*THIS IS FOR OUR FELLOW BTS ARMIES READING THIS POST* or whosoever is interested in reading beautiful literature.
Your local INTJ here to let you know that our beloved ENTP has finally embarked upon the journey of writing her first BTS fanfic. It is one of the most beautiful piece of writing I have come across in the ao3 world.
It would be great if you guys checked it out! Highly recommend it, from an INTJ’s objective point of view of course.
⏤ 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.
Summary: Yoongi suddenly starts giving you the cold shoulder, causing you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the members. But the reason behind his behaviour is not what you think.
Yoongi x f!reader
Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort
WC: 4.5k
Watching BTS perform through a screen was entertaining and exciting. Watching them perform live was magical and an experience you would never forget. Watching them perform up close from the wings of the stage was a privilege that came with being Yoongi’s girlfriend, and one you would forever be grateful for.
Of course, you weren’t just dating Yoongi to watch their concerts, you loved him inside and out, the good and the bad, the idol side of him and the real side of him. And no matter how many times you watched them practice, rehearse and perform their songs, you would never get tired of watching them do what they loved.
Summary:It’s Yoongi’s birthday, gifts are given and love is exchanged (vice versa).
Warning/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language; smut (fem-reader; fingering; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; handjob; but don’t be fooled, this is the softestsmut ever); fluff;ugh, have I mentioned that this is so so soft? (I’m sorry); I got carried away, but I have heart-eyes for Min Yoongi, so here is a 10K+ fic articulating that; mentions of the pandemic; kisses in the shower; building furniture together? Yeah; more kisses; Min Holly cameo; references plucked from We Get By just because lmaoo; idol!AU - established relationship.
=====
Um, wow, it was never supposed to get this long and I have no justification for it other than the fact that I love Yoongi sm???!!!!
(That should really be enough, I think).
Anyway, to recall the words of Jeon Jungkook *said with much enthusiasm and affection into a mic, in front a vast crowd, preferably*-
“Min Suga! Jjang-Jjang-Man-Boong-Boong - Happy SUGA day!”
=====
-
Sometime in 2016
“Ah, it’s freezing outside.”
It’s weeks before and Yoongi says this in a huff. It makes you lift your attention from what you were doing, examining him as he sheds his layers. The overcoat is laid neatly on the arm of the couch, his hoodie slightly rumpled at the sleeves from where it was pushed up. The tips of his ears are red. You knew by now that he hates the cold. It takes little to gleam parts of himself that are telling. Like how he would wait and wait before huffing out his complaints, only for them to come out in an adorable mumble and a scrunch of a nose. Or how he lopesrather than walks sometimes. Or the fact that he’s loud in the way he was quiet.
Shuffling across the living space, he comes to your side, draping his arm around your shoulder. The tips of his fingers are cold, soon to be warmed up due to being in close proximity with you.
“Did you have a good day?”
You smile, fitting yourself against him, “yeah. I did.”
He stares at your work, the perennial glow of your laptop screen. It’s a world entirely different from his own but he can identify with the hectic nature of it, the long hours, and sometimes the inevitability of bringing your work home. Your eyes meet and because you’re both shy in your nature, it straddles the line of awkwardness. Still new to each other, to this,you’re delicate in the way you handle being in a relationship.
“You can - stay over, if you want.”
His offer comes out staggered, a soft lisp draping over the vowels. Up close, Yoongi is red all over: the tip of his nose, the apples of his cheeks, his ears. It’s the first time he has a place of his own, no more sharing spaces with the others, which means that you can stay over at his.Sure, it’s small, situated in a narrow building that’s in the noiser part of the city. But it’s a home. That isn’t something akin to the parts he usually shares - like the ones he allows the public or even the members to see, different from parts of his soul he pours into the lyrics he composes. This apartment - his space - it’s meaningful. Remembering that makes you warm all over, especially when you see that your slippers are next to his by the door, or that the spare toothbrush holder in the adjoining bathroom is yours.
Later, you watch him have a meal since he came back late. He eats slowly, humming on occasion to signal his satisfaction. All the while, he holds your hand above the table while you type with the other. It’s not an unfamiliar sight as his thumb rubs your skin out of habit.
You’re cutting my productivity time, Yoongi.
It’s a gentle tease given that you’re chest blooms with something warm each time he overlaps his touch on yours. At that, he smiles, chewing on the food while his cheeks go pink.
Afterwards, as the dishes were drying in the rack, you excuse yourself to shower. On the bed are some of his shirts folded neatly atop each other. You smile, choosing one to wear.
You find him in front of the TV, paying attention to a replay of a basketball game. He mumbles something about the point guard missing a pass, you see that there’s a glass of whisky on the coffee table. The couch is never used much, you camp out on the floor as a force of habit. Settled next to him, the lights from the TV show that his face is clean but so red from the whiskey.
“You shouldn’t drink that everyday,” you chide, leaning into his warmth. He relents for a moment, setting down the sweaty glass. His fingerprints render the surface transparent, the droplets pooling on the coaster.
“It’s alright if you drink it in small amounts.”
You take a sip yourself, grimacing at the bitterness that touches your tongue, burning your throat. Yoongi laughs, pinching your cheek, “it’s not for everyone.”
It’s not like your stubborn allthe time, but something in the playfulness of his tone spurs you to down the entire contents of the crystalline tumbler. And, immediately humbled by the searing burn, your eyes snap shut, your entire body flinching as you coughed. Yoongi rubs your back, laughing.
“Don-t,- agh - don’t laugh,” you ordered, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes hastily, “ah, it’s so strong, how do you even drink that with a straight face.”
“Hold on,” he replied, letting his hand linger on the small of your back before standing up. Next to the TV stand is a small cart, it’s a movable bar of sorts inhabited by bottles of alcohol with labels you don’t even know of. Returning, he holds a glass with a darker liquid, your stomach turns at the idea of consuming it. Yoongi must’ve caught the apprehension in your face and smiles, “this isn’t the same thing, promise.”
Wary, you take a careful sip, your eyebrows raising at the sweet aftertaste. It’s syrupy, the burn isn’t as intense, but maybe it’s because Yoongi added some ice cubes to pare it down.
“You prefer sweeter things. That’s from a region called the Highlands in Scotland. That one only needs to be aged by three years, usually.”
Trying another sip, you find yourself adjusting to it, “what about you?”
“Ardberg. It’s smokier. Takes ten years to age.”
He slides his glass to yours in a meek toast. The game on the TV reaches its climax, the crowd roars as the team meant to win does. You watch Yoongi watching the highlights, the slope of his profile, the youthful glow of his skin. He’s always been attractive, but there’s something about him talking about the things he knows about. It’s like you can’t help it, to look at him with unabashed interest. He feels the weight of your stare.
“What?”
You shake your head, “nothing.”
It turns out that having whiskey makes you go all sleepy, unlike your previous experience with other alcohols where you get jittery. The TV stays on for a little longer, you cycle between the news, re-runs of Infinity Challenge andNew Journey to the West. At some point, you both made it onto the couch, half-folded onto each other, feeling full. Yoongi’s hand cradles your head at times, his fingers finding themselves into the strands, the gentlest of touches spurring more warmth. It’s nice like this, to be together, doing nothing in particular but feeling satisfied.
“Should we go to bed?” He asked, and you nod. It’s past midnight, creeping into the territory of 2AM.
In his room with the walnut bed frame and dark furniture, the curtains are drawn and Seoul blinks continuously in the distance. The Han is illuminated by the moon, otherwise, it’s a bleak serpent that cuts through the city in a seemingly infinite trail.
“Never realised your view is high enough to see the city like this,” you mumbled, the words coming out slurred at the end. You blink, a little startled that you turned out to be a lightweight. Yoongi pulls the covers up and over your shoulder before you turn to him, snuggling closer. He hums his answer, placing the back of his hands on your cheek, “your face is warm.”
“It’s from all that whiskey you gave me.”
“I told you to sip, not take it like a shot,” he chuckles, smoothing your hair down. You smile because you liked hearing him laugh, you liked it even more when he fussed over you. His affection was cute, which he never tends to show, at least in private like this. It makes you more salubrious.
“I’ll get something else when I come back from our trip.”
The thought dampens things a little. Right. Your boyfriend wasn’t as ordinary as he claims to be. He’s got a schedule that involved numerous trips away, whether it was for award shows, concerts, or reality TV abroad. You knew that you wouldn’t be together to celebrate his birthday this year but summer was also likely taken. You don’t get him to yourself often and you kind of wished that it wasn’t like this most times.
“When are you going?”
Yoongi traces the line of your jaw, his eyes are almost pitch black. The bed creaks as he asserts himself onto you, it’s closer than normal, it’s nice.
“May.”
There’s a knot in your chest. But it untangles as soon as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you underneath his chin so that your nose grazes his neck. Yoongi smells like mint, his heartbeat is steady as your fingers curl on his shirt. It’s really nice like this, swaddled in grey sheets that smell like him, your bodies fitting nicely.
“It won’t be too bad,” he murmurs, “we’ll call.”
Yes. You always call. Then, you catch yourself, blaming the whiskey. Inebriation made you sulky.
“I know.”
For a while, you both say nothing. You feel Yoongi’s hold go lax, realising that he’s fallen asleep. You think that you’d want it to be like this for as long as possible, as much as time allowed for. You follow suit not long after, falling into the scent of mint and the soft sighs he exhales.
-
“These are really warm, you made a good choice, choosing my ones.”
You look up, finding the kind eyes of the elderly woman manning the stall. It’s an open market, it’s busy, and the air is too cold for what is meant to be early Spring.
“Yes, I’m glad that I found this one,” you replied, as her soft hands folded it under some baking paper. You don’t know why you were suddenly shy, as if she had the means to know who it was for.
“There are others, more colourful ones if you like. I’ll give you a discount if you buy two.”
Shaking your head, you hand her the notes and a little extra.
“This one’s the right one, thank you.”
-
Yoongi’s hair is a shock of mint at age of twenty-three.
He’s grinning so hard at the brown parchment that you find yourself embarrassed, barely getting the words out you’d rehearsed on the subway over.
“I - I thought you could use it for when you’re cold. I mean, you said that you guys are filming abroad in Europe and I heard it’s still cold even if you go in the summer months, so -”
You don’t get to finish your sentence since he’s taking you in his arms, kissing your temple.
“Happy Birthday,” you murmured, although you’re a couple of days late. You hadn’t seen him due to the back to back commitments. He’s as apologetic as you are, as if everything was in your control. His kisses travel down, they’re light and ghost-like. He’s so near that he becomes a blur of mint green before you closing your eyes.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, tenderly kissing you, catching the tilt of your head by resting his hand on the nape of your neck. He inches forward, you go back, and it’s like this, slow and easy, your noses grazing at times. Your hands grasp at his shirt through his bomber, feel the way his heart is as erratic as yours. Backing up on the table, his hands support himself, planting his palms on the oak surface.
“Hurry back,” you said breathlessly, hands all over him, pulling him in. You hear him chuckle, breaking the kiss only to nip at your lower lip, saying your name softly while curling his finger to angle your chin up. His cheeks are red, an odd yet adorable complement to his hair.
“I haven’t even left yet.”
You press your lips on his again, “I know.”
And their trip does happen in May. He sends you pictures of magnificent landscapes from Norway, the sweeping sceneries in Sweden, the interior of a train he went on. Selca’s of him in a green parka wearing the gift you got him. This time, his hair was darker, a chestnut brown that appears honeyed under the sunlight. You call when it’s morning in Seoul and night wherever he finds himself, his eyes are tired and his grin is wide. You say that you miss each other but it’s never really that long before you’re together again.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, and the next thing is said quietly because he’s not alone -
“I love you.”
It was your turn to smile, “I love you too.”
-
Sometime in 2017
The Wings Tour started a few days ago and you’re nestled in Yoongi’s bed. His hair is as natural as it could get, the darkened strands falling over his eyes as he blinks sleepily.
“Planning to have it darker,” he says, in this low-timbre, scratchy in the way he forms his vowels. Gingerly, you swipe at the lengthier locks, his eyes are shut but you knew he was restless. He often was in the middle of these things.
“Like inky black?”
“Mhm.”
You notice that he’s partial to wearing hoops but you couldn’t help but think that it would suit him even more if he had another pair. The conversation wanes and you’re drawn to it too, feeling the pull of sleep. Then, you say something, more of a reminder for yourself -
“It’s your birthday soon.”
Yoongi stirs, curving his body, getting comfortable, “already?”
“Hm.”
There’s a new lamp in the corner of his room, setting warm hues along the wall. His sheets are navy, they’re slightly worn, pilled at the corners. Tomorrow, you’ll wake before him, a thing you’re used to now, kissing him under the covers as the sun creeps over the city line. This feeling opens up to content, it’s strangely unbearable. But Yoongi doesn’t sleep yet, his hand trails down, down from your back, onto your hip, his leg coming between yours, eliciting a gasp.
“Yoongi,” you whispered, not really relenting yourself. It’s a different hum that makes it past his lips this time, your bodies suddenly pressing against each other with renewed urgency. You nip at his bottom lip, welcoming the pleasant relief that surges through you when holds you impossibly close.
“I’m leaving soon,” he says, pulling the sounds you’ve been harbouring at the back of your throat out, resulting in breathy sighs.
“I know,” you replied, now on your back as he kisses along your neck, dark brown hair tickling your skin. The rustle of the fabric almost echoesin the room, it makes you shy despite you both being alone. He’s with you again, hungry kisses on your lips, your arms looping over his neck, body arching up while his hand skates on your back. Your nails dig into his skin, he hisses, sucking at your bottom lip suddenly, the temperature escalating to a threshold that prompts you to throw the covers off.
“Ah, fuck,” you moaned, his fingers wandering, wandering till they press on your core over the seam of your shorts. It’s a harmless friction, the pressure is just enough that your hips follow his touch. Your arm goes over his neck, your other hand trailing down his front, palming him through the flimsy fabric of his sweatpants. He inhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours, the bed groaning as your movements become frantic.
The phone rings - probably his. You both freeze, your lungs contracting and expanding in such a rate that your breaths come out shaky. He pulls away from you, kissing your forehead softly. He walks to the table, picking up without looking at who’s calling.
It doesn’t matter anyway, you knew that it was a nightly reminder of his schedule commencing early tomorrow. Technically, it istomorrow according to the glare of red on the clock nearby. His manager knew him well, and, like the others, he is nagged then nudged accordingly. Yoongi repeats the information, something about a fan sign at 9AM. He watches you, chewing at his bottom lip as he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. The mood dips, sleep encroaches on you both, the better option as he has a full day ahead.
So you sleep together, sleep in the form of slumber, holding hands in the dark. It’s a kind of intimacy that takes hold, no matter the time or place. It’s like knowing what Yoongi smells like, those layers of scent never lost on you, like knowing how his breathing descends into a slower cadence when he’s about to fall asleep.
But he doesn’t forget, he never does -
I love you.
And you say it back, those three words, recalling how the first instance was when you both said it at the same time, dissolving in peals of laugher after. It was awkward yet charming, like a second confession of sorts. He hums, his heart so calm and yours trying to keep pace. You nuzzle your nose, your mouth still tasting like his, not ready to succumb yet, not till you say -
“Sleep well.”
-
Ah
Ah
Yoongi, ahn -
Your breath spreads against the skin of his collarbone, hot and staggered. Your back arches, hips tipping down while his fingers fuck you in a steady rhythm, prolonging your first orgasm. Every nerve sparks so much that your legs stiffen. He’s leaving for Chile tonight. The tour is well on its way. The airport will be filled camera lenses, his face will be hidden behind a mask and his hair will be tucked under the beanie you gifted him last year.
It’s his birthday and his hair is obsidian. Tonight, he wears the silver hoops you gifted him during dinner. They graze your skin as you hold him close, the cold metal stinging a bit. It’s too warm, perilous in the way you squirm under his ministrations.
Yoongi kisses you, his tongue sliding smooth on your own, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens then unfurls, he’s too good at this - making you feel good.Your hips move sloppily, the wet noises are obscene, even in the dimness of the room. Your legs are splayed wide, his muscles are firm when set against yours, your moans are continuous, curses following suit, fuck, ah, overwhelmed in the fullest sense of the word.
“Good?” He asks, curling his fingers just so, tearing a sharp gasp from you, shuddering.
“Y-yes,hgnh,” you whimpered, tucking inwards, hips slowing in rotation as the pleasure enters a cycle of bliss and pain, pain because somehow, your body can’t seem to keep up. “I like it,” you sighed, biting down on your bottom lip, one hand fisting the sheets, the other clinging onto his back, slippery from sweat, slippery from how you were earlier, desperately rocking into release. He groans as you clench around his fingers, wetness trickling out, the peak rising and rising, “I’m gonna cum again,” you gasped, rutting your hips, feeling him plunge knuckle-deep, “w-want to, again.”
“You can. Go ahead, cum for me,” he said, a hint of smugness in his voice, his fingers never slowing, slender digits coated in your slick arousal. They curl slightly, rubbing in a torturous rhythm, over and over and over, and your hips stutter as you came, waves of wetness providing a messy squelch, but he doesn’t stop.
“Y-yoongi,fuck -ah,ah,” you gasped, shaking from it all, heart beating a mile a minute as you try to compose yourself.
“Please, I can’t,” you said breathlessly, legs trying to shut as he goes in, rubbing that spot that sends you flinching. “P-please.”
He stops, slowing down to pull away completely. He grips your thigh, keeping you open, his fingers sticky along your skin. The smell of sex clouds the air, sweat drying on certain parts, he kisses you in apology, you taste salt, and you taste him too.
“No, it’s just - it wasn’t bad,” you said, trying to catch your breath, a bit dizzy, “I like it, I like it toomuch, when were together, when -” and because you couldn’t express it, you pull him down, kissing him messily, sighing into his mouth as he grinds. He’s hard again and you miss the feel of him inside you.
“Fuck me,” you begged, feeling the resurgence of heat. Yoongi nods, his tongue briefly resting on the corner of his mouth, pale skin gone pink, his chest drawing deep breaths. And maybe it’s because you’re nervous that he’s leaving again and it’s soaking your chest with feelings that overwhelm. You’re trembling by the time he rolls another condom on, his knees dipping the mattress as he positions himself.
You gasp as you feel him pushing in, the tip stretching you a little more, he groans, mouth hovering over yours, “ah fuck, I think I won’t last a minute.” That makes you laugh and he shakes, “don’t - ah, don’t.” He retreats his hips, yet he’s almost collapsing over you.
“No, no,” you said quickly, pressing on his lower back, urging him, “it’s good,” you said, pleasure-drunk words delivered on his neck. He lets out a controlled breath, fanning your hair as he went, inching in slowly, kissing you, moaning as you were as he bottomed out. And when he moves, your hand flies to the headboard for purchase, palm curling awkwardly on the slim bars, panting as his fingertips graze over your nipples, caressing, pinching, then caressing again.
“Yoongi,fuck,” you moaned, reckless, your voice goes all breathy. Your cheek is pressed against his as he pistons his hips, slow at first, then picking up the pace, going all the way inside you until your breath mists on the metal of his earrings. He kisses you all over, still in control, his tongue making everything hot and wet. His hand clutches yours, fingers digging on your knuckles, your legs hitch up, your head falling back to sight of his skin going from pink to a deeper red.
“Ah,fuck -”
He leans forward, his movements steady, it’s so good even when slowed, and it’s warm all over. He mouths along your jaw, breathy groans travelling right down to your core. Your fingers grip him hard, “Yoongi, ah” the build up reaches an all time high, the effort of containing the pleasure seemingly too much.
“C-close,” you choked out, the friction becoming harder, pushing you to the edge, and Yoongi nods, gently pulling you to him, moving faster, harder.
“Angh,shit,” you gasped, your back arching as you came, causing you to cling onto him, thighs shaking as he rolls his hips, gasping into your mouth as you tighten around him, so wet and messy in between you that he groans, biting your bottom lip. You moaned as he grinds his hips, filling you to the hilt, making you both jolt as your inner walls clamp around him tightly, moaning against the crook of his neck as he came too. His hips still, his lips, slick with saliva, tasting like you, like sex. You’ve always been sensitive and it’s easier after the first time to get to this point, but it’s really in the way Yoongi holds you, how he knows how to make you feel good, where to touch or to kiss.
You both go limp, soon a panting, sweaty tangle of limbs. The sensations become less acute, resulting in pulses - the press of his mouth on your neck, the sound of your name is a soft murmur in his voice. Your fingers play with the shorter strands of hair on the back of his neck, you feel him smile on your skin as your hearts slow down.
With your bodies faded from the activity, you don’t realise that you had both drifted off until the blare of his alarm pierces the stillness in the air. A light sleeper amid his schedules, Yoongi reaches for his phone, kissing a spot between your shoulder blades in. Morning has yet to show itself, the clock nearby reading 3AM. He apologises for waking you up but you don’t mind. He’ll be going away and you’d hate for him to not wake you.
Thankfully, he knows that too, halting his apologies and holding you by your wrist.
“Shower?”
You nod, noticing how the hoops he’s wearing now come in a pair.
“I knew it,” you said. He turns around on the way into the bathroom.
“What?”
“They suit you.”
He gauges that you’re looking at his ears. He grins, his eyes puffy from sleep but he looks as well-rested as he can, despite his hair sticking up (cutely, though). He touches the smaller hoop, wide enough to let his finger poke through.
“They do.”
-
Sometime in 2020
There’s a table where you have dinner on in Yoongi’s apartment. It’s bigger now where he’s moved, more rooms, a larger kitchen with ample storage. He’s had the bed custom made, the frame is still a trusty walnut dyed in a cooler shade of brown. He’s working on his mixtape, aptly titled ‘D-2.’
His headphones are unplugged and you’re doing your own thing while you’re close together like this. On occasion, he would play something, running his tongue over his bottom lip in concentration. It’s mostly going over the rap in certain songs, which leads you to count his measures, the way he made choices regarding his inflections, intonation, and accent. Daechwitabooms through the speakers attached to his laptop. You knew because it’s the song that would drop with a music video and he sent you clips of the behind the scenes. You teased him about his long blonde hair, you look just like a King, Jeonha. He dismissed you with an embarrassed wave of his hand.
He catches your gaze, blinking rapidly. It’s the first time you’re hearing it fully. The words come out aggressive, sometimes the syllables are spat out, the sentences scrambled yet flowing together in a rhythm. It’s the kind of song that gets your pulse going.
“It’s a bit, uh…”
“I like it,” you supplied, “and the beat doesn’t change, right?”
He nods, rubbing his nose with his knuckle.
“You noticed.”
I always do.
Finding your way on his lap, you take out a small box from the pocket of the hoodie that your wearing, presenting it to him. He leans back, his eyebrows raising in response.
“What’s this?”
You shrugged, “open it.”
He does, albeit with one hand as he holds you close with the other. The lid lifts and reveals a red string bracelet laid on the spongy bed. He says your name, ending in a chuckle.
“Ah, what’s this.”
You don’t know why, even after all these years, you still get shy whenever you get him gifts. After all, what do you get someone who seemingly has it all?
“I know it’s a couple of days early,” you said, trying to justify it. There won’t actually be a lot time on the day of his birthday. He tries to put it on, laughing at little when the hook doesn’t thread through the opening. You help him, fastening it to his liking.
“Happy Birthday,” you murmured, kissing the top of his head, then his temple, then his cheeks, until he’s laughing as a gentle protest. Always the one more readily affectionate between the pair of you, he tends to do that when you get like this.
You liked to hear him laugh, he’s been so stressed with everything going on lately. It’s harder with the cancellations, the concerts, the tour they’ve rehearsed tirelessly for. His embrace tightens around you, his hair smells like mint and he’s soft underneath his hoodie. Leaning back, you see that his skin is dewy and flushed.
“Thank you.”
You kiss the tip of his nose.
“No problem, Jeonha.”
He bursts into laughter, his eyes squeezing shut, carving smile lines at the sides, “stop it.”
-
Yoongi finds you under the sheets, face close to your phone, a hermit in a cave. You both smile; he’s back early today. The shirt he’s wearing is nothing short of massive, cloaking him in a soft, cream cotton. The bed dips as he sits down, you notice that his hair is drying, the tips sticking together. He must have showered at work.
“How was your day?”
Putting away your phone, you reach to hug him, to which he relents, his body deflating onto yours. These days, you were fortunate enough to function during normal hours. They’ve adapted to a different norm, but staying in one place has allowed for less stringent commitments.
“Good. Worked on something coming out later this month, went to the gym for a while.”
You sweep your hands over his back, feeling the muscles underneath, “you’re warm.” Your fingertips find his trimmed hair, the ends are sharply shorn, “really warm.”
“It’s nothing, at least it’s not like after a concert,” he said, resting his chin against your shoulder, his hands on your sides, barely exerting pressure. You remember him describing it to you, what it was like to walk up, hearing the thunderous cheers that shake the stage.
There’s nothing like it. As if your soul is sucked out of your body, your senses all on edge.
Yoongi’s fingers press on your skin, they travel along your lower back, holding, squeezing.Lately, he’s been stoic about it all, it’s fairly early and you’re thinking back. Those who get the opportunity to hear the screams of sixty-thousand all at once are for a privileged few. It wipes out the trepidation of basically being an athlete on stage and the gruelling pressure to remain in top form for three hours. And to hear your own words sang back to you - that’s the ambrosia accompanying the cacophonous cheers.
At first, he didn’t even realise that he was stressed because performing was a release for him. But when the concerts were cancelled, he felt like he was losing his job. It all happened at once, where every anxious gaze were on the screens, watching helplessly as carefully laid plans fell apart in a blink. You both read books, watched movies, investing in the mundane, holding his hand through it in order to trick his mind that he was okay and that he was feeling better.
That’s why it’s no small feat to endure what he was going through, the others too.
The crowd has shrunk into screens, delayed (in spite of fibre optic connection), and at times, fabricated.
“You okay?”
You follow this up with a well-intentioned scratch on the back of his head. He hums, pulling back. You’re met with his lips on yours. It takes a few seconds to process it, to react, to respond. His warmth seeps through you, his dark brown eyes can’t hide the blown out pupils, but it’s pretty in the way Yoongi can be. Years couldn’t dampen that way you’re irrevocably smitten for him, ceaselessly attracted to his every facet, those glossy lips, pink most times, and red sometimes.
It doesn’t take much, a few inches maybe, your noses brushing before your tilt your head, feeling the whisper of his breath, the tender graze of his lips. It feels like an age, it’s so slow but tangible, so real.He tastes sweet, the slide of his tongue is hot, you sigh, arching into him, his mouth kissing the corner of yours, then your chin, your jaw, your heights being more compatible sat down. Your breath grows shallow, the sensation overtaking like a heady cloud, he leans, cheek pressed against yours, silver hoops barely indenting, the metal sears a little. And he knows that there’s a spot right below your ear, he plants a soft kiss, sucking suddenly and you inhale sharply, head tilting back in willing submission.
“Clothes,” he rasped, fingers finding the hem of your shirt while yours tug at his collar, all too ready to drag it over his head. In the low light, you part, Yoongi grows timid. He often does when there isn’t that much of a need to fling the layers in haste, when there’s room for romance. Oddly, this leads to missteps, fumbling. With his shirt off, you follow, shivering at the gust of air.
“Need to work out more,” he said, ruffling his hair. It’s dark brown this time, he wanted to let his scalp rest from all the bleach. You liked his hair in any colour but this was your favourite, it reminded you of when you first met, tripping over your words, falling steadily for the boy with dark hair and dark eyes.
“I like your body.”
And you mean it because it’s true. Whether that’s in bed or seeing him change to leave for something, or how he sometimes stays in his underwear, distracted by something on his phone right after the shower. You like its contradiction, the softness of it when you’re an admirer, the strength of his muscles in his arms when you hold him, the way his stomach hints at definition, the dark happy trail going straight down, his lithe legs, hands that have slender fingers and prominent veins.
“Ah, you’re only saying that,” he complains, going red because he was easily flustered. His accent slips out, aided by his voice dropping into a timbre, the satoori manipulating the syllables in a way that you liked.
You help him unbuckle his belt, loosening his slacks, peeling these layers away, fingers finding skin, heat spreading instantaneously. It’s difficult to not get restless this time, not when you’re this close. And maybe it takes a little more effort for him to shimmy out of his slacks, the way they drag down his legs for a bit before pooling on the floor. Down to his briefs, you slip out of your shorts, clothes landing in a pile, out of sight.
His hands secure themselves on your hips, and you’re breathing him in, hands exploring as much as you can, the landscape of his body is yours, smooth and firm and warm.You jolt as his mouth peppers kisses along your neck, down to your collarbones, soft lips find your nipple, the slight bite of his teeth just enough for it to stay good.
“Yoongi,” you breathed, your back hitting the bed, the frame shaking only slightly as your position adjusts. Your fingers dip into the hem of his underwear, pulling to expose further. He lets you, careful with his attention, humming against your skin, dark hair sweeping that it tickles.
“I just -” he says, worked up, his mouth on your neck, the sounds you’re making seem too loud in the room, the walls no longer a muted sanctuary, “it’s not that I’m -”
“Yeah, I know,” you whispered, feeling the way his hand slots onto yours, making you smile. He’s not stressed, you think. It’s different. He says your name, his hand gripping yours, the red bracelet feels rough, contrasting with his delicate skin. It’s startling, the way your hands look together, his fingertips with their rounded edges and blunt nails. Those bony fingers and broad palms, they make your insides flip. He’s not wearing that many rings this time, you kiss his knuckles, skate your lips over the silver ring he likes to wear.
He presses you onto the bed, shrugging off the last of the layers, you stroke him languidly, he balks, gasping slightly as you squeezed. Your bodies are like furnaces, you work to a rhythm that befits how you know him, low moans make it from his mouth onto yours, he kisses you clumsily, the clash of teeth, the press of his lips, these sensations overtake.
“I’ve been - I haven’t been good,” he starts, you shake your head, “I’m not good with words,” he confesses.
You kiss him with fervour because you can, because you need to while bringing him to the edge. For a while, it’s just your laboured breathing, he’s hard and leaking, it drips onto you, it’s sticky, messy.His hips act on their own, his tongue sliding against yours with a kind of desperation that couldn’t be replicated. You taste him, his mouth all too willing to indulge you, his fingers pinching your nipples, but his grip moves to fist the sheets as you coax him to the peak, he shudders, that breathy ahsounding so good.
“Fuck, - ah,” he pants, as you hum in satisfaction, tightening your grip, circling your thumb on the slit. “You, ah, drive me crazy,” he says, kissing you to punctuate this confession. Your heart lurches, it’s exhilarating, like a free-fall.
Any other time, you would have teased him, maybe laughed a little, remarked some witty comeback that would turn his cheeks vermillion. But you kiss him, missing him in this achingly human way. He comes over you for a bit, your chests pressed together, ignoring the way it’s sticky in between, he’s nervous, you can tell because he’s nuzzling that spot below your ear. The embrace is needed, his arms, strong and firm, his heartbeat is rabbity, he exhales.
“I don’t tell you enough but,” he starts, chopping his sentences, syllables going hollow from his nerves, “I miss you, I love,” he lifts his head, kissing you again, “I love you.” You grin into the kiss, chuckling soon after.
“Yoongi-sshi, you’re quite the sap today,” you tease, pulling back to see the tip of his nose go red, he looks so soft, his hair askew, his eyes darting along your features, perhaps a little lovestruck. He rolls his eyes, you appease him, kissing his chin, scratching the place between his shoulder blades, he laughs, it’s hoarse, like how it is when he’s amused. But it melts into a gasp as you widen your legs, your heels pushing against his lower back, down until you feel him there, hard again. It’s a slow grind, his moans are louder with his face turned to your neck. But you say it back.
“You too,” you said, it’s whispered, finding yourself shy.
He pulls away so he could reach for a condom by the nightstand, your shadows shift along the wall, he puts it on and you watch pink seep onto his chest. He gently spreads your thighs, raising one to kiss the side of your knee, your breath hitches, “Yoongi.”
You feel him push in, your hips stuttering as you adjust. The tremble of your body is a tell-tale sign that you won’t really last that long, not when he’s kissing you at the same time, trapping heat, the taste of you and him together, the saltiness of sex, the briny scent of sweat, the way your skin is scalding. You moaned as he fills you to the hilt, he does too, but it’s a deeper growl, throaty as he gasps in your mouth, his fingers twining with yours, the bracelet the only thing on his wrist, impressing onto your skin. It becomes slow, intimate, it’s enough for it to be quiet, suffocating in a good way. You grab at him, clutching at the hard muscles of his back, eyes closed, feeling, tasting.
“G-good, feels good,” you murmured, barely coherent, your words muffled on his neck as his hips rock forward. Your brain gets a little bit unfiltered, he kisses you all over, down your chin, along your jawline, his hips pulling and pushing, constant movement that emits wet sounds, the smack of flesh, it’s too loud, but the feelings in between drown them out. He knows that when you jolt, it’s because he’s brushed a part where it’s good.
The bed groans, the headboard judders, your gasps meet his grunts, the deep rose on his cheeks, the blown out pupils, he’s devastating to look at. There’s a prominent slash on his bottom lip, likely from how hard he was biting down. He looks different, it’s version of him meant for you - only you. The way his hair is back to being damp, some strands sticking to his temples, others clamping together to be pushed back, the dewy sheen on his nose, the clean scent from his skin. You love him like that; it’s almost too much.
“What’s wrong?” He breathes, slowing as he notices you go starry eyed.
“N-nothing,” you stammered, clenching involuntarily, he places his hand on the side of your face, his thumb swiping your cheekbone, it’s tender but it burns. He doesn’t say anything more, pulling you close, foreheads pressed together, his hips resuming that push and pull, you kiss, your hearts fluttering, fingers adopting a bruising grip. It aches in a good way, you moan against his mouth as you came, body shaking from the way it consumes, wet between your legs, inner muscles pulsing. You grip him carelessly, urging him to keep going without using words. You’re lightheaded, whimpering as he complies, plunging forcefully, he murmurs something - something soothing that your moans come out stuttered.
Heat curls inside you, it’s overbearing, your bodies free-falling despite being tangled like this, the sheets are pulled from the bed, skin scraping on the wrinkles, folds, then ridges. His bracelet, a bright red, matches the way he’s gets tainted in rose.
“Y-yoongi,” you said weakly, and he holds you, until he’s careless in the way he moves, thrusting to chase that peak, you shudder, legs folded, trying to tuck them into you more. Ah, fuck, if you do that - he groans, succumbing to his instincts, his hand slotting at the back of your knee, your high gets prolonged and you can’t help but cry out, spasming around him as he came, sensitive everywhere, your breaths are loud. They echo as your ears ring, cheeks pressed together, your limbs flinching as he slows.
After some time, you’re side by side, staring at each other in the dim interior. He holds your hand or you hold his, it doesn’t really matter. In the quiet, there is no resistance, just the pleasure drunk haze you cocoon yourselves in, easily lured by sleep. He leans forward, kissing your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste.
“I kind of like this,” you said, pushing his hair back.
“Like what?”
You shrugged, not quite knowing what you meant either, so you say -
“This.”
Yoongi chuckles, knowing where you’re coming from. The bracelet on his wrist is thin but it’s a contrast to his paleness, complementing the silver that adorn him wherever he goes. He kisses the back of your hand.
“Me too.”
-
March 2022
Yoongi [09:09PM]
How was it? :)
You [09:11PM]
I clapped so hard that my hands went numb ha
Yoongi[09:12PM]
:(
You [09:14PM]
It was good, don’t worry :D
I can’t believe you shouted NG - we tried our best with the wave you know T_T
Yoongi [09:16PM]
It technically was though >:]
Are you safely out of the venue? I can send someone to take you home
You [09:21PM]
It’s okay :) I’m already on the subway
Someone brought the balloons back from the concert XD
There are two purple balloons pressed to the ceiling, comical in the way they are half deflated, pushed up with the sheer will of two ARMYs who are reviewing the pictures they took.
Yoongi[09:23PM]
Wah ~ the huge purple balloons? keke
You [09:25PM]
Yup! Kekeke
Yoongi[09:28PM]
You wore enough layers, right?
You [09:29PM]
Took your scarf with me :)
As the subway carriage dragged itself along the track, you hide your face under the black wool, adjusting the folds over your mask. It’s warm and you knew that it smells like Yoongi. A sweet scent that sticks to the back of your mind.
Yoongi[09:31PM]
You should have taken my beanie too
You [09:32 PM]
I’m finee :) I’m warm enough
Yoongi[09:35PM]
I’m almost home.
I’ll wait for you before I take a bath.
Also, do you like this?
[picture message attached]
You almost drop your phone on the account of him sending you a post-concert selca. His hair is pushed back and his eyes are bright - happy. There’s something about the way the rose flush kisses his skin after a show, the way the light settles on the planes of his cheekbones or nose. It’s pink, always pink, his hair plastered wet, sticking to his nape, gorgeous, almost sultry. He makes pink splotches so pretty on his skin, the way the eyeshadow dusts his eyelids, his nose rimmed with shades of red.
He’s handsome.
(He always is.)
You [09:36 PM]
You almost made me drop my phone -_-
Yoongi[09:37PM]
Keke
Guess I’m good at what I do then :)
Glad you liked it ^—^
You laugh to yourself as your stop nears. You could hear the excited chatter of fellow concert goers and ARMYs happening all around, some are dressed in the bright purple of Jimin’s ‘With You’ hoodie, others wearing Bt21 headbands. It won’t be too long until you’re back home with him and that thought warms you more than any layer of clothing you could have added to ward off the cold.
-
The bathroom smells sweet, like vanilla. The lights are adjusted so that they appear muted, the scent thickening to the point where your head swims lightly. Not too many bubbles form on the surface, just enough to cover Yoongi decently. His bottom half soaks while the steam rises in tendrils, touching the ends of his hair curly. The water is hot enough to tinge his nose pink, his fingertips taking on a familiar red as he holds the sides so that he doesn’t sink. His upper half is mostly dry since he’s meant to sweat. There are some lukewarm drinks on the recessed ledge meant for shampoos.
Usually, Yoongi would soak in the bath for thirty minutes after the concert, shower, then head to bed. He complains that he gets tired easily these days, mumbling them out in a huff. And you understand, since concerts were an exercise and a half. The rehearsals that came before were equally taxing; you couldn’t do what they did in an hour let alone three.
But you’re sat on a small stool right by the tub, hands intertwined with his. He has a day off tomorrow before the next show, a breather of sorts.
“Does it still hurt?” He asks, breaking the quiet vacuum offered by the bathroom. His voice is weirdly echoey against the walls. You look at your hand in his.
“Feels a bit static.”
He kisses your wrist, the water drips over the edge of the tub onto the tiled floor.
“At least your voice isn’t hoarse,” he said, reaching for the cup. You beat him to it, handing it swiftly. After, he hisses, muttering about the water being painfully warm. Leaning his head on the curve of the tub, his mouth gapes slightly, resting the cup on the ledge.
“We normally have wine,” he says eventually.
You nod, running your thumb along the red bracelet that he put on while rummaging for a change of clothes earlier. The same one you got him for his birthday two years ago. It’s strange to think that you were both able to break your solitude, how the years created this perfect symbiosis. Initially, you were both reserved towards each other. The years did all the work, you think. It’s eroded certain things for kinder things to grow - lovingthings. Now, you do what lovers do. Normally, you did have wine, your legs kind of sticking together underwater, your calves against his thighs.
You’ve known him long enough that there really shouldn’t be anything new left to know. But you still get lost, you still find something, a stray freckle by the inside of his knee, the softness of his hair when freshly dried, how his clothes fit him just right despite being resolutely oversized. The way his hands are calloused from playing the guitar or that his edges aren’t really edges because Yoongi is really soft underneath it all.
“I couldn’t read half the comments during my live, should I get LASIK?”
He sighs, sliding down on the tub, his belly button disappearing into the line of water. He looks good like that, a bit frayed, spent. His hair, now lengthier, a sweeping arc on his forehead, curled deliberately when performing, lays undone. His skin is a bit raw from the soak, you squeeze his hand, meeting him in the eye.
“I like it when you wear glasses.”
It’s not a protest but a suggestion. Yoongi wears these ultra-light frames, it’s scholarly so you call him Professor Min whenever he walks by. He laughs it off, though, like he’s doing now.
“Do you really like them on me?”
He’s opened his eyes, looking at you. Without hesitating, you nod, “I enjoy calling you Professor.”
He flicks some water in your direction, you gasp, doing the same.
“It really suits you!”
You smile at the way he curls his lips, lifting them to form this half-smirk, “fine. I’ll keep them for you.”
-
“We’re meant to be quick -”
“Then we shouldn’t have sat down.”
Yoongi adjusts the water pressure, lathering your hair as he does. It had been easier to stay close to the floor, on small stools. The hot stream of water is rather tempting, coupled with the presence of the person you wanted to see most of the time, if not all.
As he runs his fingers along your scalp, scraping the bubbles down, you consider yourself pretty fortunate in life. You shared this ambition with Yoongi, this relentless pursuit in your chosen niche, hoping that one day, it will all matter.
That if you kept pushing - that if you worked hard enough, you’d get to where you need to be.
But then, you never thought that you’d meet someone like Yoongi, let alone have him occupy your heart. But it’s not quite that, not in the superficial way that romantics refer to, because it’s deeper, tangible. He’s a certain buzz in your skin, his grin seared into your mind, the soft kisses he presses on the side of your face, the scent of mint permeating your clothes.
You didn’t mean to, not really.
Yet here you are, a lot more in love than planned.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he said, rinsing your hair.
“Hm,” you managed, leaning your back on his chest. “Let me scrub you, otherwise I’ll really spend the night here.”
He laughs before moving. Even if he claims that he runs out energy easily, he’s always the one taking care, doing all the things needed to be done before falling asleep with his phone in hand.
“It’s meant to rain tomorrow - take care on the stage,” you find yourself saying, he leans on your hand for a moment as you lather his hair.
“Ah, really? The staff might have a hard time.”
He closes his eyes as the water washes the soapy suds away.
“I like your hair like this,” you said, tucking it behind his ear, the silver hoops clinklightly. He smiles before pressing his forehead on your shoulder.
“Might keep it then,” he said after a while.
You take care of him this time, holding him close, till you end up nose to nose. There’s less to rinse off, the water makes your skin tacky.
“Yoongi -”
“Just want to kiss you, can I?”
The shower runs in a steady pelt, you’re flustered, like he is. You don’t answer because it’s not something he should need to ask. You touch your nose with his, it feels awkward, only for a second until he tugs you close, closer. Your legs adjust, it’s intimate, all too familiar. His breath is warm against you, his hand hovering on the side of your face, on the nape of your neck, his touch brings out a sigh. It’s gentle, as Yoongi always is. Timidly, your hand reaches for his free one, sliding fingers along the spaces, curling your fingertips over his knuckles. You taste the mild peppermint from the tea he had earlier, yours eyes fluttering close. His tongue licks into your mouth, encouraging a gasp from your lips, the kiss is wet and slow and intoxicating. Your hands hold his sides now, fingers on the tense muscles of his back, not quite close enough to placate the desire that lances through you. Yoongi’s always been a good kisser, attentive to your reactions, his lips are soft, his tongue feels too good, far too good that you’re dizzy in seconds.
“Ah,” he sighs, wincing suddenly.
You remembered that you were both cramped on tiny stools. The water cascades along the wall, your skin is pebbled with goosebumps, he shivers a little when you nip at his bottom lip.
“Yoongi,” you said, brushing your lips together, you say his name against his mouth like that.
“It’s late. You need to sleep, you’re tired.”
He nods, but doesn’t move.
“Yoongi…”
Another kiss, lingering on the corner of your mouth.
“Okay.”
-
“What’s that?”
Daylight breaks through the slits in the blinds, Yoongi wanders in, white long sleeve shirt wrinkled, black slacks, hems dragging on the floor. His hair sticks up cutely at the back, a cow-lick that bounces as he traverses the space.
“A bookshelf,” you replied, face warm because he was meant to wake up to it already built, “your birthday present.”
It arrived a little late this year. You were in Gangnam right after the snow cleared. Nearly lost between the aisles, you perused them with no goal in particular, simply to restock the reed diffusers and get new pillows, maybe a new towel while you’re at it. A store clerk maintained a safe distance, her smile small, Do you need any help? You think about it, about the growing collection of books that Yoongi has piled into uneasy towers, threatening to collapse at any second. Do you have any furniture, like bookshelves?
Luckily, you had the first delivery slot, right as the sun drips orange outside and Yoongi slumbers peacefully in the darkened room. The porters came, you chatted for a while, observing that there are more parts coming in than expected. They reassured you that all that was needed was a screwdriver and another person for assembly. Sliding the parts out of the boxes, you worked diligently so that Holly wasn’t startled from where he slept. You stumbled on your hoodie once, hitting your knee against the corner of the coffee table. It wasn’t too arduous after.
“A bookshelf?”
Crouching behind you, he slides his hands through, hugging you close, his arms resting over your crossed legs loosely.
“Yoongi, wait, I’m sweaty -”
But he brushes your hair away, exposing the back of your neck, pressing a kiss there. His chin tucks your shoulder, he’s warm in the way he is right after he wakes up.
“When was this brought in?”
You sighed, setting down the allen key, “it was meant to be brought in beforethe ninth.”
Holly pads into the living room, his soft brown curls like spun gold in the light. He watches the pair of you, tilting his head, his dark eyes probably tired of witnessing your DIY endeavours for the better part of the morning. Yoongi scratches that spot by Holly’s tummy, encouraged as he twists on his back, his belly concealed faintly by a fine smattering of fur. You coo at him, grazing your nail under his chin, till he squirms away from an overload of attention from you both.
“Have you been doing this since this morning?”
You shrug, “it’s meant to be built by two people but I wanted to surprise you.”
“I know,” he said, followed by a small chuckle, “but I like building furniture.”
It was your turn to laugh, kissing the side of his neck, liking the way he gives access, his head falling to the side as you press your lips, slow and soft.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” he offers, in between kissing you, “give you some energy if you really want it to build it by yourself.”
You bite his bottom lip, “it’s just the middle shelf left.”
“Okay,” he replied, kissing you again, “I’ll be back to help.”
He does end up helping you out, and just like that, you’re being taken cared of again. With the shelves slotted nicely, the books appear, side by side, in no particular order. Slim paperbacks, heftier volumes, non-fiction hard bounds, dog-eared copies from his youth. Some books are yours, aged yellow from being kept by the window sill in the bedroom. The stories you’ve consumed in the past two years finally have a home. Yoongi brushes his knuckle along your cheek, his way of saying Thank you.
“It looks nice,” he remarks.
“It helps you see how much you’ve read,” you replied, smiling because he kisses your cheek, “and you also said that you wanted to read more, so…”
“I said that?”
“Months ago.”
Yoongi had been a voracious reader, unafraid to annotate passages of text, things that he wanted as reminders, thoughts, muttering how if he had more time, he could be better and read more. When things slowed, he did, and the books became mini towers dotted around the apartment. Holly collided his snout against a stack at some point, spurring you into action.
“Then you said you might need a bookshelf.”
It’s like this. How when Yoongi says things, you absorb them, drinking his words to easily, accustomed to the taste of him. And, after all these years, the shape of your heart looks awfully like him most times. You tug at the hem of his sleeve, swaying his arm. He says your name fondly, mumbled in that silky timbre.
“You spoil me, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes, running your finger along the spines of the books immediately in front.
“You know, I have the biggest crush on you.”
You tilt your head to see his lips breaking out into a smile, “yah, our anniversary is coming up soon.”
“I know but that doesn’t take away from that the fact that I still have a huge crush on you, is that okay?”
Another laugh, his shy eyes blinking rapidly while his tongue ran over his lip, “I was the one who confessed, though.”
“I gave you a hard time, I liked you from the start.”
He gapes at that, “I confessed at the bus stop in the rain.”
You shrugged, “it was very romantic, very you.”
He shakes his head, launching his fingers, jabbing at your sides, “yah, I was scared out of my mind that you didn’t feel the same!”
You jump away, laughing loudly, “don’t - stop! Don’t you dare!” You warned, trying (and failing) to keep your distance, but your backed onto the couch. Yoongi laughs with you, ruthless even when playful. You don’t mind, it’s a lost battle where you’re breathless, giggling as he inevitably cages you, resulting in a wet kiss on the crook of your neck.
“I forgot how ticklish you were,” he said, peppering kiss along your jawline. And there it is, that latent arousal sneaking up on you. 1PM, still in the clothes you slept in, Yoongi barefaced, gorgeous in the natural light. He kisses and kisses, fingers finding skin too easily.
“Are you leaving later?” You asked, almost succeeding in dragging his shirt off if not for his impatience. Your limbs clash, you both yelp as your elbows collide, the bones hitting in a funny way. But it ends in laughter, messy kisses, and your foreheads pressed together. Your bodies sink onto he leather of the couch, your legs hitching up and over his hips.
“No,” he answers, pulling back, “nothing on today.”
He says this alarmingly quickly, eager like you, lips finding each others in soft, sighing kisses. At a point, you lean back, studying his face. In the very beginning, the tone was decidedly awkward. Before, there wasn’t any time, he was always away, always elsewhere. It made you question whether it could work. Then, the months stretched into years until the truth showed itself without prompt.
Was it always there?
He catches you staring and some part of you thinks he knows what you’re thinking too because he leans forward. The decision falls on the positive. In some way or another, whether you acknowledged it or not, it wasn’t something you could stop anyway.
Yoongi kisses that space below your ear, you sigh, entirely satisfied over a small gesture.
“Bed?”
“We need to eat, you need to eat,” you mumbled, distracted by his caresses, taking little to tumble into this happiness laced pleasure.
“Rather eat something else,” he said, drawing a laugh out of you.
“Wow, you’re an animal.”
He shrugs, flustered for all but three seconds before tilting your chin up, “What? I’m being honest.”
“Yeah?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. He nods, all to easily, you think. His eyes, whether loving, teasing, or even when they get shy and stray, they’re always on you. It makes you giddy.
“I guess that I do deserve your honesty,” you concede, kissing him back.
He sighs, as if to scold, “you do. And more.”
You cling onto him more, “I know. You make it hard for me to forget.”
And because you’re as bad at each other in a sense that you could never say no, you smile into the kiss, moaning softly when he gets closer, adding weight and pressure. You tumble, yielding to him as he does to you and it’s easy, so easy.
Later, in the stillness of the evening, you’ll fall asleep satiated, hands twined until one or the other stirs. And when morning comes, you see that the wall in the living room is finally occupied by the bookshelf you built together, see him play with Holly, then cook you something before he leaves.
You think that there’s nothing better than that.
There’s nothing better than exchanging eager kisses with someone you love on a worn, leather couch as the sun filters through. Or how there’s nothing like the feel of his hand over yours. Or the fact that it’s still nice, as nice as the beginning, made even nicer with the years behind you and the prospect of the ones ahead.
And when he comes back, tired but happy, you’ll have that glass of wine while soaking in the bath, reminiscing about memories that seemed to occur just yesterday. Then, he’ll ask you about the future, as often does these days. Of course, he’ll grow shy, go all pink then red, but it’s alright because you’re secure and have that connection together, so the promises come effortlessly.
◇Summary: you are sleepy and yoongi is busy. And you need to cuddle while sleeping so work can wait when it comes to you.
◇Genre: fluff,fluff and more fluff!
◇Warnings: loads of cuteness because y/n is a cutie patootie which can melt yoongi’s cold . Implied smut just some indirect mention.
A/n : hello hello! This idea was given by my wifey @teluki which inspired me to write this cute little one shot!
Author’s pov
You smiled softly against his chest as his large hand ran up and down your back in hopes of lulling you to sleep. You sighed and gripped his thin white t shirt, relaxing in his strong embrace. Yoongi kissed your head softly continuing caressing your back as you snuggled into his body. You have the habit of cuddling while sleeping. Before you met yoongi, you used to hold your big teddy bear in your sleep because you can’t sleep without holding something. But after yoongi came in your life, the teddy bear was long forgotten because yoongi was really endeared when you told him about this habit at the beginning of your dating and since then he would hold you tightly every time you slept. Yoongi finds this habit of yours absolutely adorable and even after 4 years of dating and 1 and half year of marriage you still sleep in his arms. And that’s why yoongi is always hesitant to leave you alone every time he goes to a business trip because he knows you have trouble sleeping without him besides you.
Yoongi smiled softly when he heard soft little snores coming from you and kissed your forehead when your head lulled back slightly and adjusted your head on the pillow before removing some strands of hair from your face. A quiet chuckle left his lips seeing your chubby cheeks squished against the pillow with your mouth slightly opened . Covering you with the duvet properly he sighed and reluctantly stood up. All he wants to do is get back in bed and continue holding you but unfortunately he has some work to complete. He slowly creeped out of the room as to not wake you up and started walking towards his home studio. He knows that he has to write the song idea that just came to his mind because he will definitely forget it later. Closing the door he sat on his chair and took his notebook and started scribbling whatever came to his mind
Half an hour later, you woke up not feeling the familiar warmth of your husband anymore and a pout settled on your lips when you found his side of the bed empty. You huffed knowing he went back to work again not just because you wanted to cuddle but also because you were worried he might overwork himself again. He has the habit of working continuously for hours without eating or drinking anything and it had been hardly 3 hours since he came home and he is wondering again. Still you didn’t want to disturb him. It might be important if he got out of bed to complete the work. So you sighed and cuddling in the blanket hoping to fall asleep again. But no matter how much you tossed and turned, sleep didn’t came. So after contemplating for another 5 minutes you finally stood up and wore one of his hoodie before making your way towards his studio.
Knocking the door once , as expected you didn’t got any response. So you opened the door and walked inside shivering slightly because of the coldness in his studio. How does he not freeze and can work normally in this temperature? “Yoongi” you called him softly while tapping his shoulder and he jumped slightly before turning his chair around and removing the headphone “ y/n? Baby why are you up it hasn’t been long since you slept” he mumbled pulling you closer noticing the sleepiness in your eyes. You yawned standing in between his legs and absentmindedly caressed his hair “i can’t sleep” you mumbled softly feeling your eyes getting heavier “can’t you work tomorrow?” You continued with a pout which he is sure you didn’t even noticed. He looked back at his laptop and then at back at you sighing tiredly “no baby I’m sorry but i have to complete this today” your pout increased with your sleepy mind not processing anything more than the want to be held by him “but i want to cuddle” you whined childishly rubbing your eyes and a tired smile creeped on his face. No matter how much he wants to pick you up and sleep while holding you he wants to finish this too because he has been stuck at this song since weeks and he can’t let the inspiration and ideas of the lyrics go “I’m so sorry babygirl but i need to work right now. It will only take about an hour can you try to sleep until then?” He said a little strenly making you bite your lip knowing he might get irritated if you kept on pushing him . Now feeling a little selfish you nodded hoping to mask the sadness and took a step back making yoongi immediately want to pull you back to feel your warmth again.
“It’s okay i know work is important. I’m sorry i disturbed you” you said not looking at him and walked out of the room closing the door behind you and made your way towards the bedroom while yoongi cursed under his breath and pushed his hair back sighing. He couldn’t ignore the guilt creeping inside him because he knows you can’t sleep without him and still sent you back. You shouldn’t look so hesitant to ask him about anything and he hated that you did.
You layed back on the bed sleeping on yoongi’s side hoping that his scent will help you fall asleep and closed your eyes snuggling in his pillow. You can’t believe you disturbed him just because you wanted to cuddle. So lost in your internal thoughts you didn’t heard the door opening and closing and you were surprised when you felt the bed dipped behind you and his arm wrapped around your waist with his another arm snaking under your head. You held his hand which was under your head and whispered “yoon-” “shh go back to sleep kitten. I’m sorry i got mad at you” he murmured kissing your neck softly “it’s okay you can work i will be fine yoongs” you whispered caressing his arm adoring how good it felt wrapped around you. “No. Work can be done later. Now go to sleep I’m tired” you giggled and turned your head slightly to kiss him and he immediately responded kissing you back sleepily but you let out a surprised sound when he suddenly started sucking your bottom lip gently “hey! I thought you were tired” you giggled when his lips chased yours and covered his lips with your hand causing him to grunt “it’s okay we can sleep in tomorrow” “no mr min you are going to sleep right now so no funny business” you said hovering your lips on his teasingly and pulling back when he tried to kiss you. He groaned but still let you snuggle in his chest and pulled you closer. “You sure you want to sleep?” He asked huskily while pressing a wet kiss under your ear causing you to shiver and slap his chest .
“Yes i do"you stated causing him to grumble while you tangled your legs with his while he scooted down and layed his head on your chest snuggling in your soft skin "good night yoon” you whispered closing your eyes and heard a deep mumble “night kitten”
The next morning he took his revenge just so you know.
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“Y/n?” You jumped slightly hearing your fiance’s voice suddenly and turned around wide eyed while yoongi bite back a chuckle because you looked absolutely adorable in your oversized t shirt with your mouth full of chocolate ice cream “yes?” You squeaked out hiding the tub behind your back not so sneakily causing him to smile “what are you doing princess?” He asked already knowing the answer but wanting to see what you’re going to do “umm watching the stars?” You said without thinking anything while yoongi hummed walking towards you causing to walk backwards till your back hit the counter “and where are your stars baby” he mumbled taking the ice cream from behind your back causing you to whine and try to take it back but he gave you a look causing you to pout and huff “i was hungry!” He wrapped his arm around your waist looking at the tub which was now half empty causing him to sigh “then you should have woke me up baby and i could have made something. You just got well do you want to get sick again?” He scolded you gently and you shaked your head and buried your face in his chest with the pout still on your lips “m sorry” your voice came out mumbled and he kissed your head “it’s okay” he pecked your lips and continued “do you want to eat a sandwich? I’ll make some” he mumbled already pulling away but you whined and shaked your head feeling your eyes getting heavier with all the ice cream you stuffed “I’m not hungry now. Sleepy” you mumbled causing him to laugh and he nodded “alright then let’s get you to bed” he said and bend down picking you up bridal style and you wrapped your around his neck smiling sleepily and kissed his neck softly before nuzzling your face in his warm skin. He smiled fondly at your habit of becoming clingy whenever you’re sleepy and continued walking towards the bedroom when you mumbled something “yoongs” he hummed closing the door with his leg and his movements halted for a moment when you whispered “i want to have kids” and he looked down at you to see you already closing your eyes and smiled walking towards the bed. His mind now filled with having a little you or a little him running around in the house and their bright laughs bouncing on the walls. Laying you on the bed gently he kissed your forehead before whispering against your skin “i would love that babygirl” you smiled softly and pulled him down with you and he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled your leg up so that it was wrapped around his torso. And just like that, you both fell asleep being tangled against each other with both of your minds filled with the happiness coming in the future.
And tomorrow after you unexpectedly throw up the first thing in the morning, you both also got to know the reason why you wanted to eat pickles dipped in chocolate last week
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A/n : I’m back!
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Summary: destiny tries to separate you with the one you love the most. But as everyone says, two people who are in love with each other always find their way back.
Genre: angst in the beginning, smut at the end with happy ending.
Warnings: swearing, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of past abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of rape, mature content, soft dom yoongi, soft sex, yoongi just loves you a lot
Author’s pov
Sometime in March, 2013
You took a shaky breath and hugged yourself as a harsh wind blew past your bundled up form. Your body tensed up when you heared the familiar deep voice which gave you comfort at one time but now you just wished for the ground to swallow you. “Hey babygirl ” he said sitting besides you on the bench. His eyebrows furrowing slightly when you avoided his eyes and scooted towards the end of the bench when he tried to pull you closer. “Is something wrong?” He asked soothingly and a small cry almost escaped seeing how confused he was. You shaked your head and blinked back the tears which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was in front of you in a second. Crouching down in front of you ,he took your cold hands in his , with his another hand rubbing your knee gently. “Baby look at me please” he whispered with pleading eyes . You know he hates seeing you cry and you hate how much worried he looks for you. “W-we need to talk” you whispered shakily and his grip on your hands tighten, out of nervousness. But he still nodded and gave you a small smile “what’s wrong ” you took a deep breath and managed to croak out “l-let’s break up” for a moment, time stilled. You saw how his body visibly tensed up and he swallowed thickly before asking “why? Did i….did i do something wrong?” You shook your head and tried to free your hands from his grip but it tightened as soon as you tried to push him. “Y-you didn’t do anything wrong yoongi. It’s just…I’m doing this for your own good” “No” he said harshly and stood up pushing his hair back before taking a deep breath and looking at you with unshed tears in his eyes “please…please tell me baby. I-i promise I’ll fix it baby. I-is it because I’m not stable right now? You know my training at big hit has started . We are finally about to debut. I promise I’ll-I’ll give you everything you want. I promise I’ll work harder baby” he was now almost begging you. But he didn’t care. Not when he is so close to losing you. He can’t lose. You are his everything. His whole world. He won’t be able to live without you. A soft sob escaped your lips hearing his words. Of course you aren’t leaving him because of that. You don’t care about money. You don’t care that you both live in a small house. Because it’s home. “No yoongi. Please try to understand me. I-I’m doing this for you” your broken whisper caused a flame to ignite inside him which soon turned into anger. “No! No you aren’t y/n! You are just being selfish. You want to break up with me but you won’t tell me why. Let me fix it .Please, please baby you promised you will never leave me” the last words came out as soft whispers and your heart broke at how his voice cracked in between. You almost broke down when he said those words
“J-joon” you moaned loudly as another wave of pleasure hit your body causing you to see stars while Namjoonsmirked looking at your weak body helplessly squirming under him. He groaned when you clenched around him tightly causing him to thrust inside you hard “fuck babygirl how are you still so fucking tight?” He grunted when your nails scratched his back leaving red marks but he didn’t give a damn about. You whined looking at him with half closed eyes and pulled him down to a messy kiss. Your tongue and teeth clashed before you pulled back and attacked your lips to his neck sucking harshly causing him to growl and fuck into you deeper and a cry of his name escaped your lips “d-daddy!” He groaned and suddenly pulled out but before you could even whimper at the sudden emptiness, he turned you around making you lay on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You both moaned in sync as he entered inside your even tighter asshole. The new angle giving him much more access to every part of your warm and plush ass hole. Your face was squished against the pillow and a line of drool was seen too but you could care less when your fiancee was literally fucking you into the mattress. “Yeah? You like that? Fuck baby i shouldn’t even let you cum with the way you were teasing me the whole night. Were you that desperate for my cock? Fucking slut” you moaned shamelessly nodding as you became a babbling mess “y-yes daddy! Like your cock so much” you cried out as the coil forming in your stomach snapped and you came without a warning causing namjoon to groan “you are so fucking beautiful. Bet you will look more beautiful with my seed right? ” you nodded immediately and he chuckled darkly “makes me want to fuck a child inside you. Would look so fucking pretty round with my kid” “y-yes! Want your seed joon” you gasped when he shooted his load of heavy cum inside you with a low moan of your name. Before he fell besides you breathing heavily. After a few minutes of just heavy breathing he asked “ tomorrow is your day off right?” “Yeah why?” You mumbled feeling your eyes getting heavier which widened when he suddenly flipped you around and hovered above you with a smirk “then let’s put all those baby shoes to use babygirl ” you moaned at his words and your hand went to stroke his already hard cock.
A prompt list because i can’t think of anything . Just select a member with the numbers and you can tell me if you want the ending to be happy or sad. It can be smut too! And they can be of any au’s whether it’s ceo or mafia
Request open!
BTS
Fuck you aren’t making it easy for me
You promised you wouldn’t leave me
Let me make you forget him
Can i kiss you?
You know i would do anything for you babygirl
I need you
I can’t fucking live without you,can’t you see that?
Let’s get married
I can’t do this anymore
I love you more than him
I’m in love with you
Let’s stop this
I don’t fucking care
You are the only one for me
Is she mine?
You’re my everything babygirl
Do you love him?
I’ll protect you
I’ll fucking kill myself if anything had happened to you
He will regret this
I’ll never let anything happen to you
I’m not letting you walk out on me
I’m sorry for walking out on you
Just know that i love you more than anything
You’re pregnant?
I can’t believe my own daughter would betray me like this
You’re nothing to me
You’re mine before him
You’re mine
I never stopped loving you
I hate you but i hate myself more because i can’t stop loving you
Fuck the things you do to me
Burn that dress. I’ll buy you another one
No baby, I’m in charge here
You’re so fucking beautiful
No you’re not going anywhere
Are you fucking crazy?!
Do you want to die?!
Thank you for not leaving me
Talk to me baby
I don’t care you’re married
I love you dammit
I swear she is nothing to me
Please believe me baby
I can’t believe you
Do you even care anymore?
You’re making me crazy y/n
Fuck I’ll shoot a bullet in her head if she tries to hurt you again
Can’t you see that he is just using you?!
Why do you have to bring that up every single time?!
Yn slept soundly as Yoongi tossed and turned, his mind plagued with different thoughts, making him sleepless and alone in the middle of the night. He craved her attention, it had been weeks since they had properly had each other, and yet, here was Yn, sleeping without a care in the world. She’d give sleeping beauty a run for her money.
She looked ethereal, tucked into his black sheets, her hair sprawled out on the white pillows, her back turned towards him. He tsked, reaching out to roll her over so he could admire his beautiful darling. She let out a grunt as she turned over, her crop top riding up her chest as she did so. She didn’t bother to pull it back down, leaving Yoongi with a drool-worthy display of her tits. He swallows as he stared at it, his mind racing as he questioned if he should make a move. ‘Fuck’ he thought as he reached out, scooting closer to Yn so he could get his hands on her. His palms, finding the swell of her breasts easily. Yn, let out a sleepy moan as Yoongi toyed with her hardening nipples. “Shh, go back to sleep,” he coaxed, his hands still on her breasts. He resumed his ministering when he heard her breathing even out again. Flicking her nipples and squeezing her tits which were the perfect size for his hands. He went closer, lowering himself so his face was at the same height as her chest, his lips descending onto her nub with no mercy at all. His teeth lightly gazing her rock-hard nipples, making Yn moan, but Yoongi was too far gone to care, he sucked on her nub his hand toyed with the other. Pulling slightly harder and much rougher as he felt a primal need to make her cum. He left marks and hickeys all over as he continued his game. Yn’s breathing was heavy as Yoongi’s hand trailed down her stomach to her panties, her core, wet from the lack of attention. He ran his finger over the length of her soaked cunt, a smirk on his face.
“Such a good little whore, so wet for me even when you’re asleep,” he growled into Yn’s ear as she let out a whimper, still asleep. His tongue relentlessly worked on her tits as his fingers prodded her tight little hole, bringing her closer to the edge.
Yn whined when she felt Yoongi add a third finger inside her, but that didn’t stop him. He simply coaxed her back to sleep, telling her to let him do his thing. Yoongi groaned when he felt Yn’s hole clench around his fingers, her orgasm close. He picked up his pace, his movements rougher than earlier, biting into the soft flesh of her breasts. Yn breathed heavily as she felt her orgasm ripping through her body, creaming all over Yoongi’s fingers. “Fuck, such a good girl Yn,” Yoongi praised as he pulled his hand away from her, Yn just let out a sleepy moan which was quickly shut when Yoongi bought his cum drenched fingers to her lips. She opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out to eat up the mess that she had made with his fingers. “Fuck, I love you,” Yoongi groaned as he got up, grabbing tissues to clean both him and Yn up before climbing back into bed. Placing a kiss on top of Yn’s head, he pulled her close, spooning her as he smiled to himself. What had he done to get such a good girlfriend he thought as he drifted off to sleep.
Summary:It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?
Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff
Warnings:Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi
A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!
Word count: 14K
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10:43 pm
It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.
Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.
Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.
