#min yoongi scenario

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (3)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ still angst (but u can breathe now bc it’s the finale), brother’s best friend AND single dad au, jealousy, yearning from all angles, did i say angst alr (mom-wise and brother-wise), fluff, redemption ]

notes: this is it for the chronological series of fail-safe :-) from the bottom of my heart thank you so sooooo much for reading n loving!!! sharing fs with the lot of u is an experience (and era) i'll never forget!!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Your trip back home isn’t as rough as you expected it to be. 

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between coming home alone and coming home with Jungkook. There’s an irreplaceable weight in your chest that still flares even at the mention of Yoongi, the anger you have towards him mixing with the trepidation of holding everything in you, not just him, for another three days. There’s an angry rash around your fingertips just waiting for you to pick on your nails until they’re raw because atleast in that way, you get to forget the way Yoongi’s hand picked up yours in the dark.

There’s an ache in you that not even Yoongi and Hyewon could undo by never having met in the first place. It’s long been there, perhaps even older than Haneul. The ache of unfulfillment in you is bred by everything significant in your life — all from your first argument with your mom because of your lack of direction in life, to your latest heartbreak that keeps manifesting into your first ever.

You're no longer angry recounting the fact that you weren't destined for greatness. Namjoon turned out beyond great, world-renowned even, despite living in the same home that you did. Maybe it's not your environment or your lack of a passion that hindered you — maybe, it's just you alone.

Maybe, some part of you had ached too much from reaching (read: loving) too far up, you're doomed to live the rest of your life unfulfilled. Yoongi's never been yours, but the way your heart withdraws from him is as if he's always been.

You've done your share. You've completed your fill. You've worked yourself to the bone to make anything (not something, and certainly not everything) out of yourself that even if you're not decorated in sports like Namjoon nor celebrated in music like Yoongi, you have a fail-safe to fall back on.

You're earning more than the white collars you could recognize from your old yearbook and even if it's to look after someone, to look after Jungkook and his craft, and neither use your actual degree nor make a name out of yourself — a part of you feels fulfilled.

If being fulfilled meant being in the shadows as a manager; if it meant caring for someone in a professional context yet in a way you've always known with practice, with love, through the years– you'll take it.

You'll take the peace of being fulfilled without a trophy than to be listless trying to compete for first place.

You're fulfilled now to be sitting at the passenger seat of your own car because despite having never been to your place anymore, Jungkook fought with you in order to get his hands on the wheel.

You're fulfilled now, even if you only took Jungkook's silly suggestion (read: insistence) of fake-dating him just so you wouldn't have to face your family and Yoongi alone. You're fulfilled despite having no real place in neither men's lives.

Oddly enough, Jungkook wants to be both. He wants to be fulfilled and compete for first  place in a position in your life that he can't even say to your face.

Jungkook holds you right in the middle of the living room, his eyes wide and grin sparkling as if the director had already said action! and the task for him was to act out what being in love looked like, right in front of his female lead's family in her childhood home. (Read: he isn't acting at all.)

“And he’s…?” your mom lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face. 

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook onceagain with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat hours before his alarm was supposed to go off to cook dinner for everyone, even if it was only yourfavorite. The anxiousness that bubbled in his veins when he was asleep was going to burst and while Yoongi thought nothing of it initially, he realizes in panic that it was actually pointing to something. 

He woke up next to Haneul and he was placated momentarily, but the knot tied around his heart tightens twofold when he sees Hyewon on the same bed.

On your bed.

The guilt that filled Yoongi then was enough for the bile to creep up into his throat, making him stagger outside to find Namjoon pacing right outside of his own bedroom. His personal phone’s tucked in between his ear and his shoulder, his hands preoccupied scrolling through whatever it is on his work phone. Yoongi momentarily stops his panic to inquire why the hell Namjoon’s panicking and why did he just see a glimpse of your social media accounts pulled up to the screen, your following list staring your brother in the eyes.

“What? What happened? Is it Y/N?”

Namjoon only looked at him with nothing but pity and guilt, the resentment he had for himself bleeding through the way he shifted his gaze to him.

“She saw you and Hyewon.”

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep since.  

He didn’t even blink when Hyewon thanked him and said her goodbyes. He wasn’t even fazed when his ex-wife kissed Haneul goodbye and his son only resumed playing with his blocks. Yoongi hadn’t even tended to himself throughout the entire night, surrendering himself to be awake in your couch in the far event that you’d come home.

Yoongi wanted to follow you home, except almost exactly similar to the past, he had chased you out of what’s supposed to be your own home in the first place. The difference now was that he didn’t mean for Hyewon to be on your bed at all, let alone your room, but in the back of Yoongi’s thick skull — he figures that it won’t be enough for you.

Yoongi waits for you all night throughout the morning like a loyal dog waiting for its master, his chest rising up and down in hope yet his chin down in despondence. You do end up coming back home though, but your presence is neither unaccompanied nor for him.

With you is Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend.

If only Haneul hadn’t asked for his bottle to be brought upstairs because he’s watching cartoons on Yoongi’s laptop, he would’ve collapsed on the floor then and there, uncaring of the way everyone else would be looking down on him.

If only Namjoon’s gaze wasn’t flitting to him to gauge his reaction because it’s the first time he’s, or by everyone else rather, hearing that you have a boyfriend, Yoongi would put his hands on his head and curse until his piercing migraine suddenly disappears.

If only your mother wasn’t here, frozen in the kitchen mostly because of what you just revealed and who you came home with, and partly because she’s waiting for him to finish washing Haneul’s bottle, he would’ve thrown up right in the sink.

Yoongi gathers all his pain and keeps it shut within himself until he gets you alone, catching you by the staircase when everyone else has dispersed.

“I’m sorry. Namjoon told me what you saw and-…” he stops himself when you look up at him with an innocent yet empty gaze, the weight of it (or lack thereof) startling him. “Let me explain why Hyewon was there in your bed.”

“I don’t want to listen,” you enunciate clearly, keeping your voice down because both Jungkook and Haneul are a few steps away. You do it for their sake and not for Yoongi’s, the bitterness in your chest physically restricting you to think about his state.

Yoongi pushes on, breath already catching in his throat when you’re still stiff as a stone. You haven’t even made a break for it yet; he only unconsciously held onto you out of fear that you’ll be out of his sight. “She was in the area because her parents are old and they don’t know much about selling their house here a-and well, she knows that I did the same for my parents when they sold ours. Nothing happened. I just helped her with the sale! S-she was playing with Haneul in the living room while I napped a-and, I just… when I woke up, they were right next to me. Y/N, I swear, nothing-…”

You shake your head fervently, the innocence of his reason doing little to break the seal in your stomach. You feel it dropping once again and even if Yoongi’s right, even if he’s saying the truth, the sight alone of him appearing to be a part of a happy family jogs up all the pain.

“I don’t want to listen and you don’t have to explain either.”

“But I hurt you. That’s why I want to explain,” he stutters. Yoongi’s eyes are so glassy, you could see your reflection in them.

“Oh. So you know,” you whisper, teeth harshly digging into your bottom lip. “I hate Hyewon for a lot of things but not for being the mother of your child. That’s out of my reach. I get it. She’s his mom and that’s that,” you admit, the vacancy in your chest and on your ring finger reminding you what Yoongi had never given you the chance for. “What I hate is that you let her sleep in my room. Seeing Haneul in there is good. You and him? That’s okay because I let you sleep in there,” you heave, voice close to breaking because of how you force it to be tamped down. “I hate how you let her sleep in my room, Yoongi. I-I, I fucking hate it because it’s just like that time I caught you practically fucking her in my room.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-…” Yoongi sniffles, tears already pouring. The staircase in your house is far too narrow to hold the both of you, let alone your history. “I didn’t think. I didn’t notice, a-and, I didn’t think. I didn’t think at all, Y/N. I thought it was okay for a split second because we looked like-…”

“A family,” you finish for him. “I get it. I do,” you nod your head fervently, your own hand snaking to your lips to stop the sharp inhale that pains you from the inside. “Almost everyone loses their sense of reason when it comes to family.”

“I didn’t notice she already entered the room. But I-I woke up,” Yoongi still swears up and down, adamant on his truth that you aren’t open to entertaining because he’s hurt you far too many times before. “Hyewon and I… we’re not. We’re co-parenting.”

“Still a family.”

“But-…”

“What the hell do you want to hear from me, Yoongi?” you snap, voice finally toning down when you notice faint footsteps coming from the second floor. “Do you— do you want me to agree with you and say that the three of you aren’t a family? And for what, s-so that could somehow excuse you for everything you’ve done? I don’t even know what family’s supposed to mean at this point!”

From upstairs, Namjoon suppresses a sob.

“My mom doesn’t know a single thing about all of this. I-I can’t even cry to her because I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of protecting you, your son that she looks to as a grandson, a-and even your mom who’s her best friend,” you break into tears, ignoring the baby towel that Yoongi keeps on his person all the time that he offers to you. You sound far too defeated, and maybe you actually are, that Yoongi lets you push past him. “Meanwhile, my own brother probably knows everything but his first instinct is to protect you. Not me, his actual sibling. You.”

.

.

.

Namjoon had been waiting for you upstairs. He’s been barricading the door to the bathroom because he knows you can’t go to bed without your nightly shower, and because he knows that out of every space in the house, it must be the only one left wherein you can be truly alone with no hint of Yoongi.

“We have to talk,” he gets out as soon as you make eye contact with him, the towel that’s slung on your shoulder almost falling at the urgency to which he pulls you aside.

“It can wait.”

“I need to apologize,” he pleads once again, gripping your wrist gently like he had always done when you were kids to get you to listen to him.

“And I said it can wait. I can’t stand you right now,” you grit, the tears on your cheeks barely being dried up when Namjoon, unsurprisingly, decides to apologize to you within the same timeframe as Yoongi. They hadn’t planned it at all — the guilt and remorse weighed far too heavy for them to actually communicate.

“Where will you sleep?” he asks instead, exhaling heavily because you’re insistent on not crying again in barely your first night back, again. “Where will Jungkook sleep?”

“We’ll sleep together in a hotel.”

“Hotel?” Namjoon asks loudly, eyes bulging in shock. His voice is far too loud that everyone in the house (and maybe even your neighbors) must have heard him. “That’s nonsense. This is home, Y/N. You don’t have to book a hotel.”

“It is?” you seethe, your closed fists tightening on themselves painfully. “Did you also say the same thing to Hyewon? To Yoongi in the first place?”

“It’s my fault for-…”

You’re unaware that you and Namjoon are neck to neck until your mom chimes in out of nowhere, her gentle eyes asking more questions than she’s actually uttering. “What’s going on?” she switches her gaze between you and him. “Are the two of you fighting?”

“No,” you answer in unison, unable to fit a relieved sigh in between the terse silence.

“It’s nothing, mom,” Namjoon puts a hand on your shoulder, his smile tight and tense. “I was just telling Y/N that she doesn’t have to book a hotel.”

“Why would you book a hotel?” she gasps incredulously, her tone being the exact copy of Namjoon’s just a second ago.

“It’s just crowded in here, mom. That’s all,” you muster a sheepish smile, your posture slouching the more you realize that there’s no way out.

“I can ask Yoongi and Haneul to transfer to Namjoon’s so you can-..”

“No-!” you interrupt her in a hurry, breath hitching at the mention of him. “No, no. That’s unnecessary. I don’t want to sleep in my room.”

There’s a loaded pause between all of you, even between the door that Yoongi has his back on as he listens in.

“You and Jungkook can take my room instead,” Namjoon insists, his offer only barely scratching the surface of the apology that you truly deserve.

“Great. Thanks,” you conclude, already halfway into the bathroom when the sudden thought strikes you, your curiosity (and limit, by extension) getting the best of you to ask Namjoon while your mom’s still here. “How… how much longer are they gonna stay here?”

“I… haven’t asked yet,” Namjoon admits, the animosity you have towards Yoongi not going unnoticed by your mother.

“You need to ask then,” you quip. “This house is too small to have everyone and anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook woke up in peace from sleeping in a bed that isn’t his.

Even before you actually got to shower (and not just sit on the toilet seat whilst trying to compose yourself) since you forgot to retrieve your clothes from your suitcase, Jungkook was already starfished in the middle of Namjoon’s bed. It’s a touching sight atop your own blanket and bug spray that your brother put in for you.

The two of you are far from okay. As a matter of fact, the only people you’re truly okay with in the house is your mom and Haneul; despite knowing that fully, Jungkook still dived in head-first in the middle of your situation. You’ve tried to dissuade him all throughout the five-hour long car ride, and not once did he even budge.

He’s here for you and no one else. He’s snoring in the middle of your sibling’s bed whom you aren’t in good terms with. He’s at ease with you in a province that he’s never stepped foot in, all because he felt compelled to protect you somehow and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Jungkook cares for you, enough to write a note and place it beside him just before he went to sleep, telling you that he’s a messy sleeper and to either jolt him awake to move or just manhandle him to the side so you could also sleep on the bed.

You go for the latter, trying to pry him as gently as you could (but even if you just hauled him like a sack of potatoes, he still wouldn’t wake up because he’s at ease too much; it’s you, of course) before finally calling it a night.

You may have lied awake mulling over the perpetual ache in your chest, but you didn’t cry at all.

Eventually, you fall asleep to the sound of Jungkook snoring.

.

.

.

Jungkook may have slept earlier than you, but he makes sure that you stay in late. (read: he physically tucked you into bed so snugly, you probably can’t even shift your shoulders by a centimeter). He wants to pull his weight around a house he hasn’t even been in, even if you hadn’t asked him to — you’d never do, because even as a manager and not as a fake-girlfriend, you don’t let him lift a single finger. Simply put, Jungkook feels this massive pull, not to perform for you, but serve you.

He finds himself quietly going down the stairs, still in his socks because you had stolen his house slippers just last night and he doesn’t have the heart to ask you to give them back. He’s quickly figured out the kitchen, getting a soup started before he allows himself to sit on the dining table by himself.

It turns out that Jungkook’s not alone at all.

“Hi.”

His ears perk at the soft voice that comes from the side of him, eyes immediately setting on the toddler who’s still dressed in his pajamas and has a similar case of bedhead to him.

“Hey buddy. Nice bangs,” Jungkook chuckles invitingly, pulling out a chair for Haneul to which he gets up on easily by himself. 

“My appa cut them for me,” he answers with a smile, shyly pointing to Jungkook’s forehead with an eager finger. “You have bangs too. Who cut yours?”

“My girlfriend. I think she can be a hairstylist one day,” he hums, not feeling guilty over lying to him when it’s only a half, easily-corrected lie. You may not be Jungkook’s actual, real girlfriend, but you did cut his bangs when he asked you to. He couldn’t be bothered going to the salon and you didn’t have the energy to argue with him otherwise, so that’s how he ended up with choppy, viral (it only became viral because he has them) bangs that gained him a few dozen articles or so.

Jungkook doesn’t have kids of his own, but what he does have are several nephews and nieces. He’s the youngest of four children, and that’s perhaps the reason why he could empathize with you. He’s never been through what you have, and although you would never wish for him to do so, a part of him wants to know what it’s like — not because he seeks the pain, but because he wants to know how he could empathize with you better

With Jungkook being Jungkook, it’s perhaps the reason why he’s one of the gifted few people who could strike up a sensible conversation with a toddler and make them laugh without doing anything at all.

Something about Jungkook makes Haneul laugh so loudly, he wakes up almost everyone in the house in peace. Even Jungkook’s attempt at lame jokes tickle Haneul more than the way Namjoon’s ever tried in earnest to make him laugh.

You’ve already slinked past the two of them on the dining table, tending to the soup and the few hundred side dishes Jungkook started on but paused just to talk to Haneul.

“Haneul, don’t believe your uncle-…” you chime over a playful dig that Jungkook makes in your expense, the giggles that had only been filling your ears just seconds ago instantly ceasing when you notice Yoongi standing near you.

“Uncle?” he raises his brow at you, turning his attention to his son. “Haneul, what did I say about talking to strangers?”

“But he’s not a stranger. I saw him in that movie!” he frowns, the immediate awe that slips out of Jungkook’s lips not helping his case in the slightest.

“Still a stranger,” Yoongi smiles tightly, his exhale dragging out as he mulls over the eerily domestic sight of the three of you.

“But he’s Uncle Kook,” Haneul reasons with him, pointing his finger at you. “He’s auntie’s boyfriend.”

.

.

.

Yoongi’s softened a little bit since breakfast.

He was never mad at Haneul in the first place (more like halfhearted because he still stands by his lesson of not teaching him to talk to strangers, even if they’re a worldwide-famous actor, but those are not his words at all) but what he is annoyed about is the scene that he walked into.

It looked far too natural for you to look like Haneul’s mom and for Jungkook to look like him, maybe even better as a dad despite not having children at all, that he thought he was seeing red.

Haneul’s lying on his shoulder as they rewatch Bluey for the second time in the living room, the shadow of your alleged boyfriend walking past him until he registers the accent, later doing a quick turnaround that makes Yoongi ultimately irritated and Haneul more than happy.

“Oh cool. I love Bluey!” Jungkook says sincerely, inviting himself to sit on the lone sofa chair to watch the episode.

“Wow, you’re just so… quirky,” Yoongi mutters under his breath with a roll of his eyes, his snarky remark making Jungkook’s ears tingle. The latter scoffs slyly, making him finally acknowledge Jungkook, albeit sarcastically. “So what do you do, Jungkook?”

Even before he could answer though, Haneul does it for him with an excitement that only comes out whenever he’s talking about his favorites.

“We watched his movies in the cinema, appa! Remember?”

“Did we?” Yoongi narrows his eyes, playing his huff into a cough. He repurposes the tinge of embarrassment that he feels into snark, running a hand through his hair cockily. “I’d for sure remember an actor if they were good.”

( ♡ ) 

“Where’s your brother? I need him to do the heavy lifting.”

Your mom asks you with an urgency that parents only past the age of forty could possess, her lips already parted awaiting your response towards a question she asked just two seconds ago. 

Even if you weren’t engrossed on an episode of Bluey (Jungkook and Haneul put you into it and you get their laser focus now) just now, you still wouldn’t know about your brother’s whereabouts. Yoongi saves you this time, his response piquing both yours and Jungkook’s interest.

“He’s in practice. Joon took Haneul with him so he could learn too.”

Jungkook looks up from his phone sharply, eyes wide in eagerness. He and Yoongi haven’t even looked at each other since yesterday yet their coordination (read: competitiveness) syncs with the other at the exact second, their insistence on tagging along a menial task making you jolt.

“I’ll come with, mom!”

“I’ll come with, auntie.”

It’s not a competition, yet Jungkook jumps up to stand so quickly, his head almost brushed the ceiling. “Let’s go, babe,” he holds out a hand for you, making you clear your throat as you’re still trying to gauge the situation.

“But what about Yoongi? Poor thing, he’ll be left alone,” your mom awes, her pout only deepening when Yoongi pretends to look crestfallen at being overlooked. He doesn’t have to pretend that much because despite not being the biggest fan of grocery-shopping, especially in your area because it always smelled of eggs despite barely carrying any eggs, he’ll jump at any task to impress your mom, and you by extension.

“I don’t think you should worry-…” you start, already being interrupted in an instant.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Two pairs of hands are better than one! They really have to do some heavy lifting because I forget to tell you about that one time your aunts hounded me for-…” she trails off while telling you a story about your supposedly huge extended family, blissfully unaware that there’s two men fighting to open the door for the both of you.

Yoongi’s driving his car as the most spacious option, making Jungkook snicker under his breath as he blames himself for not bringing his SUV which is clearly more expensive than whatever Yoongi’s driving, even if you elbow him lightly by the ribs because you didn’t ask him to do that.

“Mom, what are you doing here? Go sit in the front,” you nudge her, unwilling to sit next to Yoongi in an enclosed space.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I was just used to you always taking shotgun whenever Yoongi’s driving,” she squeals, fondly clapping to herself as she revisits the memory. “Do you remember that, sweetheart? You’d always fight with Namjoon because Yoongi got his license first.”

It may only be your mom who’s leaning against the center console to look at you in the back, but it doesn’t mean that Yoongi’s ever taken off his attention from you.

“I remember,” Yoongi smiles, looking at you from the rearview mirror. “I never forget.”

.

.

.

The grocery store hasn’t changed one bit. 

It still smelled of eggs, the lights still aren’t as bright as they should be, and there’s still trinkets that you’ve always been swayed by being displayed near the register.

You’re taking it all in after not having been back for five years, whereas Yoongi strolls right in, but never ahead of you, as if he’s visited multiple times already since he left your town. 

Your mom and Jungkook are side by side as he asks her a question you can’t even discern, only getting to know his actual agenda when you hear his sneakers skidding against the floor as he runs towards the pushcarts. 

Yoongi, without even knowing the full context, runs after him because he didn’t want to come in second place for whatever it is that Jungkook’s challenging him to.

“I’ll steer the cart,” Jungkook presents definitively, his hand raised mid-air as if he’s being graded for eagerness alone. He looks like he wants to prove himself even if it’s only you and your mom present; no director, no producer in sight who sizes him up. 

“No. I’ll do it,” Yoongi argues out of nowhere, his bruised hands reclaiming the cart under Jungkook’s grasp. He’s not even looking at your mom because his gaze is only fixed on Jungkook who’s just two tugs away from actually spitting at him.

“I said it first,” your pretend-boyfriend forcefully pulls the hunk of metal away from Yoongi, the latter coming along with it for the briefest of seconds before he does the same, this time with Jungkook gasping.

“What, are you method-acting for your next role as a cart-steerer?” 

Your mom’s a little perplexed at the scene before her, lips parting in both concern and amusement because for a pair of people who haven’t met each other before, Yoongi and Jungkook are oddly competitive. They want to provesomething, anything, and maybe everything so bad, they neglect the fact that they look ridiculous fighting over a pushcart. 

“We actually need two,“ she says to no one in particular, thinking out loud as she goes through her grocery list. “I think maybe even three because-…”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook rushes out in panic, almost bumping into you in the process. You were only gone for a minute to retrieve your phone from the car and yet he already looks breathless, the knot between his eyebrows untangling when he realizes that it’s you. “Oh. Sorry, babe.”

“I’ll get it, Koo,” you murmur, catching the tail end of what your mom said about the pushcarts. Jungkook’s cheeks are tainted pink in frustration and you can’t help but to be concerned, the back of your hand already flitting against his forehead before you know it. “Are you okay? Sorry, the AC in here is not like the AC in the city.”

“Huh, what? Oh no, it’s okay. I just got into this heated cart argument,” he waves you off, eyes rapidly moving between you, your mom, and Yoongi who’s mirroring his exact actions, except for the glaring hint of annoyance with the way he’s standing so close to you.

“Cart argument? What’s-…”

“We need meat.” 

You barely even have a chance to digest what Jungkook’s saying to you before you see him glitch right in front of you in a hurry, the only words to register clearly in your mind being your mom’s. She’s absent-mindedly talking herself through her grocery list (as she always does) and yet the two men right next to her hang onto her every word, the speed they take off on giving you no clue to why they’re acting as such.

“I’ll get it, auntie!” Yoongi gets out even before the wheels of his cart could cooperate, momentarily tripping over himself. Jungkook sputters at that, the laughter that builds in his throat being interrupted because he realizes that the other guy is ahead of him and he simply cannot bear that. 

“Beef. We need beef, right, mom? How many kilos. Like… ten? Okay. I’ll get it!” Jungkook dashes even if he’s never been in this grocery store before; even if your mom hasn’t said a single word to either of them.

You’re left dumbfounded in the middle of the store, your gaze unable to locate the distinct sounds of both of their sneakers skidding against the floor. 

“I didn’t even say anything,” your mom mutters in confusion, eyes flitting to you with a wonder you can’t place because even if the both of you are lost, she seems to have a better idea than you do. “Are they… competing over you, sweetie?”

“Competing? Me? Why would you even say that, mom?” you huff, leaning against the cart as you snatch her list to get the things she’s actually looking for.

“I don’t know,” she lulls, shrugging carelessly before nudging you. “Jungkook’s your boyfriend and well, I assume Yoongi’s always wanted to be in his position.”

“How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“Small town. Few people. Cute girl, cute guy,” she places, the end of her hypothesis being accompanied by a chuckle. When she says it like that, it sounds far too easy — it sounds far too seamless, you almost wish it was exactly that. “I didn’t even take the news that Yoongi was going abroad seriously because I thought it was a joke. I thought he could never move on from here or Namjoon,” your mom pouts, tilting her head when you freeze. “Much more, he could never move on from you.”

“He did,” you answer through gritted teeth, the grip you have on her list making the paper crumple underneath your hold.

Your mom doesn’t know everything. In fact, you don’t even know if she knows anything at all. You don’t despise her for her lack of involvement because you want to keep her from the chaos of your burdens, and you’ve always wanted to keep it that way.

But the way she speaks now, so full of conviction and faith, you find yourself despising it. She speaks as surely as the way Yoongi speeds past the both of you, weaving through aisles to get items she didn’t ask for, competing for and against a higher power (read: you) that Jungkook himself seeks. 

She says it so surely, it’s as if she knows about every waking thought that Yoongi’s ever had in your absence.

“It doesn’t look like he did.”

You ponder over your mom’s adoration for Yoongi, most of which you can’t decipher if it’s misplaced or not. You know he’ll always have a special place in her heart and in her home because she’s known him even before he was born because she’s best friends with Mrs. Min. 

Yoongi has a place in your life, no matter if it’s in your own or in the lives of the people you love. He probably has a modern penthouse in Namjoon’s life, the decoration in it improving over time. On the other hand, Yoongi probably occupies an ancestral cabin in your mom’s life that’s been well-maintained for longer than he’s ever been alive, the decor in it being handmade and resilient through the years. 

In your life, however, you can’t tell how and if Yoongi occupies it in the first place. For the longest time, his place in your life had come in the form of a mansion that not even a single architect nor engineer could ever think of. For a moment too, Yoongi’s place in your heart came in the form of a little house on a vast farm overlooking the mountains and the sea. Throughout all the houses that Yoongi’s shape-shifted to in your life, you doubt now if he could ever turn into them again.

When you think of Yoongi, all you see is your room. 

When you see Yoongi, all you could remember is your childhood house and its shortcomings in your life, especially when you needed to come home to it— to him, the most.

“I’ll pay, mom,” Jungkook snaps you out of your reverie, his whine making your ears ring.

“What? No, Jungkook. This is all too much,” you refuse vehemently, trying to fight him from extending his black card any further.

“It’s not. This is for your family anyway. I, I might have even grabbed extra portions for myself because mom said she’ll repeat tomorrow what she did for lunch today,” he grins, momentarily losing himself to the sight of you that he doesn’t even notice he’s in the process of being one-upped by Yoongi.

“Jungkook, baby, I’ll feel-…”

“I paid for it, auntie,” Yoongi announces, making your lips part and Jungkook’s jaw drop.

“You shouldn’t have, Yoongi,” you scold him softly, a whine already building at the back of your throat but he waves you off easily. Your mom’s thanking him profusely in the background, and while Yoongi’s pleased with the attention, his gaze remains on you.

“But I wanted to,” he insists, pursing his lips. “I should.”

“You’re not family,” is what you want to say.

“But I want to be,” is what he wants to scream.

Wordlessly, Yoongi puts a plastic toy ring he bought from the register into your bag. It’s pink and it’s star-shaped, its mold still the same from all those years ago.

.

.

.

You barrel into your mom’s room just to see Namjoon.

You bit at the chance of giving him the stuff he’s asked for from the grocery as per your mom, taking advantage of her focus on organizing the groceries downstairs to have a one-on-one with your brother.

“You have to make Yoongi drive into the city tonight. Either that or he flies to the US. The reunion is already tomorrow,” you seethe, crossing your arms as he sighs in defeat.

“It’s already late. Yoongi’s driving with Haneul, a kid, alone,” he emphasizes, running a hand through his hair as he himself is troubled by you being in a bind over everything. “And he can’t book a flight back on such short notice.”

“Short notice? What, did he just happen to book a one-way flight and not a round trip one?” you snort in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief. The thought actually cracks you up because out of the three of you, Yoongi happened to be the one more adept to websites despite your limited materials back then. Namjoon remains silent, and with how serious he looks, your face falls.

You can’t believe Yoongi at all.

“He did? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joon,” you groan, throwing your head back. “What, does that mean Yoongi gets to stay in our home while we’re in this godforsaken family reunion?”

Namjoon delivers yet another blow, his revelation making you more enraged than the last.

“Mom invited them.”

“What? Why?!” you exclaim, chest rising in frustration. “Yoongi’s not family, Namjoon. Atleast not for me.”

He doesn’t miss your added remark at the end of your sentence, the underhandedness of it making him look down on the floor. 

Namjoon feels guilty, he really does, but he can’t seem to make it right. He couldn’t even fight you in insisting to apologize that night.

For each day that you try to delay the inevitable of confronting him and letting him taking the fall, of letting him apologize, Namjoon feels more like a big failure for an older brother than he already is. 

“But he used to be,” he says under his breath, looking up at you with a stubbornness you can’t place. “Your lifetime versus those five years — which one amounts to more?”

( ♡ ) 

Everyone gushes over Jungkook.

In an altitude higher than the mountainside that you’re in now, the aunts, uncles, and cousins you didn’t even know you have squeal over your fake boyfriend. By the fifth relative, you’ve already got your routine down of letting them hug you and kiss your cheek before holding Jungkook’s bicep, acting as his bodyguard to make sure they don’t squeeze him too hard or not at all.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook is your boyfriend?!”

“I knew it, I knew you were gonna have a partner who’s famous! I dreamed about it when you were-…”

“If that’s your boyfriend, then who’s he?” your cousin (?) whispers to you, cutting himself off as he turns his gaze to Yoongi and Haneul. They’re most certainly not your family, meaning that they’re unrelated to everyone present, so what your relatives (some more nosy than others) can’t wrap their heads around is the fact that there are strangers in your family reunion.

It takes one, two times for your mom and Namjoon to explain who they are and what they’re doing here in the first place, the chorus of nods eventually signaling that they’ve moved on. Some of them could even recall Mr. and Mrs. Min from the neighborhood, and Yoongi could only nod.

It’s not that he doesn’t belong right now — he actually feels the opposite. Yoongi feels that he has a place amongst a barrage of relatives he’s not affiliated to by neither blood nor paper, and it pains him; not because he’s scared of belonging, but because you probably don’t think the same way.

Haneul runs to him underneath the umbrella he’s isolated himself at, his son grasping an assortment of cash, food, and juiceboxes Yoongi most certainly did not pack in Haneul’s backpack from the night before.

“Auntie’s family is really nice, appa. Look what they gave me,” he shows everything that his hands could carry, breathing heavily in excitement as he explains that your relatives told him to come back once his hands are empty.

“Oh dear. They really think you’re adorable,” he laughs, pocketing Haneul’s cash (he swears he’ll give it back) and hiding some of the snacks he’s been given so he wouldn’t give himself heartburn eating too many at once.

Yoongi’s smiling from ear to ear, sitting Haneul in his lap as he overlooks the view of your town from above. Everything looks so small and delicate, you’d almost think none of what laid downhill ever even mattered. He didn’t get views like these in New York. 

Yoongi didn’t get people like you in New York.

“Mama’s family isn’t this nice,” Haneul speaks out of nowhere, his thoughts uttered out loud directed more-on to himself than it is for his dad. Yoongi stops in his tracks in trepidation, shoulders tensing over what his son just said. “They never play with me like this. Not like auntie.”

He knows Hyewon’s relatives, albeit not that well. Her family members in the US were not this kind, not this warm, even to a child who’s actually related to them.

Yoongi’s stuck in his thoughts the whole time Haneul sips on his juice, finally being snapped into his reality nowwhen you approach their direction. His son waves at you excitedly even if you’ve just crossed paths minutes ago.

“Here, Haneul,” you hold out a container to him, the gentle smile on your face limited to only him yet Yoongi, for a lack of grace, pretends it’s also for him. “I tried my best to make it look like Bluey,” you chuckle, pointing to the mini sculpture made out of the marshmallows and blueberries that your relatives set aside for him.

Haneul beams at you, thanking you profusely. If only he wasn’t sat on Yoongi’s lap and therefore grounded, he would’ve launched himself at you to hug your legs.

Yoongi takes the hat right off his head, putting it on you while you’re crouched next to his son.

“It’s hot,” he explains, his heart continuously speaking beats the longer that you linger beside Haneul and the longer that he giggles in excitement. “I know you get headaches easily.”

( ♡ ) 

Despite being reachable, Yoongi still yearns for you.

He yearns for you even if you’re only within arm’s reach, sitting near you but never close enough at the long table because with you, he feels safe. He laughs in the background like it’s a sitcom to every joke and every episode of banter thrown around him. He doesn’t feel out of place with your family — he feels out of place with you.

He’s never been a wickedly jealous type. Even when he and Hyewon were still together and she cheated on him, Yoongi felt more resentful than he was jealous. He didn’t feel this type of way; he didn’t feel inferior. He didn’t feel like he was nursing a loss in his life because he has no choice but to. Yoongi had managed to divorce Hyewon because it didn’t work out between them, and that was that.

Yoongi can neither divorce you nor pull away from you because you’ve never been with each other. He harbors no resentment for you and that scares him, not because he wants to hate you so badly, but because he feels as if everything you’ll do to him, he’ll take it.

Yoongi will take it even if you set a plate for Jungkook despite unconsciously forgetting what he’s always disliked eating when you were still kids. He’ll take the serving tray from your hands still, uncaring if eating the tiniest bite of the food you’ve passed gives him an allergic reaction because you were the one who offered.

He’ll take it even if you hold Jungkook’s bicep in a hurry when there’s a bug that’s getting awfully close to your drink. Yoongi would walk to where you sit and dispose of it wordlessly because even Jungkook himself is scared of bugs. He doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him, because atleast now when he looks at you from a distance, you’re sitting in relaxation and you no longer have to hold your boyfriend.

He’ll endure the jealousy that burns through his throat more than the poorly-made, highly-alcoholic vodka your uncle made himself. He’ll hold onto the poison that is yearning and how he’ll feel like his throat would close up because if you were still young, in this setting of free rein, except you were still in love him like you used to be and he’s in love with you like he is now, neither you and Yoongi would be hurting.

Yoongi will take it. He’ll take the nothing that you give him and give you the everything that you don’t ask for anymore.

Five years versus the rest of your lifetime that you spent being in love with him is only miniscule. The suffering that he’s going through now is only a speck of the years you’ve spent in an unrequited love.

Unlike you, Yoongi’s weak. If he were to say it outloud to you, you’ll never agree because you’ve never regarded yourself otherwise. You’ll go on this tangent that you’ve always been weak, influenced by the times that Yoongi had chastised you for your lack of a passion. 

To you, Yoongi had been right in a way.

To Yoongi, he’s always been in the wrong.

He’s crying to you now that the both of you are alone, overlooking the small town he used to be keen on getting out of. Now, more than ever, Yoongi wants to stay in it. He wants to stay with you.

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most. 

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife. 

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop becausethat’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

“I love you,” he says it far too clearly for someone who’s drunk; far too sincerely for someone who had spent the better part of his life putting it through your head that he can’t return your affection. “I’ve always loved you.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t feel good.

There’s a fever that’s starting to bloom from the base of your skull all the way to your toes, the abnormal warmth you feel in your chest making you unable to interact with everyone else outside of your room. Jungkook had left with your uncles before dawn to go fishing in the nearby lake and never would you think to inconvenience him; to tend to someone like you for something as minor as a fever, or for anything at all.

You already have a system down for taking care of yourself when you’re ill. It started when neither your mom nor your brother were home with you, and it was finally perfected when you had to live completely alone in the big city. All you had to do was gather all the energy you have, spend it at the start to get everything you could possibly need and put them all at the side of your bed, and rest until everything no longer hurts.

The major flaw with your system now is that you don’t have the energy at all. You can’t build up the strength to get up, walk across the hall and interact with your relatives, and rummage through groceries to get what you need without being questioned; you can’t build up the sense of importance you have for yourself to ask for help.

Namjoon comes into your room before you could dance around the idea of asking him to get you water, all because he has this innate sense of guilt in him and you could utilize it to your advantage. Your brother gets ahead of you before you could even register that he’s here with you, his eyes sullen and pleading.

“Can we talk?”

“I can’t exactly storm off right now,” you rasp, your voice fading out into a low chuckle.

“Do you want to talk when you’re able to storm off?” he asks sincerely with a small smile, his hand fixing your hair as gently as he could without making your migraine ring further. “If you do though, then you probably might never hear me out again.”

You stay silent because he is right, but Namjoon feels otherwise. He feels as if he hasn’t been doing anything right at all and you existing separate from him is a constant reminder. His career is at its peak but he thinks he could go higher; his relationship with you is deteriorating and he doesn’t think it could possibly be worse.

“I’m sorry for being a shitty brother,” he apologizes, the first thing out of his mouth being the last thing that floods his mind before he goes to sleep at night. “I should’ve never defended Yoongi, even Hyewon by extension.”

The heat behind your eyes isn’t all from your fever. The tears that prick your eyes aren’t because of the pressure in your head, but because of the fact that you haven’t heard Namjoon apologize to you in a long time; you haven’t talked this sincerely for even longer

“I should’ve put you first,” he sniffles, muttering apologies in between his pauses for finding the right words that would make it okay; that would somehow undo all that he’s been an accomplice to. “I should’ve been this reliable, sturdy man of the house. I-I should’ve been more of a father figure to you-…”

“Don’t,” you interject sternly. “You never filled in his shoes and you should never will. You’re only mom’s son and my brother, Namjoon. It’s never been your job to raise me.”

Even after everything, there’s a gentleness to you that Namjoon’s always loved but hate the most now. He hates that even if he’s the one who’s apologizing, you’re the one who’s saying sorry for the things you didn’t even inflict on him. Neither of you wanted to be raised by only a single parent, yet you absolve him of the guilt he’s always felt.

“But I could’ve been better. I wish I was already better from the start.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think how hard life was for you growing up. I-I would’ve given up football if only-…” he trembles, unable to get the last of his sentence out because you shake your head in earnest.

“Stop.”

“But I mean it. If only I-I didn’t get into football, I could’ve been there for you and mom much often. I could’ve been better and-...”

“But I grew up to be okay, didn’t I? You’re the best at what you do. We’ve managed to retire mom early because we put in the work,” you whisper, the shrug of your shoulders feeling more heavy that it should feel because the words don’t come out easily from you. 

“But okay shouldn’t have been enough for you,” Namjoon tears up, bottom lip trembling as you try to take in his words that you’ve always wanted to hear at the back of your mind; you hear them now when you’ve already grown up. You hear them now after you’ve already endured the grief. “I— we should’ve given you the fighting chance to grow up more than okay.”

.

.

.

It’s not Jungkook who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because you’ve temporarily banned him from the bedroom. He only pouted in complaint when you called him, but he didn’t fight you that much either because you’ve called him out for the excitement in his voice to go hiking for the first time.

It’s not Yoongi who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because Haneul asked him to teach him Go (he’s not even that good at it and being the ever unable to show incompetence and have pride especially when Jungkook’s watching father, he discreetly asked lessons from your mom) so he’ll be able to play with your cousins.

Instead, it’s your mom who visits you. Even if Namjoon hadn’t tipped her off that you were feeling under the weather, she’s already had a feeling this morning.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks, her hands full of everything you could possibly need and more before plopping them at your side. She makes you sit up even before you could complain, handing you a drink with some medicine you didn’t even know she carried

“Just a little fever,” you answer, getting back into your cocoon. 

You don’t even attempt to make conversation because you fear that you don’t have it in you to have a heart-to-heart talk with your mom just minutes after you’ve had one with Namjoon.

You don’t even say anything to her except your thanks. Namjoon didn’t even tell her about your conversation, even if he approached her with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes while saying that it was just allergies.

Your mom feels the guilt spring to her chest even if you don’t utter a single word. She feels the remorse in her eyes when you don’t ask her for anything more. She feels the guilt the most in her hands when you don’t ask her to stay.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like there wasn’t enough space for your burdens growing up.”

“What?”you scramble to get up in a seated position, eyes hazy from how quick you do it. “Mom, you scared me. Where’s this coming from?” 

She shakes her head at your cluelessness, eyes stinging when you genuinely look at her innocently. You don’t know what she’s talking about, even if the thought has plagued her for so long.

“You’re not really okay, are you?”

“It’s… just a fever,” you mumble, your breathing already trembling at the way she looks at you.

She’s looking at you like you’re still a kid; ever so fragile and innocent, it’s as if she wouldn’t let a single thing in this world harm you. She doesn’t know a single thing about your feud with Namjoon and your long drawn-out conflict with Yoongi. What your mom does know is that she doesn’t know a single thing about the heartbreak you suppress, and that thought alone makes her hiccup in tears.

“You’re right, you know? Our house is small,” she says, distinctly recalling the tensioned conversation you had with Namjoon back at home. “It’s tiny but it was far too big for you growing up alone,” she inhales sharply, trying not to sob in front of you. “He wasn’t in the picture. I was working a hundred jobs left and right. Namjoon was trying to make a name for himself,” she shakes her head, so much so that the necklace she’s had since you were children, the same one with yours and Namjoon’s birthstones on it, rattles. “I’m sorry for making you feel that you can’t come to me.”

In just a full day, you’ve heard everything that you’ve ever wanted. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted during the school plays where you had no one from your family, except Yoongi, to watch you become an extra up on stage. He’d always deny that he did show up for you and just say that it’s because he was genuinely interested in a play about a poet he didn’t care about in reality, but you take it nonetheless.

It’s everything you’ve ever prayed for watching Yoongi live a life far too advanced for you as he held Hyewon’s hand after school. It’s what you wanted to hear when you begged him not to leave you behind.

“I-I’m okay. I’m really-…” you stutter, looking away before your tears fall in the fear that they’ll never stop.

Your mom only hugs you tighter.

“I’m here if you want someone else to carry your burdens,” she whispers. “I’m here now.”

( ♡ )

It’s the last day of the reunion when you fully recover, and it’s hours ahead of everyone when Jungkook has to leave by himself.

Without even asking for it, Jungkook grants you another week’s worth of break. You didn’t even plan on asking, yet Jungkook’s willing to give you a month if only you do. 

You’ve already arranged for his personal driver to pick him up and take him back to the city. You’ve already packed his bags, along with the multiple containers of food that your relatives (and especially your mom) insisted for him to take. You’ve arranged for your substitute to take care of him for his schedules throughout the week, along with the insistent reminder to call you whenever Jungkook needs you. (Read: he does, with or without a schedule.)

Everything is set for Jungkook to leave except for his driver who’d been roped by your mom to be filled with breakfast first, yet with the remaining minutes left, Jungkook’s still with you on your bed. 

He lies on your lap even if there’s plenty of space for him to lie parallel to you on a pillow — and you let him.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” he asks in the middle of you texting your substitute, the randomness of his thought already being familiar to you. This time, unlike the few thousand times he’s ever asked you something straight off his mind without refining them, is different.

It’s different now because your pretend-boyfriend asks you if you’ve ever thought about kissing him, while looking like he really wants to kiss you.

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, looking down on him on your lap. 

Not once does Jungkook ever look away from you.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, pointing up at you. “Your lips are close to bleeding and it’s bothering me.”

“Sorry for turning you off,” you snort in laughter, wiping at the tiny specks of blood. Jungkook tuts when you rub at them, feeling for his lip balm out of his pocket.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stresses, going a little cross-eyes when he applies them for you. His eyes keep goading you, the smile he has on his face widening the more that you look at him incredulously. “Sooo… have you?”

You don’t want to lie to him at all.

“If I answer yes, Jungkook,” you toy around with his hair, setting your phone face-down because you can’t focus on anything else now. “We can never come back from that.”

Jungkook laughs in glee so loudly, Yoongi (who was only passing by; he really, really swears he didn’t just happen to eavesdrop in your room because Jungkook’s driver is all done eating and wants to beat traffic) actually flinches.

Jungkook strains to be closer to you, unconsciously training you to lean down. His lips are far too soft — far too close to you, you could see every line and every nuance in them. He whispers, eyes practically crossing at your proximity.

“And is that such a bad thing?”

( ♡ ) 

You’re back at home when Jungkook texts you that he’s made it back safe, and that he wants to kiss you again.

You’re back at home when Yoongi asks you if he could use the bathroom first because Haneul spilled milk on him during the drive. You’re in your childhood bedroom when you let him clean up first, and you’re sitting on your childhood bed when you volunteer to put Haneul down because he’s cranky and for some reason, wants to be held by you.

You’re back at home too when Yoongi and Haneul are knocked out for the night, and your mom calls you and Namjoon down for all three of you to talk at the dining table.

You’re back at the home you were raised in, sitting on the dining table that’s creaky when more than two people lean their weight into it, in the space you’ve roamed around alone waiting for them to come home, when your mom talks about wanting to sell it.

“You want to sell?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, exchanging a glance with you who’s as equally surprised as he is.

“Yes. It’s under my name, y’know? Not that… man’s,” she snorts, the off-hand mention of your father making you and Namjoon laugh unexpectedly. Your mom looks at ease as she talks about selling your house, the smile she has one her face being shaped with experience and grace. “I doubt the both of you would want to keep this, and besides, the offers I’ve kept for years now are high. You already know that big-shot companies have been buying out houses here for years now because of the growth potential and whatnot. Who knows, maybe our block will be turned into a mall!” she shrugs, the happiness in her tone infectious. 

For someone who’s decided on letting go the house she’s both struggled and strived in, your mom’s beyond excited.

For two adults, who were once kids, who’ve seen the amount of sacrifices your mother’s put into the place by herself, you and Namjoon don’t have any objections.

“Also, consider this as me asking for permission to go on a vacation, even if I’m grown, because some people get so paranoid when I don’t answer calls,” she digs at you and your brother, immediately inciting coughs because you two, in fact, are guilty of worrying over your mom too much. “I’m going on this worldwide trip with Yoongi’s mom,” she grins, pulling out one last surprise. “We’ve talked about it since we were young. She’s earned her stripes working abroad, I managed to raise two amazing children as a single mom. We’ve earned it, I think.”

You and Namjoon share a glance once again, this time more definite than the last. You’ve made up already as far as your mom could tell, and that confirmation is what she needs before finally selling the house you all grew up in.

“You’ve earned it more than anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s packing up for their flight tonight when you go into your room to pack up the life you’ve lived there.

“You’re coming with me and Haneul?” Yoongi jokes when he sees you pulling out your own luggage, the tone of his voice highly suggesting for you to become serious. He gets you to smile and that’s big enough of a win as is, the remainder of it more than substantial to hold onto when he’s away from you. Again.

“No, unfortunately. I’m packing up the room and eventually… the whole house,” you answer with a chuckle, voice trailing off when you see the crestfallen look on Yoongi’s face. He looks like someone who’s just absorbed the largest pain to man as he’s trying not to make it obvious. “We’re posting it for sale two weeks from now.”

Yoongi nods tightly, inhaling sharply as he tries to maintain his steady tone. “Then why are you packing up already?”

You could do this tomorrow. As a matter of fact, you could do it tonight because you don’t have to drive them to the airport. You have all the time in the world within two weeks to do this, yet you go into your room now when Yoongi’s still in it.

When Yoongi still hasn’t left, and neither of you know when you’re gonna see each other next.

“I have to get a move on. If I don’t move now,” you trail, voice close to trembling as you open cabinets you’ve never even given the time of day before. “I’m scared that I’ll keep holding onto this house.

Yoongi nods, even if he fully understands — even if he doesn’t want to swallow what you’re saying.

“You want out?”

“We want out — me, mom, Namjoon,” you explain, looking at him properly for the first time since he told you that he loved you. “For the longest time, we’ve held onto this place because we became this house at one point. Namjoon’s this world star, my mom’s traveling the world with your mom-…”

“Oh, they’re finally doing it?” Yoongi interrupts, a smile finally coming to his face at the news. He hasn’t talked to his mom in a month from how busy he’s been, and although he’s always missed her (even if they’re on much better terms than he and his dad could be), he’s happy knowing that your moms have each other atleast. “How about you? What will you be doing?”

“I’ll just be… living day-to-day. I’m not doing anything extremely special, but I’m happy and busy doing it,” you laugh, looking around your room that hasn’t appeared this clean, this warm, since you last stayed in it. “No one’s going to be around here anymore.”

As if on cue, Haneul runs to Yoongi’s arms to be picked up. He knows what the luggages mean and because he’s largely in denial that they have to leave later (as referenced by him crying to your mom and Namjoon), Haneul keeps pretending to sleep so that their trip gets delayed.

Yoongi’s about to put him on your bed even if he knows his son’s antics already, but in the fear that he’ll actually get to sleep and they don’t get to leave (which he isn’t opposed to at all), he keeps him in his arms.

You, on the other hand, take Haneul from him when his arms outstretch for you.

There’s the sentiment of you not having to do it that’s resting at the tip of Yoongi’s tongue but he holds himself back, the image of you and Haneul completely fitting one another, he wants to burn a copy of it to his retinas and designate it to be the last thing he’ll see if he ever goes blind.

Without putting Haneul to sleep on your bed, he goes to sleep in peace in your arms.

“Do you regret it?” Yoongi asks throughout the silence between you, sitting next to you at the edge of your bed. “Do you regret ever liking me?”

“I do,” you answer truthfully, rubbing circles at the Haneul’s back. “I regret knowing you.”

Yoongi takes the responsibility fully, even fuller than the way both your hurt and happiness could make or break him.

“I can’t take back all the hurt I’ve caused you,” he admits just as honestly, turning to look at you. He becomes surprised to learn that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. “But what I can promise you is that I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

“I have my share of faults too.”

“Eh. Mostly mine.”

“Mostly yours, yeah,” you laugh easily, nodding to yourself as you continue. “But I held onto you as much as you didn’t hold onto me. That’s my mistake.”

Yoongi stays silent at that, not because he agrees, but because the bias that you’ll never be wrong in his eyes overtakes your humbleness.

“Do you think he’ll remember the entirety of the trip?” you ask, gesturing to Haneul who’s already sleeping like a hibernating bear in your hold. “Or will Haneul just remember that time the power went out because he cried a lot?”

“Oh, he’ll remember everything alright. He’s good with retention and people in general,” Yoongi waves you off. “Even if he didn’t come along the trip— even if we didn’t crash the whole thing, Haneul would remember you.”

“Who am I to him?” you ask in curiosity, lips turning into a straight line before they curve in the slightest. “Appa’s friend, I bet.”

“Not really. You’re a lot of things to me,” Yoongi chuckles, looking at the way Haneul grips you as if you’ll float away if he lets go; he’d do the same too. “More like my first love.”

Yoongi loves you quietly.

He loves you quietly with the way he draws the curtains downstairs when you sleep on the couch, tired and stressed over a solution you couldn’t understand. He loves you with the way he’ll scoop the warmest, freshest, least-burnt portion of rice to your bowl without you even asking for it. He loves you with the way he’s willing to let you walk all over him.

He loves you quietly in the way that not even distance nor time could disrupt him.

Yoongi loves you quietly, it might have been too much.

“Is that a lottery ticket?” he asks suddenly as he spots the familiar face of it inside your luggage, tucked into the discreet pocket where your mother’s letters of encouragement when you went to the big city were also kept

“Oh, it’s still there,” you answer, in surprise yourself because even if this is the same luggage you use whenever you go out of the country with Jungkook, you’ve never noticed that it was still there. “I bought it when you left for the US.”

Yoongi stops in his tracks in retrieving the scratch ticket from the pocket, looking up at you in curiosity. “Why did you buy one that day?”

Haneul stirs in his sleep in your arms, waking up right at the middle of you and Yoongi being lost in each other. He mistakes the silence as a signal that they’ll be leaving already, making a mess of himself as he quickly goes down the stairs to look for your family there and cling to them instead.

You and Yoongi are alone again.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, grasping the scratch ticket you used to spend hours looking. “I guess I just needed some proof that fate was against me that day.”

“But how would you even know that?” Yoongi asks, pointing to the card that’s still covered. “You didn’t even scratch it.”

You answer honestly, the reason burnt to the back of his mind.

“Because I knew I would lose my mind if I actually lost.”

“Try,” Yoongi swallows, nudging the ticket closer to you with a gaze that mirrored yours when he left. “Try again. Please.”

You have nothing else to lose.

Yoongi isn’t yours to lose.

You retrieve the same old coin Yoongi gave to you on the same day that he bought you your first scratch ticket, the appearance of it from your luggage making his heart skip a beat.

He doesn’t speak and neither do you, gaze only fixed on the way you scratch the card almost hesitantly, as if you’re still scared of the results of something that you should’ve known five years ago. (Read: you still are.)

When you get to the last digit, you freeze. You comb through the pattern over and over again, yet you still can’t believe it.

You’ve won the highest possible prize.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot Yoongi, looking up at him as he can’t believe it either.

“You won.”

“I won,” you repeat, running a hand through your hair. You actually laugh, the lump in your throat subsiding. It’s a welcome, albeit loaded, feeling of happiness that comes in between the two of you. “I thought I would lose,” you mutter bitterly, shaking your head. 

You didn’t lose. Fate wasn’t against you that day, and yet you still lost yourself thinking subconsciously what the proof of it would’ve been.

“Who would’ve thought, right?” you sigh, eyes drifting to Yoongi. “If only I took that chance years ago, I would’ve won.”

Yoongi smiles tightly, breath faltering in recollection.

“I’m familiar with the feeling,”

Yoongi doesn’t get to finish packing for him and Haneul and neither do you with your whole room, the shift in the atmosphere suddenly making him stand.

He’s breathless and he doesn’t know what for, the rapid beating of his chest making his voice louder than necessary. “Hey, what do you say you take a break? I’ll pack up your room. I have to stay alert anyway for Haneul."

You thank him before leaving him alone in your room.

Yoongi can’t find the strength in him to pack. The only power he has left in him is for him to think of taking everything out from his luggages, the thought of leaving again, this time worlds different than the last when you were begging him not to — he feels like throwing up.

Yoongi’s merely an amalgamation of you. He’s only a compilation of your every word, every feeling you’ve implanted in his heart. He’s filled with nothing but your every triumph and shortcoming; every late night hanging out with you as you attempt to study while he keeps you company, every minute he spent going out of his mind trying to look for you when you ran away from home.

Yoongi loves you silently to the point that he gets out of your room without accomplishing a single thing he said he’ll do just awhile ago.

In the grand scheme of things, Yoongi realizes that he was wrong. He was as wrong as you were right that the moment he leaves home, he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for it. 

Even if you left your home like he did, even if neither of you could come home anymore the moment your childhood house gets sold, Yoongi would still search for it. He’ll still search for you. You’re no longer where you were, but you are everywhere that Yoongi is.

He looks for you in Namjoon’s room, to the dining table, and all the way outside, just to ask if he and Haneul could stay for dinner.

Yoongi finds you and Haneul eating sundaes on the pavement outside, with you on the ground and a scrap cardboard underneath Haneul so it wouldn’t be hot for him.

Fate hadn’t been against you five years ago. And even if he’s much too late, Yoongi could only pray that fate isn’t against him now.

He walks over to where you and Haneul are, grabbing another scrap of cardboard to put underneath you.

Yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

#WHEWWWWWW HOW R WE FEELING!!!! #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

[yoonlattesworld]

Can I request a filthy kitchen sex with corruption kink? Please? Maybe be married au

Do that thing with your tongue-MYG

Synopsis: it's just as the title says. You ask him to do that thing with his tongue which makes your toes curl.

Genre/warnings: husband yoongi, married au, kitchen sex, messy sex, filthy sex, unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), praise kink,corruption kink, name calling,bare chest yoongi which started it all ^^

A/n: why not~

Yoongi masterlist

A gasp left your lips as your hips buckled up with your fingers tugging his long hair with a broken moan "y-yoongi..!" You could feel the vibrations of his deep chuckle against your weeping cunt which threw you into another level of pleasure. His one hand gripped your thigh with his another one pressing against your stomach to hold you down against the kitchen counter. His nose was pressed against your pubic bone as he licked a long stride of your pussy, groaning at the tangy taste of your arousal. A whimper of his name left your lips as his tongue entered your pussy and you felt your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he tongue fucked you. The sound of him slurping your juices made your cheeks go red as you whined in embarrassment.

"Y-yoongi m'gonna cum!" You gasped as his finger rubbed lazy circles over your womanhood with his filthy mouth sucking your clit harder and your mouth hanged open as he mumbled "them cum for me doll" quickening his movements. Your back arched and your eyes clenched shut as your high washed over. A loud moan leaving your lips as he greedily gulped down your sweetness with a low growl. And you could only whine breathlessly as he licked you clean.

You might be wondering what you were doing, laying on your kitchen counter at 9 in the morning with your husband in between your thighs. Well, it all started when you woke up alone in the bed, and came downstairs after freshing up. You had already woken up horny and the sight of your handsome husband yoongi, shirtless in the kitchen making breakfast did wonders to you.

Only wearing one of his white t shirt and a pair of panties, you walked towards him and hugged his warm back. He had chuckled fondly as he placed his hands on yours, which were wrapped around him. "Morning,babygirl " he mumbled turning around in your arms and kissing your forehead before pulling you in his bare chest. You snuggled in his warm chest cutely whispering a small "good morning yoon" before pecking his lips shyly. It was all going well, until he could see the outline of your hardened nipples over the thin t shirt and you noticed how his eyes darkened at the sight. Reaching behind him, you turned off the stove, whimpering softly as his hardening cock brushed against your belly before whispering "yoonie?" He hummed gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him "doll?" . His breathing starting to get heavier as he rutted his cock against your stomach and you whispered "do that thing with your tongue"

And that's how you ended up on the counter with a fucked out face. But it wasn't over. He took a little sniff of your panties as he took them off of your hanging legs and licked his lips. You could feel him getting up and opened your hazy eyes to see him taking off his gray sweatpants. Your eyes falling to his hardness and a soft moan left your lips as his cock slapped against his abdomen before standing tall and hard.

You gasped, giggling softly as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were sitting "not done with you doll" he mumbled pulling up the t shirt you were wearing, leaving you bare to his hungry eyes. His eyes fell to your heaving chest, pressing against his and he groaned. You whimpered as he wrapped his lips around your pebbled nipple, licking it,biting it,sucking it. You are sure you will be bruised up by the time he's done with you. "Y-yoongi " you whispered as he switched his attention to your second bud and he hummed massaging your ass. You grabbed his hand, guiding it in between your thighs and gasped when his large hand cupped your sex "need you here" you whined wrapping your arms around his neck. He grunted feeling your wetness against his hand and mumbled "gonna fuck you so hard you'll be dripping with my cum for days" as he lined himself to your entrance. A squeal left your lips when he slammed his cock inside your cunt, your hands gripping his shoulders as you both moaned simultaneously. His thick cock hitting that sweet spot , sending shivers down your spin.

"So fucking tight even after how good i fucked you last night" he groaned, bottoming out before slamming back inside causing you to moan his name loudly. Fuck. The way you were moaning his name, the way you were hiding your face in his neck to muffle your moans, it reminded him of the time he took you for the first time.

Your marriage was arranged by your parents so you both decided to go on a few dates and get to know each other. He still remembers how shy you were every time he took you out. When he kissed you. You wanted to wait until the wedding and he had no problem. And on your wedding night when you told him that you were still a virgin, it almost made him go insane. The only thing in his mind at that time was that he'll be the first one who'll get to touch you.

And it made him want to fucking ruin you.

To make you a desperate little whore eager to jump on his cock. To completely change you from your shy and innocent self to the cock slut you are today. Oh how much he had tried to control himself, telling himself again and again that it was your first time. Be gentle. Be gentle. But fuck when you begged him to fill you up with his cock,it was like his inner beast was unleashed. You were sore for days after that night.

"O-oh yoongi..!" You moaned loudly when he hit your g spot, and if only you knew what was going in his mind, you could cum undone. "Fuck, doll you're taking me so well. Just like my good girl" you mewled at the praise, arching your back causing your soft breast to press against his firm chest. You whimpered when your sensitive nipples brushed against his own, causing him to growl softly as he pounded inside you ruthlessly. One hand pushing you down against the counter causing you to shiver as your bare back met the cold surface. "My fucking slut" he gritted, holding your legs up against your chest, giving him a deeper angle to fuck you. The squelching of your wetness every time he thrusted in increasing as his cock came out of you completely wet. His eyes were staring at his cock disappearing in your pussy,his eyes darkening at the sight of a bulge appearing on your lower stomach every time he thrusted in.

"Whose slut are you hmm?" He rasped, his eyes trained on your breast which were bouncing with every thrust "y-yours! Yoongi yours!" You cried out causing him to groan "remember I'm the one, the only one who can see this pussy. I'm the one who fucked this pretty pussy first" his face was dark with possessiveness, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass causing your cheeks to burn red as you whined "y-yoongi m' so close! W-wanna cum-" you whimpered as he threw one of your leg over his shoulder, his finger rubbing circles on your clit causing you to shiver as you gasped.

He leaned his forehead against your sweaty chest, rasping "cum for me love" your mouth hanged open in a silent scream, with tears of pleasure running down your face as your nails scratched his back with your back arching. Your high edged him closer to his own and you could only hear as husky moan of your name against your ear as he came hard. Splurting out ropes and ropes of hot cum inside your quivering pussy.

He groaned lowly, letting your shaky leg fall from his shoulder as he buried his face in your chest breathing heavily. "Fuck babygirl, you make me want to do wicked things to you" you giggled breathlessly whispering "do it" he chuckled darkly, mumbling "you won't be able to walk after that, babygirl " you flushed under his intense gaze, hiding your face in his chest and he lifted you in his arms with a grunt. "Gonna fuck you again in the shower" you gasped hitting his shoulder "what? You told me i can do whatever i want" he snickered shutting the bathroom door shut with his leg.

Safe to say you are gonna need to apologize to the neighbors.

Taglist open ♡

@bunnyrhe @rosquilleta @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @creatorspalace @yoonaasa @iheartsvt @xmochiloverx @kyojuro-ska @meow-min @kissme-ornot @wobblewobble822 @kookieaddicted96

#bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader fluff #min yoongi x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi scenario #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader one shot #yoongi x reader angst #husband yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: Past Relationship Trauma

Hyung!Line

Summary: your past relationship with your ex messed you up and you still deal with the trauma, but your boyfriend now reassures you and proves to you that you are safe and loved.

Warnings: past trauma, mentions of anxiety and depression, self-harm, past emotional abuse and mental abuse mentioned, insecurities, angst, fluff, hyung!line being the sweetest boyfriends, self-doubt. MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: SELFHARM

W.C.: 2.4k

Notes: heeeey, I’m back! This is an emotional rollercoaster because this is some of the shit, I went through with the boy I told you guys about. At the time I did not realize what was going on, but now that I do, I needed to write about it but with fluff and daydreams about the boys. I have a lot of things to work on because of him, but this gave me some healing and hope that my future S/O can understand where I am coming from on how I feel and that I’m going to be healing. I am healing, but the thought of being vulnerable again is scary, because you know, trusting someone with your heart is scary. But I want to let everyone know that it is okay to heal, it is okay to trip in the process in healing. So, I hope you enjoy this, and it might be hard to read, but take time. I am working on the Maknaes!line, and it should be up soon!

Kim Seokjin:

He started noticing that you have become off a few weeks ago. He did not know what was going on because from his knowledge everything was fine, and you guys were happy. Doing everything that he can, such as having the house clean before you got home from a long day at work, making sure your hoodie, or his because you have claimed it as yours, that you wear at night for bed was warm because he always puts it in the dryer before you go to bed.

It is scaring him because he loves you and does not want to lose you at all because you are his ray of sunshine. Trying to figure it out himself, he realized that you are putting a wall up that he thought he knocked down. He knows that you were mistreated in your last relationship, and it makes you scared that it would happen again. But after a year of proving to you that will not happen, he thought he conquered your demons and got rid of them, but maybe he missed those.

Finally, he approached you about it as he lays in bed with you, getting ready to get to bed.

“Baby? What’s going on?” He asked, grabbing your hands, holding tightly onto them.

Not realizing that those four words made you break down into tears. Freaking out, he pulled you into arms and held onto you tightly, caressing your hair and whispering encouraging words to you, trying to calm you down.

“I’m so scared that somethings going to go bad with us. We’re so happy and healthy that I can’t believe that this is what happens in healthy relationships. Something is not right. This isn’t right. When are you going to get irritated with me and dump me? This must be wrong because this isn’t right.” You choked out, holding tightly onto him.

That is what it was. You fear happiness, and you are not used to it. Seokjin felt like his heart broke because it hurts him to see someone who gives their all to someone and then it gets destroyed over and over. So having someone and something who doesn’t do that is so odd because you are used to that pattern and when it changes, it’s terrifying.

“I know baby. I know. You’ve been hurt so many times that being used to that kind of treatment is familiar and when you get out of that and find healthy… it’s a foreign feeling that you start preparing yourself for downfall. It’s okay to be scared, but please don’t push me away. I want to be here for you and help you. I know it’s hard, and I’ll go at your pace, but please don’t shut me out. I love you so fucking much. How about this. How about we every day sit down for however long and talk about things that are our minds. I know in that pretty head of yours can be your own worst enemy and you get stuck in it. Let me help you get unstuck, okay?”

Looking up at him with teary eyes, you nod your head in agreement. Leaning down, Seokjin presses a kiss on your lips that always makes his heart flutter. He felt you relax in his arms and smile into it.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. Mr. WorldWide needs his Mrs. WorldWide, and he just so happens to have found her when they both needed each other.”

Min Yoongi:

Sometimes Min Yoongi wishes that he could read your mind like Edward Cullen in Twilight because that way he could get your overthinking to stop. He knows what hell you went through with your ex-boyfriend, and he wishes he could beat his ass for what he did to you.

But he does his best to be patient with you because he knows it’s trauma that you carry with you, and something you are working on and that is your constant overthinking.

Now, he doesn’t blame you and can understand and see clearly why you overthink because your ex-boyfriend was a manipulative, narcissistic dick. He fucked with your mind so badly that it took you almost a year to trust your mind and your own thoughts.

Right now, though, he could tell that you wanted to tell him something but kept back tracking, and this is something that he can’t help but to get irritated with. To be clear, it’s not him irritated with you, but irritated at the fact some boy fucked with your head so badly that you’re scared to even explain how you feel on a situation.

“Y-Yoongi, can I talk to you?” You stuttered, confidence nowhere in sight.

“Of course, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, giving you a gentle, loving smile, knowing that approaching him on how you feel so hard because of your past.

Taking a deep breath, you began to fidget with your fingers, and he could tell your anxiety is creeping you onto you. “I know you’ve been busy lately and that it’s been stressful, but I’m just worried that I did something wrong because you have been kind of short with me and not as t

talkative. And I’m sorry if I did something, and I seem clingy, but like I just needed to ask— “

You were cut off by his finger on your lips, shutting you up in a gentle manner.

“No baby, you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I should’ve approached you earlier on this, and I was about to before you came in. I didn’t mean to sound irritated and distant when we messaged each other. I was very caught up in my writing and yesterday the Maknae line was getting on my nerves, so I kind of took my irritation out on you when that was not my intention.”

“So, I didn’t do anything wrong?” Needing to hear the confirmation just one more time from him.

“No, my love, you did nothing wrong, I promise you. I’ll make sure next time to watch out on how I approach you if I’m irritated, I promise.”

Smiling at him with a small smile, he knew that you were still unsure and nervous, which he understood. But you’ve both made more progress in the last six months with you believing him because he made a promise that he will fix you and prove to you that he is not like your ex.

Leaning towards you, he grabbed your face with his hands lovingly and brought your lips to his and kissed you with all the love that he has for you in it. He smiled into the kiss once he felt your smile against his lips.

It takes time, and he knows that there’s still more battles for you both to get through, but he knows you both will get through it together.

Jung Hoseok:

The past couple of weeks, your anxiety has been skyrocketing through the roof to where you have anxiety attacks every single day and Hoseok does not understand why. Hoseok is very familiar with anxiety – having experienced with anxiety with himself – but he does not know on how to approach you on this. You are very secretive with your mental health, besides when it comes to anxiety because it is a part of you, and he knows that you hate that it is. He also does know that your past relationship with your ex, he heard from your best friend that he made you feel bad about your mental health and always made degrading comments about it, especially with the medicine that you take.

Coming home from dance practice, Hoseok was confused on why the house was so quiet. Your car was parked in the driveway and your shoes were in the shoe cubby that was by the front door, so obviously you were home, but the house was deathly quiet. Kicking his shoes off, not thinking about putting them in the shoe cubby, he sat his duffle bag down and began his mission on finding you. Checking the kitchen and living room and not finding you there, he made his way down the hall towards your guy’s bedroom. Entering it, he saw the light that was coming from the bathroom, and he heard some movement coming from in there. Walking straight into the bathroom unannounced, he found you with a razor in your hand and fresh cuts along with your wrist.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” Hoseok asked, panic in his tone.

Looking up at him in shock, you threw the razor away from you, tears coming to surface in your eyes as you broke down completely.

“I-I’m so sorry, I blacked out and-and I could not resist it,” you sobbed out, panicking to grab toilet paper to stop the bleeding. “I-I’m so sorry, please do not be mad at me,” you begged, trying to take care of the wounds on your wrist.

Not saying anything, Hoseok grabbed the washcloth that was laying on the sink and wetting it. Making his way towards you, he gently grabbed your wrist and began to dab at it with the washcloth, his focus was making sure to clean up the mess and getting the bleeding to stop.

After a few quiet minutes – minus your sobs and shaky breaths – he finally spoke, “what happened?” He asked you, voice filled with worry.

“I-I could not control it; my mind became too loud and my thoughts getting the best of me. I tried, Hope, I tried so hard to ignore it, but it took over.”

“What thoughts, baby?” He asked, needing to know what you were thinking.

“That I was becoming too much and not enough. Everything was going so right, too right, and I guess I just could not handle it. I just thought I would be the one to sabotage it and hurt myself before you hurt me so it would be easier to cope with.” You began to sob harder, not being able to take the thought of losing Hoseok. “I fucked up, I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, no you did not. You tripped and tripping happens with healing, I’m not going anywhere I promise. We will get you through this, okay? We are in this together, okay? I got you; I promise baby.”

“Okay.” You stuttered out, breathing heavy and mind foggy. But you trust him, because he did not make you feel bad about what happened, and he is still here with you.

Kim Namjoon:

It is hard seeing someone who you love so much hate their self so much to where they are so fragile emotionally and mentally. Some days, they can be doing so good and the next day they are back in their rabbit hole, not being able to take a small thing of criticism and thinking that they cannot achieve anything because of constantly, in their mind, messing up.

This is Namjoon’s thoughts on you. He loves you so much, but seeing you so destroyed from a past relationship and trying to heal yourself still breaks his heart. Just because of this, Namjoon is not going to leave you, he is wanting to fix you. Some people think that this can be exhausting and would give up, but Namjoon is not giving up on you. You both have gotten farther in your healing process, but some things can tip you off. And that thing was losing your father because of your beliefs being different than his, and it crushed you because you began to think that your thinking was not right. Getting out of mentally abusive relationship to where you felt wrong for having your own thought process and having to second guess yourself is a toll. Because, when you had your own opinion on something, your ex would criticize you for thinking the way you did and made you feel bad about it became unbearable. You lost yourself and felt so lost in your own mind that you did not know who you were anymore.

So, coming home to you tonight crying on the couch, Namjoon knew what to do. Setting his belongings down in the entrance, he made his way over to you, taking the blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over you. Sensing his presence, you sat up and wrapped the blanket around yourself before lunging yourself into his arms.

“My love, what happened?” He asked gently, running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp – an act that you love and found comfort in.

“I’m so sorry, I know that this is becoming old, and tiring, but at work, a coworker criticized my work, and I defended it! I defended myself, Joonie, but-but they got to me, making me think what I thought and said was stupid and they did that smirk. They did that smirk and it got to me, when it shouldn’t have. We’ve been working on this, but I could not help it. But it hurt. It made me feel pathetic and stupid. I’m so stupid.”

“Baby, I am so proud of you for standing up for yourself, and that is such huge progress that you have made. I am so, so proud of you, baby. And I know that they got to you, but you have to realize that - wait was it Michael who said that?” He asked, needing to make sure that he knew who it was from your work.

“Yes,” you replied.

Laughing at this confirmation – not at you, but at the fact that this dick who is below you in success at your company is criticizing you since he has not had a promotion in two years while you have in the past year. “Of course, it was him. My love, please do not work yourself up on someone who is less than you. And I know this is hard, but we can get this. Like you said, you defended yourself! Do you know how long you and I have been working on this? For a year and you finally did it! You did it baby, and now our next mission is to work on not caring about what Michael thinks, and not letting this dick make you feel bad about how you feel and think. We got this. Do we have a deal?”

Smiling up at him, you nodded, “but it is going to be hard. He got to me, and this is going to be difficult.”

“And it was difficult for you three months ago to defend yourself, but you finally did it. And I know for a fact that we will get to where you will be able to not care about what people think of you, and how you think and feel. We got this baby.”

Smiling, feeling much better, “we got this.”

#bts reaction #bts angst reaction #bts fluff reaction #bts mafia!au #bts Kim namjoon #kim seokjin scenario #min yoongi scenario #jung hoseok scenario #kim namjoon scenario #bts scenario #bts smut #Kim Seokjin x reader #Kim Namjoon x reader #min Yoongi x reader #Jung Hoseok x reader #bts x reader #bts yandere #jeon jungkook #bts hyung line reaction #park jimin #Kim taehyung

[dirtybtssnaps]

Pros and cons of bts members please

Genre: Lovely smut

Pairing: Dominant! Bangtan Sonyondan and Submissive Female Reader

Name: Kim Namjoon (Rm)

Pro: Namjoon’s such a cute, smart but slightly ditzy boyfriend to have. Both of you are usually just home alone or in a hotel room together, he’s usually just on the computer while you’re lying down on your phone. Occasionally both of you will go out on dates or just a walk together, this is when his ditziness comes out the most, with him trying to show you something new and destroying something on accident. You know he means well and just gets too excited to show you sometimes he thought was cool.

Con: Just like anything else when he touches something while excited he forgets his strength. Namjoon ripped your clothes off, effortlessly threw you on the bed, pinned you on the bed, and fucked you unmercifully for an hour. Afterward, both of you cuddle together for a while, until he has to get back up and work on his computer again.

Name: Kim Seokjin (Jin)

Pro: After years of dating and traveling the world seokjin’s ready to settle down with his love, during the first time you both met he asked you out on a date. He was a complete gentleman during the whole date even picking you up and dropping you back off. After dating for a while he asks you to be his girlfriend, and after that you both become attached. Whenever someone sees Seokjin you’re usually right by him, you’re friends get slightly jealous of you thinking you’re lucky to have him.

Con: He offhandedly asked you if you were into Bdsm after you said yes and since it was introduced to your relationship it’s there forever. You’re always at his beckoning call no matter what, he’s stern but also very nice and a cutie sometimes. As time goes on the kinks and rules slowly get rougher, and the love you receive from him gets more intense with it. After each session, he cuddles with you and teases you about how you acted and the noises you made during it.

Name: Min Yoongi (Suga)

Pro: You’re treated like a big spoiled fluffy house cat, everything you and anything you could want was easily at your fingertips. He hates leaving you all alone during tours and dislikes seeing his kitty getting grumpy before his flights he’d take you if he could, so you get extra treats, cuddles, and cute little cat toys. After pestering him a bunch of times about needing somewhere to sit in his studio, he got you a human-sized cat bed in the corner of his studio.

Con: Besides your being “Yoongi’s cat.” In everybody’s phone, and if you’re in your cat bed while anyone walks in they’ll greet you like your a cat. Yoongi’s kinda into free use, if he’s in the mood and you are too why wait and just do it somewhere nobody else is? That’s why he has passwords on his recording room doors, and he just loves seeing your cute little eyes looking back up at him while giving him head.

Name: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope)

Pro: Hobi Oppa is such a ray of sunshine to your life honestly, you both hang out and go out on cute little dates all the time. He always makes sure to compliment everything you wear, your hair, and even your makeup. He’s also kinda overprotective of you, and also not against being away from each other for too long. Somehow both of you even started sleeping together naked even without having sex, he often hugs you, cuddles with you tightly during it, and gives you deep kisses all over.

Con: Hoseok is such a sweetheart it’s honestly hard to find any faults in him…. Except for one…it’s just that he’s a masochist. He’s obviously the dominant one in your relationship, but it’s kinda embarrassing for him but you love him so you don’t mind. He regularly fucks you hard until you can barely control yourself, your legs and arms going everywhere until they wrap around him. Your nails start digging into his back making him moan and go rougher and deeper inside you.

Name: Park Jimin

Pro: The honeymoon phase is forever, Jimin always thinks it’s important to make sure you’re secure, happy, and satisfied in your relationship together. Fights are usually tame between both of you just being simple disagreements, he loves surprising you with cute things he finds while away/on tour.

Con: From Humble to greedy, From Divine to Sinful it only takes one step to be off the path. As trips and work shifts seem to get longer his infatuation gets deeper for you, and when he sees you he just wants to drink every drop and still thirst for more. One time they even extended a tour for bts, and he couldn’t take it anymore the phone and video sex weren’t enough anymore so he flew you out.

Name: Kim Taehyung (V)

Pro: Taehyung is just a nice shy guy, he couldn’t even make the first move, he just slipped you a cute note with his name and phone number. After a bit of texting you both got comfortable texting and talking to each other on the phone and he invites you over for dinner at his place. You’re hesitant at first but you go and both enjoy yourself a lot, both of you end up spending a lot of time together making people think you're both moving too fast. Taehyung defends both of your relationships, he honestly loves you and sees both of you being together for a long time.

Con: “It’s not true love if she’s not satisfied I’m bed.”, these are words Taehyung has taken to heart and keeps true to himself. So whenever both of you have sex he goes for as long and hard as he can. Taehyung may be rough in bed, but he’s always gentle with you during it fixing your hair, checking up on you, calling you sweet names he even gave you water during the middle of the sex when your throat sounded dry.

Name: Jeon Jungkook

Pro: Jungkook loves your personality, the way you talk, your interests just everything about you. But he really loves your body, whenever you could be wearing regular clothes, a nice dress, an oversized shirt, a nightgown, lingerie, or just fresh out of the shower he loves it. You’re his favorite person to take pictures of, even setting up photo shoots at places to put up in his studio.

Con: He wants to post them so badly, not in a malicious way but in a beautiful way. In old paintings there are women simply in gardens and rivers naked, it’ll be actually tasteful nudity and he knows people would come from around the world to see you like that. Even with photos, your skin looks so soft, and everything always seemed like it was made to make the best background for you.

#answered #bts smut #bangtan smut #bangtan sonyeondan smut #kpop smut #kpop idol smut #kim namjoon smut #kim seokjin smut #min yoongi smut #jung hoseok smut #park jimin smut #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #kim namjoon scenarios #kim seokjin scenario #min yoongi scenario #jung hoseok scenarios #park jimin scenario #kim taehyung scenario #jeon jungkook scenario

[aamalaaa]

sunrises & liquor (m) | myg

home

pairing: yoongi x reader

series: sunrises & liquor

rating: m(18+); cursing, alcohol consumption, smut, explicit content

genre: bar workers au, barman yoongi au, (kinda) forbidden relationship, angst, fluff, smut, romance

summary: after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.

warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption (duh), smut, dirty talk, biting, slapping, oral sex(m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks), shower sex, body worshipping(sort of), vomit inducing fluff, there’s blood (barely)

a/n: well hello, fancy seeing you here! I’m sorry I didn’t update for a while, I’ve been very sick. but now I’m back and better soooo welcome to another chapter of s&l! we’re getting into the teeth rotting fluff and they somewhat act like adults, amazing! anyway, thanks for reading as always, I appreciate you guys SO so much&lt;3

// thanks to my dear friend who beta’d for me, @lilredtot couldn’t have done it without you I love you<3

hapter word count: 7.1 k

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“Where is it?” 

You scan the living room in search of the now famous ‘Cat’ but it’s no use, you can’t locate the furry companion anywhere.

“Stop pouting, it's probably hiding in my room.”

“I’m not pouting,” You stick your tongue out.

Yoongi rolls his eyes as a lopsided smile works its way upon his cheeks. 

“Tell that to your face.”

He makes his way down the main corridor as you shrug your winter garment off and hang it on the coat hanger. You glance in the rectangular mirror perched on the wall to your left.

And holy shit you look like a mess. 

Strands of hair sticking in every imaginable direction, eyeliner smudged on your cheeks, eyes bloodshot red and dark circles underneath your eyes. Why hadn’t Yoongi told you how fucking ridiculous you look?

You drag the flat side of your index fingers on your cheeks and under your eyes to try and get rid of the onyx smudges, only serving to make it worse.

It’s really no use. 

You sigh and card a hand through your hair, attempting to the best of your abilities to tame your wild mane. That’s when you notice Yoongi coming back through the hallway, a black ball of fluff snuggled in his arms.

You squeal in delight. “Oh my fucking god.”

Yoongi winces at the pitch of your voice.

“You’re gonna scare the poor cat.” 

“Hey you, aren’t you the most beautiful creature on earth,” You coo as you slowly bring your hand a few inches away from the black cat’s nose.

The animal quietly sniffs the air, its whiskers shaking in a very endearing way, before inching closer towards your hand, carefully observing it and tentatively licking your middle finger with its tiny pink tongue.

Yoongi smiles fondly at the scene playing right before his eyes and affectionately caresses the cat’s head before whispering, as if not to disturb the animal, 

Yoongi smiles fondly at the scene playing right before his eyes and affectionately caresses the cat’s head before whispering, as if not to disturb the animal, 

“I think it likes you.”

You point to your chest with your free hand, the other one still being peppered with tiny licks.

You point to your chest with your free hand, the other one still being peppered with tiny licks.

“Me?”

“No, I’m talking to the other person in the room.”

You glare at him and go for a soft pet of the animal’s fluffy head. The purr that resonates through the air at the gesture warms every fiber of your being.

“I like it too,” You quietly squeal, the sound resembling a warmed up tea kettle.

“If i didn’t know better I’d think you like my cat more than you like me,” Yoongi chuckles.

And his voice is so hoarse and gravely you feel warmth flooding through you and settling at the base of your stomach as the sound of it reaches your ears.

You rake your throat awkwardly and lay a gentle kiss on the cat’s head. It closes its eyes leisurely before looking at you again with its wide golden orbs.

“Maybe I do,” You tease.

“You disrespect me in my house, under my roof, in front of my cat.”

“Cry baby,” You cackle loudly, clutching at your stomach. 

The cat jumps and leaps out of its owner’s arms at the sudden loudness of your laughter. 

“Oh no no no no, I’m so sorry baby.”

It’s no use, the cat rushes through the corridor and into a dark room.

Yoongi chuckles darkly. “Seems like you’re stuck with your second choice now.”

You yelp as he grabs your waist and brings you forward, a few inches from his chest, where you lay the palm of your hands. “Yeah well, you can’t always get what you want.” 

You trace the outline of firm pecs through soft fabric, relishing in the light shiver it earns you from the object of your affection. 

“How sad,” He lowly rumbles, mouth now a few inches from yours.

You audibly gulp. “A tragedy.” 

Yoongi hums before encasing your mouth with his luscious lips and nipping at your bottom flesh. A small whimper makes its way past your throat and you go lax in his hold, letting him take control of the situation.

It’s not like earlier, when you were both lost in the throes of carnal passion. It’s sloppy, slow and Yoongi takes his sweet time savoring each and every sound his ministrations brings out of you, caressing you gently as he does so. 

You easily get lost in his lips, his smell, his taste, the feel of his fingertips and the small contented hums he emits from time to time.

“We should probably go to sleep,” He declares in between gentle presses of his lips.

“There’s a lot of things we should do.” You breathe out against his mouth.

Yoongi chuckles lightly before pecking your cheek, slowly making his way down your jawline.

“Believe me there’s a lot of things I want to do with you love, but we both work in a few hours.”

You dramatically sigh and throw your head back a bit to grant him better access to your throat. He eagerly starts tracing his way there with soft brushes of hot lips, leaving a fiery trail in his wake.

You grip the front of his shirt, “You say one thing but then your body says another.”

You shiver as you feel the wet pad of his tongue licking at your throat before his teeth scrape the sensitive skin there, setting you ablaze.

You almost think you’ve won the battle, almost.

But just when you think you did, Yoongi parts from your throat and leaves a chaste peck upon your lips, spurring a frustrated whine out of you. 

“Just a little taste to keep you on your toes 'till next time,” He murmurs.

You pout. “No fair.”

Yoongi chuckles hoarsely. “What’s not fair is you liking my cat more than me.”

You cross your arms over your chest and pout deeply at him.

“But have you seen your cat?” 

He quirks a brow at you before taking your hand and tugging you towards what you assume to be his bedroom. He flicks the light switch on and well, it’s not what you expected.

In all fairness you didn’t know what to expect, Yoongi being the kind of person to keep his cards pretty close to his chest.

The room is tiny, but very clean and organized. The queen bed lays in the middle of the room and takes most of the space. Almost everything is in different shades of white and grey, except for the dresser, nightstands and bed frame, which are a light oak color. 

It’s all very calming and peaceful, and yeah, you should’ve expected it considering Yoongi is one of the most comforting human being you’ve ever known. 

You notice a little ball of fluff peeking out from under the bed.

“Don’t be afraid of me baby,” You soothe, getting on all fours and scooting closer to the animal.

It sniffs the air and smacks its head against the palm of your hand.

“That’s a good kitty,” You caress the cat gently, being careful not to scare it.

Yoongi rummages through his dresser for a few seconds before throwing a few pieces of clothing on the made up bed.

“I don’t really know what you usually wear to bed but yeah,” He glances at you, an amused smile working its way upon his face.

You awkwardly get up and pat your knees. Yoongi rubs the back of his neck and hands you an oversized black t-shirt and dark charcoal coloured sweatpants.

You smile coyly. “That’s perfect, thanks.”

You stand still for a few seconds, feeling a bit shy all of a sudden. And you shouldn’t because, well, you just had sex on a bar counter. But you still do.

“Could you..”

Yoongi shakes his head and smirks at you. 

“Cute.”

Your cheeks heat up at an alarming rate and you shoo him out the door, earning you a loud chuckle as Yoongi closes the door behind him.. 

You swiftly change out of your current attire, throwing the dirty clothes in a pile on the dresser, then pull Yoongi’s garments on. The sweatpants are a bit too loose and the t-shirt is definitely oversized, but it’s very comfortable all around. You have no complaints. 

Plus, the clothes smell of delicious bergamot and pine wood, just like their owner. And you definitely have no complaints about that. 

Yoongi gently knocks on the door before asking,

“Can I come in?” 

You pat the t-shirt down. “Yeah..” 

He opens the door and smiles at you.

“Damn, you look hot with my clothes on.”

You blush furiously and hide your face behind your hand. “Shut up.”

He laughs and drops a toothbrush on the dresser. “I had an unopened pack of these, you can have it.”

“You better, you did invite me here after all.”

“Ungrateful brat,” Yoongi mumbles, though there’s a hint of a smile on his heart shaped lips. 

You grab the toothbrush and head out the door, but not before leaving a short kiss on the man’s cheek. 

“Thanks Yoongi.”

You skip down the hallway and to what you assume to be the bathroom. There’s only three doors after all, one of which you just came out of, it doesn’t leave a lot of room for error. 

As soon as you step in, you notice toothpaste on the sink, along with skin care products. 

“Yoongi, can I use your face wash?” 

You hear a positive answer and so you quickly wash your face, scrubbing thoroughly to get rid of the now faded makeup unflatteringly adorning your face. Then, you brush your teeth and get ready for bed. 

Once you’re done and content you make your way to the bedroom once again and freeze once you step into the room. 

Yoongi’s busy pulling his sweatpants on, half naked. And god you can’t believe you had sex with him because holy shit he’s hot. Planes of smooth skin, a flat stomach with slightly defined abs, broad and strong shoulders that could probably carry you without too much strain. Why is it so fucking hot in here?

It’s not like you haven’t seen it before, but it was in the dark. Now there’s strong lighting, exposing each and every detail to your greedy gaze. And you’d be a fool not to drink it all in eagerly. 

He pulls a black shirt on before turning around, noticing you. He shoots a questioning look your way,

“What?”

You glare at him. “You can’t tell me you don’t know how fucking ridiculously hot you are.”

He shrugs and you notice a slightly pink shade coloring his otherwise pale cheeks. Oh. 

He clears his throat. “You got any side you prefer?” He motions at the bed. “I can also sleep on the couch if you prefer-“

“The side closest to the door.” 

He nods, “I’ll go grab something, make yourself at home love.” He heads out once again and you slowly climb into bed, shivering as you slide under the covers. You settle against the soft pillow and sigh contentedly. 

No less than a minute later Yoongi comes back holding two glasses of clear liquid which he drops on both nightstands. 

“What’s that?” You quietly ask.

“Water.” He flips the light switch off, basking the room in darkness. 

You feel the mattress dip under his weight as he gets into bed and under the covers. You turn to face him, tentatively searching for his arm with your hand. 

“Ow,” He hisses as you hit what you think is his nose.

You gasp and burst into a fit of giggles. “I’m so sorry!” 

Yoongi slides a hand onto your waist and draws you closer, groaning in the process. 

“Like hell you are.” 

Your giggles get louder. “I swear I am, I was looking for your arm.” 

“Nice aim,” He chuckles, bringing a hand up to your hair and stroking it. 

You press closer to his chest, and relax in his hold. 

“Thanks for inviting me.” You whisper against his rhythmic heartbeat.

“Thanks for accepting.” 

He lays a kiss on the top of your head and you almost purr. 

“Did you put an alarm on?” You ask, just now remembering that you both need to get up in a few hours.

“I did. Now sleep, love.”

You wish you could take in more of this moment, it’s perfect, in every way you could think of. But you’re so sleepy, and the hand softly stroking your hair lulls you to sleep faster than you’d think possible.

“Okay,” You barely slur out. 

That night you fall into Morpheus’s arms, feeling completely safe and content.

Everything is warm and fuzzy and you feel so goddamn good you don’t ever want to move. But there’s this wet feeling on your cheek that annoys you to no end, and this quiet rustling noise that keeps perturbing you. 

It’s when you feel a soft push on your forehead that your eyes snap open and you realize you’re not at home in bed. You realize because there’s golden eyes, a few inches from your face, staring right at you with curiosity.

You groan and pet the furry companion, 

“Good morning Cat..” 

The cat meows at you and bumps his head against your forehead, making you effectively swoon as you affectionately caress the fluffy creature.

You lift your head slowly, taking in your surroundings. It’s definitely morning, the soft light coming in through the window cuing you in.

You rub your face and realize, to your horror, that you have drool drying on the right corner of your mouth, which prompts you to peek at the pillow on which you were sleeping and oh my god, you drooled on it.

So much for making a good impression after sleeping at Yoongi’s place for the first time.

Speaking of Yoongi, where the fuck is he? Not in bed that’s for sure.

You toss the covers off of your body and get up from the mattress, almost losing balance in the process. 

God, Yoongi may have fucked you a bit too good last night. It’s been a while since you’ve felt this sore after spending the night with someone.

Not that you mind.

You take your time making your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, analyzing the room to the best of your sleepy abilities, since you hadn’t really paid attention last night. 

The kitchen and living room are pretty much the same as the bedroom, clean lines and minimal clutter. It’s fascinating really, how someone’s living space can tell so much about them. 

There’s also a wide window with a beautiful direct view of the neighborhood’s park.

But the most beautiful view of all is Yoongi, with his back turned to you cooking god knows what and humming quietly as he does so, grey sweatpants hanging off his dainty hips, the hem of his shirt stuck a little higher up, giving you just a glimpse of soft pale skin.

You don’t even notice you’re smiling when you make your way towards him and bump your little toe on the corner of the kitchen island.

“Ow fucking hell,” You yelp and grab the counter forcefully as a myriad of curses slip past your lips.

Yoongi swivels around quickly at the commotion and abandons his cooking to grab your waist tenderly, confusion marring his features. 

“You ok?” 

You plaintively hum and feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, momentarily avoiding his gaze and settling for your feet instead.

“I hurt my toe,” You pout, finally meeting his eyes.

His eyebrows knit in concern.

“Want me to look at that for you?” He softly asks as he rubs your waist soothingly.

And god, if his tired hoarse voice made you tingly all over last night, it’s nothing compared to his raspy morning voice. You could bathe in it all day long.

“No, no I'll be ok.. ``Watcha cookin there?” You swiftly change the subject as an attempt to not let his hand on your waist have too much of an effect on you.

He grins widely, showing off smooth pink gums as he does. And it’s fucking adorable. You wonder how someone can be so attractive and cute at the same time, it shouldn’t be legal. 

“I’m just making pancakes, sit down it’s almost ready,” He turns his back on you again to prepare your breakfast and you stare at him completely dumbfounded. No one ever did that for you, ever.

“O-ok..” You take a seat at the counter and play with your fingers to try and distract you from your thoughts. It’s nerve wracking how quickly this man could make you fall head over heels for him. 

You need to slow down and tame the butterflies flying around in your stomach.

Yoongi shoots you an amused look before sliding a hot pancake into a white plate and handing it to you. 

“Utensils are in this drawer, there’s condiments and fruits in the fridge.”

And you feel a bit awkward rummaging through his fridge, but he implicitly said you could so you gather your courage and get maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries out of the fridge and prepare your meal.

Yoongi soon joins you at the counter and you both eat in silence, stealing shy glances at each other from time to time, a bashful smile plastered upon your face no matter how hard you try to will it away.

You could get used to this, you think. And that scares you shitless because anything worth getting used to can also hurt the most if all hell breaks loose.

You don’t even notice you stopped eating until a gentle gruff voice startles you,

“What are you thinking about?” 

You shake your head and smile. “About how we have to go to work later.”

Yoongi lets out a long and deep sigh. “We still have like two hours or something left before we have to go.” He gets up and picks up both of your plates, promptly dropping them next to the sink. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

You nod coyly, too shy to ask if you could also take one. 

“I’ll leave the door open if you wanna join me.” 

You swiftly lift your head up, eyes widening as you take in his cocky expression. He laughs wholeheartedly at your reaction.

“Don’t feel obliged to love. But I’d like it if you joined me.” He grins and makes his way to the bathroom as you stay seated and follow his movements, mouth slightly agape and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

Oh.

You stay there for so long, unsure what to do, that you hear the shower start running. It was all fine in the heat of the moment, when you were both basked in darkness and hungry for each other.

Now, you’re still very much hungry for him, but you’re also very shy. It all feels different, more intimate. And that also scares you.

But what are you if not willing to step out of your comfort zone from time to time? Taehyung always says you need to get out of your head, this is the perfect opportunity. Because Yoongi will be kind about it, you’re sure of that.

So you shakily get up from your seat and head towards the bathroom, legs quivering in anticipation and nervousness. And it’s embarrassing, really, how fast you get aroused just thinking about Yoongi naked in the shower, pressing on you with his strong body.

You quietly step into the bathroom, the sound of running water doing absolutely nothing to calm your nerves, and slowly tug your clothes off, one by one, until you’re stripped bare and shivering. You open the fogged up glass door and step inside almost moaning at the sight awaiting you. 

Yoongi, eyes closed under the shower head, letting the stream of hot water run through his hair and down his back, perfect ass on display. 

You almost lose it on the spot.

You can see the corner of Yoongi’s mouth lift up into a slight smirk as you step closer and engulf him in a hug, pressing your breast against his slick back and closing your eyes to take in the moment.

You stay like that for a few seconds, relishing in the warmth and letting the fog fill your lungs before Yoongi swirls around and rests his hands on your hips, the skin to skin contact making you slightly dizzy.

You slowly blink and meet his soft gaze, almost melting along with the water and sinking down the drain.

Yoongi draws you closer, flush against his chest and you look up straight into his eyes, blinking away the water sliding down your eyelashes in quick motions. 

You don’t notice you’re shaking until Yoongi points it out,

“You’re trembling, are you cold?” He steps back to let you stand directly under the warm flow of water. You close your eyes and take a shaky breath. 

“No I’m-“ You stop and bite your lip. “I’m.. scared”

Yoongi freezes and moves the both of you away from the shower head, swiping at your eyes in the process. 

“Of me?” 

You frown and shake your head. “No, no, god no. Of this, of us, it’s.. intimate.” 

Yoongi’s features soften at your words and he cradles the side of your face, caressing your cheek softly. 

“It is,” He smiles. “We’re not doing anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise.”

You nod weakly and stare at him, getting lost in his deep obsidian pools as time stands still for a few seconds. You inch closer, lips just a few inches from his own before halting in your movement,

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

And just like that, you bring him in for a searing kiss which Yoongi reciprocates ardently while tightening his hold on your frame. He leads you back under the water and cages you between his arms against the glass window. You jolt at the contact of cold glass on skin, a moan threatening to spill from your lips.

Pleasure courses through your whole body as Yoongi laps greedily at your mouth with expert swipes of his tongue and you don’t even try to fight for dominance, you happily let him take and take.

Because Yoongi almost never takes, he gives, never asking for anything in return. And so when he does take, you let him. Because it fills you up to the brim with gratefulness and satisfaction, because he almost never does, too content with giving. 

You want to give back.

You trail your fingers down his chest in featherlight touches, feeling him shiver and momentarily stutter in his movements as you close your hand around the base of his fastly hardening cock, making you smile through the kiss.

You give a few tentative strokes before fastening your pace, swirling your wrist as you pump his hard length with your tiny hand, which seems that much more petite around his thick girth. 

He groans against your lips before hitting the glass wall with his fist, the gesture making your tight walls clench around nothing.

“You’re making me go crazy love,” He rasps out, breaking the kiss. 

You innocently look into his eyes, pumping his cock faster, lingering on the red tip for a few seconds before swirling your hand down again.

He bores into your eyes with such a lustful look you weakly clench again. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“So many things,” You gently whisper against his plump lips. “Just- Just let me do this for you.” 

“Fucking hell, do what you want, I’m all yours babe.”  He curses out, bringing a hand over his mouth.

And so you slowly sink down onto your knees, closing your eyes momentarily as water cascades down your face in soothing waves and lay your tongue flat against the base of his cock, licking upwards in one smooth, tantalizing motion before taking the tip into your mouth and sinking down on his twitching length, prompting another curse out of him.

You slowly work him up, letting your throat adjust to his size, taking more and more inches as you bob your head up and down. Yoongi grips your hair gently, not tugging or pressing, it’s almost like a grounding motion you think. And it’s soothing, it encourages you to take more and more of him, warmth and pride blooming in your chest as you hear him quietly groaning.

It’s not as difficult now, and your throat is getting used to the intrusion. So you sink down and take as much of him as you can, gagging when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You stay there for a few seconds before trying to take a little more, tearing a straight up unholy sound from Yoongi’s throat as his grip on your hair tightens. 

You moan around him and immediately yelp in surprise as Yoongi grips your arm and tugs you upwards, letting your hair go as he does so, only to forcefully clutch your cheek.

“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum before I even get to fuck you?”

You mewl at his words, shivers erupting all over your skin like pinpricks,

“I just wanted to please you, I didn’t-“ 

You’re cut off by an assertive press of pillowy lips against your own and you relax in the blond’s man hold. 

“You did Angel.. God that mouth of yours is amazing.” He presses his forehead against your own. “But nothing would please me more than making you feel good. Do you want that?” 

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head as his words register. If you’re being honest, it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Yoongi lightly taps your cheek at the lack of response. “Do you want that Angel? Can I fuck you dumb?” He whispers, his words a sharp contrast against the loving tone of his voice.

“I really do Yoongi, please,” You whimper brokenly, already fucked out even though the man hasn’t even touch you yet.

He dives down to your throat, sucking and nibbling lightly at the supple flesh as his hands travel up and down your body, lingering on your breasts and hardened nub, teasing and flicking at them as if he knows exactly what to do to get a reaction out of you, and maybe he does. Your back arches and your breathing gets ragged and uneven, the fog now blurring your mind.

There’s only you and Yoongi, nothing else.

Yoongi parts from your throat and peers deep into your eyes,

“Turn around love.” 

You gulp and obey immediately, a pool of warmth now swimming in your abdomen, and you lay the palm of your hands flat against the glass, arching your back as you do so. 

Yoongi forcefully grabs both of your ass cheeks, kneading at the warm flesh as he lays a wet smack against your bum, shooting a jolt of electricity up your spine. 

“You’re fucking stunning love,” He all but growls against the shell of your ear, making you mewl at the praise.

And just like that he aligns himself with your entrance, teasingly flicking and tapping the tip of his cock onto it as you grind against him, desperate for friction of any kind.

And he happily obliges, slowly sinking into you and stretching you out as you cry out his name, the familiar burn making your heart race at an alarming rate.

“Fuck,” He growls through gritted teeth as he eventually bottoms out, pelvis flush against your plump ass. “Fuck Angel, you take me so fucking well.” 

You whimper loudly as he picks up a slow and steady pace, dragging the tip of his cock along your swollen insides. You can’t help the unbridled moans that escape your mouth or the shaking in your legs.

The constant and rhythmic sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin only fuels the fire burning through your veins and the growing knot inside your stomach. 

“I’m not gonna last long babe,” Yoongi shakily declares as he starts ramming into you at full speed, your cheek now squished against the glass and drool making its way past your wide opened mouth. He grabs your hair and tugs your head down onto his shoulder, kissing and nipping at your jawline now that the position permits it.

You arch your back even more, deepening the angle at which his throbbing cock plunders through your sensitive walls, and you bite your lip fiercely, drawing blood as the new angle sends you into pure ecstasy, your high drawing closer and closer, like a tidal wave. 

Yoongi’s movements become stuttered and you know he’s very close. So you swivel your hips and throw your ass down onto his cock to coax his orgasm out. 

“Angel,” He moans out before pulling out of you and coming all over your naked ass in thick ropes of hot, white essence. 

You shudder and lay your forehead against the glass as you try and will your erratic heartbeat to calm down, the stream of water swiftly washing the results of your actions off of your body. 

But you barely have time to breathe before you’re turned around, your hands now pinned above your head and interlaced with Yoongi’s. 

“We’re not done yet.” He smirks before bringing you into a swoon worthy kiss, dragging the tip of his tongue against your mouth in languid motions. He takes his time plundering your mouth, tasting each and every corner of it before dropping down, his hands now gripping both of your shaky thighs. 

You barely have time to register what he’s about to do before a warm tongue swipes at your core, sending your mind into a frenzy and reigniting the hot pit of lava in your abdomen.

“Oh shit..” You cry out while pulling at your hair, rendered unable to control your words or movements.

Yoongi continues his ministrations, licking and swirling his tongue against you, the knot in your stomach growing pleasurably painful.

“Yoongi-“ You hoarsely yell out. “Right there, like this yeah-“ 

He hums in understanding, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit in quick motions, exactly like you asked him to. And the pleasure it brings is almost unbearable.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you in blinding throbs. It’s not all consuming or so intense you can barely stand. It’s more like a long, but ecstatic drag, making you convulse and moan quietly as Yoongi kisses his way up your body, all the way to your mouth. He lazily kisses you, bringing you back to earth as you reciprocate the kiss, brushing the tip of your fingers against his arm in long and deliberate strokes.

Yoongi parts from your mouth and sighs against your lips. “That was..”

“Fucking unbelievable,” You croak out, soon falling into a fit of giggles.

Yoongi quirks a brow at your reaction, mirth swimming in his eyes. “What are you laughing at, uh?”

You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress your giggles. “I don’t know, I’m feeling a ‘lil loopy.”

“That makes two of us,” Yoongi chuckles and twirls around to turn down the heat of the water. And the opportunity is right there in front of your eyes, so tempting that you can’t help but seize it, smacking his perfect ass loud enough for the wet sound to reverberate through the shower.

Yoongi startles, turning around and caging you between his strong arms in a matter of seconds. “No fair.”

“Nu-uh, what’s not fair is you having such a great ass.” You pout petulantly. 

“And you think you don’t?” He drags his hands down the curves of your body, forcefully grabbing your bum to prove his point. “You could sit on my face all day and I’d say thank you.”

You blush profusely and clasp a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, Yoongi!”

Yoongi throws his head back in laughter before leaving a light spank on your bottom,

“Alright let’s get cleaned up, I’m really not up for being late.”

“Okay! As long as I get to wash your hair,” You grin mischievously.

Yoongi groans. “Absolutely not.”

You fidget in the passenger seat as Yoongi parks on the street close to your workplace, your nerves slowly taking over.

You play with your fingers while Yoongi gathers his things and opens the driver’s door. You take a shaky breath and pick your bag up.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi halts in his movements.

You snap your gaze up, meeting concerned pools of onyx. “I- I just..” You trail off, carefully thinking over how you feel before voicing it.

Yoongi closes the door and settles against the seat, waiting in silence for you to find the proper words.

“How should we act in there? Obviously you had something with Sam before, I don’t want her to feel hurt by,” You motion between the both of you. “..this.”

Yoongi observes you for a second before sighing.“Obviously she’s not gonna be excited by it, though she did suspect something already.” He pauses.

“Thing is, as much as I don’t want this to hurt her, it’s also not our responsibility to ensure it doesn’t.” He takes your hand in his. “I’m definitely not gonna rub it in her face, I don’t feel the need to. But I also don’t feel the need to hide what we have. I’m tired of living my own life according to other people’s opinions and feelings.”

He looks down to your linked hands.“Ultimately it comes down to what you want. I’ve just told you how I feel about it, do what feels right for you and I’ll respect that.”

You look at him in shock, not having expected such an elaborate answer. 

“Thanks for telling me about how you feel,” You affectionately smile.

Yoongi leans towards you and leaves a soft kiss on your lips, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he does so.

“Thanks for sharing your concerns with me.” He breathes out.

And that’s a start you think. You both may be a little rough around the edges when it comes to sharing your thoughts and feelings, but that only means there’s place for improvement. 

You want to better yourself.

You both get out of the car and walk hand in hand towards the bar’s entrance, immediately waving at Namjoon as you come closer. 

His eyes widen when he notices your linked hands.“I guess we missed a lot last night.”

You nod bashfully while Yoongi taps the younger man’s shoulder in greetings. 

“Guess you did. Tell me later about you and Kook-ah, yeah?” Yoongi asks,  stepping through the door and tugging you forward.

“Hey I wanna know too!” You half-shout as you make your way up the stairs, your grip on Yoongi’s loosening for a moment before you notice and adjust it, earning you a cocky lift of brow from the blond barman.

He stops and bends down just before you reach the top of the stairs, whispering against the shell of your ear,

“Do what feels right and I'll respect it.”

You nod decisively and strengthen your grip on his hand, deciding then and there that you too, wouldn’t let people’s opinions dictate how you act. 

Yoongi shoots you a warm gummy smile that positively melts your heart before stepping up the stairs and towards the bar area. You follow him, a newfound confidence blooming in your chest.

Jimin and Jungkook are already there, hunched over the bar and chatting animatedly. 

Jimin is the first one to notice you both, his speech faltering when you greet them,

“Working hard I see.”

“What the fuck,” Jimin mutters, a bewildered look in his eyes.

Jungkook frowns and looks up, his eyes widening as soon as he does. “When did that happen?”

You feel heat lodging itself onto your cheeks and send Yoongi a panicked look. The latter nods and squeezes your hand before replying to the young man,

“None of your business, we open in thirty, chop chop.” He says, seemingly unfazed by your friend’s puzzled looks.

“You’re really, really no fun hyung.” Jungkook pouts.

“It’s my middle name.”

You snicker as you both get ready for work, a smile permanently etched upon your features as the reality of the situation kicks in. 

Yoongi’s got you, and he’s not backing down. 

The night goes by so fast you barely have time to blink before it’s closing time. You sit at the bar and get a bunch of receipts out of your pouch as the wireless terminal prints a very long detailed reading of the transactions completed under your number throughout the whole night.

You’re comparing numbers and making sure everything fits when Jimin slides on the seat next to you, doing the same thing you did a few minutes ago.

“What’s the verdict?” He asks.

You scratch your head. “Almost three thousand.”

Jimin whistles, impressed. “Damn, you got wrecked tonight.”

You laugh quietly. “I really fucking did. What’s yours?”

He looks over his reading. “Two and a half. God damn.”

“Jeez, we never stopped did we.” You chuckle hoarsely, you talked so much throughout the night that your voice is merely a shadow of what it used to be.

“Nope. Good job us.” He offers you his palm and you high five it.

You silently sort through your papers for a while before Jimin breaks the silence,

“So.. are you gonna tell me how you and Yoongi went from barely talking and murdering each other with a simple look to coming in together all lovey dovey and shit?”

You giggle lightly. “We talked like adults, that’s how.”

“Damn, who knew talking could solve so many problems. Not me.” He teases.

You roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his. “You were right blablabla, happy?”

“Yeah.” He lays his head on your shoulder.

You rake your throat. “Did you end up texting Hobi last night?”

Jimin groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “I did, he never replied. I’m such a dumbass. And now he wasn’t even here tonight.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have texted him.”

“Don’t say that, there might be an explanation.” You ruffle his raven head of hair.

“Yeah, he doesn’t like me.”

“You don’t know that! I’m ready to bet that he actually does.” You soothingly whisper against his hair.

“I’m not. I’m nothing special, look at him. He’s so warm and beautiful, in every sense of the word. He’s smart and funny and talented.”

You put all of your papers in a tall glass before replying,

“And you’re not? ‘Cause I’d use these exact words to describe you, Chim.”

He perks up at your words. “You would?”

You kiss the top of his head. “I really would.”

“Thanks,” He shoots you a wide, toothy smile. 

And you think that anyone would be completely insane to not describe Jimin as an absolute treasure, a beautiful flower glowing and growing under the sun’s warm golden rays.

You’re gathering your things in the employees lounge when Yoongi comes back from the office, a tired look in his eyes. He engulfs you in a tight back hug, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder as he inhales deeply. You shiver and wrap your upper limbs around yourself, holding the man’s forearms in your hands.

“Do you want to come back to my place tonight?” He rasps out.

“I wish but.. I think I’ll go back home today and invite Chim.”

“I’m definitely not jealous that Jimin will be sleeping in your bed before I have the chance to.”

You laugh and slap his arm. “He’s had a rough day, I just wanna be there for him.”

He tightens his hold on you, leaving a few open mouthed kisses on the crook of your neck and all the way up to your jawline. You smile contentedly and close your eyes as a sigh escapes your lips.

“I know, I’m not being serious.” He nips at your neck, tearing a shaky gasp from you. 

“Although.. maybe I am a bit serious.”

“Yuck, y’all disgust me.”

Your eyes snap open as you separate from Yoongi and glare at Jimin, who’s sporting a scandalized expression.

“I don’t know, I think they’re kinda cute, in a cavity inducing way,” Jungkook happily chirps in as he puts his winter coat on.

You hide your face beneath your hands. “This is embarrassing.”

Yoongi shrugs, unbothered by all the comments, 

“Says the guy who professed his undying love for Joon in front of us all just last night.”

Jungkook’s cheeks pink up. “You guys backed me into a corner!”

“It needed to be done.” Jimin declares solemnly.

You burst out laughing. “Let’s stop teasing Kookie.”

Jungkook smiles and pulls you into a side hug. “I love you.”

You lovingly pat his hair and pull your coat on.

“Chim you down for a sleepover tonight? We could call Tae up when we wake up and have brunch or something.”

Jimin smiles brightly at you. “Really? Yes, yes I’m so down!”

“Alright, we’re taking my car though.”

You all make your way down the stairs and out the establishment where you wait for Yoongi to lock the place up, shivering as the cold air seeps through your bones.

“Well, Joon’s waiting for me in the car so, have a great night guys!” Jungkook waves as he makes his way towards Namjoon’s car. You all wish him a great night.

Jimin clears his throat and retreats a little farther. “I’ll let you guys um.. do what you gotta do.”

You shift awkwardly from feet to feet, stopping as soon as Yoongi cups your cheeks and plants a long, languid kiss upon your cold lips. “I’ll miss you tonight.” He murmurs against your mouth.

You feel instantly warmed up from the inside out by the implication of his words. He’d miss you, he wishes he could spend the night with you again. He’s not going anywhere, at least not for now. And you can’t squash down the butterflies roaming freely in your stomach, or the spark of hope illuminating your insides, not this time.

“I’ll text you.” You whisper back, throwing your arms around his neck and closing the distance between your lips for another soft kiss.

You part, intertwining your fingers once more before reluctantly letting go and rejoining Jimin on the other side of the street. 

Yoongi waves your way. “You guys have fun.”

And maybe things could go right just this one time, maybe you could manage to make this work.

You’ll sure as hell try your best.

a/n: aren't they so fucking cute?? It would be an absolute shame if something happened.

anywho, see you next time loves!

// to be added to the taglist, click here!

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@fragmentof-indifference

#bts x you #bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts au fic #bts fluff #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi au #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi smut #min yoongi scenario #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x female reader #bts x oc #min yoongi #bts au fanfic

[nyoominmin]

Min Yoongi fic recs

@cinnaminsvga - A boy like you (Coworker au) // here

@jimlingss - The third sixth (Friends to lover au) // here

@jimlingss - Boo-lieve in me (Ghost au) // here

@jimlingss - Ducklings and dimples (Historical au / Fantasy au) // here

@bangtan-dreamland - Calling producer Min Yoongi (Idol au) // here

@happy-meo - Silver Spoon (Office au) // here

@army-author - Felix Culpa (Fantasy au) // here

》 Fic rec masterlist

#Min yoongi #bts #imagines #oneshot #scenarios #fic recs #fluff #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenario

[doyoungiesbunnies]

[4:08 pm] - Min Yoongi | Our Song

The window air conditioner barely does anything against the summer heat.  You lean back against the headboard, nestling your head in a cooler spot of the pillow as you lay your laptop in front of you.  It’s not the best weather to study in by far; constantly needing to adjust your position from heat is the worst distraction.

Near the foot of the bed is another distraction, although a welcome one.  Your boyfriend had long since given up on studying in the summer heat.  He’d traded his paperback book for his guitar, the light strumming and picking creating a sweet backdrop to your not-so-lazy summer day.  He’d recently decided to try playing the instrument and he’s been learning to play anything between pop hits and classic soft rock.  Your heart swells with pride whenever he tries new things.  His perseverance and self-motivation are one of the many things you adore about him.

Your eyes trail off your laptop more distant to his figure.  He’s been stumbling through the same phrase for about 10 minutes, the adoring pout of his lips growing with each passing moment accompanied by scrunching eyebrows.  He tiptoes around it carefully, like a child sounding out a new word and repeating it until it comes more naturally before backtracking to incorporate it into the rest of the song.  He lets out a frustrated huff and starts from the beginning.

Pushing your notes off to the side, you crawl over behind him, resting on your knees to envelop your arms around his torso.  Behind your closed eyes, you see the faint melody of the song mapped out as he plays, stumbling every once in a while.  A warmth still blooms in your chest as he perseveres.  At your touch, his back muscles relax under you, helping him play a little smoother.  Your nose buries itself in his neck, ear pressed against his hair.

Somewhere along the line, the song smoothly transitions into a song you know very well.  You smile against his skin, lightly tapping a finger against him to keep time.  It’s the first song he completed, specifically because he wanted to serenade you as his first accomplishment.  You hum against his skin, coaxing him along.  The memory of him performing the song for you replays behind your closed eyes as you recall how nervous he was despite his gummy smile.

As he finishes with a flourish, you peck his cheek.  “You’ve gotten much better at that one.”

“Because I’ve played it so many times for you.”  Yoongi cranes his neck to return the favor.

You trace circles on his abdomen.  “Are you gonna learn a new one for my birthday?”

He fakes an exasperated expression.  “Not another one.”

You giggle and pepper kisses along his neck and shoulder before moving to his side, cupping his face.  “I’m proud of you.  You’re my talented boy.”

His eyes brighten just the tiniest bit, a shy smile spreading across his face.  He leans forward to kiss your nose.  “And you’re the best audience.”

~~

This is what happens when I'm tired at work, I end up daydreaming instead of working.

-Admin Chibi

#min yoongi #suga #bts #suga x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga comfort #min yoongi comfort #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral reader #bts timestamp #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts one shot #suga fluff #suga timestamp #min yoongi scenario #admin chibi #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic

[minthesin]

↠ Pairing: Yoongi x Jimin

↠ Warnings: none, just fluff :)

↠ Word count: 300 (I know, that’s not much)

author’s note: I just got the idea to write this very short drabble right after we celebrated the new year.

It’s 11:56 pm, four minutes till the new year. Jimin and Yoongi are sitting in a quiet place, enjoying the city panorama. The sky's starry and the moon illuminates the whole city.

This place has been Jimin’s and Yoongi’s favorite ever since they met. Nobody but them knows this place. It’s on a hill, with trees surrounding the area. The view is stunning.

They’re dressed warmly, curled up in a blanket, watching the starry sky.

They love to spend time here, in their favorite location. When it came to deciding where to celebrate New year, there was no doubt. Here, under the starry night sky.

“Four minutes left till the new year, baby,” Jimin says.

“Mhm, finally this shitty year will be over.” Yoongi tugs the blanket tighter around Jimin.

“What’s your biggest wish for this upcoming year?” Jimin asks.

“I want this year to be better, and for us to always be happy and together. What about you?”

“I want the same, I want to spend another year with you, to be happy, healthy, and to grow old together.”

Jimin rests his head on Yoongi’s shoulder (the healthy one) and hugs him with both arms. Yoongi cuddles him even closer by placing his arm on Jimin.

“Look, people are already letting off fireworks,” Yoongi says.

Jimin checks his phone. It’s midnight.

“Happy New Year, Hyung.”

“Happy New Year, Jimin.”

Yoongi leans towards Jimin and he does the same. Their eyes meet.

“I love you, Hyung.”

“I love you too, Chim.”

They kiss. Deeply and passionately, cupping each other’s cheeks.

“The fireworks are very beautiful,” Jimin mutters.

“Mhm, they are.”

They have the best view right now. Fireworks illuminate the whole city. Can this moment be any better? Probably not, they both thought the same.

#jimin #bangtan yoongi #min yoongi #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi one shot #jiminbts #jimin fanfic #park jimin #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenario #bangtan oneshot #drabble #bts drabble #yoongi drabble #jimin drabble #yoonmin #bangtan bts #bts fanfic #bts #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts one shot #bts suga #bangtan suga #min suga #bts suga fic #suga

[moonchild1]

min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

 ↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.  When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

#kiki!fic!rec #kiki's library #yoongi #yoongi fic recs #bts fic recs #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi:fluff #yoongi:smut #yoongi:angst #yoongi:oneshot #yoongi:series #bts smut #yoongi series #yoongi smut #min yoongi #min yoongi fanfiction #favourites!myg #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x yn #yoongi fic #yoongi bts #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two 

#yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #yoongi one shot #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

.

.

.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

#target audience im on my knees IM SO SO SORRY HOW R U FEELING!!!! #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

[bts-0t-7]

BTS | MYG | FIC RECS

This list is probably one of the longer ones cause sheesh... I'm a sucker for cats 😭 I hope you'll enjoy the fics as much as I have and don't forget to tell the authors how much you've liked their work!!

Have some spices 😌...

Three Tangerines, @kithtaehyung (smut, brother's best friend, implied age gap au)

Illicit Favours, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, tiny angst, smut, non idol au. Friends to Lovers)

Oh, Darling!, @yoongiofmine (Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au)

Predator, @liveyun (gangster au, smut)

Apricity, @liveyun (arranged marriage au, strangers to lovers)

Petals, @yoonia (parenthood au, fluff)

The devil wears Valentino, @orchidyoonkook (One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut, Fluff)

Sugar, @zehakoo (strangers to lovers, neighbours au, fluff, smut)

Peaches in bed, @borathae (Smut, married life!AU, domestic!AU)

Yoongi's Lullaby, @jiminrings (unrequited love friends to lovers soulmate au)

Snow Blanket, @yoonieper (friends to lovers, fluff, smut)

A Wager of Lords and Love, @hisunshiine (regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst)

By The Time I've Figured Out What It's Worth, @ugh-yoongi (est. relationship, marriage au, angst, smut, fluff)

Bad Things, @yoonia (Brothel!au, Street Fighter!Yoongi, Escort!reader)

Close Call, @xjoonchildx (smut, mafia AU)

The Little Things, @kth1 (Smut, 21+, Slice of Life, One Shot)

Sweet Morning, @7ndipity (slightly suggestive, implied smut, implied drinking, swearing)

Shy, @7ndipity (smut, unprotected sex, soft dom-ish Yoongi)

Hello Soulmate, @bluemari23 (soulmate au, soulmarks, fluff)

Celestial Ruin, @remedyx (Fantasy, Angst, Smut, Corruption)

Carnal Desires, @explicit-tae (smut, stripper reader, mafia/gangster yoongi, grinding, finger sucking)

Moonlit Throne, @hobidreams (smut, angst, fluff)

Desolate, @angelicyoongie (angst, fluff, eventual smut)

The Perks of Being a Househusband, @sunnebeam (marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi in his stay-at-home hubs era)

Give It To Me, @ki-yomii (smut, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), praise kink, dom!yoongi, established relationship, pet names)

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x oc #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi series #min yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff

[dirtybtssnaps]

their kinks?

(Not in order but I think it's most of them, and sorry about all the repeats. Also might change list soon)

Name: Kim Namjoon

His Kinks-

1.Voyeurism

2.Cuckolding

3.Overstimulation

4.Threesomes

5.Daddy

6.Affection

7. Pregnancy and Lactation

8. Photography/Videotaping

9. Degradation

10. Nudity

11. Ear Play

12. Sextoys

13. Cute Nickname

Name: Kim Seokjin

His Kinks-

1. FoodPlay

2. Leash and Collar

3. Puppy/Kitty/Bunny play

4. Love Marks

5. Blackmail

6. Humiliation

7. Watersports

8. Master/Daddy

9. Strength kink

10. Sextoys

11. Lingerie/Uniform

Name: Min Yoongi

His Kinks-

1. Videotaping

2. Handjobs/Blowjobs

3. Pussy Worship

4. Affection kink

5.Daddy

6. Cute Nicknames and Degration

7. Puppy/Kitty/Bunny play

8. Voyeurism/Cuckolding

9. Humiliation

10. Watersports

Name: Jung Hoseok 

His Kinks-

1. Pussy/Ass Worship

2. Humiliation

3. Love Marks

4. Overstimulation

5. Ear Play

6. Breast/Nipple Worship

7. Puppyplay

8. Exhibitionism

9. Double Penetration/Threesomes/Gangbangs

10. Sextoys

11. Sadism

Name: Park Jimin

His Kinks-

1. Affection kink

2. Love Marks

3. Breast/Nipple Worship

4. Pussy/Ass Worship

5. Handjobs/Blowjobs

6. Corruption kink

7. Nudity

8. Body Writing

9. Leash and collar

10. Kitten/Puppy and Bunny play

11. Photography/Videotaping

12. Humiliation

Name: Kim Taehyung

His Kinks-

1. Pregnancy/Lactation/Creampie

2. Breast/Nipple Worship

3. Overstimulation

4. Leash/Collar

5. Puppy and Kittyplay

6. Ear Play

7. Cute nicknames

8. Sextoys

9. Double Penetration and Gangbang

10. Lingerie/Uniform

11. Affection kink

Name: Jeon Jungkook

His Kinks-

1. Photography/Videotaping

2. Pussy Worship

3. Kinbaku/Blindfolds

4. Blackmail

5. Overstimulation

6. Love Marks

7. Body Writing

8. Threesomes

9. Leash and collar

10. Degradation

11. Humiliation

12. Nudity

13. Handjobs/ Blowjobs

#answered #kim namjoon smut #kim seokjin smut #min yoongi smut #jung hoseok smut #park jimin smut #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan soyeondan #bangtan sonyeondan smut #bts kinks #kim namjoon scenarios #kim seokjin scenario #min yoongi scenario #jung hoseok scenarios #park jimin scenario #kim taehyung scenario #jeon jungkook scenario

[aamalaaa]

sunrises & liquor (m) | myg

worth it (you are)

pairing: yoongi x reader

series: sunrises & liquor

rating: m(18+); cursing, alcohol consumption, smut, explicit content

genre: bar workers au, barman yoongi au, (kinda) forbidden relationship, angst, fluff, smut

summary: after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.

warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption (duh), smut, dom!yoongi, switch!reader, dirty talk, biting, slapping, oral sex(f. receiving), protected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks), workplace sex, body worshipping(sort of), vomit inducing fluff, angst

a/n: YES, yes, two S&L updates in a week, a miracle. we’ve been waiting for it folks, they get nasty nasty. Also, quite a few exciting things happen(squeeeeeal) this was just very fun to write! I hope you enjoy, don’t forget to leave comments if you did! &lt;3

// thanks to my dear friend who beta’d for me, @lilredtot couldn’t have done it without you I love you<3

chapter word count: 6.9k *wink wink*

previous | next

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You’re a hypocrite. Such a hypocrite.

Because you always tell people it’s ok to make mistakes, it’s human, and the only important thing is how we handle them, how we apologize and try to do better.

But as soon as Yoongi made a mistake, you dismissed him and cut him off. Yes, the way he acted was reproachable and he needed to take time to think about how his actions hurt you both.

He didn’t deserve the way you treated him though, like he’s disposable, unimportant. Because he’s not, god he’s not. He’s the most impressive man you’ve ever met, the most caring and attentive. He did fuck up, and you still weren’t sure if you could build anything on such a shaky foundation.

But wasn’t he worth a try?

Taehyung was right, you are closed off. Self-sabotaging even.

As soon as you saw a possibility, vulnerability, you squashed it down mercilessly. You did it without even realizing. You only understood a few days later, after pondering over what happened on Saturday night again and again.

Yoongi texted you on that night, to ask you if you had gotten home safe and you replied to tell him you did. Since then, it’s been radio silence between you both. You did tell him you needed space to think, he’s simply respecting your wish.

It still hurts though, and you’re a goddamn hypocrite.

You let out a dramatic groan as you turn around in your bed, burying your face in your best friend's chest.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, please don’t make me,” Your voice comes out muffled.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “No one’s making you do anything,” He strokes your hair softly. “You will have to face him at some point though, so why not make money at the same time. It’s a win-win situation if you ask me.”

You lift your head up and shoot him a panicked look. “I literally cannot face him, Tae, I was such a bitch to him. How do I even begin to apologize?”

“You say ‘Hey I’m so sorry I was a right cow with you, though you did kind of deserve it, can we talk’ and voila.” He says, matter-of-factly.

“Can you be serious,” You shoot him a deadpan look.

He sighs exasperatedly. “I am being serious. You overthink shit way too much, just be honest and straight to the point. You guys need to communicate better, start with that.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?” You whisper.

Taehyung sends you a warm boxy smile, and it’s so comforting you can’t help but relax a little, loosening your hold on his stomach. “Somehow I doubt that.” He soothes.

You nod and lay your head on his chest. “I’m scared, Tae.”

He strokes your hair again as you close your eyes.

“I know.”

You wake up in a sweat, barely remembering your nightmares, though you know they must’ve been terrible to have you wake up in such a state. Taehyung’s long gone, he probably left as soon as you fell asleep.

You must’ve been exhausted not to notice him leaving.

You begrudgingly get up, glancing at the clock as you do, it indicates two in the afternoon.

“Fuck,” You curse out loud, realizing how long you’ve been sleeping.

You have two and a half hours to get ready and get to work. Not impossible at all, you just hate not having enough time to read a little, listen to music and peacefully drink your coffee.

You sigh as you make your way to the shower, almost falling asleep as you stand in it. You end up spending forty-five minutes in there, getting out only when the water gets too cold to stay.

You’re stalling, you know it, not looking forward to spending the night working with Yoongi. It’s completely pointless and stupid, you’re only cutting your own alone time short.

You spend the next hour and forty-five minutes getting ready. You’re so anxious you smudge your eyeliner and have to wipe your face clean and apply makeup all over again.

(“I fucking hate myself,” you whispered to absolutely no one but your pathetic self.)

And so, you get to the bar five minutes late, panting as you run down the street from your car to the bar, not bothering to go get coffee on the way. A decision you regretted immediately because how the fuck are you supposed to survive this night without coffee?

You almost fall down as you run into a crack in the pavement, barely managing to maintain your balance. Why does life hate you.

“Woah there,” Namjoon breathes out as he hurries towards you.

You shove your hair out of your mouth,

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Crisis averted."

“You look on the verge of a mental breakdown" He chuckles.

“Please don’t remind me," You aim for the door handle, only for Namjoon to stop you.

“I was joking." He shoots you a strained smile, no dimples. You prefer his real smile. “Are you okay?"

“Did Yoongi tell you?" You shyly ask.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Nah, I haven’t been able to talk to him all week. What happened?"

Your heart sinks, this isn't good.

“Nothing dramatic, don’t worry. Talk to you later, yeah?" You lie.

“Yeah, okay." He eyes you suspiciously before opening the door and letting you in. You jump up the stairs, very aware of your tardiness.

You sigh in relief when you don’t spot Yoongi and grin as soon as your gaze meets Jimin, quietly cleaning tables with a rag. You amble towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug from behind as soon as you reach him. He jumps at the contact, and swivels around, relaxing as soon as he sees you.

“Fuck you scared me," He brings a hand up to his chest.

You giggle. “I missed you Chimchim."

Jimin rolls his eyes but a wide grin stretches upon his cheeks. “We saw each other last monday, you big softie."

You pout and he laughs, flicking your nose playfully.

“Is Yoongi not here?" You bite your bottom lip.

“I’m here."

Jimin barely conceals his amusement as your eyes widen.

You swirl around towards the sound of his voice, your heart hammering in your chest as you mentally curse yourself. You meet his gentle gaze, which only worsens your overall state.

“Oh," You blush furiously. “Hi." This is pathetic, you’re pathetic.

“Hey," He retorts, eyes still focused on you.

Jimin eyes dart between the both of you before he sighs and continues wiping the tables clean. “This is painful to watch. You’re both coming to my place tonight whether you want it or not, and I’m locking you in my bedroom until you fucking talk."

“You’re kidnapping us?" Your eyes shoot daggers at him.

“Very rude," Yoongi grumbles. You think you can make out amusement in his tone.

A booming voice makes you jump as soon as it hits your ears.

“Ahhh, the best team is in the place," Jungkook chants, clearly not reading the awkward atmosphere.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though you can see mirth swimming through them. “The best team should probably get ready for opening."

“Hey! I’m working“," Jimin huffs indignantly.

“Hyung, you’re no fun," Jungkook stares Yoongi down, which makes you cackle loudly.

“Yes, I’m the most boring person you’ll ever know. Now whoosh," He chases him away with his dirty rag.

You go to the employees lounge and get ready for the night, a little less nervous than you were before.

Funny how the man partly responsible for your nervousness can also be the one to chase it away.

There’s so many customers that come in and out throughout the night that you can barely catch a break to go to the restroom. When closing time arrives, you’re hungry as fuck and way too sober for your liking.

The same cannot be said for Jimin and Jungkook, the happy-go-lucky pair cleaning serving trays as they sing a duet, a song you don’t recognize. Perhaps it’s because they can barely pronounce the words correctly.

Yoongi is still in the office counting the cash register and you’re busy putting back the clean glasses to where they belong, laughing quietly at your friend's shenanigans. You wonder when they managed to get this drunk, considering the busy night you just went through.

You hear loud footsteps echoing through the staircase and lift your head up. Namjoon is quickly making his way up and towards the bar, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself.

“I know I’m not supposed to come up but goddamn, it’s so fucking cold outside."

“I don’t think Seokjin would mind," You chuckle.

“Hyung, are you cold?" Jungkook stops singing and heads to the employees lounge, coming back just as soon holding his winter coat. “Here, put it on." He drapes the warm coat on Namjoon’s shoulders then pats his hair in a caring manner.

Namjoon’s face reddens at the younger man’s actions. “Jungkook-ah, I can’t take it, you’ll be cold."

“Nah I won’t, I’m rarely cold. Look," He brings his hand up to the older man’s neck, the latter’s eyes widening as he does so.

“Y-yeah, you’re really hot." He sputters.

And you can’t help but cackle loudly at his words, they’re both way too cute and awkward for their own good.

“Yeah, you’re really hot Kookie," You tease.

Jungkook looks confused but ultimately shrugs and goes back to his task. Namjoon sends you a glare, which only prompts you to laugh even harder.

“Why is Kook-ah hot?" Yoongi chips in, which causes your heart rate to alarmingly quicken its pace. The man will be the death of you.

“You should ask Namjoon-hyung, '' Jimin says, a wicked grin plastered upon his features.

You double over in laughter, abandoning the task at hand while Namjoon turns an even deeper shade of red.

“Is there something I’m not getting? Why is everyone laughing?" Jungkook irritatedly inquires.

“You’re both way too oblivious I swear to god," Yoongi chortles.

“Oblivious to what?" Jungkook says, getting more and more irritated as you, Jimin and Yoongi go on laughing.

“Just accept that you’re in love with each other already, please," Jimin says through a fit of laughter.

“I don’t have to accept anything, I already know I am," He snarls before dropping the rag he’s been holding and marching decisively towards Namjoon, grabbing both sides of the older man’s face and planting a determined smooch on his plush lips.

You all stop laughing at once, sharing bewildered looks as Jungkook and Namjoon unashamedly kiss. They part after a few seconds, staring adoringly into each other’s eyes while the three of you stand in complete silence.

You never thought they would actually take the plunge.

“I love you, hyung," Jungkook whispers as he caresses the bouncer’s cheek.

The older man’s eyes widen comically. “I love you too, Jungkook-ah," He whispers back, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

“Well, umm," Jimin starts. “Congrats?" You and Yoongi hum in agreement, too surprised by the turn of events to say anything else.

But they both ignore the lot of you, too enraptured in each other’s devoted gaze to notice anything else. And so you swiftly go back to what you were doing.

Yoongi helps you put the glasses away while Jimin finishes his task.

“Well, I guess it finally happened," He declares, incredulous.

“Never thought it would," You reply, just as bewildered.

“Sometimes it takes longer than normal for the best relationships to properly flourish.” He says, a serious undertone to his voice.

You still at his words, unsure if you’re still talking about Jungkook and Namjoon. “Yeah, I guess..”

You both go for the same glass as each other, his slender fingers brushing yours as you do. You feel goosebumps bursting out like thorns on your skin and snap your head up at the contact.

Yoongi peers into your eyes, seemingly as shaken as you and opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure what to say. Which is when Namjoon decides to speak up,

“I’m sorry Chim but tonight we’ll be going home together, me and Kook-ah. Rain check next friday, yeah?” He wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist.

“Don’t tell me that you’ll start ditching me now that you got together,” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Namjoon chuckles at this, adorable dimples on display, and you can’t help but feel so fucking happy for your friends.

“It’s just for tonight I promise.”

Jimin still pouts but gives him a small nod before turning towards you and Yoongi. “You guys are coming right?”

You bite your lip, your uneasiness slowly creeping back in. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, but upon seeing your face, he closes it. You focus on the tiled floor, hiding your embarrassment to the best of your abilities.

Your anxiousness must’ve been very apparent because when he speaks again, it’s to decline Jimin’s invitation.

“I have a few things to do, but next Friday it’s on though.” He gives him an apologetic smile.

The younger man looks dejected.

You wipe your wet hand on your skirt, now done with the dishwasher. “I’m sorry Chim, I’m kinda tired.”

“Ugh, fine. Y’all better be paying for beer next week.” He heads to the employees lounge and you all soon follow, grabbing your belongings before closing the lights and heading out, down the stairway and out the door.

You wish your friends a good night and trudge down the street accompanied by Jimin. Soon enough, you get to your car and pull him into a tight hug.

“I’m really sorry, I’m just really not up for it tonight..”

He squeezes you tighter. “I was only half-joking, it’s fine babe. I’ll text people and see if anybody’s awake.”

“Mmhm, by people you mean a certain red haired someone?” You smirk against his shoulder.

He huffs and flicks your hair before heading back in the bar’s direction, where Jungkook and Namjoon are waiting to drive him home, a small smile on his lips. “Maybe.”

You chuckle, unlocking your car and slide in as fast as you can to spare yourself from enduring the cold breeze any longer. You start the ignition and peer outside, waiting for the heat to defog your windows.

You see Namjoon’s car take off and wait a little longer, replaying the night’s events in your head.

And you smile softly when you think about your two friends finally getting together, about Jimin calling up Hoseok at four in the morning.

But your smile falters as soon as you think about Yoongi, and how everything about you and him is complicated. You wish you could just call him up and ask him to meet you in the early morning hours. You wish he could come back to your house after work, where you both could watch the sunrise peacefully. You wish you didn’t turn him down because of your stubbornness and self-sabotaging ways.

Sometimes you wish you could be someone else, unburdened by all the baggage you carry around, day-in and day-out.

You reach for your purse and search for your cell phone, wanting to play music to drown out the noise in your head.

“Where the fuck..?” You mutter to no one but you.

You search your hoodie’s pockets, unsuccessfully. You must’ve forgotten it inside.

“Why am I like this?” A quiet groan escapes your lips.

You get out of your car and head towards the bar, your eyes darting from left to right to make sure no one’s around. You hug your shoulders as you approach the door, the lights are off. Of fucking course. You all left together, the place is closed and locked.

You whine loudly and slowly slide your back down against the door, closing your eyes in the process.

You breathe in and out. “It’s fine, you work tomorrow you can just grab it then.” You whisper to yourself.

You open your eyes again, and hope suddenly blooms in you as they catch an interesting detail.

Yoongi’s car is still there.

You quickly get up and grab your purse from the ground before tentatively pulling at the door handle.

It opens, producing a small rusty noise as it does, and you quietly head inside, unsure of exactly why you’re acting this way.

You try to make minimal noise as you leisurely step up the stairs, and let your eyes adjust to the darkness when you get to the main floor.

There’s no lights on, only darkness. And you wonder where Yoongi is, if not in the main room.

Maybe the office?

You hastily head towards the bar, trying not to bump into anything.

You end up failing, walking right into a chair on your way there. It falls to the ground, the loud noise reverberating through the silence.

“Who’s there?”

You freeze as soon as you hear Yoongi’s hoarse voice.

“I-It’s me,” You whisper.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you make out a silhouette a few feet away from you, sitting at a bar stool.

You step closer. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

He clears his throat, you can see him clutching a large object in his arms. “Why are you here?” He deflects. You frown and sit on the bar stool next to him.

It’s a guitar, he’s holding a guitar. He was playing.

“I think I forgot my cell phone,”

“Oh,” Is all he says.

You lean on the counter, trying to take a good look at him. You can’t really see his eyes, or features.

Damn darkness.

“Why are you sitting here, in the dark, instead of at home?” You ask again.

“Didn’t feel like going home.” He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “You should go home, it’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your car.”

He carefully drops his guitar on the counter and gets up. You panic, though you don't understand why. “Wait-“

He looks up, meeting your gaze and you freeze, unsure of what prompted you to stop him.

“What?” He asks, almost pleadingly. It tugs at your heartstrings.

You wanna tell him. Tell him that you’re so fucking attached to him you cant bear the awkwardness anymore, would do anything he wants to get back to what it was before, have another chance to not fuck this up. Maybe have something like Jungkook and Namjoon, further down the line.

But barely anything comes out except a soft, airy,

“Stay”

You can see it in his eyes, despite the darkness, the moment he gives in and sits back down on the stool he had occupied moments ago.

“Yeah.. I can do that.”

You both stay silent for a few seconds before Yoongi speaks up.

“I’m sorry..”

You put your hand on his forearm and squeeze it lightly. “I know.” You start. “I blew this way out of proportion, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No no. You were right, I acted like a total ass, I shouldn't have expected the worst of you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, and for fuck’s sake, you wish you could go through one conversation with him without crying.

“Yeah you shouldn’t have. But I shouldn’t have treated you like I did either.” You shakily reply, taking a deep breath as soon as the words are out.

“I guess we both fucked up, uh?” He chuckles, the sound coming out strained from emotions.

“I guess we did,” You giggle, two lonely tears escaping your eyes at the same moment. “That’s what people do.”

He abruptly stands up and you shudder when he steps closer to you, sending you a slightly alarmed look as he strokes your hair.

“Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He soothes, his deep gruff voice sending a wave of warmth throughout your whole body.

“I just-“ You hiccup. “What’s gonna happen now?”

He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head so you can only look him straight in the eye.

“What do you want to happen?” He whispers, his breath fanning over your face.

“I don’t want to lose you,” You shiver.

He brings his soft lips to your forehead, leaving a gentle kiss there. “You won’t.”

You grip the front of his white t-shirt, as if it could help you deal with your emotions, ground you. All it does is send your mind into a frenzy as you feel Yoongi’s skin against your own.

“I’ll be there, even if only as a friend.” He continues, coming back to eye level with you.

“But I want more than that,” You murmur, flushing as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Yoongi stares at you for a moment before caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch and close your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever he’ll decide to reply.

It’s easier when you’re not looking at him.

“Then what do you want, love?”

You utter the next word so low you’re not even sure he’s heard it,

“You”

Yoongi inhales sharply. “Look at me.”

You comply immediately, meeting a pair of dark orbs looking at you in almost reverence.

“You have me, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He firmly says, holding your gaze and swiping his thumb in circular motions across your skin.

You feel overcome by emotions, after everything, he still wants you. And that’s too much, you don’t know what to do with all this affection threatening to burst out of your heart at any moment.

“Kiss me,” You plead, eyes shimmery and wet.

You notice how his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly, and he blinks in a drawn out manner, inhaling as he does so. You watch him anxiously.

“That’s an easy request,” He grumbles before closing the gap between both of your mouths, leaving you breathless as soon as his pillowy flesh latches onto yours.

You choke out a sob and throw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he cradles your face with both hands, gently, like an anchor amid the turbulent sea of emotions raging through you.

He doesn’t press, content on moving his lips against yours in soft, languid motions. He waits for you to deepen the kiss, as if unsure if you really want it, letting you decide where to take this.

And god, you want this. You’ve been wanting this for so long. Not the explosive moment you shared in the back alley last week, not the sorrowful kiss you shared as you left either.

You wanted this, Yoongi pressing against you with devotion, making you whimper as he nibbles at your bottom lip with fervor. This is everything you wanted, and more.

So you show him exactly how much you want this, slightly tugging the hair at the bottom of his nape and sliding your tongue against his lips, asking for permission. And permission, he grants.

But before you know it he takes control of the situation, sliding his grip down to your hips and licking at your mouth in expert strokes, taking over you in a matter of seconds.

But you won’t let him win, not this easily.

You push him back slightly, smirking as he stumbles onto the bar stool and sits down in order not to lose balance. You stand up and straddle him, giggling as you notice the sheer look of surprise adorning his face.

“What are you-“

You shush him, bringing a finger up to his lips as you settle onto him. He brings his hands back to your hips, sending a wave of goosebumps up your back. You can feel him smirk against your digit.

And god, you really want to wipe that gorgeous smirk off his face right now.

So you hungrily crash your lips against his, relishing in the moan that escapes him as you roll your hips against his hardening covered length.

He suddenly tugs your hair in one quick motion and you’re forced to detach from him, a thin thread of saliva connecting both of your mouths together as you quietly moan, your undergarments soaking almost immediately at the display of dominance.

Yoongi nibbles at your ear, the action spurring an aroused shudder out of you.

“Be careful love, you’re advancing into dangerous territory here.” He all but groans in your ear, you can’t help but shake in his hold.

You may not have the upper hand in this after all.

“What if I want it?” You whine.

The blond man chuckles.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” He drawls, teasingly licking at your ear lobe.

You roll your hips against him again, earning you a hoarse groan in warning. “Then show me.”

He tugs even harshly at your hair and this time you whine loudly, too gone to give a single fuck about how loud you are.

He examines your face before huffing in disbelief,

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes,” You whisper brokenly.

“Then you’ll have to tell me exactly what you want,”

You wriggle in his hold, very shy of a sudden. Because you can’t tell him exactly what you want.

“Yoongi,” You plead, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you want something you have to tell me love,” He draws soothing circles on your back while still holding your hair in his other hand.

Your voice comes out small and uneven,

“I want you”

He tugs again as he jerks his hips up, brushing against your core. “Last warning, tell me exactly what you want.”

You feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes in pure frustration as you yell out the next words,

“I want you inside me, you asshole!”

He chuckles deeply before loosening his hold on your hair and stroking it. “Now, now. No need to get mean.”

He pushes against your neck, and connects his lips onto yours once more, immediately swiping his tongue against your own to assert dominance. You let out a wanton whimper as you let him plough into your warm mouth.

You try to grind against him, though your movements are uncoordinated and shaky from the sheer intensity of the need coursing throughout your whole body.

But Yoongi soon understands what you want and starts grinding upwards, hissing against your mouth at the much needed friction.

“Fuck,” He inhales deeply through his nose. “Take this off.” He tugs at the seams of your crop top.

You take it off slowly, it’s the best you can do considering your current state. You feel your breast sag down as soon as you lift the piece of clothing off and shudder at the myriad of curses that escapes Yoongi’s mouth.

“Fucking hell love, you’re not even wearing a bra, are you fucking kidding me.” He grunts as his dark and hungry eyes bore into yours.

“I- I never d-do-“

You can’t even finish your sentence before you let out a sharp cry as Yoongi’s skilled lips latch onto your right nipple, sucking and biting lightly as his other hand pinches and rolls your left sensitive nub between its index and thumb, making you throw your head back in pure pleasure.

“Y-Yoongi,” You strangle out, gripping his hair loosely as he continues to expertly ravage your perth nipples, a pool of warmth settling into the base of your stomach.

He drags his teeth onto your sensitive skin one last time before he kisses you again, so aggressively that you’re sure your lips look completely used and abused by now.

“God I fucking love these tits,” He growls as his hand leaves a sharp stinging slap on your left breast.

You grab the front of his shirt in your tiny fist before whimpering hoarsely,

“I want it off, please.”

Yoongi smirks confidently before tugging his shirt off. “Anything you want love.”

You feel your guts churn as you admire for the first time Yoongi’s naked chest. Inches of soft, pale skin begging to be touched, and so you do, sliding your palms gently across the smooth expanse of his chest, tracing each and every line with your index finger, spurring shivers out of Yoongi as you do so.

Yoongi waits patiently as you try and burn each and every dip and moles, every inch of skin, into your mind. You notice a small scar, close to his hip and caress it delicately. “Where’d you get this?”

“A car accident,” He shrugs, taking your wandering hand into his palm and linking your fingers together. You look into his eyes and find him staring right back at you, adoringly.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper faintly.

Yoongi hums quietly before bringing a hand up from your hip to your face, a bashful grin plastered upon his criminally handsome face.

“You sure you want this?”

You nod firmly, you’re sure. So fucking sure.

“If at any point you want me to stop or feel uncomfortable with something, you need to tell me. Alright?”

“Alright” You murmur.

He grabs your chin and seals your lips together in a searing kiss that has your head spinning and your toes curling. You feel like your blood has turned into lava, like your whole body’s burning from the inside out.

“Then take this pretty skirt off,” He groans against your lips.

You mewl unashamedly and quickly leave his lap, almost losing balance as your shaky legs plant on the ground if it wasn’t for his strong hold onto your hip, keeping you from falling down onto your bum.

Your skirt pools around your ankles as you slip it off, soon to be followed by your now soaking wet undergarments. You kick them off to the side as you settle onto Yoongi’s lap once again.

He leans forward, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging lightly on it.

“Nuh-uh. Get up and sit right here.” He pats the bar surface, you widen your eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that love,” He teases.

“But-“

“Do you not want me to eat you out or what?” He taunts.

You gulp audibly as you clench around nothing, completely blindsided by his words.

“Can you-“ Your voice breaks.

He taps on the bar stool and you tentatively climb on it. You feel a sharp sting on your bare ass and wince in pain.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Yoongi chuckles darkly before helping you up on the bar counter. You timidly sit at the edge, thighs rubbing together as you anxiously stare at the ceiling.

A rough hand grabs your chin and tilts your head down. “None of that bullshit. Open those pretty legs baby.”

You blush furiously at the sheer obscenity of his words, though you do part your legs a bit, as if guided by primal instinct.

But it’s not enough for Yoongi, and he pulls them wider apart as he slots in between them, leaving a quick harsh kiss onto your bruised plump flesh.

“Gonna eat that pussy out ‘til you come apart on my tongue, got it?” He promises darkly, you nod and whine weakly. “Use your words, love.”

You bite your sensitive lip and beg, full on beg,

“Yes, please, Yoongi-”

The man chuckles and bends down, hooking both of your thighs onto his shoulders as he kisses your inner thighs teasingly, the warm touch sending you into overdrive. He lays one thick swipe of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, making you jerk as soon as his wet warmth comes into contact with your needy cunt.

“So fucking wet already baby,” He purrs against you, the vibration tearing a high pitched moan out of your raw throat.

And then he dives in, sticking his tongue in and out of you in sweet agonizing motions, then focusing on your clit and sucking lightly on it before expertly rubbing circles on it with the tip of his tongue. You let out a chain of broken moans, absolutely unable to keep them at bay, the heat in your gut burning obscenely as you grip his hair in an attempt to steady yourself.

He continues licking at your sensitive nub, and you almost lose balance as he slides a digit, then two, into you, dragging the flat tip on his fingers onto your tight walls.

“Yoongi!” You yell out, feeling the familiar burn of your high quickly pooling at the bottom of your stomach in an unstoppable manner. He slips his fingers out of you, soon to be replaced by a slick tongue prodding at your entrance as his fingers come into contact with your clit, rubbing quick circles onto it and drawing your orgasm close at a dangerous speed.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” You sob, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady yourself as you feel your body tingling, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Cum,” He orders as he smacks a hand onto your clit.

And that’s all it takes for you to stumble over the edge, crying out as soon as the first wave of your orgasm hits you. It’s frighteningly intense, something you’ve never experienced before. You can’t even feel your limbs as you go completely lax in the blond man’s hold. It feels so god damn good you don’t want it to ever stop. You register Yoongi’s mouth leaving open mouthed kisses onto your thighs, caressing them soothingly as you come down from the heights of pleasure.

“Oh my god,” You dumbfoundingly whisper.

“You taste so goddamn good,” He stands up and puts his fingers in his mouth,sucking them dry of your cum. It’s so vulgar and arousing you might as well orgasm right on the spot again.

You blush furiously, hiding behind your hands.

“What? No one ever told you that?” He takes both of your hands in his large veiny ones and sends you a quizzical look.

“N-no,” You bashfully admit.

He stares in shock. “Well someone’s eaten you out before right?” You nod.

“Yeah they just.. They never made me cum from it. Never tried long enough.” You wriggle one of your dainty hand free and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

“Fucking dumbasses,” Yoongi groans. “You’re a fucking treat, I could do this all goddamn day.”

You try to clamp your thighs shut but Yoongi’s waist stops you from doing so. He tuts playfully before flicking your chin with his finger.

“How am I gonna fuck you if you close those pretty legs love?”

You gasp as he forcefully strikes your thigh with the flat side of his hand, making you jolt in the process.

“Do you want to stop?” He inquires, voice softening as he peers into your eyes.

“No please don’t,” You answer truthfully. “I want you so fucking bad Yoongi,” You tug at his waist band, earning you a low growl from the blond man.

“Good, then you better not try to close these again.” He swats at your leg and dips a hand into his back pocket to retrieve a condom before unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall down to his knees, soon doing the same with his underwear.

You marvel at the sight of his thick length, leaking precum right under his navel, it’s so inviting you just want to lick at it over and over again until the man whimpers your name.

But you’re brought back to reality when a large hand clamps down around your neck. You snap your eyes to Yoongi’s face, drinking in greedily the completely lustful look in his eyes.

He tears the wrapping with his teeth and wraps the protection around his length, pumping himself a few times before slapping your clit with the head of his cock, you jolt on the spot as a rush of heat washes over you.

“Gonna fuck this little cunt open now, yeah?” His vulgar words make your head spin and you feel sweat trickling down your neck.

“Please,” You rasp out.

“Look at me, don’t you fucking dare look away.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

You nod eagerly and your mouth opens wide as soon as you feel the head of his thick girth prodding at your entrance. You force yourself to look straight into his obsidian eyes despite the electrifying intrusion, though you can’t help but roll your eyes as he pushes in slowly.

He squeezes your throat lightly and you peer at him once again, focusing on his sinful gaze.

“Baby goddamn you’re tight,” He moans as he ever-so-slowly pushes against your pulsating walls.

You let out a sharp sob as Yoongi pushes himself to the hilt, his hips hitting yours. He breaks eye contact as his head throws back in overwhelming ecstasy at the feeling of warm heat clamping down around him. You feel yourself shaking from the intense stimulation, though you want more. Need more.

“You can move,” You breathe out.

And just like that, he starts rocking his hips against you, you can feel the tip of his length rubbing against your walls in tantalizing motions.

“Please,” You sob out as a single tear flutters against your eyelashes.

“Shhh baby,” He soothes, before slowly pulling out, only to dive back in as tension builds in your abdomen. He slides his hands down to the back of your thighs and grips hard enough to leave bruises, and you really wouldn’t mind.

He soon picks up his pace and starts ramming into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin so fucking obscene you’d like to record it. You cry out his name incoherently, you’re not even sure you can even pronounce letters at this point, being way past behind coherent thoughts considering the relentless pounding Yoongi inflicts upon your bruised insides.

You wouldn’t want it any other way.

He suddenly lifts your hips up, deepening the angle at which he plows through you, and your back curves at the extreme pleasure the new position blinds you with.

“R-right there, Yoongi!” You moan out, arching your back even more.

“There?” He huffs out as he thrusts sharply into you, hitting the same sweet spot over and over again.

“Ah! Yes!” You cry out as you feel another high hurtling at you at record speed. You can’t even warn him before your orgasm overtakes you so suddenly you can only scream his name brokenly, over and over. You’re barely aware of it when he stutters and spills into the condom, his high coaxed out by the sharp fluttering of your walls, as he painfully digs his nails into your thighs.

You stay still for a moment, breathing heavily as you let your heart rates calm down and get back to normal levels. You delicately play with strands of blond hair, Yoongi’s head resting heavily against your chest as he runs his hand up and down your arm, it’s comforting you think.

After a few minutes you regain a certain sense of reality and you take in your surroundings. There’s clothes laying on the floor and the first rays of the sun peek through the windows.You sigh contentedly, you’re completly fucked out.

You try to suppress a hiss as Yoongi slides out of you. He lays a few open mouthed kisses on your neck which prompts a few goosebumps to break upon the surface of your skin. Yoongi smiles softly against your neck when he notices.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” He genuinely asks, lifting his head to analyze your face properly.

“I’m more than okay,” You chuckle fondly, he’s so damn attentionate.

“Good.”

You feel a thumb skim over your lip before a pair of plush lips leave a sloppy kiss onto yours, which you reciprocate ardently.

“How are you?” You inquire and run a hand through his tousled blond hair.

He snorts. “I’m doing amazing love.”

You laugh quietly and peck his lips again. “Should we leave soon?”

“Yeah, probably,” He sighs.

You lightly flick his forehead,

“Then let’s go.”

You unhurriedly get dressed and grab your things, bantering in between playful slaps and gentle kisses. When you head out the door it’s already morning and you can hear a few birds whistling as a new day settles over the quiet city streets.

You head for your car but you’re soon tugged back into a warm and strong embrace that has you melt into a puddle on the concrete.

You sink back into Yoongi’s chest as he holds you tight and leaves a few kisses at the back of your neck.

And you feel content like this, like maybe things are finally falling into place for you. You wouldn’t mind getting used to these warm hands and beautiful soft lips drawing shapes onto your skin.

“Yoongi what are you doing,” You giggle. “I have to go home and sleep.”

He hums understandingly. “Yeah, you do. You could come to my place. We can sleep and I could drive us back here for our shift.”

You break out into laughter at his clinginess. That’s one thing you wouldn’t have expected.

“But I’d have no clean clothes for tomorrow.” You pout.

“We can drive by your place on the way back,” Yoongi tightens his hold against you.

“Okay, let’s go to your place then. Plus, I can meet Cat.” You chuckle as he nips at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You just want to meet Cat uh, is that it?” He feigns indignance.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, of course. I slept with you to meet Cat.”

“Fucking knew it.”

You turn your head as far as you can and kiss him gently, though you soon part because of the very uncomfortable angle.

You ruffle his blond head of hair before happily whispering,

“Let’s go meet Cat.”

-

-

a/n: fucking finally, them fucking kids istg. anyway, thanks for reading lovelies it means the world to me I just love seeing all your comments and reblogs<3

// here’s the link to be added to the series taglist, click right here!

taglist: @vesperbells @tarahardcore @tea4sykes

@bonitaangel @kthstrawberryshortcake-main

@princesspiineapple @funkylittlebisexuall

@kikaninchen-2 @diorjgguk @purplelo

@lil6nmrll @perfect-bae @bwormie

@fragmentof-indifference

#bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts au fic #bts drabble #bts fluff #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi angst #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi au #min yoongi drabble #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi scenario #bts smut #bts scenarios #namkook #jihope #smut #bts imagines #min yoongi imagine #sunrises&liquor #yoongi au #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi smut

[liveyun]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 | MYG (m)

title. predator

summary. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of.”

pairing(s). yoongi x female reader (oc)

genre. gangster au, smut

warnings. kidnäpping but not much of its descriptions, corruption and weapons, double thoughts, an..gst? , explicit warnings under the cut :)

wc. 7.8k+

a/n 1 : if you feel like some parts feel familiar to you, it's because this was previously posted in my old blog around a year ago which was inspired by ‘that that’. but this is a newly written and re-edited one :)))

taglist | main masterlist

smut warnings : masturbation(f), voyeurism and mentions of exhibitionism, fantasizing, dirty talk , slight humiliation, pet names teasing, chains and gloves 😗 , so much of teasing dear lord, bondage 🫣 , gagging with panties, bondage, oral (f. and allusions to m.) and fingering (f), finger sucking and squirting :D

“ f..fuck..”

Your eyes screw shut just the moment you feel your fingers working against the fabric of your clothed cunt, your wetness increasing with each flick of your fingers to your throbbing clit. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as your moments get a bit faster, feeling your slick pool around your entrance. It's your fingers who are working, but in your mind, those ring clad fingers are the ones touching you. Pleasing you.

The feeling of your panties being the barrier is very much uncomfortable, you need to take that off to feel yourself completely.

You harshly pull your panties down your legs, feeling the cool air hitting your slick heat, making you shudder as you hiss in anticipation. You can't deal with this anymore, you need to do something. Or else you'd completely go insane thinking about that man.

It just happened like a daydream. A few days ago, you can guess, flying away like hours.

You wake up to a strong headache with your vision being blurred and watery. A pair of black Jordan shoes tapping the floor, in slow motions, comes to your sight, as if waiting for something to come is all that you could see at that moment with dots growing in your vision. The moment you feel a bit more awake, your whole body aches so bad, it feels as if you've been trashed up.

Your whole body feels as wobbly as jelly all over. Whimpering, you try to move slightly, but fail with a broken sigh. That's when you feel a strong arm wrapping around your figure, hauling you up swiftly, and you let out a small gasp at the action. Your head spins at the sudden movement as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your breathing was strained as your chest heaves up and down, trying to gulp as much oxygen as you could. You realize that you're no longer lying on the floor, but rather. . .a firm, clothed chest, which rose and fell with each breath, as you felt the thrum of heartbeats resonating in your own eardrums with each second that ticked by. Your eyes fly open at the simple realization that you were being hugged by someone, and that someone smelled like the subtle notes of lavender with a delicate undertone of citrus.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize how attractive you find this and how much your tired body seeks for the comfort his warm body provides you in the simple embrace. You want this small moment of comfort to last a bit longer, as you try to snuggle in, but the guy seems to have different plans. He yanks your fragile body away from his own, snatching away the small warmth you had, a whine building up in your throat in exhaustion.

You don't dare to open your eyes which feel as if they're burning with hot tears, but you do feel the strong gaze piercing into your skull as you feel yourself still being in his embrace, him still holding you with a single strong arm wrapped around your waist.

His unrelenting embrace felt sensitive on your skin as your muscles feel tight and sore, and you try to wriggle around a bit. Your limbs protest with pain the longer you stand on both of them, knees close to be giving up. You struggle to stay awake and not surrender to the lull of pain and tiredness which wants you to.

You don't know where you are, or how you came here, but you surely know, you can surely feel that the room, or wherever you stand is freezing cold. Suddenly, the oppressive and eerie silence was shattered by a sudden and chilling sensation.

A cold, metallic object pressed against your chin, and your eyes once again flew open with your heart racing,realizing that it was the barrel of a gun.

Your eyes can only pass away the unshed tears which had accumulated, soon finding yourself so close to a mass of silky but messy black hair, and you realize that you've been pulled back to your kidnapper’s embrace.

It felt suffocating how his alluring scent still clouded your senses, now sending them to a hayware as you take in the close proximity. You feel his grip on you tightening, his malevolent breath hot on your ear. A sinister, deep whisper slithered into your consciousness,

“Don't even think about it.”

As if you could.

Your fingers flick lightly against your heat, right above the protective skin of the sensitive pearl. Sharp gasps leave your mouth, feeling the pleasure build in your lower stomach the more you work on your delicate parts.

You were sure you were trembling on the table you were seated with your legs spread wide open, your viscous arousal dripping down to the table and making a mess on it. Would he love that it's all because of him?

Gods, if anyone enters the room without any notice of your position, the first thing they'd capture is your bare, pulsing cunt. But you were way too turned on to think straight or think about the possible consequences. Or did it rather turn you on? You didn't know.

A thin layer of sweat covers your almost nude body, your breasts heaving out with each breath and nipples begging to be touched, pebbled by the cool air and pleasure. But you're way too desperate to do that yourself- your mind screamed his name, physically unable to make any noises. Him, him, him.

“Ask no questions and be good. No harm would be done to you if you cooperate.”

His voice was laced with nonchalance, yet emerging as a sultry whisper with a slight rasp. He puts down your worn out figure to a black, slightly worn out couch, which seemed hard and dull with the appearance, yet it was more comfortable than the hard floor you had been lying on for what your spine told were hours.

You nervously squirm under his strong and unrelenting gaze, thinking that he’s implying your desire to escape from here. But much to your horror, or even delight, you are already craving the gush of the odd warmth he provided you, even if that was for a second. You gulp down your saliva, feeling your almost cracked throat ache in the process.

Your stomach churns at how wrong yet right this feels with your morals flying off the horizon, yet, a part of you asks if the ‘morals’ you were taught were actually morals, or were just ideals.

He passes you a bottle of water, sliding it towards you on the table as he keeps down the shotgun, followed by a small ‘click’ at the metal touching the wood. Your heart nearly pops up at the sight of how worn out it looks, the metal shining under the room's lighting almost looks dangerous.

The luster it holds reminds you that something as used and small could be just as dangerous regardless of how worn out it could be.

“But if you don't cooperate, this gun won't, too.”

You ought to be shivering at the tone he uses, and a part of you does. Despite the blood chilling threat, an unexpected thrill course through your exhausted veins, finding your kidnapper's dark charisma strangely alluring.

Your pupils fix on his right hand which still holds the gun. To make sure the gun wouldn't accidentally fire, he gently pushed the safety switch on the side of the gun to the "on" position.

It was a small, reassuring click that meant the gun couldn't shoot, even if he accidentally squeezed the trigger. You, or anyone else would be surprised at your knowledge about the parts of a gun but you'd rather think about your father’s ignorance of the specific part your kidnapper was cautious enough to push at the specific moment.

You were too exhausted to think that you were only eight when you first saw a similar gun lying on the coffee table, left open by no one but your father.

Your breathing is back to somewhat normal now. What actually clouds your senses is how you're obliged to agree that a man so beautiful like him, you had seldom encountered any in your limited time you were given access to freedom, back home. Yet, it surprises you that he's not some affluent multi-millionaire but a gangster or rather, a predator.

His fingers are pale and slender, with rings full on display. Following the veins of his wrist were shiny black bracelets and shell bands on top. You'd think that the color contrasts his beautiful pale skin so dramatically, if you'd stare at it enough it's gonna feel like a painting to you. Your eyes never quit checking him out silently as he sternly tells you that if you tried escaping, it won't be good for you.

From head to toe, you try to be subtle, but you cannot deny now when you'd hear your friends talk about what power the attraction towards a man holds. A small part of you wished if he could catch you checking him up, if he'd know your yearning for him.

How good would his fingers feel inside you ?

The thought alone makes your pussy gush out more arousal, your free hand toying with your hardened nipples as you moan quietly, or you try to.

You know that he would be around nearby, just to make sure you're not escaping..but you had no plans for that. You are already familiar that he's not idle enough to be camping by the cabin the whole day, and you're straight up delusional to think that the nightly visits (?) are for you.

You silently hope and pray that no one comes to rescue you sooner, because going back meant you could no longer be around him, and you'll no longer be free as you are now, as ironic that seems.

The irony intensifies because you trust him more than you trust your own father who was however on the verge to sell you off for his own benefit, for money. At times you'd wish to normally see Yoongi, not as some hostage and your abductor. So far, his men have been good, providing you food and water, and even some drinks to keep you going. You could be even proud of yourself to befriend one of them, or well, to have the goon talk to you if that is considered as befriending. They're all bark and no bite, you think, because they try a bit too hard to play even at times when you ask them for a silly stroll outside.

And if that was all, you'd happily agree to live with Yoongi. the man who seemed ice cold at the touch of eyes, but you knew he had much more for you to explore. You already know that a calm man like him gets enraged at the push of his extremes, and that leaves you pondering.

What would he actually be when his inner self is leashed out, as he pins you to the wall, hot bodies pressed against each other?

Would he bend you over the same table you're fucking yourself on?

Shit. It feels so wrong, but why does it feel so good? You're tormenting your enlarged clitoris in tight circles, feeling more and more slick drip down your hole. You cry out a silent plea, feeling the coil in your lower tummy twist harder with every flick, every touch to your delicate heat.

“Ahn..” you whimper pathetically, suddenly picturing his slender fingers working on your cunt instead of yours. His tongue which often he struck out to wet his lips..would lick your cunt lik—

Before you know it, your eyes roll back to your head, the coil in your tummy snapping into two. A loud moan of Yoongi leaves your throat, feeling your clitoris throb even harder with your orgasm. You shut your eyes close as pure waves of pleasure hit you in the form of white, pleasure so intense that you're seeing dots in your vision. You've never come so hard before like this, feeling your hole clench helplessly around nothing.

You cease your moments when you feel yourself jerk with overstimulation at a certain flick and you know it's time to stop.

Shame washes over you as you straighten up your back to a better position.

Fuck.

Yoongi was confused.

Or a bit concerned, even. It was nearly midnight when he was passing beside your cabin, already sure of you being well looked after. It was a small whimper which caught his notice and in the very first place it took him aback. He wondered what happened.

Though he had the most trusted men working under him, no one could ever know anything until something really happened. You can't risk anything. Worry itching in his veins, he advanced forward to the closed window of your cabin and listened closely. A string of profanities was all that he could hear, causing him to furrow his brows. Were you in pain ?

You weren't the target looked out for, merely just a bait. He did not want you to suffer, even if he knows that his men couldn't understand it at first when they bought you here. Even if he knows that he can’t explain it to you, he silently hopes that his further behavior could do that.

This was the reason why he immediately opened the door and the sight in front of him made his throat dry.

His eyes widened so slightly to see you spread out nude like an eagle on the table, your small hand pinching your erect nipples. Your head was lolled back and mouth hung open, occasionally the sweetest moans leaving your parted lips. his pupils shook violently to avoid travelling south and what he should absolutely not see. You were so desperately trying to get off, and he knew he should exit right away.

Fuck. He was definitely not a creep. Heat creeped up to his neck and cheeks at the realization and he turned back to leave.

Yoongi.

His name. You moaned his name and that upon reaching his ears, he needed to think. twice, thrice. With his head. the one on his neck, not with the one inside his pants, which twitched awake to life. He felt his heartbeat resonating in his own ears, and that left him feeling a single thing. Needy. He gulped, feeling his stomach churn with arousal and at the same time a gut feeling of this being wrong, and he couldn't think straight.

You let out a high pitched screech of his name with a strong of fuckfuckfuck, and he knew that you had already reached your orgasm. His cock now strained hard against the material of his pants, and Yoongi has to fight back a guttural groan from breaking free.

“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought.”

You freeze, your breathing labored as you recognise the voice. Fucking fuck. Blood reaches upto your cheeks as you peer up slightly with shock and embarrassment, shame doubling over inside you. You see him, Yoongi manspreading on the old couch opposite to you with a nasty smirk painted on his handsome features.

Had he been watching you?

You blink, feeling your whole body burn with embarrassment. You'd realize that if he did, he heard you doing sinful things to yourself while moaning his name. You were supposed to be scared of him, he even once held you at gunpoint, but you're not even a tad bit scared of him.

You feel oddly safe with him, around him, even if you're sitting naked and vulnerable infront of him. Maybe it's a bad idea to be so comfortable. He's not as crazy as you. How embarrassing, you consciously and immediately shut your legs close, shrinking under his strong gaze, cheeks warm and throat dry.

You gulp in nervousness, his expressions remain stoic but his eyes shine with amusement. You feel a bit too self conscious now, hoping to find your shirt where you last left it. But your eyes betray you, vision trailing down to his hands, clad with fingerless gloves which rests at his meaty, thick thighs clad with black leather pants. His manspreading has you gazing directly on his crotch area, and fucking hell.

He's girthy.

His hard-on does tell you that maybe he's been looking at you for quite a long time..

Your face heats up more if possible as your eyes succumb up to his face, an open mouthed, cocky smirk evident in his features. He cocks a brow at you, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I’ll take it that you like what you see.”

Fuck. Fuck.

You did. You really did, and much to your horror you feel your clit throb with arousal once again.

“What if it was someone else other than me who heard you? Did you really like putting up a show like that ? ”

a deep chuckle left his throat, his voice much deeper than you've heard it to be. Or maybe you're just hallucinating.

“ tsk, tsk tsk. moaning my name so loudly in the middle of the night. Are you so okay with your moans waking everyone up, kitten?”

Fuck. Your hole pulses with arousal at his words and you're unable to answer him. Kitten. The nickname makes your insides go jelly, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

Yet, just sitting up properly and lowering your head is all that you can do, biting down on your bottom lip. You're inappropriately horny for him, and the shameless arousal which spikes inside you knowing that he's just as aroused like you makes you dizzy. If you're being honest, you can't care about anyone else when he's around. You blame it on the bubbling lust inside you.

He can be intimidating, he is intimidating, but for sure no one has made you feel this safer than he does, ironically being your kidnapper. You feel cozy inside a cabin rather than the luxurious bungalow you've spent your whole life till now in.

You're crazy, because maybe a wrong move from your side and you'll lie lifeless on this same floor with no one to give a fuck. That's how it usually works.

Yet, you want to take the risk. You do want to fall prey to the predator.

Suddenly, you feel a harsh tug at your chin, your cheeks squished together and your lips painfully rounded to a pout. You feel the leather of the glove of his palm directly in contact with your chin, cradling your face. Your shaking eyes meet his own, calm but burning eyes, and he almost lets out a growl. a guttural growl that almost has you feeling fresh arousal heat up your pussy.

“Speak when you're being spoken to. "

His face is so close to your own that it almost feels heaven to see him this close. His black hair is no longer slicked back, but now open and it parts beautifully on his forehead, long enough to reach his nape. His thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and wooden brown eyes were darker than you'd have seen them. They're blown out, the dim lighting of the room merging the brown of his iris to the black of his pupil into a whole dark mass.

You're so close that if you could, you could count the number of pores on his flawless, pale skin, which always seemed like no expensive skincare could afford such a glow. Even in a situation like this, it almost makes you feel as if you're bound under his spell, a spell which has your body going lax and sanity leaving you in an instant.

His grip on you is firm, but not harsh. He makes sure it's not too much. but however it makes him feel slightly different, slightly more confused to see nothing but admiration in your own blown out eyes and it makes him frown.

Why would you look at him with such a gaze? He's not dumb. He knows that look. With his free hand he brings his fingers close to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, frowning with his lips sealed tightly. Almost hiding a groan inside his throat, he chastises,

“I don't think you understand that I can kill you anytime with the same hands which you seem to be very fond of.”

It's a subtle warning he tries to jeer. He knew as much as he wanted this, you wanted this more. But after this would be done, things maybe won't be the same.

He got no response back, which silently pissed him more. He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to confirm that it's not a delusion. He wanted you to say it out loud. He didn't know if feeling this way towards your hostage could be rational, but lust can make you feel a lot— and he didn't know if this was right.

Squeezing your cheeks a bit more harsher this time, his right hand traveled down slowly, tracing an invisible path on your skin, leaving sparks of desire behind its wake. You feel your pussy ache with need, nipples pebble up and you nearly stifle a whimper.

His hand reaches for your knee, in such a soothing manner, prying it open that so are your legs. But it doesn't advance any further. It just rests on your heated, damp flesh, almost as if hesitant to move forward.

Your face heats up when you feel his touch ignite a passion in you and you feel a gush of your arousal trickle down your thighs. Fuck, you honestly did not expect that the touch of the cool leather could burn your skin to hell. Given that the hand belongs to Yoongi, you’re nearly gone. You're forced to look at him directly as he's still holding your face and his gaze is no longer icy.

They hold a certain glint you assume as softness, the ridges of his eyebrows no longer tight. Yet his feline gaze remains so firm that it has you feeling your heart course a foreign sensation that you could grasp as....shyness. Slowly, you feel just his fingertips on your knee run forward to the flesh of your inner thighs, testing you. Teasing you.

You're going to go insane.

“Pweash..” a whine escapes your puckered lips even before you know it. He only seems subtly pleased, opting to gently stroke the flesh of your inner thighs. Gods, the touch of leather. Did he really have to do this? Your hole clenches helplessly, having him toy with you so close to where you need him the most.

“What was that?” he lets go of his hand cradling your face, and suddenly snakes his arm to your nude waist and pulls you close. So close that you'd look at him, your noses will touch. Close enough to feel his breath fanning on your cheeks, close enough to have his fingers toying with your thighs dance near the skin of your dripping heat. Close enough to have your bare chest press against his own clothed one.

You huff slightly, both in slight ache in your cheek muscles and frustration of how smug he is.

“ Please, Yoongi.. ”

The smugness in his face disappears and the arm on your waist tightens. Yet, he makes no move to inch forward towards your aching center, and you're really lured to push your hips down to his hands, for anything. To relieve the ache. You don't know what he's thinking right now, but the seriousness on his face— laced with that deep voice of his — is a huge turn on for you, and you're shameless to admit it.

“Do you realize how dangerous this is?You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of,” his voice is oddly cold as his gaze remains fixed on your own. His voice sounds. . . uncertain, somehow, but not hesitant.

“Do you not want this?” you ask him, your voice small as you suddenly realize that the cabin is beginning to get colder and colder. His head drops down, his hold on you slightly wavering, but nevertheless still there— and he shakes his head. Almost as if he's trying to convince himself about his own inner questions. As if he's denying them all.

“I don't fuck around with people I'm not supposed to fuck around with.” his voice is laced with a questioning tone, you notice, and his fingers resting on your inner thighs twitch. “You. . . you're just being used as bait.”

“I know.��� you ache to cradle his face in your hands, but then you realize that it maybe is a bit more intimate than you'd think. He looks dejected at you knowing the information, about the possibility that maybe your own father won't spare your life. Now or later, it's perhaps inevitable that he'd suspect you being not liable enough about his family business secrets, and he'd get a way out. To have you removed from his path.

“Why. . .?”

His expressions morph to one of despair, and his eyebrows furrow. He was so fucking confused that why'd he be so affected by something as common as that. He knows it's not something odd for patriarchal leaders killing members of their own families just for the sake of their business— he has seen a lot of them through the course of years. And what hit him in the chest was how casual you were about it— almost as if you were aware of your family’s intention all along.

He did not know why whatever he felt inside his chest for you was oddly soft, something he strictly banished himself to feel. He could not. He had no room for softness inside him. no fucking way. He tried ignoring it, but as days turned to weeks, he knew that he subconsciously broke his own rule.

“What why?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“Why are you so cool about it?”

“It is what it is.”

“You don't reali—”

“I fucking do. I fucking want you, Min Yoongi. I fucking want to stay with you. Please.” his eyes widen and you see his pupils shake and the gears inside his brain rotate.

“I do realize that you've never ever taken the responsibility of a person on your own shoulders. Your team is capable enough to take care of themselves, and you perhaps are thinking that I,” He sighs at your words, shaking his head and pressing his lips to a straight line in a grimace.

He's considering everything, not because of you or him, but for both of you. For the future.

Your thumb caressed the subtle hints of a stubble on his chin, no longer feeling the pull to stay quiet. Not when you've finally got the chance to be. “...that I possibly can't do that,”

“Even if you do, you must know that there's no going back. No looking bac—”

“No looking back, Yoongi. I got it.”

You bring forward your hands to cup his warm cheeks within your palms. His eyes widen and his mouth parts slightly, and you'd almost think it to be impossible for a dangerous, intimidating gangster like him to be so adorable. Your hands travel to his nape, where the silver jewelry rests, carefully running your fingers on the edgy metal patterns.

Your face falls at the silence and the stoic countenance you're met with.

The way his heart thumped inside his chest at your words was enough of an evidence to him, but he knew it could be just another dangerous game. He has never been with any woman he's kept hostage over the years— and he'd thought it wouldn't be his first time.

He wants to believe you— he wants to believe the honesty and innocence reflected in your eyes, but there's that part of his brain which has learnt the harder way. Yoongi knows that a single mistake and his whole group would be hustled to the blazes of the vermillion.

“Why are you doing this?” his eyes bore into your own, two pools of endless obsidian, threatening to shallow you in the mysterious depths of them.

His hand near your thigh caresses further your neglected heat, and you jolt at the sudden touch. His face inches closer to you, once again, so daringly close that once again you can make out how fierce his eyes seem right now. His warm breath falls on your now sweat dried skin near your cheeks, and there's a spike in your heartbeat.

He expects an answer, you know that he's not going to say that out loud, and the leather of his glove on the skin of your thigh feels rather soft. Your gulp down a mouthful of air, preparing to say something out loud which you haven't ever.

“It's because I. . . I want to live. I want to be set free.”

“Hnngh!!”

Some few moments ago, you were almost lured into thinking that you'll call it a night.

You felt like the gangster mode was switched off after your conversation, but he'd warned you that the conversation wasn't over yet. You'd breathed down a sigh of half relief and half wonder, pondering over how an act like. . .such, escalated to something you'd craved for. Embarrassment to confession.

But when his gloved pointer brushed the innermost skin of your thigh, your eyes widened as wide as saucers, looking up to him, who already had an open mouthed smirk painted on his face, almost as if he's amused.

“So how do you want me to fuck you?”

His crude words had a fresh wave of arousal pulsing out of you, and you'd gasped silently, accidentally batting your lashes at him. He'd groaned out loud, once again grabbing your face and pulling you close till his soft lips brushed over your own parted ones.

“Wasn’t that what you actually wanted, princess? Me to fuck you dumb?” you should've known that he indeed had a dirty mouth, but estimating how much it made your cunt throb and gush, you'd known that you didn't want him to stop. You'd moaned at his words, silently nodding furiously like a pathetic bitch.

“Did I or did I not tell you to speak when you're spoken to?” he'd growled right at your face, an arm snaking around your waist once again. His eyes had trailed down to your exposed breasts, and the hand on your waist had trailed closer to the swell of your boob. He'd licked his lips at the sight, but made no further move which had you squirming for his touch.

“Please Yoongi, please touch me. .”

A pleased smile had taken over his features at your pleas.

“Flashing these tits right on my face and then asking me nicely. Who am I to deny? Whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

And with that, he'd dipped down to your breasts, your back immediately arching up to his greedy mouth where he'd toyed with your hard nips till your breasts were spotted with blooming purple marks.

But right now, your throat already feels dry crying out his name repeatedly as you can only see the dark mass of raven hair peeking in between your thighs, tickling you over and over as his skilled mouth brings you closer and closer to a blinding climax.

Your eyes are glossy and your nipples hurt as how erect they are, but you cannot do anything about it. Your arms are restrained with the leather of Yoongi’s belt digging into your flesh, and the slight pain intensifies the sparks of pleasure traveling up your body from down your cunt.

You squirm with a muffled whine, eyes burning with tears at how many times your already sensitive cunt was brought closer to a teeth clashing orgasm, only to have it denied by him. He'd raise his head to look up at you, his lips shiny with spit and your arousal, absolutely smug about how his tongue alone has you fucked up completely. His gloved hands would stroke the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, gently bringing them closer to your sensitive clitoris.

His thumb would gently circle around the protective skin covering your nub and you'd muffle a needy moan, unable to speak because you'd riled him up so bad, he had to shove your panties down your mouth with a growl and a promise that when he's done with you, you won't be even able to hobble well.

Fuck, you were shameless to admit that him being in charge and asking you each time whether the belt hurt you, or did you really like that, made your pussy gush out more and more for him to devour it all up.

His tongue flicks right on the top of your clit, and your back arches like the nth time off the table at how light headed the pleasure is making you feel. You feel like combusting , but also, not quite yet with how his touches are intense but gentle. You're now on the edge to burst out to the sea of such a delicious torture of bliss— and you'd do anything for him to do it for you.

You grind your hips right on his face as his tongue laps down your arousal, sucking gently on your soaked folds as you feel your thighs shake with the little leeway he gives you. His nose nudges your clit and you shiver. His nose bumps against your flesh again, he's doing it exactly on purpose to have you writhing underneath him.

His face is flushed— hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and how dark his pupils are, you know that he's just as fucked as you are.

“This cunt is,” a lick to your soaked folds, the wet muscle nudging them open to dive in further, “fucking divine.” and he fucks his tongue right in, the vibration of his voice quivering through your body.

With a broken whine, you try to gyrate your hips to chase the immense euphoria he's bringing you, feeling your walls clench around his wet muscle. He fucks his tongue in a vicious manner, curling it up to touch the tips of your walls and fucking it back out; all whilst the plane of his nose rubs against your poor, tender clit with each commotion.

His tongue stills after he feels you grind against his face with a rough fervor and your velvety walls pulsate around his tongue. You whine at the loss of momentum, already having your peak being snatched away from you, once again.

His lips suck around your nether ones for a last, long caress and then parts away ; licking up his lips coated in your arousal and his spit, some of which dribbles down his chin. He's quick to collect them all using his fingers and hover over your figure; some of his dainty chains are long enough to brush over your bare clavicles, dangling over you.

His black shirt sticks to his body and you can almost figure out the planes of his body. It's completely unfair, you being completely naked and him being completely clothed. He seems to like the way you wiggle your hips underneath him, looking up at him with eyes you think you weren't capable of batting much.

Because he smirks at your fucked up, desparate expression and pushes away the long, sweaty strands of raven falling from his head to the side with his clean hands, and brings his soiled fingers to your lips.

“Taste yourself,” his voice has a rasp and you comply, opening up, only to have him push two of his fingers inside your warm cavern, having your panties dragged out. The material of the smooth leather with the viscous arousal wrapped around his slender fingers sits heavy on your tastebuds, and you immediately swirl your tongue to savor it more.

He groans, and immediately withdraws his fingers, now clean. His breathing is erratic as he leans down to steal a quick kiss from you, and you whine when you feel him pull away. He says nothing, but just whispers words of praise in your ears, mindful of your restraints. Your arms feel numb to move by the time he gently unbuckles the belt around your wrist, and he catches you off guard once again when he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue sneaking in between your gasps and tangling with yours.

Your heart beats erratically in your chest when he parts away from you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Gonna finger you now,” his voice is brisk with a pant at the end. His neck is flushed red, glistening with sweat with a slight pant. “Princess deserves the best of the night. Not just some fondling.”

Your face feels warm as you catch onto what he's referring to.

Once again, you find yourself laying down with a throb in your cunt, and him kneeling in between your spread legs to pepper soft kisses on the now dried, slightly damp thighs. When his tongue flickers on the sensitive skin, you jolt and struggle to get up on your elbows, because as much as you're enjoying this, it's a torture that he did not allow you to come at all.

Your cunt pulses and aches for him, but he seems to take his sweet time; softly passing his hands to stroke your flesh and mark them.

When a singular finger strokes the length of your soaked slit, your mouth falls open in a gasp. The leather of his gloves add to the friction as he drags his fingers in an up and down motion, spreading your arousal around. Yoongi is so keen on observing your cunt closely, and there's a desire inside you to tuck away the long, stray strand of his hair back. You're already inching your hand forward when his dark eyes snap up to yours, stopping you in your moments.

You don't even have the time to withdraw your hands when a pair of strong arms curl on the underside of your thighs and pull you forward, licking a stripe right above where his fingers are nested; and in no time you feel the plane of his tongue attacking your poor nub with kitten licks.

“God,” you gasp out loud, trashing your arms around to find any leverage as you fall flat on the table. Your fingers can only claw the edge of the table as his tongue passes over the slick of your skit with each lick, and the air is punched out of lungs the moment you feel two of his digits enter your slit with ease.

You feel his chuckle vibrate against you which goes straight to your clit. “No God will hear you out, doll.”

Fuck. Fuck. You can only arch your back in a broken moan of his name when you feel his fingers move inside of you, not yet thrusting, but curling up. It burns a bit, but the heady bliss is already making your head spin with the added slight pain. He raises his head up to see how fucked you already look, and he knows that all the edging has brought you so close already that he can feel your tight walls tighten impossibly tight around his fingers.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants, begging for attention when he notices your slick trickling down the material of his glove, right in between the joints of his fingers as he stays still.

“M-move, you can move..” the end of your sentence ends up in a whine as his fingers curl forward in full force, immediately finding the spongy area which has lights bursting behind your eyelids. He soons picks up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt in a swift motion which has you gasping for his name.

The soft jagged edges of his glove brushes the walls of your pussy with each pump, and you've never ever felt so good during fingering without any clitoris stimulation. You'd tried that a few times, only to have you grumbling because of your much smaller digits and a need to have something more. And he's right there. Yoongi’s fingers, much thicker and longer than your own ones, feel delirious inside you.

“You’re so tight, princess,” Yoongi groans when he feels you tighten around him with each thrust, pushing you down to your impending orgasm with each pump, with each caress.

Your veins feel like they're on fire, your nipples aching to be touched, and so you do. Pulling them taut between your nimble fingers, your back bows off the table when Yoongi lunches down to close his pretty lips around your neglected clit. Oh fuck. . . ! That feels so fucking amazing, and you're sure you feel his fingers abuse that spot inside of you simultaneously, all while giving his attention to your burning flesh. You're so fucking close that you can taste your orgasm, and there's a slight rush thinking if he'd egde you this time too.

Your eyes shut close the moment his fingers go knuckles inside for a thrust and curls, and at once his lips suction around your clit, hard.

You're seeing Heaven.

You scream out when your orgasm washes over you, intensified with each you were denied off. Your back feels like it flew off the table as your orgasm dawn's down on you like an avalanche, sliding off all around your body in red hot euphoria as Yoongi’s speedy ministrations don't cease. You miss how audibly he moans out loud when a particular thrust inside your cunt has a gush of clear liquid squirting out, his mouth never leaving your now fully erect clit.

His tongue swirls around and sucks, while his fingers stroke the spot inside you. And this time when your hips gyrate up in full force to his face and he hears another scream of his name and a choking resistance to his fingers inside you, he knows that he's fulfilled his goal.

Your orgasm seems to hit you over and over, and over. Your abdominal muscles are dense by the time you feel yourself twitch with the aftershocks of your release, and dear fucking god. You've never come this hard in your life before, and you do know that the man between your legs is the reason.

You hoist yourself up to yourself up to your elbows to look at him who's half hovering over you, but oh god.

He's drenched.

His lower face glistens with moisture and his t-shirt looks like someone just shot him with a water gun, the damp material forming quite a big wet spot right below his collar. He's wide eyed, smirking with a breathy laugh which makes you want to curl up. Fucking hell. No wonder why your orgasm felt so blinding, and you can still feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently stroking your thighs with soft passes.

Oh god, you just squirted.

Yoongi made you squirt. Was that way too much? You don't even know! But for Yoongi, he's smiling as everything to him is riveting, of course.

You're about to hide your face in your palms when Yoongi stops you. His gloves felt damp on your skin, and when you peel your eyes open, he's so dangerously close. So close which makes your head spin and heart race, once again.

“That’s what a real orgasm is, princess. Don't be ashamed.” He helps you get up the table, your legs feeling like fresh pudding and thighs burning. He can only snort in amusement, when you pout at him. What's so funny?

“It was hot as fuck.”

“What?” face warm, you try to cover yourself to which Yoongi lazily raises a brow. He just points a finger to your parted legs. He. . .!

“You. Squirting. It was hot as fuck. Plus the screams were like cherry on the top,” he shrugs, almost as if he didn't fucking wreck you with just his skilled tongue and fingers. Your face burns up at how casually he says that, and before you can think, you blurt out, “You think so?”

“Mm.”

It's your turn to raise a brow. You don't feel scared of him anymore, not even when the post nut clarity is hitting you. You know what you two did, and there's no going back. You feel rather at ease with how he holds one of your palms and slings an arm around your waist to haul you down the table, and you know that this is your chance.

You drop down to your knees.

And now it's him who's wide eyed. His clothed erection stands right in front of your face, almost as if struggling to get out of the hard confines of his jeans. The dent looks promising in size, and you nearly poke out your tongue to give it a lick, but you refrain. You hear him inhale a sharp breath, his hand already coming down to your shoulder to hoist you up, but you swat his hands away.

“What. . .what are you doing?” his voice comes out in a slightly surprised tone, the rasp of it already making you impatient. How could he not pay attention to himself when he's himself so fucking hard? Your hands slowly grab his meaty thighs over his denims which tense under your touch. You lick your lips, purposefully batting your eyelashes when you peer up at him, trying to look as small as you can.

Trying to make him as good as he made you feel, but you doubt your inexperienced ass could do that.

“Can’t you see? Returning your favor.”

He looks torn. The crease in between his eyebrows tell that he's hesitant for this, and he doesn't like that bratty tone you'd just used. But the parted lips imparting short breaths tell otherwise. His reply comes rather quickly, “You don't have to.”

You were sure to be hallucinating, but you could see a small twitch to his length, and you immediately felt your nether gates flooding. Oh god. You must return the favour, then.

“I want to, Yoongi, would you let me, please?”

Completely naked, batting eyelashes, pretty face and tempting view of boobs. Nimble fingers tracing the pathway of his thighs, dangerously close to his aching cock. He did want you, but. . . fuck. . ! And not to deny the image he gets of you kneeling down in front of him, your toes facing outwards and ass purposefully wiggling out, Yoongi knows he's about to bust a nut. And that too, very soon.

Who the fuck is he to deny, then.

“Since you begged for it,” his hands reach to tuck a stray hair out of your beautiful face, feeling his abdominal muscles clench when your fingers brush against his length, he smiles with a shaky exhale.

“Go ahead and take what's yours.”

a/n : soo~ what do we think? 🤒

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[alexlwrites]

from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

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