You’d spent the entire day flitting between your lovers
Riling each of them up in the way you knew would affect them the most.
You pitted Jin and Jungkook against each other for your affection
You’d spent the better part of the afternoon “subconsciously” stroking Namjoon’s thighs.
You made direct eye contact with Hobi and completely ignored every one of Jimin’s attempts to gain your attention.
You lead Tae on as you ate ice cream while he was working out.
Everything went wrong when you attempted to play with Yoongi.
Really you should know better by now, the rapper doesn’t take too kindly to teasing.
You’d asked him to show you what he was working on.
But instead of sitting still and listening like a good girl, you’d sat in his lap and wriggled.
He’d ignored you to start with, going through the motions of showing you his work.
Unsatisfied with his reaction, you’d leaned back into his shouldered and moaned as if every weight in the world had been lifted off of your shoulders.
You rolled your back against his chest and sighed against his ear.
His hands froze on the keys, and you smiled to yourself, content.
You had intended to take yourself off to hide then, let one (or more) of them find you later to make up for your games.
But Yoongi didn’t let you stand when you tried.
He slapped down on your thigh and held you in place.
You looked at him as innocently as you could manage, seemingly confused.
He didn’t buy it for a second.
“I don’t like naughty girls Y/N.” He stated matter of factly.
He allowed you up, a hand holding your wrist to keep you from running.
“You are going to apologise to each of the boys for distracting them today, but first you’re going to make it up to me.”
You nodded, the tone in his voice warning you not to argue.
“Bedroom princess, Now.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with the authority of a king.
You scurried along to his and Jin’s shared room and sat on the edge of their double bed.
He walked leisurely behind.
Bringing you to now…
He has had a vibrator attached to your clit for 20 minutes now as his fingers play with your holes.
Your hands are cuffed to the headboard with a towel lain out beneath you…
He’d made that mistake before and didn’t fancy Jin’s disapproval all over again.
You were leaking all over his fingers.
Dripping onto the towel.
Making quite the mess of yourself.
It feels too good.
But it is a punishment after all.
Each time you have gotten close Yoongi has changed the vibration pattern and stolen your orgasm away.
He kisses you softly every time.
A sweet gesture from the outside.
A known gloat to those that know him.
He gets off on the fact that you can’t, not without his say so.
The ultimate control.
He dips his head between your legs licking at the slick.
Partially to clean you up, partially to tease you more.
There is no pressure behind his motions, but the promise of his tongue is just so close.
He kisses you again when you are clean.
Pushes his tongue covered in your own juices into your mouth for you to taste.
He stretches his fingers inside of your asshole one more time before pulling back, the thumb inside of your pussy leaving too, making you feel empty.
The vibrator stops and he wipes the remaining dampness off of your legs.
You moan, overstimulated and unsatisfied all in one.
“Aw pretty sounds baby… maybe I should sample you on that track that’s now laying unfinished… a little like you.” He chuckles as he undoes your cuffs.”
You rub at your cuffs and sit up, making sure to flash him your best pout as you do.
“Apologise to the rest of the boys… however they want you and then I’ll finish you off princess.”
Your eyes light up at the permission.
It’ll be easy to get one of the others to finish you off.
“And I’ve already texted them to tell you no.”
His gummy grin is in complete opposition to his evil words.
You sigh a roll your eyes.
“I don’t have to finish you off at all today you know?”
“Sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll go find the others right now!” You launch forward and kiss him on the lips before sprinting from the room to track down your first apology.
this was actually in my draft for the longest time and since I wanna come back, why not start with this. this is just a nice little preview to get all aroused (lol I mean excited) but yeah I hope you enjoy.
This whole chapter is probably gonna be around 1,000 words. so pretty short.
“how the hell do I make a profile?” I turned to Jin but of course, how was he supposed to know. That’s when I heard the robot speak again.
“please download the control application corresponding to my company, ‘BTS’ is available in the Apple store and Play Store” his eyes still glow in a baby blue tint in the room as he repeats his statement over and over and over in a continuous loop like an alarm clock early in the morning. And just like said alarm clock, it became annoying as hell. “OKAY! I GOt it… damn”. He stopped. I picked up my phone from the countertop and opened the app store while Jin so caringly laughed at my frustration.
“It is available for iPhones and androids.” Jin leans over to tell me as if I didn’t just hear it before.
“do you wanna get kicked in the throat Jin?” I threated, Jin steps back with a teasing grin.
Once I downloaded the app and opened it, I was presented with a notification that is was syncing with the nearest server. That"s when the baby blue light in the eyes of the robot morphed into an intense grassy green colour. Jin and I stood amazed, if not shocked, as this experience continued to prove itself more and more- real?
But of course, I am still sceptical of the actual authenticity of this.
Back at my phone, I see the option to ‘Log in’ or ‘Sign up’.
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of past hoseok x reader
summary:Min Yoongi saves a life and then has sex. Is it the best choice? No. Does he do it anyway? Yeah.
warnings: non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug use, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, mentions of past cheating, smut (oral, m and f receiving)
–
Fuck it.
He had to do something. Yoongi stood up, grabbing his phone. His white t-shirt got caught in the chair and he stumbled, cursing at himself. He was a mess already and nothing had happened yet. He grabbed his black sweatpants and yanked them on, opening his door with purpose. Being in limbo wasn’t going to help him, so it was time to take the situation in his own hands. He strode to her door, heart pounding in his chest.
Get a grip, he scolded himself.
He tapped his knuckle against her door, saying her name loudly. Startled by his own volume, he lowered his voice, chewing on his lower lip as he spoke.
“Hey, I want to show you my mixtape. If that’s okay with you,” he finished awkwardly, wincing. He should have thought about what to say. There was a long silence. He pressed his lips together. He was losing his nerve. Each second felt like an eternity.
And then he heard the rustle of fabric. He could sense a form on the other side of the door. For some reason, he lifted his hand and touched the wood, knowing it was the only thing separating them now.
“The song… the song we worked on. I really want you to hear it.” Please.
He heard the lock turn and the door opened. The eyes that looked at him, he would remember for the rest of his life. Bloodshot, giant black pools that threatened to swallow him alive and a sadness he knew all too well. Her hands were stuffed into the sleeves of her huge grey sweatshirt and the matching long shorts made her look even smaller, a tiny thing quivering in her doorframe.
He was tall enough to see past her, into her room. It was a neat room, except for the low table at the foot of her bed. The tabletop was covered in photos that he couldn’t quite see. And in the center was a glass palette.
With ten lines of white powder.
His eyes widened. Panic shot through his veins and he grabbed her collar, inspecting her face, her nose, dragging her into the room. She didn’t even fight him, a dead weight in his hands. Her expression was lifeless, tired.
“How much?” he scowled, “How much did you take? Tell me!”
“I didn’t take any yet,” she replied calmly. Too calmly.
“Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “You’re a drug addict.”
“I am not lying.”
His panic was thinning out into anger and confusion. And then she said it.
“I’m not a drug addict, Yoongi. I’m trying to die.”
He froze.
“W-what?”
He looked down again, at the pictures. They were pictures of two people. She was smiling in those photos, eye bright and reflective with the fullness of life. She looked younger, happier. Her arms wrapped around a young man, who had an equally bright smile, heart-shaped and cheerful.
It was slowly sinking in. He let her go, eyes scanning over the photos. Pictures of them in matching outfits. Pictures holding hands. Pictures of them kissing. He looked back to her and she was staring at the photographs too.
“Aren’t they nice?” She whispered softly. “They’re such nice pictures. He always took good pictures, my sunshine.” She chuckled darkly, an ugly sound. “But photos only highlight of the good times. They don’t show the bad times.” Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. “They don’t show his coke habit. They don’t show me enabling his habit, becoming a runner so he could have easier access. They don’t show me begging and pleading, doing degrading things so he can get another dose.”
Her hands went to head. She gripped her hair, breaking his heart with every word.
“I killed him as much as he killed himself.”
The information hit him like a truck. Speechless, he began to piece things together. The signs were there from the beginning and he didn’t even think about it because he would have never fathomed this in his wildest dreams. Guilt and comprehension hit him all at once. She could have kept the door locked and snorted the cocaine. What if he hadn’t chosen this moment? What if he had waited ten more minutes? She could have overdosed and he wouldn’t have known until days later.
But she had opened the door. She opened the door and let him see.
“What happened?” he murmured quietly.
She threw her hands out of her hair, nails raking down her face and neck. “We had a stupid fight. I told him I would be there to help him detox. We tried,” she wailed, throwing her fists against the wall. “He was shivering and pleading and exhausted. He told me he couldn’t do it. I told him he could if he actually tried and he blew up, telling me I didn’t understand.” Her voice was a panicked ramble as if she was reliving that night. He wasn’t even sure if she remembered he was there anymore. “He kept yelling at me, saying all I had to do was call Seokjin and throw myself at him. I said I was done being Seokjin’s whore just so he could get high. He stormed out, screaming that he would get his own.” She slammed her fists against the wall, screaming into it. The sound chilled Yoongi to the bone. She continued, blind to his presence. “I should have chased after him.” She slid to the floor, knees smacking the hardwood hard. “I should have gone. But I was so tired. I was so tired of it.” Her voice dropped.
“I was tired of him and it haunts me every day.”
He swallowed. It was obvious she had never said this aloud before to anyone.
“Next thing I know, he’s dead because of dirty coke.” She shuddered, arms covering her head. “I handed him a dishonorable death and I didn’t even go to his fucking funeral.”
“Why… not?” he asked softly.
She cackled, a terrible sound. “Why would I go? I never met his family. I was his drug dealer.”
He turned to the pictures. “It looks like you were his girlfriend.”
She finally looked up at him. Her glare was so sharp it could cut steel. “And what if they found out? Mom, Dad, meet my girlfriend who also gives me access to cocaine,” she scoffed.
They stared at each other, but they weren’t looking at each other. She was looking at her own demons, her own past. Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to look into pain in those dark orbs. It took him several minutes before he could speak again.
“You still deal, don’t you?”
Her voice was as distant as her stare. “You don’t get out that easily.”
They stayed like that for a moment. He had to do something. Anything.
Taking a deep breath, Yoongi sat down on her floor. She didn’t turn her head to look at him. Weirdly enough, the moment didn’t feel as alien to him as it should have. Maybe it was because he too had been at this road as well, although at that time he hadn’t quite formed a plan on how to follow though. He didn’t know what he would have done if the resources had been available.
“Do you remember,” he murmured, trying to keep the anxiousness out of his voice. “Do you remember that time where you gave me advice on what to wear for that concert?” He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “You made fun of my clothes and hair back then.”
Her eyes shifted to him. He continued, voice a little stronger now that he had her attention.
“You also brought me chicken that night and left me a note, wishing me well.” He smiled at the memory, holding her gaze now. “I wanted to tell you back then.” He wanted her to know. “Thank you.”
She didn’t laugh. She didn’t make fun of him. She looked a little taken aback.
He scratched his cheek, pressing his lips together before he spoke again. “I couldn’t tell you then, but back then, I really couldn’t afford to eat sometimes.” Without realizing it, he felt his eyes water. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. “Remember that time you were making beef and my stomach growled so loud that you laughed?” He chuckled, a small smile on his lips. “It was a great laugh. I’ll remember it always.”
Her shoulders trembled with uncertainty. “Why… why are you telling me this?”
“Because I didn’t then. And I should have.” He looked deep, deep into those eyes. “I should have said something because I am grateful to you.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“No, you did.” He caught her eye again, preventing her from looking at the ground. “You gave me a chance when no one did and I won’t forget it.”
She was silent. He hoped she allowed herself to understand. He was no knight in shining armor; he couldn’t make her mind see what he saw. It wasn’t that simple and he knew that. He also knew that humans had vices. Humans fell into patterns and they believed in them, even if they were senseless to other people. He was guilty of that too.
She was so close and yet so far. No. She was actually getting closer. Leaning towards him, looking into his eyes. Maybe her eyes weren’t so dark after all. They didn’t seem so dark when she was close like this. Her lips were slightly parted, so full and pink. He didn’t move. She stopped, centimeters from his face. She began to pull back and he grabbed her shoulder, stopping her.
It was a terrible idea. He replied before she could say anything.
“I don’t care.”
He closed the distance himself, pressed his lips to hers. You’re a rebound, this isn’t going to cure depression, this doesn’t discount the fact that she’s a fucking drug dealer – he pushed all those thoughts aside because he did not care. Her hand gripped his shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him roughly. He held her arms as she climbed into his lap, igniting him with wild kisses, stealing his breath. She sucked on his tongue, making him moan, letting him go to kiss his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. His hands slid down her arms, finding her ass and pressing his fingers into the fabric of her shorts.
“Yoongi…” His name like a prayer falling from her lips.
It was wrong, so wrong, but he wanted it so bad.
Her lips pressed against his earlobe, making him shudder. Her tongue laced around his earring, tugging lightly, making him shiver. If it wasn’t real, he didn’t want to know. If it wasn’t right, he didn’t want to believe it. Her teeth nibbling on his ear, making him moan. Her hands slid up his shirt, fingertips against his chest. Such thin hands but they seemed to feel all of him, setting his skin ablaze.
His fingers hooked the elastic of her shorts and pulled them down, dragging her underwear down with them. She kicked them off herself, getting on her knees, kissing down his neck, sucking the sensitive skin. It hurt a little but he barely registered it, cupping her bare skin with his palms.
He whispered her name pleadingly. She looked up, breathless, locking eyes with him.
“You should stop me,” he panted.
One final warning because he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself anymore. One final moment where they could turn back and maybe not do this.
She cupped his face in her hands, pressing her forehead against his.
“I really don’t want to, Yoongi.”
She kissed him, throwing caution to the wind. He reciprocated, sliding his hand up her back. Her skin was so soft, cool against his heat. He unhooked her bra with one hand, attempting to tug her sweatshirt off. She slid out of it, pushing it aside, leaving her naked over him. He looked over her body, scars dotting her skin as thin white lines. Lithe and strong, holding the weight of her past on her shoulders. He licked his lips, pulling his shirt over his head, letting it drop beside them. He looped an arm around her waist, pressing her against him, shuddering as he felt her nipples press against his chest.
“Who knew you were hiding such amazing breasts under those clothes,” he teased, voice low. Her cheeks flushed red and she gave him an indignant look.
He turned them over, putting her on her back. He kissed down her neck, licking her collarbones slowly, tongue dipping in between them. Down the curve of her breast, tongue leisurely teasing the tip of her nipple. She whimpered, one of her hands in his hair. His free hand traced her side, feeling the fullness of her hips. She tasted so good, better than his dreams, better than he imagined. He sucked, enjoying her soft mewls and cries. He dug his fingernails into her hip, holding her down as he flicked her nipple with his tongue. Her hand tightened in his hair, curling the black locks around her fingers.
He stopped, smirking above her nipple. “Is that why you said I would look better with longer hair?”
Her cheeks and ears reddened. Fuck, she was so cute. She spoke, surprising him.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, voice quivering.
He dragged himself up her body, pressing his clothed hips in between her legs, letting her feel his erection.
“I like it,” he drawled, his lips brushing against hers. “Lose yourself to me.” Let me take care of you, even if it’s only in this moment.
His hand ran down her body, grabbing her hips and shoving them against his, grinning as he felt her wetness smear against the crotch of his pants. She moaned, her back arching, a moment he burned into his mind. He kissed down her chest again, tongue lapping her nipples. Her fingers raced up the back of his neck, tangling themselves in his hair once again. He kissed down her stomach, his lips against her soft skin. He could smell it now, the heavy scent of her sex. He spread her thighs wide, fingers dipping into her flesh. He buried his nose into it, moaning as his lips tasted her, stickiness coating his cheeks and chin. A slow, languid lick of her slit made her cry out his name. He teased her lips apart with his tongue, rubbing the tip against her walls. Like honey, her taste coated his senses. He felt drunk off her taste alone. His tongue expertly traced circles around her clit, not quite touching it, but telling her he was avoiding it deliberately.
“Yoongi…” she whined. Her hand pressed against his head, trying to push him down. “Please.”
He brushed his nose against her clit, lifting his head slightly. She whimpered and he grinned.
“Please what?” he purred. His voice was deep with lust. “I want to hear it.”
He couldn’t help it. He wanted to hear her desire for him in words.
She pouted. “Touch my clit.”
He reached between her legs and pressed a single finger against the sensitive spot. She flinched, making him grin. He rubbed, slowly, slowly.
“Like this?” he teased. Her other hand was clutching in the white t-shirt. His.
She gasped as he increased the pace, not moving too widely, but concentrating the vibrations of his hand on her clit. Her hips twisted but he held them down, watching her come undone in front of him, head thrown back as he rubbed faster. Moaning his name, chasing her orgasm.
“Cum for me,” he breathed against her skin. “Cum all over my hand.”
She sank her teeth into her lower lip, stifling her scream as she came onto his hand, liquid coating his fingers suddenly. He immediately replaced his hand with his mouth, licking furiously. It was so intoxicating that he closed his eyes, moaning into her pussy as he lapped up her juices, pressing his tongue against her clit. Her hips bucked and he held her still, feverishly licking the sensitive nub. She gasped, shoving her hips against his mouth.
“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”
He flicked his tongue against her clit mercilessly, holding her thighs apart firmly so she couldn’t close her legs. Her back arched so high and tight he was afraid she was going to snap.
“Fuuuuck, Yoongi!”
His name punctuated her orgasm, hips shaking as she flooded his mouth. He sucked up her juices greedily, sticking his tongue inside her and feeling her walls clamp around his tongue. Sweat clung to his brow and back but he didn’t care. He lifted his head, a perverse satisfaction coming over him as he watched the string of her juices following his chin before snapping.
She lay against the floor, panting, a little hoarse. He crawled back up to her face and she kissed him without hesitation. If this was sin, he would happily go to hell.
They broke apart, his forehead resting against hers, hands on either side of her.
“Yoongi…”
Please say my name again and again. “Yeah?”
“Let me take care of you too.”
She pushed him, gently, and he obliged, taking her hand as she nudged him to standing position. He saw the table out of the corner of his eye but he looked away. She hooked her fingers along the sides of his pants and pulled them down, freeing his semi-hard erection. He looked down at her. She reached up and circled her fingers around his cock, holding it loosely. He felt it twitch at the attention of someone new.
A small smile. She leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against his balls. He shivered at the strange sensation. Normally girls would go straight for the dick. She pressed the flat of her tongue against his balls and licked him all over. His skin erupted in goosebumps, stunned by the pleasure of her tongue wrapping around his balls and taking them in her mouth. He watched in fascination as she looked up at him, balls deep in her mouth and her hand wrapped around his cock.
He breathed her name, amazed.
She bobbed her head up and mouth, slowly stroking him. Saliva dripped down her chin and onto her chest, sliding down her breasts. He could see precum leaking out of the head and she casually spread it around with one finger, making his knees weak. He moaned as she removed her mouth from his balls. She guided him to her mouth, holding him in place as she ran her tongue over the head. He shut his eyes, seeing stars.
“Shit, I’m going to fuck your face at this rate,” he hissed.
He heard her small, “Heh.” And then she engulfed him with her mouth, hot, wet, lips tightening around his cock as she took him in. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. She went deep, so deep the head pressed against the back of her throat. He didn’t know how she had the skill to go so deep and, honestly, he didn’t want to know. She sucked him slowly, but each time she went down, the head of his cock scraped the roof of her mouth, increasing the sensitivity each time. He kept his hands flat against the wall, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. One hand held his cock steady as the other cupped his slippery balls, smearing the saliva all over them.
It was so wet, so hot that he was sure he was going insane.
She sped up, sucking harder. Groans tore from his throat, legs shaking from the intense pleasure. He tried his best to keep his hips still, not wanting to accidentally choke her and cause her to stop.
“F-fuck me,” he moaned, feeling her tongue wrap around the head and her lips tightening around him. He couldn’t think straight anymore. He gasped her name and shot his orgasm into the back of her throat, sensing her hands releasing him suddenly. They gripped his thighs as she swallowed, the sound so audible and obscene that his cock twitched with desire despite being spent.
They stayed like that for a moment, her tongue gently encircling him. His cock left her lips with a soft plop, lips shiny with saliva. He slid to the floor, their clothes a mess around them. His chest heaved with effort. She was breathing hard too, staring at him.
He licked his lips and leaned in, kissing her gently. She clung on to the kiss, inhaling his scent.
When they broke apart, they locked eyes, the obviousness of their inappropriate moment hanging between them. He was a little ashamed, sitting naked in her room, having sex after what was almost a suicide attempt. He was still breathing hard, heart beating fast from anxiety and arousal.
He wanted to hold her. He wanted to give her everything and more. He wanted to be the light in her eyes, but that was a foolish thought, a pipe dream, and a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.
Still, he wanted.
But somehow, those eyes didn’t look so dead anymore. Somehow, they were really looking at him, not just through him. She wordlessly scooted towards him and placed her head against him, ear against his chest. He wrapped her arms around her protectively, resting his head on her hair. From this position, he could see the sun tattoo that was underneath her left shoulder blade. Behind her beating heart. It was a simple tattoo, a circle with dashes around it. He traced it with his fingertip absentmindedly. He could guess who it was for.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. Held him like she was never going to let go.
➬ Summary | With love, comes challenge. Especially when you are in love with the one man who is at the top of the world while keeping you on the other end.
➬ Genre | Artist/Music Producer!Yoongi, Established relationship!au, Angst, Fluff, Smut
↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature
↳ Warning | possessive Yoongi, a few events of jealousy, multiple smut scenes, implied public foreplay, clothed foreplay, dry humping, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, breast play, biting, clit play, hair pulling, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, self-masturbation (female), clothed sex, car sex.
↳ Word count | 22k words (I’m sorry for this T^T)
↳ Cross post | AO3|Inkitt (coming soon!)
↳ Music companion | Little Do You Know-Alex & Sierra | Youth - Daughter
➬ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @minyoongail. | Thank you for giving me a chance to write for Yoongi again. Forgive me for the long wait. I hope you’ll enjoy this story.
THEN…
From the very first night you met Min Yoongi, you were instantly drawn to him.
To describe the moment perfectly, you could easily say that it had happened exactly the way wise people would describe this kind of attraction; that you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
It was an instant pull, the kind of attraction that you had never once felt for another person before. Not to the boys you have dated through college, not even for the hot specimen of a male sitting right next to your cubicle at the office you were attending through your internship.
To this day, you could only faintly recall the events which had led you into getting dragged along to the uncharted territory where Min Yoongi existed. It was Friday night, right on the weekly scheduled night out that you would spend with your friends, when the hours were getting late and the dive bar that you had frequently gone to each week felt too cramped and dull with all the men in suits who came in for a seemingly boring company party while acting like they owned the place.
“It would be fun,” you remembered one of them said as she suggested to try hopping into a different club instead of ending the night early.
Sooooo… i held off as long as I coukd coz i know its going to hurt. I read the teaser so i have an idea how much it will hurt. To be fair to the reader, we all have these kind of thoughts even if you’re not dating a renowned music producer. Its a given in any relationship, and i feel her with her struggles - the feeling of inadequacy, the sort of “power dynamics” (him being famous while her “normal”), the inner monologue of telling yourself that he loves you and that he’s faithful.
My chest was so tight the whole time i was reading this, up until the interview with Yoongi. After that i released a very huge breath. This is such a beautiful story, the way Yoongi makes it up to her with words and deeds, trying to prove to her that she’s loved and there is no one else.
It takes hard work to keep any relationship to work and this story is such a gem coz it gives you hope that there is happy ending.
⏤ genre: established relationship, fluff, and smut.
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ warnings: swearing, petnames, some jealousy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, and creampie
⏤ words:2,126
⏤ summary: when yoongi decides to get married in vegas after all the fan’s comments on the vlives.
⏤ author’s note: do i even need to explain why i’m posting this? the thought of yoongi getting married is driving me crazy so here you have this little fic & i hope you’ll enjoy it, angels
Yoongi is sitting on a chair, his fingers easily peeling a tangerine. Your eyes hungrily watch his hands, his hot hands with his popping veins. Those same hands that have driven you crazy enough and that have made you cum countless times.
Although he seems pretty okay on the outside, you know he’s sad to not have won a grammy tonight. He’s been dying to win at least one with BTS, but it always seems something out of reach. No matter what you say right now, you’re aware that it can’t push away the disappointment in his heart. But you know that all the upcoming scheduled shows will ease him. There’s nothing more important to him than being with his fans.
As you think back on the vlive they had a couple of minutes ago, a silly smile appears on your face. The boys always bring out the comments of fans asking yoongi in marriage. It has always made you smile and you have teased your boyfriend tremendous times about it. He’s never been up to the idea of getting married, and you’ve been totally fine about it since you don’t want to get married as well.
Both your parents have been asking for years when you’ll get married because you’ve been dating this vigorous tangerine eater for seven solid years. Of course, it has never been a secret to anyone that a wedding isn’t on your plans but your parents don’t care, they keep asking when you’ll ‘officially’make Yoongi their son-in-law.
“I saw the vlive,” you start saying. “ARMYs are desperate to get married to you.”
His eyes move from the tangerine that he’s eating to you. The man has been dating you for long enough to know that you’re about to tease him, and he’s eager to hear what you’re going to say.
“There are comments like that about all members, not just me,” he nonchalantly replies.
While staring deep into your eyes, he brings a portion of the tangerine to his mouth to eat it. Tonight, with still his black outfit from the grammys on, everything he does makes him look hot as fuck. Even after all those years with him, you can still find him extremely attractive. Well, for the past seven years, you’ve been doing your utmost to keep the flame between you very much alive. So yeah, Yoongi still looks as handsome as he used to at the beginning of your relationship, or maybe even more.
“But the comments ‘Suga, marry me’ always pop out,” you purposely say while you readjust yourself in the king-size bed of his hotel bedroom.
A little smirk grows on his face as you speak.
“Are you jealous?” he raises an eyebrow with that devilish smirk plastered on his face.
“Me, jealous?” you point a finger to yourself while you shake your head. “Why would I be jealous?”
Obviously, at first, you were jealous of all the other girls in his fanbase, and sometimes, you still are, even though, you perfectly know that you have nothing to fear. Yoongi loves you, you’re sure about it and he also made it very clear. But sometimes, you’re simply jealous of the fact that the fans get to see him more often than you do.
However, right now, you’re far from being jealous. You got to come with him to Vegas to be around for the grammys and their four shows, and you get to spend a lot of time with him for several days. So, you absolutely have no reason to be jealous.
“You tell me,” he replies.
Yoongi eats the last part of his tangerine, his eyes devouring you while he waits for your answer. You roll your eyes, annoyed by his words and actions.
“I’m not jealous of fans begging to get married to you,” you tell him. “I know I wouldn’t have to beg to have you walking down the aisle,” you add.
At your words, he almost chokes with the piece of tangerine in his mouth. That was very daring of you, he wasn’t expecting those words to come out of your mouth, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like.
“Come here, honey,” Yoongi says, patting his lap.
Without any hesitation, you stand up from the bed and quickly walk to him before sitting on his lap.
“Let’s get married then,” he whispers in your ear. “We’re in Vegas, we can get married in a drive-thru and divorce tomorrow if we regret it.”
Your body completely freezes at his words. You weren’t expecting him to actually suggest getting married because between you two, he was the one making him very clear that marriage was out of the question. Plus, he knows how little you want to get married.
“Are you okay?” you ask with concern.
He nods before pressing his lips against yours for a passionate kiss. Yoongi has been craving to tell you how these constant comments have slowly changed his mind about marriage. Yes, he didn’t want it because, since day one, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life with you, and marriage would never change anything about it. But now, that the comments have been coming out a lot, he’s been thinking more and more about it.
Nothing would ever bring more happiness to him that hearing people calling you “Mrs. Min”. The idea of calling you his wifey has been haunting him more than a bit for the past few days. Everything about being married to you has been enchanting him more than he’d like to admit.
“I’ve changed my mind about marriage,” he says when he breaks the kiss, “and I want to be your husband.”
You cup his face in your hands, your eyes roaming his face to find anything that could scream the opposite of what he’s saying right now. But all you can find in his eyes is a little sparkle, one that appears on certain occasions. It’s the kind of sparkle that lets you know how deep the words he’s saying mean to him.
There’s no doubt to you that he definitely wants to get married, and since you’re in Vegas, a place where you can easily get divorced tomorrow, you want to do this crazy thing with him. Plus, it could be a fun memory to get married in Vegas.
“Then, marry me, Yoongi,” you say with the brightest smile on your face.
The man smiles back at you before smashing his lips against yours. Right now, nothing else can bring more happiness to him. BTS didn’t win any award but man, his girlfriend wants to marry him in Vegas, the last place on earth where he ever would think he’d do that. He always envisioned getting married in Korea with his entire family with him.
While you kiss, you start grinding on his lap, making it extremely clear to your boyfriend that you definitely want more. A moan escapes his lips, a proud smile appearing on your face, but you never stop moving your hips against his.
“When will we do this marriage?” he asks while he holds back as much as possible his moans.
“Whenever you want,” you reply.
If he wants to get married now, you’ll do it without any hesitation.
“Let’s have sex now, and then, get married,” he suggests, and you simply nod.
Before you even comprehend what is happening, Yoongi is pushing down his pants and underwear, and your dress is pulled up. His long fingers put aside your panties while his other hand strokes his cock. Your hungry eyes are glued to his mouthwatering dick and what he’s doing is definitely turning you on.
The mere thought that after this steamy sex session, you’ll get married is completely wild. Out of all the people, you were sure you’d be the one who would never get married because it was never a thing you were attracted to. On top of that, your boyfriend didn’t want it to so in your mind, everything was settled. You’d grow old with Yoongi without ever getting married.
However today, you’re getting married.
A desperate whine leaves your lips because you badly want to feel him inside you. Seeing his cock and imagining all the dirty things he can do to you is enough to have you craving for him.
“Always so needy for my cock,” he whispers in your ear.
A flirtatious smirk arises on his face as you place one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself while he holds his cock still.
“Always,” you smile as you sink down on him, eyes rolling back into your head as he fills you up.
The two of you moan together when you push yourself down on his cock, Yoongi loving the warmth of your walls around him while you enjoy the stretch. Sex with him was pretty wild at the beginning, you both couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves, but with time, things naturally slow down. He has a pretty busy schedule, you work also a lot, and when you’re finally together, you don’t think first to have sex. You simply enjoy the moment and discuss your lives.
However, when you’re in the mood for it, it gets pretty intense and hot because it always feels like the last time you shared such an intimate moment was years ago. It’s a very dirty moment where the two of you connect again. But today, this moment is about sharing a last steamy session as boyfriend and girlfriend, but it’s also about celebrating this new chapter that you’re about to start.
“You feel so fucking good!” he groans. “You could make me come just with this feeling.”
Never leaving his dark orbs, you move your hips, starting to ride him. This time, there’s definitely something in his eyes that you can’t quite explain, but he seems happier than ever.
“You ride me so well, honey,” he groans.
His words make you grin, proud of all the delight you’re giving him. You buck your hips faster, wanting to make the both of you come as soon as possible. Although you really want to enjoy this moment with your boyfriend, you’re actually pretty excited about what is going to happen next.
“You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Yoongi whispers in your ear while he watches you humping on his cock.
The sound of slapping skins combined with your moans quickly fills the hotel room, and you’re pretty much convinced that the boys know by now that you’re having the ride of your life. But you honestly don’t give two shits about it since all you desire is to have an amazing moment with your soon-to-be husband.
To savor this moment, you close your eyes while you enjoy riding his cock. Unintentionally, you clench your walls around him, his eyes rolling back at the action. He loves it when you squeeze him with your tight walls. When you slowly grow tired of bouncing on him, he starts to thrust up at you.
“Oh my god, Yoongi,” you moan loudly.
Quickly, the pace of his thrusts quickens, his cock shoving deeper inside you, and your boyfriend shows you absolutely no mercy while thrusting into you. But it feels so damn good. Your walls clench around him again to snatch a hot moan out of him. Sooner than you thought, you feel a familiar wave of pleasure building inside of you.
“Inside you?” Yoongi asks when he’s about to come, and you nod, wanting to have his cum inside you.
His dick twitches inside you while he keeps thrusting into you at an erratic pace. You clench around him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, and your boyfriend keeps growling when your pussy clenches around him.
“Come for me, Yoongi,” you whisper in his ear.
Your sweet words are what he needs to have him coming inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible. Your nails dig on his shoulders, biting down your lower lip while you stare into his darkened eyes.
This feeling of his hot cum filling you is incredible and it makes you see stars. You can feel the stickiness he’s creating inside you. You quickly follow him when you reach your own orgasm. Yoongi keeps grinding your ass on his cock to fill every part of your walls with his warm semen.
You bury your face on his neck and nuzzle his strong scent while panting hard as you calm yourself. His huge hands stroke your back as you both try to come down from your high.
“Now, let’s get married, Yn,” he whispers in your ear.
Ok, so I’m just speaking for myself when I say this but, I really want to start writing again. I haven’t been able to write as much as I want to because of work and school. I’m currently taking a break from school but I’m working full time.
I am going to start posting on this blog again but I’m also exploring the idea of doing personal stories for people for like $5 or $10. It’d help me out so I would have to work as much. I don’t know if people even still follow the activity on this blog or if they would even want that but I figure I’d put the idea out there.
Also, I want to start fresh. I will still be trying to do some of our old requests but I am going to be taking me ones!
I’m gonna put my Line (sydneyalysha) and kakao talk (larryisme) on here because our inbox is so full that I’m not sure what is new and what is not. So just message the blog in a private message or message me personally. Thanks!!
⤞title: mu$ic fairy ⤞pairing: rapper!yoongi x podcaster!female reader ⤞genre: angst | smut | pwp ⤞summary: When Yoongi’s career started to kick off, he never imagined he’d have a secret admirer this early in the game. Sure, random women throw themselves at him all the time, but this one has a different approach when it comes to getting his attention. ⤞teaserword count: 0.4k ⤞teaser warnings: swearing | sexual tension | sexual references | mature themes ⤞rating: 18+ ⤞a/n: So, I literally just finished the last scene for this and I wanted to share a teaser to celebrate because this is going to be one of my favs. This is unedited, straight from the doc so please don’t judge me lol. For one time only until I return, I’ll be opening a taglist for this fic. You may click here to join(18+), but please only join if you plan on reblogging and/or leaving feedback. Thanks! I hope y’all enjoy this one. Release date is Friday June 10th @ 8pm cst.
He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.
“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your glossed luscious lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in.
He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it.
“Why tonight?” he asks you.
You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.
“Because…I’m horny, and tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.”
He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—
“Actually, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.
“And what might that be, love?”
Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.
Notes: Hello & welcome to sabotage, my second ever series here on my blog. This story feels extra special to me, since it is widely based on my life, and my experience with this boy, and I thought Yoongi would be perfect to play the part. I hope you enjoy & please don’t forget to give me feedback if you’d like to!
The music was thumping as the world around you was spinning. Happiness. Happiness is what surrounded you. The distant chatters and laughter emerging from all around you. Summer had just begun and you were celebrating the end of another school year with all of your closest friends. From your current vision, it was safe to say you were past the state of being just tipsy, now being drunk. Playing irresponsible for tonight was allowed, there was a reason to celebrate. You got through another year filled with school work and stress, even if your grades did start to slip. Irresponsibility seemed to be your new lifestyle, since you weren’t even phased one bit about you barely passing your classes. Long gone was the goody-two-shoes, who always complained about school work, but ended up studying the hardest anyways. This year you turned into a person, who said “fuck school work” and meant it quite literally, by not just throwing the books into the corner whenever you felt like it, but by not even bothering to open the books in the first place.
“Y/N we’re going to watch Hyun-wu jump into the water from the divingtower, are you coming?” Your best friend’s voice came from your side. “Is he crazy? The water is freezing, the ice has barely melted!” You questioned. “You know he is a show off already, look he has gathered quite a crowd around him”, Ji soo responded gesturing towards the shore. She was right, Hyun-wu was standing in the middle of a crowd of people, currently stripping off his shirt. “I think I’m good”, you ended up passing the chance of seeing him possibly embarrass himself legendarily, by belly flopping into the water, but you couldn’t care less. Everyone out of this town was basically worshipping him, he was the picturesque type of guy, straight out of a 90s romcom or something, and he knew it. That’s exactly what turned you off, he was arrogant and took every girl for granted. It was almost like it was obvious to him that he could make any girl swoon. Ji soo nudged your shoulder friendly, before telling you to take care of yourself and disappearing into the crowd. You were at a huge park surrounding the beach, the sun was hanging low, ready to dip behind the skyline and painting everything a beautiful shade of orange. It was a tradition for all of the students of the city to gather into this specific park every year and get wasted. It was the place to meet all of your mutuals, who had went to different schools after graduating from high school. You were sitting in one of the park’s wooden tables all by yourself, before you saw a bunch of random dudes scooting in to sit around you in the table. You decided to finish your drink as soon as possible, before getting up, but were caught off guard when suddenly someone spoke up.
“Excuse me, do you happen to have a lighter?” You looked beside you to see a pair of dark eyes looking directly your way. You quickly dug through your pockets, and tossed over the spare lighter you always kept in your pocket, incase you’d ever need it. You didn’t really ever use it yourself, since you didn’t smoke, but having one at parties was practical since there would always be people looking for one. “Thanks”, he responded dully. You took your time to take in the sight of the people who had just joined you at the table. It was four surprisingly attractive looking guys, who were in the middle of rolling a joint. The sight wasn’t anything unusual, since most of your friends smoked weed every now and then. The one who had asked you for the lighter really stood out of his friends, who all wore mostly black, since he was wearing a bright red oversized bomber jacket and had a red bandana wrapped around his light blonde hair. You were studying the stunning details of him, noticing how focused he was on rolling the blunt with his ring clad fingers. He was extremely handsome, and you were wondering how come you have never seen him before. He and his friends got up, after rolling a couple of joints, before his eyes suddenly landed on yours. You quickly fixed your gaze towards the drink on your hands. “You want a hit?” He asked you with his low voice. “Offering me your cheap weed? Real classy. But no, I don’t need a hit”, the words slurred out of your mouth as your brain failed to keep up. Your eyes widened when you realized how bluntly you had just spoken, for no reason at all. He just chuckled, seemingly unphased, before responding: “Okay” and turning away from you. You watched his back furthering from you, before yelling back: “Okay then, I’m coming” and running after him.
You walked into the forest surrounding the park, and were making your way deeper into the woods, before suspicion started to rise. “Why are we going in here to smoke? Are you too scared to smoke in the park?” You asked. His friends exchanged amused looks and he scoffed. “Can’t risk getting caught”. You were bewildered that a man as tough looking as him, would be so scared of getting caught smoking weed. Sure, it was illegal and over all dumb to smoke, but the cops never really did anything if they saw somebody smoking, so it was completely fine to do it in the park. “Why? That’s ridiculous”, you questioned. He ignored your question and stopped on his tracks to light the blunt. Soon all of the guys were inhaling their blunts in a circle, the puffs of smoke hitting your face. “Why did you follow us in here if you think it’s ridiculous?” He asked turning to face you. You scoffed trying to snap back, but didn’t actually know what to respond, since you didn’t exactly know why you’re here either. It definitely wasn’t for the weed, you couldn’t care less about getting stoned, but if it meant you could do it with four handsome strangers, you would do it. The new you would do it. It was part of your irresponsible summer, take chances and explore the unknown. Previously you would have never even borrowed that lighter in the first place. Who knows what would come out of this, other than you becoming high. “Because, I want my lighter back”, you eventually gave him his answer. A lie. “I could’ve just dropped it back to you, but sure”, he said and put the blunt in front of your face, offering you a hit. You looked at it for awhile, considering if you should do this at all, but let him place it between your lips and inhaled. It came out quickly as you started coughing, causing the boys around you to snicker. You couldn’t really feel any difference on your state, since you were already drunk enough to numb your senses, so you took the roll off his fingers and took a proper hit yourself. He slightly raised his eyebrows in surprise, but bit back the smile forming in the corners of his lips. You passed the blunt back to him. “How could I trust a stranger, I don’t even know your name”, you finally responded, feeling a bit light headed. “Min Yoongi”, he responded before smoking the rest of the blunt in one go.
Your way back from the woods was a blur, all you could remember was stumbling on the branches and bumps on the ground. You had judged your strength poorly, since you were no longer just drunk, you were hammered. Yoongi helped you stay up, and you were sure he was annoyed to have to look after a random girl. Eventually you found back to your friends and ran back to them quickly, to explain what just happened, missing the look on Yoongi’s face when you just left him without saying a goodbye.
Summer had not been as exciting as you had expected it to be, once reality started settling in. Most of your friends started working their summer jobs and since you didn’t get one, your days were filled with nothing but free time. Few weeks back you could have killed for a few hours of no worries and nothing to do, but now it became boring. You had decided to go roam around the heart of the city, to waste some time before your friends will get off work. Your yellow floral dress was flowing as the soft summer breeze was blowing around the streets. You raised a hand to cover your eyes from the sun, what should you do today?
Your hand was smeared by the icecream that was melting in a furious pace from the cone you had just bought from a small cafe. You didn’t bother to clean it up quite yet, since there was no use for the hand anyways. You had already visited every possible clothing store and walked every single street and path you could take. The hot summer air was starting to tire you, and your effort of cooling down with the icecream certainly wasn’t working. You were currently sitting in a park, under the shade of a big tree. You watched the people pass by in their shiny cars, everyone looking so happy as the soft summery tunes playing on the radio slipped past the rolled down windows. Oh how you wished you could do that all summer with your crew. These were the cons of adulthood, consequences. You had always thought there would only be freedom once you turn 18, but it only gave you more responsibility. Responsibility you weren’t ready for. You wiped the sweat running down your forehead with your spare hand. It was getting a bit too much, you needed a cold shower right now or you’ll pass out. You made your way back to the train station to hop on the first one going home.
Once you took a seat at the (luckily) air conditioned train, you let out a long sigh. Your train ride took approximately 20 minutes, so only 20 minutes more and you’d be under that shower in no time. Your mind started to drift off as you leaned your head against the window. The train stopped and you watched the bunch of people getting in from the sun. Your eyes stopped as you spotted a familiar face in the middle of the crowd. Min Yoongi? You had not seen him after the encounter at the festival, you weren’t even sure if he’d remember you anymore. Oh fuck, he is getting in through the door right next to you, what if he spots you? Do you say hello, or ignore him? Your questions were answered when his eyes brightened up when he saw you sitting by yourself. “We meet again”, he said as he sat right in front of you. You gave him a shy smile. “Sorry if I was getting on your nerves the last time”, you apologized to him. “It was cute”, he slightly chuckled. Cute? The often awfully emotionless Min Yoongi called your drunk behaviour cute. You felt him grab your hand, as he pulled something out of his pocket. Blush was creeping in, but before it was too visible, he placed the lighter you had forgotten about in your hand. “Oh”, was all you managed to let out, before thanking him. “I told you I’d return it. It seemed important to you”, he folded his arms across his lap. It wasn’t, you couldn’t give less fucks about a simple lighter that you never happened to use yourself anyways, but you recalled how it was the only reason you insisted on following him to the forest, so you had to keep pretending like it was. “Yeah, my life depends on this”, you responded sarcastically. He gave you a half forced smile, which made you feel uncertain about where this train ride will lead to. You knew nothing about the man sitting right across from you, so how could you keep up a conversation for the remaining 15 minutes before your stop would come? “Where were you?” You broke the current silence. “Huh?” He mustered. “Before you came in this train, where were you? I assume you don’t live in this area”, you continued. “Oh, I just had some businesses to take care of”, he answered, “How about you?” “Just killing time in the city”, you responded. “All by yourself?” He scanned your surroundings. “Yeah, all my friends are busy working”, you answered brushing a loose hair behind your ear. “Come hang out with me”, he suddenly requested. You felt your eyes widening. “Right now?” “Yeah, let’s get off the next stop and hang out”, he suggested as both of you turned to take a look at the name of the next stop on the screen above you. It was a random stop, that you have never even taken note of, since no one ever really got off or in from it. “What would we even do in there, I’m pretty sure it’s in the middle of nowhere”, you laughed. “We’ll figure something out”, he smiled. You paused for a moment and glanced at the name of the stop again. “Okay”, you finally agreed. “Okay?” He made sure you meant it. “Okay”, you laughed again.
Once you got out, you were greeted with the hot sun again, this time it was luckily a little less burning, since it was starting to go down. Both of you looked around, when the train finally left your sight. It was mostly fields and some trees framing the sight. He started making his way off the platform to walk on the lonely road leading into the distance. You followed right next to him. After walking in silence for awhile, he started the conversation with you. He told you about his day, and you were surprised how he was willing to tell you even the silliest of details, even though you never asked for them. “What was the business you were talking about in the train?” You asked him. “Just some things I had to take care of”, he responded looking back to you with one of his eyes closed since the sun was shining right at him. “What type of things?” You questioned further. “Had to beat up some guy, he didn’t pay back to my friend for the weed he had leached off of him”, he calmly explained. You rolled your eyes, of course he had to be a part of something as stupid as the weed business. “Wow”, you just responded with a sarcastic tone. “What? Not impressed?” He laughed. “Not one bit. Why did you have to interfere, couldn’t he stand up for himself?” You asked. “It wasn’t safe for him to show up there. He’s had some issues with the other guy’s gang before”, he explained. You just went silent, not wanting to give him an answer, since you’d only scold him. You knew he already knew how dumb it was. “Really, I never beat people up for fun. Only if they hurt my close ones”, he continued in attempt to assure you. You just nodded your head. “Well my day was just as interesting as eating ice cream can get”, you decided to tell him. He chuckled, “I like that”.
The two of you ended up finding an old park, with a nest swing that could fit at least four people on it. He lazily hopped to lay on it as you watched from afar. “Are you not gonna join me?” He asked. You just furrowed your brows at him, signaling that you’re not gonna fall for his charms that easily. You walked up to the swing and gave it a push. He was laying there with his hands folded under his head, looking up to the cloud free sky. You pushed the swing more and more, until it was starting to catch up a pace. “Don’t”, he suddenly said as you were about to push more. “Why not”, you asked him. “I’m gonna get nauseous”, he said sitting up. “You get nauseous off of swings?” You laughed teasingly. “Yes, now stop the fucking ride”, he said in a sudden serious manner. It only fueled you to tease him more and push the swing even harder, until he was screaming. You laughed when you finally hopped on the edge of the swing to stop it. “Jesus, and here I thought you weren’t a wild girl”, he scoffed. “Huh? Who said I’m not wild”, you laughed as you got on the swing to sit next to him. “Are you?” He threw back a question. “Yeah”, you said biting your lip in a cocky manner. “Okay prove it”, he challenged. “How?” You asked. “Climb on to that tree over there”, he said pointing out a medium sized tree. “How is that gonna prove anything? I can be wild, but I’m also clumsy”, you scoffed to him. “Okay, loser”, he said raising an eyebrow. It caused you to open your mouth in offence and you got up the swing to run up to the tree. You managed to climb onto the first big branch hanging from the side of it after struggling for awhile. You raised your hands on to your sides and waved them. “There”, you yelled at him. He clapped his hands slowly as you jumped off and came back to him. “Your turn”, you responded. “I don’t have anything to prove”, he said pushing his hair back. “Okay loser”, you copied his earlier statement. “Fuck, okay! What’s my challenge?” He gave in. You looked around trying to find something to challenge him with, but ended up going with the obvious. “Let me swing you”, you said as a sly grin painted your face. He sighed out loud. “I’m literally gonna throw up on you, but okay”.
After giving each other ridiculous challenges in turns, your topic had drifted off to others, since the only challenges you could come up with were as stupid as “eat a leaf off the ground”. He was laying beside you on the swing as you were sitting on the edge, looking into the distance. “I guess you are pretty wild after all”, he suddenly confessed. “See, I told you”, you looked back at him. He just hummed as he gave you that signature half smile of his. You felt your body starting to shiver, it was getting surprisingly cold as the sun had almost already vanished. He noticed it as he was looking at your back. “You cold?” He kindly asked. “I’m fine”, you quickly responded. “Then why are you shivering?” He asked even though he knew the answer. “I said I’m fine”, you repeated. “I wish I had a jacket”, he muttered before continuing, “Let me warm you”. You looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows and a questioning look on your face. “Come on”, he said opening his arms for you to cuddle into. “Absolutely not”, you said turning away from him and rubbing your arms in attend to keep yourself warm. “Okay then, I challenge you to let me warm you”, he suddenly stated. “I thought we stopped the game already”, you laughed slightly. He gave you no answer. Suddenly you felt him rumbling behind you as he sat up and wrapped his big arms around you, and pulled you down with him to lay on the swing. Your eyes were big with surprise and you turned your head to look at him from underneath his arms. He looked down at you, without changing his rock hard facial expression. You let your eyes wander on his beautiful features, before wonders started to fill your mind. “Why are you so emotionless?” You softly asked. “It’s just who I am”, he was quick to respond. “No, you haven’t been that way always. There’s no way you were as emotionless as a child”, you said seeing as his eyes shifted. He was quiet for awhile before answering: “I guess life has made me this way. I would have been dead if I never toughened up”. “What do you mean by that?” You asked. “I used to be the kid everyone stomped on. I was a bit chubby as a kid”, he started explaining and the chubby part made you chuckle a little. “Min Yoongi, a chubby child”, you smiled. “Yeah, I got bullied for that alot. That and the fact that my own father took out his anger on me was making me weak. So one day I just decided to toughen up, I started giving back to the people who made fun of me before. Safe to say it shut them up”, he finished his story. “That’s still not an excuse to get involved to gangs and drug business”, you said. “I use weed to make quick money, that’s it. And I already told you I don’t beat people up anymore, unless they hurt my close ones”, he explained. “But how about your dad, does he still mistreat you like that?” You asked him. “Not anymore, he knows I will punch back. I only touch him if he abuses my mother”, you felt the vibrations of his low voice against your chest. “Well damn, what a hero story. Is this how you get the ladies, opening up to them about your dramatic past and making them feel special by that?” You pushed him sarcastically, but you were serious. “No, you were the only one I’ve ever told that to”, he said. “The only one? How about your friends?” You asked. “Only Taehyung knows, because he saw me fighting with my dad. I trust that you won’t tell anybody, though”, he confined in you. “I won’t” you said. He was squeezing you a bit closer to him, but before he could move any further you dug out your phone to look at the time. “Shit, when does the last train leave?” You asked noticing it was far more late you had expected it to be.
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When your whole world revolves around one boy, but destiny sets you with a unexpectedly expected man.
♡Pairing:Yoongi × reader ft. Jimin
♡Genre:brother’s friend, only old crush, heartbreak, college oc au.
♡Summary:you’re over him, a new world sets in front of you. But the heartbreak you both got at the same time is not what you have had thought of. It must be the destiny to set you with your only old crush Yoongi. But still you ain’t prepared for the third heartbreak in a row, what if he breaks your heart again?
♡Warnings:fluff, smut, angst, heartbreak, like flooded with tears, oc is so sweet, confusion, misunderstanding, crush , breakup, traitor, betrayal, brother’s bestfriend, roommate, college oc, angst shower smut, smokey, dirty talk, seokjin is oc’s brother, he’s a dick, yoongi is a Heartbreaker, jimin is also a dick, expectations ruined, one-shot.
⤑ Summary | Being stuck in the kitchen of your aunt’s bakery late at night is the last thing you had in mind when it came to preparing for Valentine’s day. Although, being stuck with your archenemy, and the most overbearing person you have ever known, teaching you how to bake your aunt’s secret recipe is the exact opposite of what you’d ever have in mind. As the kitchen grows hot, however, you cannot tell whether it’s from the ovens or if it’s something else burning between the two of you. As the night progresses, you cannot help but wonder which one would melt first once you are done. The frostings? Or you?
⤑Genre | Enemies to Lovers!au, Baker!au, Baker!Yoongi, Baker!reader, Smut
⤑ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature
⤑ Warning | involving food play (with…a lot of licking), Yoongi’s tongue, minor dirty talk, sexual tension in the kitchen, soft dom!Yoongi, clothed foreplay, breast play (with some biting involved), oral sex (f receiving, biting involved; m receiving, deep throating and balls sucking involved), fingering, female masturbation, deep throating, cum eating, penetrative sex without protection, semi-public sex.
⤑ Word count | 14,3k words
⤑ Song Companion |Rendezvous At Two - Play With Me
❥ Author’s Note | Written as a part of Bon Appetit collaboration with @jamaisjoons,@yeoldontknow, and @chillingkoo | Many thanks for my hype team @randombtsprincessaand@softyoongiionly, some of these scenes would never make sense if it weren’t for you. And for my second set of eyes @theodea, thank you for helping me even while you’re busy cat-sitting ;) | For my readers, I really hope you guys would enjoy this one. Have a beautiful Valentine!
Luck had not been on your side.
And honestly, no matter how much you hate to admit it, there is no denying that luck has not been on your side for a long time. If it were, you probably would not be here, stranded in the back kitchen of your aunt’s bakery shop, surrounded by the massive ovens that are still warm after the whole day of baking. Though there is no doubt that the temperature will only continue rising as the night is growing late.
Out of the tons of scenarios that you had pictured back when you had agreed to work alongside your aunt in her bakery shop, this is definitely not what you have had in mind. Not that you mind being here in the kitchen, doing what you love to do most. The only problem you have right now has something more to do with the situation you are currently being stuck in.
summary: head boy Min Yoongi is a lot of things: patient, perfect, popular, andunwavering; structured so that nothing can threaten that mindset. nothing, except for you.
pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
genre: hogwarts au, head boy!yoongi, enemies to lovers au | fluff
warnings: yoongi has a stick up his ass, many mentions of detentions various depictions of it that may or may not be accurate to actual Hogwarts detentions but alas i cannot say for certain
word count: 10k
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When Min Yoongi is seventeen, he receives the school authority to go around acting as if there were a giant stick up his ass. In other words, he gets selected to be a Head Boy.
Unfortunately, the role is entirely too fitting for a boy who appears to have spent the first half of his childhood reading the handbook of rules for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry line by line and the second half of his childhood reciting those rules to anyone just barely beginning to step out of bounds. You would be very familiar with the lectures he gives, given how often you’ve had to listen through on several of his different accusations regarding your rule breaking and lack of discipline.
➳ Pairing: Fashion Designer!Yoongi x Artist!Reader
➳ Genre: Smut, fluff, college AU, idiots to lovers, e2l
➳ Word Count: 14,105
➳ Summary: You would rather die than confess you’re capable of feeling anything but disdain towards the rich and privileged, so you make it known, loud and clear, that going on a bunch of dates with Min Yoongi is nothing more than an academic arrangement for the sake of your GPA. Holding hands and catching f*elings for him? That’s all part of the plan, so don’t get the wrong idea.
Or as Jeongguk likes to call it, “Matchmaking 101: How to Get Two Tsunderes to Fall in Love.”
➳ Warnings: Explicit language, pining, mention of family issues, alcohol consumption, mint yoongi >:), fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration, dirty talk, lowkey dumbification
➳ Publish date: Sat. November 7th, 2020
➳ Author’s Note: This is dedicated to my birthday neighbor and my favorite clown in the world, @moominyg !! The fluff is for you, but the smut is for me >:) Happy birthday to us :D and thank you for pretending that you didn’t know about this gift LOL
You’ve been told that “hate” is a strong word, but you can wholeheartedly say that you detest a lot of people.
For whatever reason, college has only made this feeling fester in your heart like an ember that’s ready to ignite. Before, you’ve considered the possibility that maybe you’re just being cynical. But on the other hand, you know for a fact that you’ve had too many run-ins with snobby film majors and arrogant theater kids for their abborhibble attitude to be more than a mere coincidence. Contrary to popular belief, enjoying Game of Thrones does not make you tasteless and not knowing Alexander Hamil-somethingdoes not make you uncultured.
Summary:Life sometimes sucks. You’ve been stuck in that strange world that is adulting, questioning everything about life as you’ve gradually grown harder and harder to everything until one bland date brings you to a small record store and you meet him. Min Yoongi. In his very words, ‘not a good guy’ but he’s just too tempting to ignore. And safe, careful, planner you finds yourself wrapped up in the storm that is Yoongi.
Pairing:Min Yoongi X Reader
Genre:Smut, possibly the longest sex scene I have ever written, with bits of introspective romance?? I guess?
Word Count: 15.2K
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F giving and receiving), spanking, a hell of a lot of dirty talk, and as always from me, plenty of swearing.
A/N: This isn’t complete. You’ve been warned. It doesn’t leave off on like…a cliffhanger or anything, but I’ve had this bad boy sitting around for ages and I’m just too busy to finish any of my projects at the moment but a lovely friend of mine reminded me about this particular bad boy Yoongi fic and I felt that I owed all of y’all who’s stuck around my very long bouts of radio silence a holiday present. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.
You can still clearly remember the first time you fell in love. It wasn’t anything amazing or special, it wasn’t some wonderful whirlwind romance always portrayed in stories and movies. But you can remember the butterflies, the way your skin warmed uncomfortably any time you held hands, the way your breathing grew uneven just from the smallest of hugs or stolen glances. Soft kisses when others weren’t looking would send your head into the clouds. You can also remember the heartache, the way it felt as though everything had come crashing down when he moved on and you were stuck trying to pick up the pieces of your life. But you would eventually, and if there’s anything that you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older it’s that love changes entirely. Not just with each partner but also with wisdom. Where you once could talk about the innocence of love now it was sex, marriage, children, careers, half-assed dates, trying to decide if you could see yourself living with that person or if the relationship wasn’t going anywhere after just a few months.
Love used to just be. It just came one day, crept into your heart like a thief in the night but instead of taking anything it just took up space. Ahhh, what a way to live. Youth holds far more innocence than people realize. Growing up is a pain, the world becomes crueler and you start analyzing everything instead of just living. When did that happen? When did love become a strategic game rather than just an effervescent thing swirling around in the depths of your soul? When did you start worrying so much about keeping up with others around you?
You weren’t always all this doom and gloom. In fact, most people will say that on the outside you seem to be a very positive, kind person. A bit of a pushover. Always there to help. Some might say otherwise, that sure you’re nice enough but you seem to have a wall up. Is that such a bad thing? Is it bad to want to protect yourself from the inevitable pain of having to move on? If you were to answer honestly, wholeheartedly, you probably started feeling this way a few years ago. After you watched your best friend walk down the aisle. So beautiful. So happy. And you were so fucking alone. Miserably alone. And you felt like a complete bitch for watching such a beautiful moment happen all while thinking selfishly about none other than yourself. And then everyone else moved on. They got married or moved in with their partners. They had children. Your siblings all got married. And then there’s you. The forever bachelorette. The workaholic.
If we remain on the topic of honesty, you aren’t even sure you know what love is anymore. You can vaguely recall the innocence of days past. The earnestness of loving simply because you couldn’t control it. But you can’t describe it. How does one describe love? If you had asked the you of yester-year…fine, yester-decade…you would have said, “It just is. It’s there one day and it strings you along for a wild ride and you just try your best as the shotgun driver to help steer this whole thing along.” But the older, hopefully, wiser you? Well, now you see love as something more akin to a good game of chess. It’s a strategy. A battlefield, a place where good plans should hopefully get you across the way but where other plans can foil you. Fucking Pat Benatar had it right, who would’ve guessed?
You glance back up at your date, drawn out of your internal ramblings as the waiter passes by. This guy isn’t the worst. He certainly isn’t the best. On paper he’s got everything going for a good future. He’s a doctor, he seems nice enough, he has his own home. For fuck’s sake, he even works at a free clinic one weekend a month just to help people. And he’s obnoxiously handsome. It’s your third date with him. But why is it that you just don’t feel a spark with him? Maybe you should sleep with him, see how that pans out. That’s one thought. On the other hand whenever a waiter passes by you desperately want to grab the check and run back to your sanctum away from this boring hell.
"(Y/N?)“ You blink back up at Shownu, giving a small awkward smile.
"Sorry, I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I’m a little tired.”
He nods kindly, grabbing a passing waiter and paying the check before he resumes speaking with you. “It’s okay, you just looked a little bored. I’m sorry I’m sure that cardiovascular disease is probably a boring topic to most.”
"Oh no, it’s fascinating.“ Lies. It felt like he was trying to read to you from a textbook. "I’m just a bit out of it. I have a new client who’s been more than a bit difficult and I’ve had to work almost around the clock to try to figure out what’ll make them happy.”
"What do you do again?“ Looks like you aren’t the only one snoozing off when the other person’s speaking. That’s not a good sign.
"I’m a graphic designer. This client, in particular, is a local coffee shop, they’re rebranding themselves but apparently, the two owners are having a hard time agreeing with what direction they want to go in. I’ll get a green light from one and a red light from the other and it’s been almost a week of this now.” You ruffle your hair aggravatedly before stopping. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so much about work, I’m sure it’s boring.”
"A bit.“ My god dick, take a hint. You were trying to be polite earlier and here he is just openly calling your work boring. "But that’s okay. You’ve got a lot on your plate. You drove here right?”
"Yup, I guess I’ll talk to you later.“ Another lie. You have no intention of contacting him again. Even if he is hot and a doctor. Your friends would call you crazy to not be interested in him. But is it so wild to want to enjoy your time with the other partner? When did the world become about saving face and looking good? Was it always this way and you were just ignorant? No. Naive would be a better word for you. You needed to grow thicker skin.
Shownu doesn’t even walk you to your car, not that you’re bothered by it. You wanted to escape just as much as he did. Looks like you’ll have to keep looking. Or maybe you should give up. Be a spinster. Widdle your days away in your work and be the fun aunt who comes around to steal stop signs and do dumb shit with your nieces and nephews. Yeah, that sounds a lot more like you than some boring marriage. Maybe. Or maybe you’re just giving up. You can’t tell. Maybe it’s just the last glass of wine you had talking.
You look around before getting in your car, your eyes spotting a small record store across the street. You’ve lived in the city for ten years, yet you’ve never seen this tiny little gem before. It’s tucked away, a small poorly lit sign simply saying ‘records.’ It looks so unusual here, in the posher side of town. But ten years ago this place hadn’t been gentrified. It’s like this one little building is holding out, refusing to conform. Unwilling to yield with the times, refusing to be aesthetically pleasing for some woman who owns a teacup poodle and drinks overpriced syrupy coffee who needs perfectly paved roads and has to speak to the manager. And before you can understand what you’re doing you’re jaywalking your ass right over to it.
It’s cramped, wall to wall, row after row it’s filled with vinyls of all colors. There’s a few teenagers looking around, clearly affluent based off of their clothing but rebelling. At least that’s what you’re assuming based off of the designer clothing mixed with cheap hair dye and piercings. Ah, you remember those days. Except your clothes were hand-me-downs and goodwill finds. Maybe vinyls are cool again. You can remember thinking you were hot shit to finally get a walkman at a garage sale. CD’s were already mainstream then but they weren’t cheap. The kids at school didn’t have pity on you for that. Not that it mattered to you, it felt like you finally had the whole world of music available to you whenever you wanted.
It feels nostalgic to go through the records. You can remember the way your oldest brother would begrudgingly take you with while he flirted with girls in a different record store. It was the spot, where only the raddest kids hung out. And now here you are almost three decades later in another record store late at night with just a bored employee and two rich kids who think they’re hot shit for being in on something that others aren’t. Ah, youth.
One record, in particular, pulls at you. You stop for a moment, thumbing it before gently picking it up. Christ, does wine give you all the yearning for nostalgia or are you just getting old? You’ll go with the wine, it’s a much more comforting thought than confronting your age right now. You want to hang this up. Remind yourself of who you were. Who you are. You’ve been losing sight. Maybe. It’s hard to tell, life moves too fast the older you get. Or maybe it’s that pesky malbec. The fact that you only had two glasses isn’t important. You need a scapegoat for tonight. A way to ease this growing uncomfortable feeling in your chest. Like the world is falling apart and moving on and you’re stuck somewhere. You aren’t sure where. But you do know that you need this. So you march up to the register, the two brats in the shop trailing behind shortly after.
The boy, no that’s definitely a fully grown man, lazily gazes up at you before taking the record and scanning it. You’d call him cute, but his eyes look a bit too hardened for that word. He looks like he’s seen some shit and doesn’t hide it from the world. Like he’s ready for a fight at all times and probably sleeps with one eye open just in case. He’d be the type to survive a zombie apocalypse. "I didn’t realize we even had any Atmosphere records. Wow, that takes me back.”
"Ant really was ahead of his time. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Slug is a great rapper, but the real key to their music was how Ant produced everything. Their new records are great too, but this one? This one’s just a real gem.“
"Hmmm, look at you, corporate hotshot getting her panties in a twist over some nineties backpack rappers.” His words drawl lazily, a sardonic smile curling up and showing the gums of his teeth as he places the record in a bag. “The world is full of surprises.” You aren’t even sure what to say as he hands the bag over to you, standing there with your mouth agape before he nods his head. “You gonna move lady? I’ve got other people waiting.” The teens behind you snicker, and you harden your eyes for just a moment before grabbing the bag and marching out. What a dick. A total dick. Tonight’s not your night. Christ, what were you even doing there? You don’t even have a record player.
You don’t realize it until you get home twenty minutes later, still fuming as you pull the record out, that he’s left behind his phone number on the receipt. “Call me when you’re bored, Ms. Corporate.” When did the fucker even get the time to do this? The little shit’s fast. He didn’t even give you his name. Why does that bother you so much? He was a dick. You shouldn’t want to know his name. You go to rip up the receipt but for some reason you find yourself tacking it up on the fridge. Maybe you’ll save it for a lonely, no scratch that, angry night. Reem his ass out for fun and then you’ll tear it up. Yeah sure, that’s why you’re keeping it.
———————————
A week’s gone by and you still haven’t taken down that stupid receipt from your fridge. You haven’t gone back to the shop either. You’ve been too busy, surviving off of ramen and egg sandwiches while working painfully long hours until you want to tear your hair out. You finally reach some semblance of agreement between the two owners, and you’ve finally finished working on their project. You got it done faster than anticipated, you just wanted them out of your life. But now you have only small projects in the meanwhile. And that’s dangerous. Because free time keeps allowing your brain to wander back to him. If you’re Ms. Corporate then he’s Mr. Dick. You kind of wonder what his dick looks like, if it’s big enough to back up his ego or not. You’d rather die than admit that. Shit, what are you thinking? If you’ve got time to fuck around then you’ve got time to pick up some more clients.
———————
You aren’t sure how you wound back up here, but suddenly you’re back in the same vinyl shop with Mr. Dick behind the counter again. You refuse to acknowledge the inner glee at seeing his face again. You barely even look in his direction, instead, you start rifling through the records before picking out a few more. Once you start digging through you find your brain focusing more on the artwork, on the way how everything comes together, nostalgia blossoming as you thumb through familiar covers. Radiohead, The Roots, Sade, Maxwell. Lord, you can remember your first boyfriend putting Maxwell on while making out with you in the car. You called him an old man, said it was probably what your parents put on to have sex. He was dejected, you thought it was funny but sweet. He didn’t see it that way. So it goes.
You quietly walk up to the counter, a soft smile playing on your face as you carefully place everything before the look on your face is wiped back to a careful blank slate when you see Mr. Dick cocking a half-grin at you. He looks like the type of guy that high school girls used to cream themselves over, they probably still do. The kind that always has a cigarette in hand, definitely used to be a skater, probably has a secret love child on the other side of the country, maybe did some minor time for a couple of DUIs. You almost want to laugh at the way you’re trying so hard to picture his life. The poor dude’s probably just totally normal, or maybe you hit the nail on the head. What does it matter, he’s just some random dick.
"Ms. Corporate, you’re back I see.“
"I am.”
"Always a pleasure to see a pretty gal in here, but especially when it’s you.“ You roll your eyes and he grins at this, you hate the way how your defenses almost momentarily break at just how cute he is when he smiles, really smiles. Here you were trying to figure out if he’s done time or not and suddenly you’re wanting to pinch his cheek. Christ, you need to get out more. And you don’t mean back here either. "I’m a little sad though, you never did give me a call.”
"I never got bored. Besides, what was I even supposed to do? Call you up and go, hey the dick behind the counter at the record store, I’m bored?“ He laughs at this, a full belly laugh before he cocks his head to the side.
"You’re an interesting one Ms. Corporate. Here I was trying to figure you out, and you’ve thrown me for another loop. I wasn’t lying though, I was disappointed that I didn’t hear from you.”
Your eyes narrow for a moment, trying hard to fight the heat that so desperately wants to rise to your cheeks. “Like I said, I wasn’t bored. And I’m not interested in speaking to random nameless douchebags.”
He nods his head, sliding your credit card and humming for a moment before the machine chirps and he hands over your bag and receipt. Before you can turn around he’s speaking again, “Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” You stare at him for a moment before he continues, “Now I’m not a nameless douche.”
"A named douche doesn’t fair any better in my books. I suppose I should’ve said that first.“
"Fair enough, but at least I don’t buy old man sex music in the middle of the night.” You can’t help but laugh at that, Maxwell really is old man sex music so you can’t blame him. In fact, some twisted part of you is elated that he thinks so too. Not that you’d admit that to even yourself.
"Have a good night, Min Yoongi.“ He looks startled for a second, he’s almost transfixed on the way you laugh. You can’t feel his eyes trailing you as you walk out the door, you’re far too focused on trying to calm the strangely warm fuzzy feeling trying to take over you to notice.
————————-
Life is strange, no matter what age you are things will pop up that you can’t explain how exactly it’s happened, or why it’s happened. The trick to being an adult is looking like you know what the fuck is going on, but the honest truth is no one does. Maybe they think they do, maybe they really do more often than not, but no one does one hundred percent of the time. That’s the honest truth. The entirety of humanity is a mass of dumbasses pretending to look like they know what’s going on. You are indeed one of those dumbasses, another fish in a large school trying not to be eaten but having no clue what lays beyond the school of fish ninety percent of the time. Your predator goes by the name of Min Yoongi. Perhaps he doesn’t even see himself as a predator nor you as prey, but that’s exactly how you see it. It’s been over a month since you last stepped foot in his workplace. There should be no need to go. You now have five vinyls and still no record player. Most would call them poor financial choices and an odd way to splurge. You’ve thought about it more than you can count though, going back to see him that is. That stupid fucking receipt is still hanging up on your fridge, and it’s taken everything in your willpower to not call him randomly.
Min Yoongi. You wonder, far too often for your own good, who he is. What he likes, dislikes. What makes him tick. What gets him off. You blame him. It’s the way he looks at you. Cold eyes, analyzing you to your very soul. Sneering at you one second, taunting you smugly, before switching to the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You’ve only seen him twice, no longer than a few minutes at a time. You don’t know if you can even say that you’ve ever had a real conversation with him. He doesn’t even know your name. And yet he runs through your thoughts on repeat. You would love to be able to settle on a normal human. A good guy, someone like Shownu. Safe, stable, traditionally handsome, a great career. But your stupid fucking brain feels nothing around a guy like him and then suddenly it sparks and rewires itself around a douche named Min Yoongi who you actually wondered if he did time or not. Life is strange. So it goes.
It’s thoughts like these that are your downfall. Late at night, all alone in bed. Pondering what he’s doing, who he’s doing. You’re sure a deadbeat like him has a slew of girls at his beck and call. He certainly acts like it. But that shouldn’t matter to you. After a month of wondering, going back and forth, staring longingly at the fridge, you’re picking up your phone and slowly entering in the numbers. One digit takes you nearly thirty seconds, the last time it took you this long to call someone was when you were staying at your grandmother’s house using her outdated rotary phone as a child. And here you are, a grown woman, terrified over some dick who works at a record store. Life is strange, you can’t help but think as you delete the numbers and enter them back in. Should you, shouldn’t you? What’s to gain? What’s to lose? Life is about strategy, isn’t it? Does he offer you anything? Perhaps temporary release is all you need. But can he actually offer that? Maybe. Hopefully. Maybe not. Who knows. It’s a risk. Not a calculated one either. In fact, odds are heavily stacked against him. And the adult in you says to not bother. That’s what vibrators are for, if all you’re looking for is a release. But there’s another voice, something longing for this. There’s something about him that plays on repeat in your head. Something that stirs up oddly sentimental feelings in you when you think of him. Which is strange, you don’t know him. So how can sentimentality be tied to someone you just met? Maybe it’s just part of his trade for soon to be old spinsters like you, you guess.
You take another deep breath, staring at the screen as you sink down to the floor of the kitchen and finally hit the dial button. Shit. Fuck. What are you doing? This isn’t like you. You haven’t thought out every exit strategy yet. Christ. Oh god. "Hello?” His voice is deeper over the phone. You won’t explain how that makes you feel, it’s a bit embarrassing honestly.
"Yoongi?“
"Ms. Corporate?”
“…Yes…” That’s right, you never told him his name. There’s garbled background noise for a minute, you hear him telling someone to shut the fuck up before it’s eerily silent for a moment and then you hear a breathy chuckle. And oh god, you are so so so fucking screwed.
"Holy shit. I didn’t think you’d actually call. Just when I thought you forgot all about me you actually call.“
"I was bored.” You bite back a smile, head resting on your fridge as you stare up at the ceiling. Jesus, you should dust more often, is that a spiderweb?
He gives a sing-song laugh, and that strange tipsy feeling in your gut bubbles back up again. You feel oddly nervous, kind of giddy. When’s the last time you felt this way? You don’t know if you ever did. “Holy Christ. I’m sorry, give me a moment, this just…makes me weirdly happy. Fuck. Shit. -I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO HOME. Sorry, not you Ms. Corporate. Just uh, a friend. He’s a dipshit. A bit drunk. Having girlfriend troubles I guess. Dunno why he came to me. I uh…I dunno why I’m telling you this either. Christ. Are you still there?”
"I’m here.“ You don’t know what to say. Fuck. Why did you call?? It’s been nearly thirty seconds and you’ve already lost all confidence in saying anything. This is why you need a plan, a strategy. When you don’t know how to proceed the only option is to deflect. So deflect you shall. "How did you know it was me?”
"I’ve answered nearly every unknown number asking if it was you for about six weeks now if I was very honest. Not that you needed to know that.“ You swear you can hear him give an awkward chuckle. How unexpected. Perhaps staying behind the counter gives him an odd confidence boost. Or maybe he’s been drinking just like his friend and is being a bit too honest. You’re not sure why, but that doesn’t feel like such a bad thing to you. The lack of snark is as startling as it is endearing.
"Well, I’ve kept your stupid receipt pinned to my fridge for the last six weeks. Not that you need to know that.” You smile at the way he laughs this time, mentally visualizing his gummy smile. Maybe you should have face timed him. But then he’d see you looking like a full damn mess in the middle of the night. You’ll just have to imagine what he looks like.
"You’re really cute Ms. Corporate. Really obnoxiously cute for someone who has the strangest taste in music. I mean you went from Atmosphere to Radiohead to Maxwell. I’m sure it branches out even further than that and hopefully to a few other decades. I’m curious.“
"About what? My music tastes?”
"Well yeah. And a lot of other things about you. Like I said, I’ve been trying to figure you out. You run around in my thoughts all day lately. That’s not fair Ms. Corporate. Not fair at all. At least you can think of me as the douche with the name. But all I’ve got is Ms. Corporate with weird music tastes.“
"Hmm….”
"What do you mean hmmm? Isn’t this your cue to, oh I don’t know, tell me your name?“
"It’s fun this way. Safe. Now I don’t have to worry about you looking me up and finding my place and chopping me up into pieces.”
"Pretty sure I would’ve done that beforehand if that were the case, you know, cover my tracks and not leave my number behind or anything. Come on Ms. Corporate, you’re killing me. I want to know if your name is as pretty as your face.“
You give it a moment, relishing silently in the exasperated sighs you hear over the phone, his feet shuffling loudly against pavement before finally, you speak up. ”(Y/N). My name’s (y/n).“
”(Y/N).“ The way he says your name slowly has tingles running up your spine, your cheeks heating up at the way it almost feels like he’s savoring your name. Christ, what is it about this cheeky devil? One second he’s captain douche and the next second he’s adorable and then suddenly he has your toes curling just from the way he says your name. He has 'bad idea’ written all over him in big bold letters and yet here you are, sitting on your kitchen floor grinning like a fool. When’s the last time you smiled this much? Shit, that’s a depressing thought, let’s not think about that. "That’s a pretty name. It fits you.”
"You sure do seem to be all compliments tonight. I’m wondering when sir asswipe will come out.“
"I save him for the store. Customer service will do that to you.” That’s…fair enough. But still. And why does that make you laugh? Why is it that everything just seems so easy with him? “(Y/N).” He pauses for a moment, you hear a lighter clicking in the background before he takes a drag. Well, it looks like you got one thing right, he’s a smoker. Ashtray tongue, not that great. You bet he makes it look hot though. “I wanna see you.”
You don’t respond, breathing halting for a moment before you hum. You want to see him too, that’s the honest truth. You want to get to know him, explore him. Open him up and examine his thoughts, lay in bed and talk for hours, maybe throw on that Maxwell record and see what happens. Wait…what the fuck are you thinking? You can’t help but burst out laughing, stopping when you realized that you probably sound absolutely insane and rude. Insanely rude. “Wait, no I wasn’t laughing that you want to see me, it’s just…I don’t know why but that stupid Maxwell album popped into my head.” You pause, terrified that he’ll be angry or upset or realize that you’re a bumbling idiot but instead, he gives a sing-song laugh. God, you want to see his face too.
"Okay, real talk though, why did you buy old man porn music?“
"I felt like I had to, I don’t know, buy it to repent for my sins?” He’s wheezing now, his laughter becoming infectious until you find yourself cracking up with him. Why is it so easy to talk to him?
"What in the fuck does that even mean?“
"I feel like at this point, it’s better without explaining. But I will anyway. When I was in high school I was dating this dude who broke up with me because I made fun of him for putting on a Maxwell tape when we made out in his car. I told him it was old man sex music, and when you said it when I was checking out it confirmed that while I was right, I owed poor Maxwell my money I guess. I don’t know. I’m not making any sense am I?”
"Kind of? Not really? I get the feeling that I’ll always still be wondering a bit with you though. Not that that’s a bad thing. You’re weird (Y/N), but good weird. I certainly didn’t expect this from a corporate hotshot.“
"Why do you keep calling me that?”
"Well, you look like you work in an office. You don’t?“
"Nope. I own my own business, I’m a graphic designer. But I was on a date the first time I popped in, oh and the second time I popped in I had just finalized some things with a client in person.”
"You…you wore a business suit on a…date? I don’t mean to be rude but um…how old exactly are you (Y/N)? Like what era did you come from?“
"Ah, Monsuire Jerkwad appears again. I’m 30 for your information. Which is an old biddy in my mother’s eyes.”
"Whaaaat? I mean I figured from your music choices you were about my age, but wow. Look at that, I’m just one year older than you. I guess that makes me whatever the fuck the male version of an old biddy is. Say though, (Y/N), why for fuck’s sake would you wear a business suit on a date? You didn’t answer that earlier.“ Huh. So he’s just a year older than you. You thought that he was younger actually. Man, asian really don’t raisin. You briefly wonder what his skincare routine is. Or maybe he’s one of those bastards that just uses Irish spring soap for everything and still magically looks great with no idea that there’s a difference between moisturizer and lotion.
"Ah…well, I went on the date after meeting with a client. But I mean, it was like a hot librarian suit right?” You can tell by the laughter that you were way off the mark. “Yeah…okay so it was just a normal suit. But whatever, I didn’t feel a need to get dressed up for him.”
"What, is the guy a slob or something?“
"Nah, in fact, it couldn’t be further from that. But I dunno I just didn’t really jive with him.”
"But you went on a date with him anyway?“
"I told you Yoongi, I’m an old biddy. I’m drying up over here. Eggs ticking or whatever. At least according to every single family member, even the extended ones I rarely talk to.”
"Being a chick must be rough, I feel like they nag you guys extra hard. But I get it, my folks are always pestering me to get married. Settle down, find a career, have kids. Shit, at this point they don’t even care what order it happens. If I came home with some random baby I think they wouldn’t even be angry they’d just be like 'finally, little Mins.’ It doesn’t help that my brother and his wife don’t want to try for kids for another couple of years so suddenly all the pressure’s on me.“
"God, I felt that in my soul. Why can’t they just let us breathe? It’s like my life revolves around finding someone to make my parents happy all of a sudden. I don’t even know when that happened. Or how, or why. But it’s like, I’ve gotta keep up with everyone else you know? I feel like somewhere along the line I got left behind.”
"Did you though?“ He takes a long drag, and you swear you can practically smell the cigarette through the phone. You bet he’s a clove kind of guy, he’s too weird to go for menthols. "I mean, did you really get left behind? Life happens for everyone at different times. What’s so wrong about that? Trust me, I get the pressure and the nagging and the bullshit. But at the end of the day, this is your life. Live it without regrets. Why settle just because other people tell you that you should? That seems boring as fucking hell.”
Life really is strange. Who would have guessed that some random dick in a random record store you’d never been to before a shitty date would suddenly be the one lifting the burden off your shoulder as if it had never been there? Everyone else was always telling you that it would happen, that the right guy would come along and soon enough you’d be married and having kids and all would be grand. But the honest truth is…that’s not what you want. You don’t even know if you want kids. And marriage? Man, that just seems like something you don’t need in your life right now. When did you get so wrapped up in feeling like you’d been left in the dust that you felt you had to do the exact same things to keep up?
Somewhere, in the core of your very being, you probably knew right then and there that you were getting into way too deep of territory for someone you had just met. But you had dropped your guard, refused to acknowledge any warning signs. How could you when someone finally was telling you that it was okay to just live? He told you the words that you needed the most without even knowing it. You can feel tears threating to rise but you gulp everything down and instead just give a quiet thanks. You just hear the drag of his cigarette again before he responds with an equally quiet no problem. It feels like the world could stop, right there and then. As if it was just the two of you, frozen in your own separate corners of earth while quietly listening to the static from the phone and all would be well. It felt safe. Dangerously safe.
"Fuck, I need to charge my phone it’s about to-“ With that, the call drops and you stare at your phone for a moment. Maybe it was for the best that his phone died, who knows what you would have said to him if you stayed on the phone any longer. You just practically spilled your guts to a virtual stranger from your kitchen floor at one in the morning. And yet, for the first time in a long time, all you can do is stare happily at your phone before finally forcing yourself into bed.
The next morning you may or may not have squealed like a complete buffoon upon reading the text you missed from him after falling asleep. "Sorry bout that. Next time tho, I wanna see you in person. That way there’s no worries about my phone dying.” Shit. It’s too early for this kind of attack. You’ll blame being half-awake for why you responded with just a simple “K.” You only have your own neuroticism to blame for your internal freakouts that constantly reoccur over the next few days when you don’t hear anything back. Maybe you were a bit too dry. Okay…you most certainly were too dry. Christ, if there’s ever been a dead fish version of a text, that would be it. Maybe you should have expected to fumble this badly. Maybe it’s a good thing. He didn’t seem like the type to really be interested in anything other than playing around. Not that you were expecting anything. Right? Okay…well maybe you did kind of really want to make out with him. Which is strange, because honestly, you can’t remember the last time you even thought of wanting to make out with someone. University years maybe? But now’s not the time to be thinking about that! Nows the perfect time to throw yourself into work, it’s the best scapegoat for avoiding emotions you’d rather not explore.
—————-
"Wow, your boredom intervals are quickly decreasing. Do you not have a lot of work right now or?“ Jesus what in the fuck are you even thinking, dragging your ass in this stupid fucking store in the middle of the night for a third time. And you still don’t have a goddamn record player. God, you pray he never finds that out. He’d probably never stop making fun of you.
You can’t help but shoot a glare in his direction, but your nerves falter the moment you see the shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you can feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat and trap itself. It’s suffocating. Blinding. It’s not fair. He’s so handsome. Dark disheveled hair partially obscuring his coffee-colored eyes, gummy grin, obnoxiously white teeth for a smoker, milky pale skin that’s always at stark odds with his typical black t-shirt, veiny hands. This isn’t good. This isn’t fair. You really want to kiss him.
"What, cat got your tongue or something Ms. Corporate?” He’s leaning across the counter, head cocked as he openly ogles you. It’s not fair. You’ve been a wreck for the last few days, waiting around for some sort of a response and this fucking shrimp is acting like you never spoke. Like nothing changed. Like he didn’t tell you he wanted to see you in person. It’s probably just your own stupidity or neuroticism peaking through, but when he called you Ms. Corporate it felt like that perfect paradise on the phone was all a mirage. As if it never happened. It’s infuriating how he can act so calm. Before you can continue overthinking and turning around in circles you march up to the counter and grip his shirt in your hand, pulling him in for a kiss that he reciprocates unusually quickly. You can feel his tongue slide across your lower lip, asking for entrance when the sound of the door chimes pull you quickly away. Damn these stupid kids buying records in the middle of the night. Don’t they have a curfew?? Fucking rich kids trying to be edgy when they should be at home, in bed, not fucking interrupting this not so Hallmark moment.
"Stop fucking calling me Ms. Corporate, you colossal idiot.“ You can distantly hear him sending you off with a hoarse 'goodnight.’ Everything in you wants to turn around and see what kind of a face he’s making. Is he just making fun of you? Is he as hot and bothered as you from a kiss? It felt like electricity ran up your spine like everything was floating for a moment, the world just goes away when you’re with him and all that’s there is the two of you. Fuck. You like Sargeant fuckface from the record store. And even though you have a feeling that all of this is a terrible idea you can’t help but grin to yourself the entire way home. Hey, at least this time you didn’t waste more money on records you can’t play.
You aren’t sure if it’s the place, or Yoongi, or your increasing age that your mother likes to remind you of constantly (not that you’d ever admit that) that makes you feel so nostalgic, so sentimental. But whenever you’re around him it hits you hard. When did love lose innocence, when did it stop simply being about selfishly, greedily wanting to learn everything about the other person and staying by their side? When did it grow to be a chore, a thing that you did because it was another step on the ladder of life? And why is it that when you’re around him all you can feel is those same simple straightforward feelings? Fuck, you want to kiss him again. His lips were so soft, and you were right, he tasted like Djarum Blacks. You wonder how he got them, you’re pretty sure that there’s a ban on them now. Ashy, a bit of clove lingering on his lips. Lingering on yours. God, it’s almost infuriating how happy that makes you. Almost. But right now, you’re too wrapped up in glee to be annoyed. You hope that somehow, someday, you’ll manage to wrap him around your finger the way he has you so effortlessly wrapped over his. Not that you’re complaining. If you’re going to be wrapped around anyone’s fingers, you’re okay with it being his. Not that you’ve been staring at them whenever he handed you your bags or anything. Nope. That definitely wasn’t the case. Maybe.
When you get back home you try your hardest to stay busy, but your thoughts keep wandering back. Jesus, you think it would be easier to control your brain. It isn’t until your phone clatters off the counter that you realize Yoongi’s calling you, and for a moment you squint at the phone before hastily picking it up and answering. Shit wait, act cool. ”'Sup Colonel nitwit?“ Fuck, wait that wasn’t cool. Christ, why are you like this? What are you, a twelve-year-old boy? You should probably seek counseling for your stupidity. Or maybe not, because when you hear that sing-song laughter reverberating through your ears it suddenly makes everything feel okay again.
"You’re something (y/n). A real piece of work. I mean you called me an idiot earlier, no wait, a colossal idiot and now I’m Colonel nitwit?” He laughs again, and once again you find yourself sliding down the fridge onto the floor, blushing as you blink up at the ceiling. Dejavu. “Ah, this is bad. I should have texted you. Hearing your voice makes me want to see you in person.”
"Foul. Out of bounds. That’s not fair play. You aren’t allowed to say things that cute.“
"You fouled first, who just marches up to someone and kisses them at their place of work?”
"It’s not like anyone else was there.“ You’re glad he isn’t here to see your face, you’re already grinning like a fool and you have a feeling that he’d tease you mercilessly if he could see you right now.
"Until those damn brats showed up.” Ah, it makes you painfully happy that he was just as annoyed as you were. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you just run around my thoughts all damn day.”
"So why didn’t you ever text me back?“
"AH! About that, I realized after I hung up that you said you were out on a date that first time and I suddenly started feeling like a homewrecker. I mean, I know you said that you didn’t seem interested in him or maybe that was me just hoping I heard that I dunno everything feels kind of fuzzy now. My memories are hazy I just-”
"It was just a date, not a boyfriend. I’m not the type to talk to others when I’m sincerely dating. Although I’m also not the type to call up guys who leave me their numbers on receipts. I guess the world is full of surprises.“
"God, this is really bad, I really wanna see your face. And you can’t tell me that this isn’t fair play when you basically just called me special.”
"I’m sorry, but what language were you thinking I was speaking that that’s what you came up with? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t come close to saying that.“
"No no, it was totally there. In the subtext. It’s all about the subtext you know. I mean you said that you aren’t the type to call guys who give you their number on a receipt and yet you still called me. That makes me special.”
"Bwa-what’s with that. You dork. Shit, now I wanna see your face.“
"Where are you? I’ll come over to you.”
"I’m at my home. Scary. Maybe you are a serial killer and that’s really your goal. You know, to chop me up in little pieces or some weird shit.“
"Wanna take the risk?”
"Kind of.“
"Only kind of??? What’s with that lukewarm response? I’m clearly not a serial killer. But I won’t act like I don’t have nefarious intentions.” You can hear the clicking of the lighter, and you can’t help but take a deep inhale at the same time as him. God, you bet he looks hot smoking. Wait no, smoking is bad. Very very bad. “Where’d your thoughts go right now, (y/n)?” It’s not fair. He has you wrapped around his finger. You want to see him, you want to inhale his scent, run your fingers through his hair, taste him, touch him, fuck him. Fuck. When’s the last time a guy got you this hot and bothered from merely existing? Has this ever actually happened? You aren’t sure.
"I’m curious, describe these nefarious intentions please.“
There’s a pause, another drag of his cigarette. "Alright, I’ll start with the less deviant things. I can’t get the feeling of your lips outta my head. I want to kiss you, hold you, touch you. It’s weird, I’m not normally the type for soft fluffy things. But the world is strange, as you said. You do weird things to my brain (y/n). You run around my thoughts night and day. When the door chimes at work I turn into Pavlov’s dog and hope it’s you.” There’s another long pause, for a moment all you hear is the thudding of your heart rushing into your eardrums and the soft staccato of static coming from your phone.
"Those don’t seem very nefarious to me.“
"Interesting, so you DO want to hear my deviant thoughts.”
"Well, calling your intentions nefarious is a rather interesting way of putting it. It makes it sound more sinister and less…I dunno…sexual? And then when you explained it all seemed rather, I don’t know…innocent I guess.“
"That’s because I don’t wanna scare you off, Ms. Corporate.”
"Again with that stupid name?“
"I wanna fuck you.” Shit, you weren’t expecting him to be that straightforward, especially after he seemed to be beating around the bush earlier. And why are you now a mix of happy and horny? That’s a new mix for you. “I want to see what kind of faces you make when you cum. I want to taste you. I want to see you under me, on top of me, I want to hear you beg, I want to hear you scream my name. I want to ruin you until all you can think of is me. Until all that satisfies you is me, because right now all I can think of is you. All I want is you. And it doesn’t feel fair to not see you in that same boat. So what do you say, (y/n)? Do you still want to see me tonight?”
You want to tell him that you’re also in the same boat, that really the two of you have been going in circles with the same thoughts for probably just as long. Both of you are so greedy, wanting and thinking of nothing but ruining the other. But ruin seems an unfair word, it seems to scratch only the surface. The honest truth is that you just wholeheartedly want the other person, you want them under your thumb to declare them yours. Maybe. It’s strange. You were always the kind of girl to take things slow. You never did one night stands, you never had fuck buddies or booty calls or anything even close to resembling that. Sex was always something that came far later in a relationship. But this? You aren’t even sure what it is. You can’t exactly say he’s a friend, you don’t really know him. You can’t say that you aren’t on the way to becoming lovers, but then again he might be thinking of things from a strictly physical standpoint. You aren’t sure. Maybe you should ask. Someday perhaps. If you were frank though all of this excites you. Fascinates you. Terrifies you ever so slightly. But all you can think of at this moment is that it elates you to no end that he wants you just as much as you want him. How absolutely greedy. “I do. I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”
"Yeah,“ the dark chuckle on the other line brings heat up to your face, your breath catching in your throat. He suffocates you even with the simplest of things, even with a laugh. "Yeah, you probably shouldn’t. You strike me as a good girl. The type to always please others before pleasing herself. The type to not rebel. I don’t know why, but I feel I should at least tell you this. I’m not a good guy, I’m not the guy you take home to your parents or the kind of dude you can gush about to all of your friends. But I am at least confident that I can give you a reprieve. It’s gotta be stressful, being good all the time constantly working for others, constantly pleasing others. But who tries to please you, understand you, allows you to just be selfish every once in a while? I can be that for you. I want to be that for you. Which is really weird because I usually hate when chicks want that from me. And here I am offering myself up on a silver platter to you. Man, the guys would think I’ve gone crazy if I told them this. I don’t even get it, but there’s just something about you that makes me feel…I dunno something.”
It’s strange, how little he knows you and yet he says the things you need to hear the most. When is the last time you did something simply because you wanted to before he stumbled into your life? Did you ever? Here you were hot and bothered before and now you want to cry big fat ugly happy tears. Yoongi gives you emotional whiplash with just a few words. It’s not fair. “I want to see you. Tonight.”
"Okay.“ Another drag, another chuckle. "Okay, then send me your address.”
You fumble with the phone, texting the address over to him quickly, your heart jumping out of your throat the entire time. The anticipation has your heart soaring and nerves dropping deep into your belly, you’re a mess of a multitude of emotions all at the same time.
"Wow, would you look at that. You’re only about ten minutes away from me. I’ll be over soon.“ Before you can respond he hangs up, and you’re left staring at the ceiling wondering momentarily what you’ve just gotten yourself into before you’re scrambling off the kitchen floor and into your bedroom. Shit, shit. You don’t have much time. The house is presentable, barely. Whatever. It’ll have to do. You brush your teeth, comb out your hair quickly, and do a quick once over. He’ll have to just deal with your bare face, but hey at least you shaved in the bath earlier. The doorbell chimes right as you throw an oversized sweater over one of your nicer lace bras you quickly changed into. You nearly knock into every door and corner on your way to the front door, slipping slightly at the entrance before taking a deep breath and opening it.
He’s painfully good looking, but his trademark blase pokerface has you ever so slightly annoyed. Here you were rushing about, a bundle of nerves and energy, and he looks remarkably indifferent to everything. As if he didn’t just tell you that he has, and you quote, nefarious intentions. But that thought runs right out the door the moment he narrows his eyes on you and gives you one of his award-winning gummy grins. You’re so fucked. You’re such a sucker for him already. "You okay?”
"What, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?“ You open the door wider, motioning him to come in before shutting the door gently behind him.
"Because you look nervous. Relax, I’m not here to eat you. Eat you out, maybe. If that’s what you want. I’m only here to give you whatever you want.” He narrows his eyes on you again, his gaze sweeping over you before looking directly at you. It feels like he can see right through you, right down to your very soul. It’s comforting, terrifying, it’s like everything that comes with him is a euphoric blend of polar opposites leaving you to drown somewhere in the in-between. He makes you feel like you’re in the eye of the storm but precariously close to being tossed into the chaos raging all around you.
"I hate to say this, but that sounds almost too good to be true. What’s in it for you?“ You tilt your head, analyzing him as you lean back against the door while trying to feign nonchalance.
"You. And oddly enough, for once that’s enough for me.” He shrugs at this comment, although his eyes narrow a bit as if even he can’t even believe that he just admitted this.
"What if I said I didn’t want more? Or what if I said that I wanted no strings attached if there is more? Or if I said-“
”-I want strings attached. No, I need strings attached.“ You can’t help but blink owlishly back at him as you try to digest this information. You pegged him for a wham-bam-thank you ma'am but I’m never calling you again type of man. "Call me crazy, I mean this is totally out of my typical wheelhouse but I realized that I was jealous when you said you were on a date right before you first came into the shop. If we’re going to do this I want strings attached. Call it whatever you want, but whatever this is it’s just me and you babe. No one else.”
"No one else on either side?“ Greedy, selfish, but fair. You’re over the moon that for whatever reason he’s just the same as you. At least, when it comes to this situation. God, you want him. All of him. You want to sink deeper into this, drown yourself in him, lose yourself in all that he has to offer you. That’s dangerous. But you don’t care, you’re already too far gone. You can feel your stomach tighten, mind halting as he stalks closer to you, his breath hot on your ear as one hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer to him.
"No one else on either side.” His eyes travel down from your eyes to your lips before slowly wandering back up. God, you just want him to kiss you already.
"Deal.“ Why do you feel like you might have just made a pact with the devil? And why is it that you still really don’t care, as long as it means you get to finally taste him again. Fucking hell, you’re pretty sure all of your sanity flies right out the window when he’s involved. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, just a few centimeters away from your own. So close, so close. It’s like time has stilled. As if the world has fallen away and yet again all that’s left is the two of you. Falling, falling. Sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Into a chasm of euphoric insanity of pleasure.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you move your hand to his cheek the other hand winding up the firm planes of his chest. That surprises you, you thought he’d be more delicate. He certainly seems delicately built at first glance, but looks can be deceiving. His eyes never leave your own, his sights set squarely on you. Refusing to look away. Refusing to run. A deal has been made with the devil, and the devil is letting you know you aren’t about to leave his crosshairs. "Kiss me, Yoongi.” That signature lazy half-smile of his appears for just a fraction before his lips are on yours. He’s spicy, ashy. That damn clove has your toes curling, sighing, melting into his touch. Fucking hell. You’re already wet, thighs trembling, hands curling his shirt into a ball, as he licks into your mouth.
The beat of your heart sounds painfully loud in your eardrums. Every sound is fuzzy, staticky as if you’re still on the phone. Your own groans almost sound distant, his sighs sound so soft. So content. It feels like the two of you have been dunked in molasses. Time has slowed down for both of you. Moving so slowly, tenderly. Almost as if you’re starstruck lovers who have just one night to cherish each other. As if you’ve known each other’s bodies forever but have never been allowed to explore them. It feels like a fragile spell, moving too quickly might break the magic and the devil will run home with his nefarious intentions long forgotten. His hand grips tighter for a moment before wandering down, palming and massaging your ass before picking up your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He takes the small change in stature to detach from your lips, both of you watching with glossy eyes as a thing string of saliva breaks. “You’re beautiful (y/n).” A hoarse whisper, kind words from a man with a crass mouth. It makes you want to be feral, it makes you want to slow down. It makes you want everything. Nothing but him. He drives you to the brink of insanity with all these diametrically opposing wants and needs.
A long low moan tumbles out of your lips at the feeling of his tongue gliding across the prominent vein of your neck before sinking his lips down. Soft petals of pinks and red appear in his wake, a trail of cherry blossoms in spring-time painted on your skin leading up to your ear before his teeth gently press down on your lobe. Shit. That feels way too good. Toes curling, fingers wrapping into his hair and his tongue tangles skillfully around your ear until suddenly he’s off, his eyes boring back into your own as your breathing tries to slow back down. “Tell me what you want, (y/n). What do you want from me?”
If any other man would have asked you that, with such a knife-sharp gaze, you surely would have clammed up. You’ve never been the vocal type. But you’re too far lost in his eyes to care. There’s a part of you that desperately hopes your own wants will please him, that he’ll sink deeper with you into this chasm of pleasure with you. “I want to suck you off.”
The admission seems to catch him off guard for a moment, there’s almost an innocence to the way he blinks back at you but that’s gone quickly enough that you almost imagine if you really saw it or not. Replaced by a wolfish grin, desire bubbling across his features, infecting your skin, your core. As if the madness is catching. “Well well well. Who knew little Ms. Corporate had that in her? I can’t say the idea of you on your knees hasn’t been in my mind before. I also can’t lie and say that it isn’t one of the most exquisite things I’ve ever thought of. But I thought I told you that this was about you? About your pleasure? Are you sure that’s what you want?” Your brain processes his words slowly, you’re far too focused on his growing erection pressing against your inner thigh to think clearly and quickly.
"I told you, Yoongi. I want you. I want you to lose yourself just as much as me.“ That’s right, you want to watch him fall into pleasure just as you have. You want this madness, this desire, this sin to grip him tightly just as it has gripped you. You’re greedy that way. And right now the greatest satisfaction you could receive is seeing him out of control, and you in it. You might be on your knees for him, but he’ll be under your spell.
You unlatch your legs slowly, trembling slightly as you lace your fingers through his and pull him along to your bedroom silently. All you can hear is the hum of the A/C and the sound of your shallow breathing when you push through the bedroom door and lead him to the edge of the bed. Before you can move, his hands are quickly pulling off your sweater and tugging down your leggings until you’re left in just your underwear. "I’m not about to have you finally blow me and you’re still dressed.” His fingers gracefully move around your back, unlatching your bra and tossing it behind you. It’s feverish, the look he sends you. All you can think of is that you want more. You want to see him look at you like that all day. As if you’re the only woman he wants. As if he needs you. You can’t even respond, too lost in the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. So instead you move forward a step, tugging his t-shirt over his head and staring for a second at his bare skin.
He has those skinny boy abs, the kind that you always felt weren’t fair because it comes naturally from stupid fast metabolisms and not hard work. But you aren’t going to complain right now, not when he looks so good and he’s yours. All yours. Whatever this is, he made a deal, no one else. You can be as greedy as you want because he’s just the same. You sink down onto your knees, your eyes locking onto his as you unbuckle his belt and toss it off to the side. You aren’t sure if it’s just your hopeful imagination or if you really do hear his breath catch in his throat as you slowly unzip his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. He’s a briefs kind of guy, thank god. You’ve always hated how boxers look on men. He takes a moment to shuffle out of his pants completely before prying off his tight black briefs, and your mouth instinctively waters at the sight.
He’s thick, veiny, and you’re happy to report that he keeps everything well-groomed. Thank god, no pubes will be stuck in your teeth tonight. Heat rises up to your cheeks at the way he looks at you with carnal anticipation. Suddenly you aren’t so sure about all your earlier internal bravado about being the one to make him sink deeper into pleasure with you. He’s looking at you like a predator stalking his prey. As if a meal has just presented itself to him on a silver platter. But you’ll change that, you want nothing more than to watch that mask fall off. You want him to break. To fall. To tremble underneath your touch the way you shake with anticipation and euphoria under his watchful gaze.
It’s with an unwavering determination that you finally grasp his dick in your hand, staring up at him as you pepper soft kisses around his tip. He’s salty, tangy, drooling with precum. Delicious. Sinful. Perfect. You refuse to move your gaze off of his eyes, you want to watch him. You want to see how he falls apart. It only takes one long lick from the base to the tip to start seeing the si
