned as you repeated the same action with the other ball, until you let go of it with a loud pop. “Come on now, let me fuck this pretty mouth.”
“It’s yours, baby.” you admitted, hoping he could read between the lines. “All of it.” 
“Yeah?” the man was breathless as his gorgeous hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it up and down, squeezing to find some relief as he let you breathe. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” 
If Yoongi knew what he was doing, he was just plain cruel for playing with your feelings like this. But you still nodded, you still opened your mouth for him. 
“Damn right you are.” he growled, holding his base with one hand and your chain with the other, pulling you close to his cock and slipping it into your mouth. He was lucky you relaxed your jaw as fast as you did, just barely missing your teeth. “Never gonna choke on another cock like this. You’ll never like another as much as this one, right kitten?” 
You moaned around him as a reply, jaw already aching as his hips rolled and pulled back and pushed forward, slowly starting to fuck your mouth, just like he promised. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you rested your hands on his tights; not only were they starting to feel numb, being stuck under yourself for so long, you needed to find some balance. 
“My kitten.” he continued, getting lost in your warm mouth, making spit collect and dribble down the corners of your lips. “Mine.” 
You didn’t know Yoongi to behave this possessively, but you were going crazy for it. If you had half a brain right now, you might have connected it to the fact this was pretty much the first time Yoongi ever had competition, the first time he knew about someone else showing interest in you and it was making alarm bells ring around his head. 
As more and more growls escaped from his swollen lips, the faster he fucked your mouth, slipping all the way to the back, pulling off so your cheeks could hollow as you sucked, licked and slurped at a pace you knew would make him unravel fast. And Yoongi knew it, too, taking a step back to take his cock out of your mouth and holding you in place by the chain as you tried chasing him back. 
“Not gonna cum in your mouth, kitten.” he let you know, but didn’t sound so sure of it himself. “Come here.” 
“Selfish–” was all you managed to say, between the ache on your jaw and your slightly sore throat. 
Yoongi laughed cutely, just a raspy sound coming out in staccato. He helped you back onto your feet with strong, bulging arms, holding you close to his body as he looked at your neck. Despite your little whines of complaint, Yoongi unclasped the chain from your throat. 
“You’re all red, baby.” he told you quietly, breaking his Dom streak for the time being. “Did I hurt you?” 
“I’m okay, I promise.” you sighed, smiling as you kissed his cheek. “I can take it harder.” 
“Sure you can, kitten.” his smile mirrored yours, wet and hard cock resting between your bodies. Yoongi kissed your forehead and looked at your neck again, blowing on it to soothe the soreness. “Will you get on the bed for me?” 
“How boring.” you teased with a giggle, making him roll his eyes playfully. You turned around to follow his request, getting a smack on your ass in response, making you squeal as you ran away from him. 
You were still laughing as you kneeled on the mattress, scurrying all the way to the headboard to sit by the pillows. When you turned back around to face Yoongi, you saw his back as he stood in front of the mirror. You couldn’t help but gawk at his broad shoulders, thick arms, the dip on his spine. His skin was flushed pink, the 7 tattooed on the back of his shoulder was small, but still a beautiful contrast to his complexion. 
Your gaze was shamelessly stuck on his surprisingly round and plump ass when he turned around, saying: 
“My eyes are up here, kitten.” 
“I know, but your ass–” you giggled, but it went away as soon as it bubbled. 
The chain was around Yoongi’s neck again, circling his throat, the end of it still long enough to rest between his pecs. The way he was biting on his bottom lip told you he was a little nervous, which wasn’t something you ever saw Yoongi being in bed. He didn’t say anything else before climbing on his mattress to meet you, the chain swinging back and forth as he came closer. 
Mine, you spoke in your head, wishing for it to be true. Let me claim you, too. 
“Lay down for me, kitten.” Yoongi asked, holding your hips to pull your body down and help you lay on his bed. “Want you like this tonight. Want to see you. Okay?” 
“Anything you want.” you nodded, heart betraying you as you wanted to shy away from the intensity of his stare. “Always. Anything.” 
You sat up on your elbows and took the dangling part of the chain in your hand, gently pulling him closer, hearing his own gasp as you finally met his mouth again. Your legs parted for Yoongi’s hips to fit in between them, heavy and leaking cock hitting the inside of your thigh as he got comfortable in your hold. 
The kisses exchanged were sloppy, deep, mind numbing. You were barely tugging on the chain, just holding Yoongi close as his body leaned on top of yours and your head met his pillow. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently and letting it drag back into place between his teeth. 
One of his arms sneaked between your bodies to part your legs a little wider, taking his cock in his hand and giving a few lazy pumps as he brought it to your pussy, rubbing it up and down to coat it in your slick. 
“Want to feel all of you, kitten.” he groaned from the feeling and the thought, looking at you as he continued: “Can we do it like this? Please.” 
You were sighing in bliss as you reached to push his hair out of his face, gently running your nails through his scalp and smiling when it made him close his eyes. You didn’t always skip a condom, even if you were on birth control every single time you had any encounters like this one. But you knew you weren’t Yoongi’s only partner in the past, and he respected you enough to never ask this of you when he’d been with someone else in a short period of time. 
Despite promising you that he always wore protection with any of them, which you wholeheartedly believed. And maybe you liked to hurt yourself as you asked:
“How long has it been?” you asked, watching him frown in confusion, obviously getting lost in his own pleasure. “How long has it been since you’ve been with someone else?” 
“Too long.” he shook his head assuringly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I wouldn’t ask–” 
“What about Thailand?” you asked him quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. 
“What about Thailand?” he repeated, letting go of his cock in order to cage you in with his arms as this was obviously something you needed to talk about. 
“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” you shook your head, but Yoongi sighed. 
“You always do this. You always pretend things aren’t bothering you when I know they are.” he told you, but his words were gentle and un-accusing. His lips kept pressing against your face, placing small kisses as he said: “Tell me, baby. Tell me so I can ease your mind.”
“It’s just something I heard tonight.” you admitted, as there would be no arguing with him. Your arms circled his neck as you ran your nails behind his shoulders. “One of your crew members was talking about how you brought a girl back to the hotel after the Bangkok concert.”
“What–” Yoongi groaned, as if it was the first time he heard about it. 
“Said she liked the new girl better than me.” you were aware of how small you sounded, realizing you were more upset about this than you previously thought. “Less needy, quieter, doesn’t demand things. All I did was ask her for directions to the bathroom once–”
“Who said those things?” he demanded to know, raising his body on his elbows to properly look at you. 
“Does it matter?” 
“Yes, because if someone on my team has been spilling lies about me behind my back, I’m going to do something about it.” he stated, but it was his next words that sent a thrill through your veins. “No one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”
You could tell Yoongi was getting worked up about this and if the girl really was just talking out of her ass, most likely because she knew you were listening and would be hurt by those words, then Yoongi wouldn’t let it go so easily. But you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night talking about it, or dealing with a stressed Yoongi. 
He had a perfect concert tonight, he deserved to relax. 
In an attempt to soothe him, you cradled his face, running your thumb against his cheekbone, giving his lips small kisses. 
“I didn’t mean to stress you out about this right now.” you told him between pecks. 
“Have you been thinking about this all night?” his eyes were closed, but the lines between his brows were evident. “Thinking I was with someone else like this?”
“Not all night… Only when you weren’t around.” 
“I promise you there were no other girls. For ages now.” his eyes opened to make sure you were listening. There was no way he didn’t hear your hear beating like crazy when he said: “There’s only been you.”
“Did you miss the memo?” you teased, explaining when he frowned: “You’re a rock star on the road, you were supposed to have a different partner every night.” 
“I could have, but no one would ever compare to you.” the movement of Yoongi’s hips, pressing his hard length up and down your folds, was followed by his groan and your moan. “Why waste my time when I got you?”
“Yoongi…” you mewled, squirming underneath him as his cock hit your clit over and over and over again. “If you keep saying shit like that, I’m gonna fall for you.”
“Took you long enough.” Yoongi cried out in pleasure as he kept rolling your hips against yours, hiding his face where your neck and shoulder met, but you could still feel his smile. 
“What–”
“We can talk about this later, but you feel too good right now.” he mumbled a complaint and as much as you wanted to make him say what the fuck he meant just then, you could agree. “I don’t mean to break the moment but–”
“No, yeah, I… Fuck, please.” you spread your legs wider, angling your hips to invite him. “I need you, yeah?”
“Like this?” Yoongi’s body lifted a little so you could both look between your bodies, where his cock was leaking and making an even bigger mess of you. “If you’re not okay with it, I can go get–”
“You’re not going anywhere.” you told him so when grabbing the chain around his neck to pull him back. 
Yoongi barely toppled on top of you again, arms around you as you attacked his lips, needy for a kiss. You took it upon yourself to bring your hand between your bodies, finding his cock so you could stroke him, gently squeeze around his head, tug him a few more times before lining him up with your entrance. 
With a tiny squeeze around his base, you let him know it was okay to move, breathing in a sharp gasp as he moved his hips to press them forward and slip his tip inside your wet, clenching hole. You let go of him, bringing both hands to hold his neck. Keeping up with the kisses was heard, the two of you becoming a mess of tongues and lips the more he pushed forward. 
You were whimpering the more he pushed his cock into you, walls stretching to accommodate him. With one last swift movement, Yoongi bottomed out, kissing your cervix with how long he was, fucking you so deep you forgot how to–
“Breathe, kitten.” he mumbled against your lips, kissing down your throat and collarbones. “It’s gonna feel good soon. Just breathe for me.” 
You did as he asked, breathing hard through your nose and letting it go from your mouth. It was easy to forget all about the pain as Yoongi kissed his way down your body, as much as his position would allow him, looking at you thought dark lashes as his mouth reached your tits. He kissed all over the soft mounds, leaving a trail of heat until his pout found your nipple. 
His tongue rolled around the bud, making it shiny and wet just before taking it into his mouth to give it long sucks that made your back arch. The new movement cause his cock to stir and nudge that sweet spot within your walls and the moan he pulled out of you was sweet as honey. 
"Baby, please." one of your hands slipped deeper into his messy hair, the other was holding onto the chain around his neck. 
"Yes, kitten?" Yoongi grinned as he let go of your nipple just to make his way to the opposite one and repeat the same suction movements and teasing with his tongue. 
"Fuck me." you whispered, trying to move your hips underneath him. 
"What was that?" he asked with an arched brow after pinching your nipple between his teeth. "Couldn't hear you properly." 
Yoongi was a little menace when he wanted to be, making you squirm as you tensed your pelvic muscles, clenching around him, repeating yourself: 
"Fuck me, Yoongi." you begged. "Fuck me good so that you're the only man in my mind. Make me cum so hard we'll have to change the sheets before falling asleep, then wake me up so you can fuck me again, over and over, until your neighbors know whose name I'm screaming–" 
"Fucking hell–" 
A full body shiver raked through Yoongi, a deep breath slipping past his lips as he raised himself on his arms. You missed his warmth instantly, but the view of him on top of you, long chain dangling from around his neck, flushed body, hips snug against your middle, was all worth it. 
Especially when his hips pulled back and you both watched as his cock came out of you coated in your arousal. You could feel every bump, ridge and vein, just like he could feel your walls fluttering around him. Despite being careful when pulling out, Yoongi shoved his cock right back in, both of your moans being almost completely drowned out by the squelching of your pussy. 
“Fuck–!” you cried as your body rocked as Yoongi kept that pace going, brutal and skilled. 
“Look at you bouncing on this big cock, hm?” the man had the audacity to tease you, thrusting time and time again to make you squirm and bounce the harder he fucked you. “So fucking tight, too. My pretty little kitten, stuffed full of cock, sounding like a slut.” 
“You greet your fans with that mouth?” was all the comeback you managed to spill, a hand on his chest and the other holding onto his chain for dear life. You could already see red lines around his neck, but he wasn’t complaining. 
“Yeah,” he gloated, obviously happy with himself. “But you’re the only one who gets to know what else I can do with it.” 
You had to laugh, slightly delirious as you thought about his mouth and just how many times he made you cum in record time using only his lips and that sinful mouth. But then again–
“Actually –fucking hell–,” you sighed, the top of your head just shy from banging on his headboard as Yoongi upped his pace. “Pretty sure you were rapping about your tongue skills tonight as well–” 
“Okay,” he continued, obviously amused about how chatty you were being. “How about you being the only one who gets to experience it, hm?” 
"I'm okay with that." you agreed with a quick nod of your head, clenching and twitching underneath him. "Fuck, baby, you're always fucking me so good– Filling me up all the way. I can't–" 
"Yes you can, take it like a good girl." 
Yoongi must be nearing his end as his thrusts became sloppy and a little less consistent but just as good. You could feel him all the way in your guts, stretching you wide, making you want to scream his name. You only realized you were pulling on the chain again when his elbows bent and his nose was nudging yours. You kept him glued to you, swallowing his every moan, feeding him your own.
Your pussy was clenching like crazy, neither of you finding time to properly breathe as you hooked a leg around his waist. Yoongi pushed deeper and rolled his hips over and over again, hitting all of the good spots, hipbone abusing your swollen clit. 
"Gonna cum, Yoongi, oh my god!" you squealed as you writhed underneath him, steel grip on his chain as your nails from the other hand sunk in on his back. 
"Cum for me, kitten, make a mess for me," he growled like a starved beast, hips pistoning into you with the little bit of stamina he still got. "Good girl, just like that–" 
Your legs gave out as you started to tremble, lower stomach tensing until the band broke and your orgasm hit you hard. Your vision went blurry and your ears buzzed as you creamed around Yoongi’s cock, wave after wave rolling off of you as you went just a little more insane. 
Yoongi’s own orgasm was tipped right after yours, a delicious warmth spreading inside you as his thick cum filled you up so much you knew you’d make an even bigger mess. His chest pressed you into the bed, both of you clinging to each other for dear life. 
Your breaths were heavy, bodies sweaty, sheets as ruined as the two of you were. There were tears in your eyes from the mess of emotions you were suddenly hit with, knowing now that the sex was over, Yoongi didn't need to enchant you with sweet words and empty promises. 
"Did I hurt you, baby?" he asked you with worry, noting your red rimmed eyes, kissing the couple pesky tears away. "I'm sorry if I was too rough…"
"You were perfect. You're always perfect." you assured him, pulling him in for another hug, hiding in his chest. "Just fucking me stupid, that's all." 
That seemed to distract him and you felt his body shaking as he laughed. Yoongi didn't let go of you for a very long time, what felt like ages, really. Until you could both breathe again and the haze swirling around your brain dissipated. 
The idol only let go of you when he could feel his cum start to leak out of you, rushing to the bathroom to clean his softening cock. He got back to you with clean cotton shorts and a damp cloth, insisting on being the one to clean up the mess between your legs. 
You were a little wobbly when you used the bathroom after him, needing to pee, avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands and your face. You looked absolutely wrecked, in the best way possible. 
Your neck was a little purple in spots, both from Yoongi’s kisses and the damned chain. Your hair was a mess that wouldn't be fixed without conditioner or brushing lotion. Your hips had finger marks all over–
"Baby, are you okay in there?" Yoongi asked, already opening the door and making you yelp. 
"Hey! I could be on the toilet!" 
"What if you were?" he scoffed, as if it was no big deal. "I've seen you do worse." 
"Debatable!" you complained in a high pitch. "I can't have one moment to myself?" 
"Nop." Yoongi grinned happily, showing you his gums. He walked to you next to the sink, bringing a clean shirt to put over your head, going as far as pulling your arms through the holes. "You were taking too long and I was missing you." 
If your own blush wasn’t the first to betray you, you could have teased him for his post-sex neediness. 
Yoongi wasn’t looking much better than you, now that the chain had been taken off, his own neck was red and bruised, likely to give his makeup noonas a hard time covering them enough for his concert tomorrow night. There were scratches all over his shoulders and back, hair just as messy as it was at the end of the show. 
He pulled you into his body for one last hug before holding your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom. Yoongi led you out of his room right after, going further down the hall as he dragged you into the guest bedroom, where he had already pulled out the covers of the bed, likely too tired to change his sheets tonight. 
You found a water bottle waiting for you at the side of the bed, happy with the fact he remembered how thirsty you got after sex, chugging it down in almost one chug. Only when you trusted your voice not to waver and you were both lying in bed, with Yoongi pulling you into his arms, you said:
“What about tomorrow?”
“Huh?” he blinked like a confused cat.
“You were going to tell me about the secret plans that involve me and not morning sex.” you reminded him of the subject that was pushed aside when he saw you wearing his chain earlier. 
“I never said no to morning sex.” he pointed out as you laid with your cheek on his chest. His hand was drawing patterns on your arm. 
“Okay, so after the morning sex–”
“Uh. Yeah, there's this new coffee shop that just opened up, and they do american style breakfast.” he started, just a little hesitant. 
“Oh, I love American breakfast!” you chirped, tracing the few lines on his stomach with your fingertips.
His chuckle was cute and endeared. “I know, that's the only reason I said yes to getting out of bed that early when we were in Chicago.” 
“I never woke you up before 11am.” you squinted up at him with a shake of your head. 
“Like I said, early.”
“Okay, well. What about this new place?” you insisted, curiosity getting the best of you. 
“I wanna take you there tomorrow. Check out the place.” he shrugged, but you sat up. 
“Oh, Yoongi…”
“You can say no, if it's weird.” he was nibbling on his bottom lip as he watched you. 
“No, it's not weird, just... it sounds like a hype place, and, well, won’t people see us?” you were worried, despite going out for breakfast with Yoongi sounding like a perfect morning plan. 
Besides the morning sex. 
“Does it bother you?” he frowned, adding: “Being seen with me?”
“Why would it bother me?” you chuckled under your breath, it felt like you were talking about different topics. “I know you like to keep your reputation, so I don't mind–”
“My what?” Yoongi sat up a little higher against the headboard.
“You know… Not being seen with a girl?” you held back the rolling of your eyes. “Isn't that why I can't watch your concerts from the seats?”
“No??” he looked bewildered, as if you were insane.  
“What??” you were the one confused now, a slightly amused laugh sounding incredulous. “You asked me to stay backstage after that Dispatch tweet linked us together…”
“Yeah, because I didn't want it to put you at risk, not because I mind that people saw me with you!” he reached out to smooth your hair, but you doubted that it did anything. 
“Oh.” 
“Is that what you've been thinking all this time?” his head tilted comically and you felt your cheeks burn. 
“Well, yeah?!” 
“Why wouldn't I want to be seen with you, baby?” Yoongi pressed and you opened and closed your lips a few times before deciding on what to say. 
“Because I'm just…” 
“You’re not just a friend.” he stopped you, finally making up his mind. Completely tilting your world upside down as he continued: “And I'm tired of pretending that you are.” 
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sunnebeam · 8 months
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"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."
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A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.
warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)
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Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.
After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.
An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.
"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.
Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.
"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"
The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.
"Shit!"
The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.
"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.
"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.
"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"
And you're out the door.
Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.
"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."
Holly barks.
"Huh? What was that?"
Holly barks.
Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.
"She forgot her lunchbox?"
Holly barks.
"Fuck."
Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.
He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.
But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.
"What's your occupation, sir?"
The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.
"Househusband."
They stare at him.
"What?"
Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.
"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."
They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.
"...Agust D?"
No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!
They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.
"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"
"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.
A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.
The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.
"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."
And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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sailoryooons · 7 months
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Angel | myg (m)
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☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader
☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences. 
☾ Word Count: 15,551
☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end. 
☾ Published: September 3, 2023
☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist
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Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.
She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.
Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night. 
Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it. 
Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property.  Let’s try to play nice and show face. 
Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do. 
Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl. 
“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.” 
“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.
“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”
Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway. 
It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.
Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.
Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts. 
Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer. 
They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right. 
Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him. 
“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”
“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”
“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.” 
“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”
“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”
“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.” 
Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.” 
A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound. 
Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.
When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.
People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top. 
The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well. 
Old Yoongi might not be so impressed. 
Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom. 
The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely. 
Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.
Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck. 
Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone. 
Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal. 
Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house. 
Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced. 
Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly. 
Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.
Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.
Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses. 
His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel. 
Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.
The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops. 
At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning. 
Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients. 
It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store. 
“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”
“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”
“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”
“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”
“Whatever shall we do?”
He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time. 
“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”
“Thanks, Angel.”
“Mhmm.”
His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes. 
Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in. 
Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required. 
In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm. 
Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.
Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you. 
He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space. 
He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too. 
It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work. 
Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms. 
With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room. 
Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time. 
“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.
“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh. 
You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back. 
Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you. 
“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.
“Mhmm. Just a long night.”
“You smell like perfume.”
“Hmm?”
“Like peaches.”
He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”
“Maybe.” 
“Interesting.”
“Not particularly.” 
He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of  your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”
Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.” 
“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.” 
Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for. 
Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning. 
“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”
“Are you a foot person?”
“What if I was?”
You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”
Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.
“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”
“That so?”
“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”
Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability. 
You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly. 
So he does. 
Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly. 
Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you. 
His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds. 
Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees. 
He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no. 
Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs. 
Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead. 
Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it. 
Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.
When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.
This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to. 
There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you. 
“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.” 
“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.” 
He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.” 
A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. 
“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.” 
Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair. 
The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.
Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out. 
“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.” 
He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.
When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.
Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful. 
“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough. 
The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.
“You don’t-”
“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?” 
“Fuck yeah, Angel.” 
Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him. 
Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him. 
“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.
“Give it to me.”
One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching. 
Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home. 
A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier. 
Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.
The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.
Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything. 
There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.
You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love. 
Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day. 
“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”
“I’d sleep in them anyway.”
“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”
“Meh.”
“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”
“Huh. So you are jealous.”
“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.” 
-
Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.
Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake. 
When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be. 
You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time. 
Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.
The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.
A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.
“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.
Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder. 
“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”
“Mhmm.”
“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.” 
With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.
Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it. 
Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth. 
You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have. 
As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to. 
Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself. 
At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.
If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters. 
It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself. 
And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now. 
The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him. 
After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner. 
You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers. 
Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile. 
Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head. 
The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin. 
At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator. 
It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly. 
Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.
While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.
Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away. 
Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning. 
Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.
Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.
You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip. 
He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement. 
Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left. 
-
Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt. 
Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen. 
The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something. 
A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss. 
“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”
You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle. 
Money. This man has money. 
Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately. 
The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either. 
The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.
If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.
“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”
“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”
“Well said.”
Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.
“Do you know where we are?”
You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”
He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”
“You asked a question.”
“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”
“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”
He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.” 
Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.
“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”
“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”
You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”
“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”
You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”
“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”
“To get their cock sucked, usually.”
Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.
Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder. 
“I will fucking kill you.” 
There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.
You need to be valuable. And fast. 
“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.” 
Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest. 
“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”
“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.” 
“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”
“One way to find out, right?”
Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.
Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen. 
Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.
Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life. 
You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.
It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is. 
Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”
You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”
“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”
“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”
“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”
“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”
“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”
“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”
“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”
This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.” 
“Okay.” 
His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.” 
“Okay. I love you.” 
“See you soon.”
-
Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat. 
When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood. 
Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin. 
All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?
Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe? 
Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi. 
“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”
“What?” Yoongi demands.
“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.” 
It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified. 
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering. 
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting. 
“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”
“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”
“He told you where they were?”
“No, she did.”
Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”
“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”
“In front of-”
“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”
“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”
“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”
“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”
Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”
An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.
I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead? 
In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated. 
None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again. 
-
Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.
You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.
It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost. 
You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm. 
At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have. 
Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage. 
It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it. 
You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live. 
The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.
You’re not sure if it’s that simple. 
It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.
Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off. 
Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.
A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried. 
When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined. 
Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.
His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety. 
Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back. 
I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 
Click. Squeeze. Bang. 
You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand. 
A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.
Squeeze. Bang. 
It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels. 
Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified. 
“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”
“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!” 
“That’s it, keep talking to me.” 
It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!” 
Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-
Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.
Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths. 
“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”
“No.”
“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?” 
“I don’t-”
“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”
Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place. 
Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”
You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather. 
When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off. 
“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun. 
“Yes.”
“Then why-”
“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”
“Okay.” 
“Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”
-
A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you. 
It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.
Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home. 
Home. 
The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare. 
Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now. 
Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only. 
The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense. 
So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this. 
Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling. 
The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.
“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”
“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”
“Give me five.” 
When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching. 
Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk. 
Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs. 
Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.
You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle. 
Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.
He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him. 
When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.
He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver. 
Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 
Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good. 
One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good. 
Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.
His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you. 
Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.
“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking. 
He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Hmmm.” 
“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.” 
“Fuck.” 
He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little. 
“Fuck yeah.” 
You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself. 
“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.
“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.” 
“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”
“You do.”
“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.” 
The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”
“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.” 
“Mmm.” 
The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying. 
He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.
A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”
“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”
Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock. 
Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad. 
Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity. 
“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?” 
“Fuuuuck yeah.”
His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.” 
“Shit shit shit shit.” 
You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it. 
The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin. 
For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest. 
“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours.”
“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”
You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”
He pauses. “What?”
“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.” 
“Then why stay there?”
You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and  the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”
“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”
“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”
He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.” 
3K notes · View notes
yoongifis · 1 year
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💌 “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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taintedjeon · 7 months
Text
‘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
➷.𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 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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