#agust d fluff

[cheeseceli]

Suga who has so many late night talks with you that you guys end up falling asleep together. After a while he started putting pillows and blankets in the sofa just in case one (or both) of you end up sleeping

#yeah that's a bts post #i need to write more about them fr fr #celi soft thoughts #bts soft thoughts #bts imagines #bts #suga #suga x reader #suga x y/n #bts fluff #suga fluff #agust d #agust d fluff #agust d x reader #bts soft hours #yoongi #yoongi x fluff #yoongi x reader

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

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

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

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

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

#yoongi #min yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts min suga #yoongi x oc #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x you #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi au #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi scenarios #bts imagine #yoongi imagine #bts smut #bts x fem!reader

[atinystraynstay]

Soft Spot - Min Yoongi

Synopsis: Yoongi closed himself to most of the world. He didn't want to risk anyone hurting him or the people that mean the most to him. That was until you came along, somehow having the golden key to his heart.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

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Yoongi had spent over 30 minutes at the florist. His eyes bounced between all the different flowers, unsure what would be the best one to present to you. You would think that since Yoongi produces music, he felt a constant pressure for the next song to do better than the last.

However, his biggest worry was trying to impress you.

To him, not enough words could describe you. He has attempted to write at least one song to showcase his adoration for you. Yet, nothing seemed to fit. He could easily describe you as perfection. You were the one person who balanced him out amongst the chaos. The songs he produced with you in mind just didn't do you justice.

"Hyung, you ever going to make a selection?" Taehyung teased for him.

A sharp puff of air left Yoongi. He thought asking Taehyung to help him was the best idea, but he was starting to regret it.

"Would you shut up?" Yoongi murmured.

Taehyung went into a fit of chuckles before putting his hands up in defense. Seriously, he was here to provide insight?

Of course, Yoongi had an idea of the right ways to treat someone. He has experienced short flames of love in the past. But nothing like what you two had. It admittedly scared Yoongi at the intensity of emotions he felt within himself. He didn't mean to push people away, but he just often put all those emotions toward his career before another person. BTS counted on him to produce songs, to be a strong older brother. He didn't put another put through the wringer just because of his intense career.

But then he met you.

It started off innocent at first. You two just happened to bump into each other at the convenience store. He had been locked up at the studio, trying to lay tracks down for a new song when he needed a break. He figured going for a walk and grabbing an energy drink would help relax him.

Similarly, you had been crammed in your university's library working on a research paper. You were in the last semester of your graduate program, a step closer to becoming a Social Worker. Your fingers were starting to ache and you felt a bit restless after sitting at a work table. You decided you needed fresh air and an iced coffee before going to attempt to edit the paper.

You two had bumped into each other. Fatigue was written all over your faces that you hadn't noticed each other. That was until you bumped in as you tried to go to the register.

Seeing how tired you were, but also how beautiful you looked, Yoongi offered to pay for your beverage. When you tried to politely decline, he insisted after being in your way. Even though you were the one not watching where you were going.

As a way to show appreciation, you offered to give him your number. That way, you could repay him with a drink of his choosing whenever he wanted.

Since then, you two have been attached. Text messages were exchanged which then became FaceTime calls, particularly late at night due to both of your schedules. FaceTime calls quickly grew tiresome because all Yoongi wanted was to be in the same room as you, so you two began to hang out.

While Yoongi has not officially asked you to be his exclusively, he knew he wanted to be with you. You two practically saw each other twice a week. In his mind, you two were together.

That was until Taehyung pointed out that he hasn't actually asked you to be his, that you could be under the impression you two were just friends. Yoongi was doubtful, but his younger brother had a point. What if you saw him as only a friend? What if you were actually seeing someone else?

The thoughts made Yoongi both anxious but motivated to do something about it. Cue Taehyung coming in to help. Taehyung knew how to be romantic. He offered insight without Yoongi overthinking it.

"I'm telling you. She won't really care about the exact flowers. Just that you got them for her." "But they have to be perfect for her."

It brought Taehyung amusement to see how smitten his hyung was. Actually, all the boys were invested in Yoongi's love life. For the 10 years that they've known him, this was the first time that he was choosing something for himself rather than for other people. They all adored how dedicated Yoongi was to them and the group, but they always wanted Yoongi to be happy in all aspects of life. Including romantic.

They ever knew someone could be so happy over receiving a text message. At least, that was the case until they saw him grinning in his studio as he spun gently back and forth. He would re-read your texts to him, his smile getting wider and wider.

Or the way he thinks of you had random points. Having ramen for dinner? You like ramen. He would wonder if you had eaten, if you were happy, if you had a good day. See a squirrel while on a stroll? You were so energetic, so busy. What were you up to? Should he call you?

You were always on his mind. You meant everything to him and so much more.

It was why when he stood in front of your apartment door, his heart was racing. Yoongi was convinced that his heart was going to leap right out of his chest at this rate. He was practically shaking.

He sucked in a deep breath, looking down at the bouquet of flowers. Roses felt too intense for the occasion. He had selected an arrangement of blue hydrangea, blue delphinium, and white button poms. They reminded Yoongi of a clear, warm day and you were the sun. They were tied together by a pink bow, subtle but perfect.

Here goes nothing.

With his left hand firmly holding onto the stems of the bouquet, his right hand reached forward to ring the doorbell of your unit. It was a late Sunday morning. Sundays were your day to relax, to do self-care. He hoped he wasn't introducing, but he knew you'd be home.

From the other side of the black-painted door, he could hear shuffling. His heart fluttered knowing you were indeed inside. And about to open the door.

Did he get the right bouquet? Did you even like flowers? Should have have gotten a bigger bouquet for you?

He didn't have enough time to go through every scenario as soon the door opened. There you were. His angel.

Your hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with little strands framing your face. You wore a pair of black shorts but a large, oversized sweatshirt. All he wanted to do then was wrap you up in his arms and cuddle you. God, he was down bad.

You had a warm on your face, but quickly your eyes widened to see the flowers in his hand. You couldn't but hope they were for you, but you were convinced you and Yoongi were just friends. He was too kind to you to be anything more than that.

"Hi y/n," he said softly.

His voice sent your heart into palpitations. Nobody else sent you into such a spiral unlike he did so easily. It was just him greeting you but your knees were like jelly.

"Hi Yoongs," you spoke just as softly.

Yoongs. You were the only person who called him that. And he prayed you would be the only.

"What's going on? I figured you might be asleep still since you were at the studio until late." "Nothing can stop me from seeing you. I had a very important erran to run."

He was trying his best not to become a stuttering mess. But the way you were looking at him? The way you had a soft gaze yet lured him in, he was bound to crumble.

"These are for you, beautiful. Saw them and I thought of you."

Your cheeks turned bright pink. You were at a loss for words, and Yoongi noticed. He couldn't help but feel his ego rise. Maybe all the guys were right after all? Maybe you did like him?

He only got this confidence when he had a little bit of whiskey in his system. This was different, though. He didn't have liquid courage to fuel his delusions. He was stone-cold sober to see how you reacted to him. While non-verbal, your body language says everything.

"Oh Yoongi, they are so beautiful. You didn't have to do this." You took the flowers into your own hands to admire them up close. It warmed Yoongi's heart to see the way you took in their beauty, even though they weren't as beautiful as you are. He hoped you were seeing yourself just as positively, but he was ready to remind you constantly if need be.

"And I know what you're about to say." He began. "If you feel guilty for me spoiling you, why don't you accompany me for brunch? Going on an official date would make me happier than you buying me something."

Your head had never snapped up as quickly. Did you hear him correctly? Was he asking you out on a date? There was no room for interpretation when he said the words himself, but you weren't sure if you heard him correctly.

"Wait, you are actually asking me out?" "Well yeah, y/n. Isn't it obvious I like you?"

You opened your mouth to counter his statement, still in disbelief. However, you quickly closed it. Come on, y/n. Don't hesitate. You're so close to getting what you've always wanted.

"Can you give me 20 minutes to get ready and place these in water?" You asked. "Take all the time you need, angel. I'll be downstairs in my car, making sure it's all warm for you."

Feeling bold, Yoongi leaned into to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. "I've got nowhere else I'd want to be than spending time with you." Shivers ran down your spine from his tone and the way his words practically vibrated throughout your body.

He pulled back and winked before going towards the elevator. You gently closed the door before rushing to get ready.

Dreams can come true.

#min yoongi #bangtan #suga bts #yoongi #agust d #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #suga #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #bts imagines #bts army #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts scenarios #bts suga #min yoogni #suga x reader #suga bangtan #suga x you #suga x y/n #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi fanfiction #atinystraynstay #kpop #fanfic #bts #bangtan sonyeondan

[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg - 001

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 4.2K

You tossed and turned in your bed as the obnoxious sound of banging carries through your apartment. You snatch your pillow from under your head, placing it over your ears in hopes to drown out the sound. Sadly, it helped very little. “Ugh!” You groan, tossing the pillow to the floor in frustration. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” You shout. The banging abruptly stops, and you sigh in contentment. 

Just as you were prepared to close your eyes again, your phone started to ring. You let out a loud whine, deciding to give up on slumber at this point. Looks like resting wasn’t in your favor. You grab your phone from your nightstand, the screen flashing your best friend, Mina’s, contact name. You accept the call, only to be ear assaulted by her shouting from the other side.  “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” 

You pull the phone from your ear, cringing as though she had burst your eardrums. You don’t even dignify her with a response before you end the call. Of course Mina would be the one banging on your door like she’s being chased by a masked killer. 

You swing your legs over your mattress, sliding on your house slippers that you kept on standby beside your bed. Purposely procrastinating, you take your delicate time, trying to stretch away your exhaustion. You saunter towards your living room, making no effort to rush and open the door. Mina begins to impatiently bang on the door again. “I’m coming! Geez!” You unlock your door, pulling it open to expose your displeased friend. “Took you long enough.” She simply walks past you, entering your abode without your permission. 

You shut your door, looking back at Mina as she takes a seat at your dining table. “What was so important that you had to drive to my place and bang on my door like a lunatic?” You questioned the blonde. She squints her eyes, her mouth dropping in disbelief. “Did you forget we were supposed to go out for lunch today?” She crosses her arms. 

“Of course I didn’t forget,” you say, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “I thought we were doing that at like 2:00?” 

Mina raises a brow at you. “Um… newsflash, it’s 1:50 right now.”  

Your eyes widened. There was no way it was already the evening time. You felt like you had just dozed off in bed not too long ago. You check for the time on your microwave for clarity, pouting when you realize she wasn’t telling a story. “Fuck…” you rub your cheeks with the palm of your hands. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I overslept.” 

“It’s fine,” she shrugs. “It’s not too late to still go.” 

The two of you weren’t going anywhere exotic for lunch. Just going out for ramen at Makoto. You worked there as a server, so you got a discount on food. Why not take the advantage? Especially since you didn’t make enough money to eat anywhere else, and you’d hate for Mina to have to pay for both of your meals.  “What has you so tired anyway?” She asks, pretending like she couldn’t get a clue. “Like you don’t know.” You roll your eyes. 

“Ooooh,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Did you finally give Kookie the cookie?” 

You giggled, shaking your head. You wished that’s how the night went. Although,  you still enjoyed yourself because any moment spent with Jungkook was still time well spent. “No, not yet. He hasn’t pursued anything, so I don’t think he’s ready.” You rest your chin into the palm of your hand. “What the hell is he waiting for? Your wedding day?” She turns up her nose. 

“I think he’s waiting until we make our relationship official. We’re still just at the talking stage.” 

You’ve known Jungkook since high school. He started off as your best friend, next to Mina. He was always there for you, lending you a shoulder to cry on when you were going through a breakup, or listening to you vent. Never did you look at him as a potential romantic partner, or at least, never have you said it out loud. You two didn’t admit your feelings for each other until 3 months ago; now you were trying to see where it goes, and so far it’s been everything you’ve hoped for. Except for the lack of sex, which surprises you to care so much about considering you’ve never had sex with anyone before. Yet, you’ve craved it so much recently. 

“Well, he better make things official soon because there is nothing better than sex.” she bit down on her bottom lip, practically drooling as she reminisced about her sexual conquests with her boyfriend, Jin. “Yeah, I bet.” You chuckle. “Don’t get any slob on my table, whore.” You stand up from your seat, figuring that you’ve wasted enough of your lunch time sleeping as it is. You didn’t want to waste anymore of it by gossiping about sex. 

You head back to your bedroom, pulling open your wardrobe as you search for something to throw on. Mina follows behind you, plopping down in your bed with a light bounce. “So, is Kookie coming over again tonight?”

“Probably not,” you flip through your clothes like a photo album, taking hangers from the bars to see what looked good on you. “I have work tomorrow, and I cannot risk waking up late again.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of being late for work like most folks did. It was hard enough for you to find good paying work since you didn’t finish nursing school like Mina. You want to go back, but you didn’t have the funds to pay for college, and your apartment at the same time. You only made like $15/hr working at Makoto, and your checks from that went to your rent, and other bills. You couldn’t even afford a car. You had to take the bus to travel. 

You finalize your outfit choice, going with a mini floral print spaghetti strap dress. “How’re things going with Jin?” You query, undressing yourself before you slip on the red dress. “We’re pretty good, except I feel like he’s hiding something from me. He’s been really anxious lately, but when I ask him about it he says he’s fine,” she shrugs. “I’m trying not to overthink it. Maybe he has a lot on his plate with work and everything. He hasn’t been making any sales in real estate, and is afraid he might be jobless soon.” 

“Yikes,” you walk into your bathroom to brush your teeth. “That must be tough on him.” You grab your toothbrush from its holder, taking the tube of toothpaste and squeezing it onto the bristles.  “Yeah.” She sighs. You felt for your best friend. Nothing sucks more than watching your significant other go through a rough time, but for Mina it was much worse because she absolutely loved and adored Jin. 

You spit and rinsed in the sink, washing your toothbrush off before placing it back in the holder. While the water was still running, you took the opportunity to splash your face with the cooling liquid, making sure to clean away the crust from your eyes. Once you turn off the faucet, you grab a towel from the rack and dry your wet face. 

“Are you done yet? No need to get all fancy for some ramen.” Mina complained, which prompted you to roll your eyes. You weren’t even taking that long. You usually take a considerable amount of time getting ready on a regular day. Jungkook could definitely attest to that, seeing as he’s always whining about you ‘taking 40 hours to get ready’. 

You grab your white air forces, and a pair of socks from your closet, slipping them on. “Okay, I’m ready to go.” 

“Finally.” She jumps up from your mattress. “I’m literally starving. I felt like I could pass out from hunger any second now.” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” You grab your purse from your wardrobe, and your cellphone from the nightstand before the two of you make your way back into the living room. You grab your unit keys from the hook by your front door, the two of you heading out. As you were locking the door, your neighbor Hoseok exits out of his apartment. “Ladies,”  He smiles, locking his door as well. “Grand rising.” 

“Oh, hey, Hoseok. Grand rising to you too,” You return back the smile. “Where’re you headed to today?” You ask, dropping your key into your purse. “Just going to check the mail,” He laughs. “How about you, lovelies?” 

“We’re heading to Makoto for lunch.” 

Hoseok hums lightly, nodding his head. “Mmm, I love Makoto. Bring me back some rice cakes?” 

“Of course.” You giggle. 

“You’re a real one.” He lightly pats your shoulder before going on his way. Once he was far enough away, Mina spoke up. “He’s such a weirdo.” She snarls, shaking her head as she watches Hoseok walk down the hall. You shrug. “I think he’s eccentric, but in a good way.”   

“Whatever you say. I think he watches you through his peephole when you’re coming or going.” She jokes. “You’re such a bitch.” You chuckle, nudging her with your elbow. As you and Mina walk to the exit of the building, your phone vibrates from the inside of your purse. You pull it out, peering at the contact name. “Kookie cake 🍪🍰”. 

You smile upon seeing Jungkook’s contact name, answering quickly before it sends him to voicemail. “Hey.” You greet him giddily. “Hey, beautiful.” You could tell he was smiling on the other end. “What’re you up to?”  You ask. Not that you needed to. You could hear the buzzing in the background, which tells you that he’s at work. Jungkook worked at a tattoo parlor as one of the main tattoo artists and piercers there. He usually doesn’t have time to call you when he’s at work, being that he’s always so busy with clients. 

“I’m at work,” he lets out a sigh. “One of my clients doesn’t come in until 3:30, so I took this time to hear your angelic voice.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up. Mina looked over at you, making kissy faces. You make it outside, the sun blazing down on you. It had to be about 80°C out today. “Well, I’m glad you called. I wanted to tell you that you made me late for my lunch date with Mina today.” You approach the passenger side of Mina’s silver Chevy Cruze, waiting for her to unlock the door. “Oh, you’re blaming me?” Jungkook laughs. “I seem to recall a certain someone begging for me to stay longer.”

“Wow, expose me much?” 

Mina unlocks the car, and you pull open the door before climbing inside. She starts up the engine, looking over at you. “Alright, lovebirds. Talk to each other later, I want to play music.” You roll your eyes. She wouldn’t be saying that if it was her on the phone talking to Jin. “I guess I have to get off the phone, Mina’s being a hater since she’s not on the phone with her man.”

She throws a glare your way, childishly sticking her tongue out at you. “Alright, Angel. Call me later?” 

“You know I will.” You say your goodbyes, then end the call. “Thank you.” Mina turns on her radio, turning the volume to the highest it could go. The drive to Makoto wasn’t a long drive. From your apartment it was about 8 minutes away. You usually had to take the bus there on scheduled work days as the walk took an hour or so.  

“Hope we find a table, it looks crowded today.” Mina makes the observation, seeing that the restaurant’s parking spaces were nearly full. “They usually are on Friday.” You inform her. You’ve worked plenty of Fridays to know. Mina manages to locate a parking spot not too far from the entrance, and pulls into it. “I can’t wait to stuff my face with dumplings.” Mina licked her lips like an animal deprived of food. 

“Their dumplings aren’t that good.”  You shake your head. Maybe you only felt that way because you worked here, and are constantly having Mr. Kim make you dumplings. After a while they started to make you sick. The bell rings as you two walk through the entrance. “Hey, Jimin.” You greet your co-worker as he’s taking a customer’s order. “Hey, Y/N. Are you here to help out today?” He peers over at you with a smile. 

“As if. I’m going to enjoy my day off while I can,” you laugh. “Any tables left?” You ask, looking around. The restaurant was crowded just as Mina thought. “Yeah, we’ve got one more table left. You’re lucky.” After he finishes up taking orders, he leads the way to an empty table. You and Mina take a seat, and Jimin flips to a blank page on his notepad. “I’m guessing you girls already know what you want?” 

Mina piped up immediately, already making up her mind before you got there. “Dumplings.” Jimin scribbled down her order. “Anything to drink?” He asks.  “Water will do.”  Jimin nods, looking over at you. “Let me guess,  dumplings for you too?” 

“Wrong. I'm not a total cliché. I’m getting Hakodate ramen.” 

Jimin smirked, taking down your order. “Anything to drink?” He scribbles something else down in the notepad. “I’ll take a water too.” Jimin flips the notepad your way, showing you that he had already written it down. “Guess you are a total cliché.”  You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Just go put in our orders.” 

He chuckles, leaving your table to head back into the kitchen. “He seriously wants to fuck you.” Mina blurted. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the unexpected assumption. “Don’t be ridiculous, he knows I’m seeing Jungkook.” 

“What’s your point? Guys don’t care if you have a man or not. If you gave him an opening he’d take it in a heartbeat. Trust me.” she whispers as she notices Jimin walking back over with your waters. He sat the glasses down on the table, then pulled out a pair of red chopsticks for the both of you to take. “Your food won’t take too long, I’ll be back with it shortly.” He smiles down at you before walking back to the kitchen. Mina stares at him as he walks away, a grin on her face. “If I were you, I’d fuck him.” 

“Not a chance. I care about Jungkook way too much.” 

“That’s cute and all, but you need to burst that cherry at some point, and Jungkook is taking his sweet time.” She takes a sip of her water. You didn’t see what was so wrong with that. Most women would find it attractive to know a guy is taking his time with sex. You did. It showed that he didn’t just see you as a sexual object. As much as you wanted to lose your virginity, you respected him for wanting to wait. It honestly made you feel more important to him. You knew you weren’t going to be Jungkook’s first–you weren’t even going to be his second or third, but for some reason it brought you comfort knowing he valued you enough to take it slow unlike he did with other girls. 

Jimin comes back to the table with your food in hand, handing Mina her dumplings, then sitting  your ramen in front of you. “Here you go, ladies.” 

“Thanks, Jiminie.” You grab your chopsticks, pulling them apart. “No problem. Enjoy–” Jimin is cut off by the bell of the entrance door ringing. His expression suddenly looks distressed, and sickly. “Uh…. are you okay?” You ask, following his gaze towards the entrance. When you look to see what caught his attention, your eyes are fixed on a group of men standing there. You noticed that the entire restaurant seemed to quiet down upon these men's arrival, the atmosphere not as family friendly as before. Some of the people whisper amongst themselves, not daring to speak aloud. 

“Can we get some fuckin’ service around here?” A taller guy within the group calls out, staring directly at Jimin. Jimin sighs, walking over to the flock of degenerates. You turn to look at Mina, her face was just as confused. “Am I missing something, who are these guys?” You whisper to her. “I don’t know, but they’re giving off some bad energy. Let’s hurry and eat so we can go.” 

“I’m sorry, but we’re out of tables right now. The wait time is going to be about 30 minutes.” Jimin explains to the men, but they clearly aren’t having it. “Why wait when we can find a table for ourselves right now?” The lanky man snarls, shoving Jimin out of the way as they stride through the restaurant anyway, laughing as Jimin seemed to freeze up instead of stopping them. The group of men are looking at tables, as though they’re shopping for who’s they’re going to take. People turn their heads, trying to avoid eye contact as they do so. 

They end up stopping in front of an elderly couple, and the taller one speaks again. He must’ve been the leader of the group, with the way he seemed to take charge. “You’re being booted, oldheads. Give us your table.” The older woman looks towards her husband, awaiting for him to speak up. “You should learn to respect your elders, young man. We’re still eating here.” 

The group of men snickered, clearly not giving a damn about respect of any kind. “You think we give a fuck? Get up, or we’ll make you get up.” Your eyebrows furrow, the threat not sitting right with you. Mina notices your expression, knowing it all too well. “Don’t you dare say anything. Stay out of it.” She warns, not wanting the attention of these men on you. One thing about you is that you didn’t take too well to bullying. You were always standing up for people, and judging by the fear oozing off of everyone at the restaurant, you’re the only one that was willing to do it. Even Mina was scared. 

The elderly couple ignored the group, clearly having no self awareness about the potential danger of the situation. The lanky guy shares a look with a raven haired man, almost like they were speaking to each other telepathically. “Handle it.” The raven commands the taller one. Those two simple words were all he needed to hear as he snatched the elderly woman from the table, prompting the older woman to scream out. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Her husband shouts. “I told you to get the fuck up or we were going to move you.” 

You noticed that everyone looked mortified by the ordeal, but still made no effort to help. Who were these guys that made everyone here too terrified to even speak? “Let go, you’re hurting me!” The older woman cries out. You couldn’t take the sight anymore, you refused to cower and watch these men harass the elderly like everyone else; you slam your hand on your table, taking a stand. “Why don’t you assholes just leave them the fuck alone?” Your outburst catches the eyes of everyone in the restaurant, some shaking their head at you like you were a fool. Mina slides down in her seat, wishing she could hide from this confrontation. 

“Mind your fuckin’ business, bitch.” The lanky man spat, glaring at you like you were insane to be talking to them like that. “This just became my business, so how about you just walk the fuck out of here and find a different place to eat.” You snap back at him, your glare just as vicious. You were probably making a mistake by opening your mouth, seeing as you were heavily outnumbered, but you couldn’t turn back now. “How about we take your table then?” Mina is quietly whispering ‘no, no, no’, hoping that it didn’t come down to that. You knew she was going to be unbelievably pissed at you if it did. 

“Try and take my table.” You challenge him. 

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back; the man shoves the older woman back into her seat before he stalks over to your table. The way he’s approaching you looks so threatening, and you feel that you have no choice but to defend yourself. You grab your chopsticks from the table, tightly gripping the wooden sticks in your hand as you brace yourself for a showdown. “Joon,” the lanky man halts in place just as he’s about to grab you, and looks back at his posse. “Head outside and take a breather.” The raven speaks calmly. 

Joon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, not even bothering to argue back with the order given to him. He looks at you with an evil glower and points his slim finger in your face. “You just lucked out, bitch.”  He storms out of the restaurant, the bell dinging as he exits. You’re still holding the chopsticks as the raven now approaches you, his hands in the pockets of the green letterman jacket he adorned. The way he commanded the Joon guy told you well enough that he was the one in charge. “I apologize on behalf of my friend there. He was a little out of line,” 

‘A little??’ 

Even though this man was apologizing to you, there was something about him that sent chills down your spine. The way he looked into your eyes felt like he was trying to take your soul. He had eyes like the devil. They were dark, cold, lifeless even. He actually intimidated you more than the tall one, which you felt showed through the way your legs quivered like they were about to give out at any second. He looked so cool and collected, the disturbance he and his crew caused having no effect on him. It was like he worried about nothing, and feared no one. His eyes shift from you, to the chopsticks in your hand. “Were you planning on stabbing my friend with those?” 

You look down at the chopsticks as well. “If… if I had to.” You answer truthfully, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat. The raven smirks, running his tongue across his bottom lip as if the thought turned him on. “You’re brave,” his eyes roam your body in an uncomfortable, predatory kind of way. “I like you.”

Those were the last words he spoke to you before turning away, deciding to leave the restaurant like you requested them to do. He jerks his head towards the exit, signifying for his crew to follow him out. You wait for them to fully depart before you drop your chopsticks to the floor and collapse back into your seat. Your heart was beating so fast, you really were doubting your decision, not knowing how it would’ve turned out. Jimin runs to your aid, finally doing something useful after letting those guys punk him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. You simply nod, not having the words to speak. “Who the fuck were those guys?” Mina spoke up after also leaving you to basically battle alone. “Trouble, and I can’t believe Y/N just stood up to them like that. Those guys are dangerous, I don’t even know how you’re still breathing after talking to them the way you did,” Jimin shakes his head in wariness. “The tall guy with the big mouth was Kim Nam-Joon, and the nonchalant one was Min Yoongi. Some people call him Agust D. He’s the one in charge, if you didn’t notice. I’ve heard horror stories about that guy, like that he stabbed a dude in the neck with chopsticks and killed him,” 

You snap your head up at him, your eyes wide. ‘He killed someone with chopsticks?’ Were you really in the face of a serious threat? You could tell that those guys weren’t like normal bullies you’ve stepped to, but you never imagined them being notorious enough to have heinous stories told about them. “I really can’t believe that you survived that.” Jimin repeats again, making you sick to your stomach. “Okay, you’re not helping. At least she did something, unlike you.” Mina snapped. Jimin threw his hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m a man. I might have not been so lucky if I pulled what Y/N did. The only reason she got out of that situation unscathed is because she’s an attractive girl.” 

“Can we please get the check?” Someone calls from a different table, catching Jimin’s attention.“Be right there.” He squeezes your shoulder in a comforting way before leaving you alone to get back to his scheduled work. You sat in silence, your appetite lost.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mina pressed. You nod again, reassuring her. You’re alive, right? Why wouldn’t you be? “What we should take from this situation is… I told you not to get involved.”  You whipped your head in her direction, your mouth gaped at her insensitivity. She shrugs, taking a sip of her water. 

“Excuse me?” You look to see the older woman and her husband walking towards you. “Yes?” You smile at the couple, taking solace in knowing that you risked your safety for them and that they were okay in the end. “We want to say thank you for standing up for us,” The older woman reaches out, taking your hands in hers. “Thank you so much.”

“It was no problem,” You lightly squeezed her hands. “I’d do it again.”

Taglist

@l0stindigo @minyoongimylove @mamidescarada, @corruqti0n, @cuntessaiii, @bubbles2300 @rosquilleta @justletmehavethenamemarsomfg @pineappleburger @secfir @bangtangalicious @mytokkiboyfriend @ahses-world @kenpachisimp @snoozeagustd @borahaerhy @officialholyagua @kooslilhoe @agustdsslutt @wittyreader @moonchild-qaads @all-black-darling @littlestarstinyseven @jojowantstocry @whipwhoops @moocow778 @multiasf @mxshikoo @passionandsuga @justdancehoba @missmin @kooksbunnnn @primadonnasdream @ashslytheringoddess @yoongislatinagff @itzz-me-duh @roguesthetic @melankooly @captaincarmel416 @strxwbloody @catchmybreath94 @yunkissis @miamorcitovante @sanxoxodra

#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min suga #min yoongi #suga x you #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi #suga #suga x reader #bts suga #suga fanfic #suga fluff #suga smut #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts x reader #agust d #agustd #bts x you #bts fluff #bts fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #bts mafia fic #bts x female reader #bts min yoongi #bts min suga

[yoongleboongle]

yoongi fic recs part iii

because I have nothing to do and I miss him terribly terribly terribly

(once again, all of love and support to the writers!)

1. haze by @bonvoyagenoona

fwb(?)au, fluff, smut, 6.5k words

2. I already have you and a cupcake, what more could I possibly need by @taetaespeaches

established relationship, fluff, 1.3k words

3. phases of a daydream by @ki-yomii

established relationship, fluff, smut, 2.8k words

4. riding yoongi in his studio chair by @mccnyoongi

established relationship, undergroundrapper!yoongi, fluff, smut, 2k words

5. extra of in our forever by @muniimyg

established relationship, fluff, angst, smut, (part of the 'in our forever' series but can be read as a standalone drabble imo)

6. the trophy wife by @taeyohonic

established relationship, angst, fluff, 5.7k words

7. favouritism by @taeyohonic

established relationship, pandemic!au, fluff, smut, 2.2k words

8. 01:26am drabble by @wtf-yoongi

established relationship, just fluff and cute vibes

9. everything by @hamsterclaw

established relationship!au, fluff, a little angst, smut, (part of the 'vows' series but can be read as a standalone oneshot imo), 2.3k words

( honestly the vows series is one of my all time favourite series and I reread when I'm bored or feeling down so I would recommend the entire series if you haven't read it ! )

#yoongi fic recs #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #bts fic recs #fic rec list #bts yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #agust d

[thvixen7]

— pairing: yoongi x gn!reader | drabble | fluff

♫ now playing SDL by agust d

summary: ending a stressful week by chilling with yoongi while he gets some work done

a/n: been having D-Day on repeat and the yoongi brainrot is so real rn. so here’s a little something in honor of yoongi’s birthday :D

Lights dim and speakers playing, you laid on your boyfriend’s black leather couch in his studio. bopping your head, the beat of the music filled your ears. music was always something that put you in a good mood and after the week you just had, a boost was much needed. things have been stressful lately. It was one thing after another.

But in Yoongi’s presence you could let go and relax. Whenever you were in his vicinity you felt like a burden was lifted off your shoulders. He offered a sense of security. He was a breath of fresh air. Even though he was currently occupied doing whatever, you still enjoyed that he was near you. giving you relief with his company alone.

Yoongi looked back at you feeling such warmth in his heart. “Are you doing okay, love?” he questioned in which you replied with a simple “yeah” and grinned. He gave you a thumbs up and flashed that gummy smile you love. Without another word he stood up and made his way over to you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “What's this?” you chuckled, your hands resting on his broad back. “you look like you needed it…” and you certainly did. “thank you, yoongs”.

Before breaking the embrace he pecked your forehead and went back to his chair to continue his work. diving back onto the sofa, you grabbed the throw blanket and wrapped yourself up. with the tempo of the current song slowing, your eyes started to become heavy with sleep. you were content as the atmosphere was peaceful. what a great way to spend a casual friday night.

#yoongi x reader #suga x reader #agust d #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts drabble #yoongi drabble #yoongi bts #music fic #agustd dday

[poutyniall]

I feel at home every time he smiles

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #lil meow meow #yoongi gummy smile #suga smile #yoongi smile #suga gummy smile #happy suga #happy yoongi #yoongi tiny teeth #suga tiny teeth #yoongi cheeks #suga cheeks #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #yoongi long hair #suga long hair #soft baby suga #soft baby yoongi #honey boy suga #honey boy yoongi #yoongi cute #suga cute #bangtan #bts yoongi #bts #bts suga

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

touch-starved | min yoongi

we are going to ignore how every single one of my writings has nightmares in them, i personally experience very vivid nightmares on occasion so i guess art imitates life or whatever. also we're gonna ignore that this is the second bodyguard imagine i've written, this one was a request so it's a little less embarrassing but still is a little but not enough that i won't post it on the internet because i know y'all shameless too. here we have bodyguard!yoongi x celebrity fem!reader. warnings: stalking/stalkers (not yoongi this is not a yandere situation sorry), mentions of loneliness, a nightmare (obvs its me writing duh), horror movie mentioned...........idk if there's anything else but please do lmk

There is a soft knock at the hotel room door. You check the peephole to see Yoongi standing there, tapping rhythmically on his leg as he waits for you to let him in.

“Well, as far as I can tell, you’re not being followed,” he says as he enters, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the chair by the sofa.

You sit on the sofa, rubbing your temples. “Well, that’s a relief,” you say tiredly.

“All this trouble for a guy you’re not even dating,” Yoongi says mildly, but he’s looking at you with his curious eyes, trying to gauge your mood.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever even talked to him,” you agree, flopping listlessly onto your side. “Remind me never to smile at anyone in public ever again.”

He smiles. “Or wear similar outfits, or go to the same places,” he adds, his eyes gentle. Then he leans against the sofa, facing the wall. “It’s not your fault, though.”

“I know,” you sigh. “You know, I kind of wish it was real,” you admit.

“Why? You like the guy?” Yoongi asks sharply.

“Not really,” you muse. “I mean, he is handsome. But it’s really that if I were in a relationship, it would mean that someone got close enough to me to like me.”

“I know you,” he responds indignantly. “And I like you.”

“You’re my bodyguard. You are paid to like me, so it doesn’t count,” you protest.

Yoongi shakes his head, annoyed. “On a good day,” he says scathingly, “I’d like you even if you weren’t paying me.”

“That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” you say, and the tension in the room dissolves as Yoongi gives you a smirk. “Who knew it would be so lonely to be a celebrity,” you say lightly, unable to escape a twinge of bitterness in your voice.

“It’s not all bad,” Yoongi reminds you, nodding out the massive windows at the spectacular skyline view.

You smile at the setting sun. “True,” you allow. “This part I like.” You watch for a few minutes as the sun sinks almost imperceptibly lower. “You must think I’m so spoiled.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I can see how there would be drawbacks. Personal privacy is a luxury that only poor people can afford.”

You tsk at him. “You’re talking in riddles again,” you scold. “It’s a condition at this point. You should really have it checked.”

He grins. “Just say you aren’t smart enough to understand,” he shoots back.

You chuckle, loving the back-and-forth. “Just say you have to pretend to be smart by using big words,” you retaliate.

He bows, his grin wider, as if to say, “you won this round”. “So,” he says, going to the mini fridge and popping a can of soda open. “What shall it be tonight, madame?”

You crinkle your nose in disgust at his butler-like tone. “Something spooky. In honor of fall,” you tell him, handing him the remote.

When he had become your bodyguard two years ago, at the recommendation of your agency, you had learned that he was required to work long into the night at your side. Feeling bad, you had started to watch movies every night when he came around so that he’d at least have something to do. Your relationship had come a long way — he had started out watching the movies from the back of the room, standing by the door, to now, sitting beside you on the sofa. This was representative of your relationship as well — when you had first met he was cold and professional, but now the two of you bantered back and forth in a way that was comfortable and easy. You really couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable with anyone, in fact.

It was hard to know when your less responsible feelings for him had begun. Truthfully, you suspected that you had just developed an unhealthy attachment to the only person you spent time around, but there were nights when you’d watch him writing in a little pocket-sized notebook, his long hair falling in front of his face, and imagine how it might have been if you’d met in a normal way — at a college somewhere, where he’d bring you a juice every day and help you study for exams. Now, there was barely a way to tell if what you felt when you saw him — that accelerated heart rate, that quiet thrum of energy in your mind — was real, or if it came from your own foolishness.

You watch him now — his face in the dying sunlight is so pretty you’re almost jealous, and the feeling in your chest pulses in a way that is almost painful. He turns on the TV and scrolls through shows until he finds a promising title: some horror film about an old woman in a spooky old house with a mysterious secret. As you begin the movie he has his arms folded, watching with veiled interest. But he notices the first time you flinch.

“Scared already?” he teases.

“You don’t miss a trick,” you say ruefully. “Pay attention.” You gesture to the screen.

About fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door that corresponds perfectly to a jump scare in the movie, and you yelp in fright. Yoongi gets up, brow furrowed. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asks.

You shake your head no. He looks through the peephole and curses. “It’s your stalker again,” he grumbles, pulling out his cell phone. “Hey, Harvey,” he says, and his voice is calm, but you can tell he’s angry. “I need you to come up to the room and grab something. I was hoping it had already been taken care of.”

The voice of the hotel security team lead says something unintelligible, and Yoongi thanks them before hanging up. He slides the two chains into their places on the door and takes a door jam from his pocket, wedging it between the door and the floor. He grins at your wide eyes. “Don’t worry, milady,” he says, “he can’t get in even if he figures out how to unlock the door.”

“But what if he did get in?” you whisper, spooked.

He shrugs. “I’d kill him,” he replies.

“For real?!” you squeak,

“No,” he says with an eye roll. “But I would incapacitate him in record time. That dude is a wimp.”

He seems to notice you’re nervous, and his eyes soften. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”

When he sits back down, he sits closer to you than normal. Your legs are touching. You look at him quizzically and he smiles. “It’s a small couch,” he says, throwing an arm up over the back of the couch — not around your shoulders, but close enough that you’re blushing.

You try to focus on the movie, but you find that despite your anxiety, you’re beginning to nod off. Almost automatically, you find yourself leaning toward Yoongi’s warmth, and your head finds his shoulder. Giving in to the exhaustion, you find yourself in dreams.

It’s not long before the dreams turn dark. You have been prone to bad dreams as a result of your overactive imagination, but these are more solid than your usual nightmares — stealing from reality and stretching it so that teeth are too long, smiles are too wide, and the hands that reach for you are too strong. You wake up with a gasp.

You’re in your bed. You flick on the bedside lamp and put a hand to your chest, breathing deeply, still anxious. When a soft voice calls your name, you nearly jump out of your skin. Yoongi has poked his head into your bedroom, and is now looking at you in amusement. “It’s just me,” he says, stepping inside. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to recover, although your voice still shakes. “I just had a bad dream.”

He grins. “No more falling asleep to horror movies,” he says in a fake-stern voice. “Do you need anything?”

“I think I’d like if you stayed with me a minute,” you confess, your voice quiet, looking at your hands. You are more nervous he’ll say no than you are about the dreams.

When you finally meet his gaze, his expression is unreadable. He walks silently to the side of your bed and sits down beside you. You can’t help but admire how the lamplight casts an alluring shadow on his face before he does something unexpected.

He reaches out, and without looking at you, slips your hand in his.

You stare at him. He has never done this before — never touched you when he could avoid it. You’d always been grateful and a bit disappointed about this. You knew he should keep his distance and simultaneously wished he wouldn’t. To say you’re startled wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

And yet, holding his hand is soothing. You feel your fear fade away, and in a moment of boldness, give his hand a shy squeeze.

He looks at you, then at your interlocked hands. He takes a deep breath. “Well, I need to quit my job.”

This revelation is shocking. “Why?” you ask, suddenly panicked. “If I did something — I mean, I’m sorry if I crossed a line —“

He puts a finger to your lips. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says gently.

“Then stay with me,” you say, knocking his hand away from your lips.

“I can’t work for you when I feel the way I do about you,” he explains, almost in a pleading tone.

"What are you talking about?" you ask.

"I love you," he blurts.

You gape at him. "What?"

He blushes. "You heard me."

You look at his hand in your hand, and then back to him. "Are you serious?" you ask him, unable to keep a smile from your voice.

He rolls his eyes. "If you're just gonna make me keep repeating myself, this conversation isn't going to go anywhere." He stands up and places your hand back into your lap. "I'll give you some time to process."

You leap out of bed and follow him. "Wait a minute," you say, grabbing his hand. "How do you know you love me?" you ask him, your eyes searching his.

Yoongi blushes, but he looks a little pleased that you've grabbed his hand. "Well," he says, slowly digesting your question, "I think it's pretty easy to know. Of everyone I've ever met and spent time with, I've never enjoyed being around anyone the way I like being around you. Nobody makes me smile like you do, and nobody makes me crazier."

You blink. "Well, I feel all those things about you."

He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't have many real friends," you explain, "but I'd rather stay in with you and watch movies than go out, or go anywhere really."

"You would?" he asks.

You give him a pointed look. "Now who's repeating themselves?"

He shakes his head. "I'm just shocked. Are you saying you love me back?"

You look at him, trying to find the answer yourself. Your heart is pounding harder than it did at any scary movie, and the heat of his gaze is making you feel flushed and squirmy. You struggle for words. "I --"

Yoongi throws his jacket and keys onto the couch, and in one swift movement he pulls you into his chest. He places his hand on your cheek. "What do you feel right now?" he whispers, his lips inches from yours.

"It's hard to know," you whisper back. "Completely crazy, but somehow calm. Entirely safe, but terrified. It's like I'm on top of something very high, but wearing a harness."

He gives you a tender smile. "That sounds like love to me." And then he kisses you.

You cling to him as he presses a kiss to your lips, then your cheeks and jaw and nose and forehead. Sighing in relief, you melt into his arms, enjoying the feeling of being adored. After he finishes kissing you, he holds you in his arms for awhile, running his hand down your back in soothing motions.

You carefully monitor your feelings as he holds you, realizing that after all this time alone, you could be a bit out of touch with them. You feel a lot of things -- wild and alive and a little dizzy -- but the undercurrent of your feelings is peace and quiet. It feels right.

"You do need to quit," you say suddenly.

He pulls back. "Why?" he asks, shocked.

"Because I do love you back, and I'm not about to pay my boyfriend to hang out with me," you say. "That's pathetic, even for me."

He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. "As you wish, love."

"You can hire your replacement in the morning," you say, kissing him again.

#bts #bts fluff #min yoongi fluff #missing min yoongi? well me too so i wrote this #missing yoongi hour #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #agust d #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts agust d #yoongi imagine #kpop

[shabzy1644]

What your camera roll would look like dating Min Yoongi

#min yoongi #bts min yoongi #min yoongi bts #bts suga #bts min suga #suga bts #suga #agust d #agustd #min yoongi fluff #suga fluff #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #suga x reader #min yoongi scenarios

[bluekittyworld]

There is Karma.

Hello sweet people, this is my first time writing something, I hope you guys like it and all feedback will be appreciated.

Please don't post my work on other sites/platforms or copy it, or translate it, thank you.

Approx. 11,000 words in total and 5 chapters

Warnings: Lot's of angst, mention of suicide, smut, 18+

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Happy Ending

Sad Ending

There is karma. It comes back, don’t use your heart in a bad way.

You were part of the popular girls at school, a rich spoiled brat as one may put it. Grade As and Bs were natural to you, you wondered sometimes if you had put in the effort, you could have scored better than all the nerds in your class, but who needed that, you were busy being the popular and pretty rich ‘it’ girl, belittling the quiet and less popular ones. There was one boy in particular, his name was Yunki or Yoonji, something like that. He wore thick framed glasses; his skin was ghostly pale, and he had contrasting pitch black hair in bowl cut. You found him an easy target as he never spoke back, no matter how many times you tripped him over, shoved him around, broke his ugly glasses, he never said anything back.

Why did you hate him so much? He didn’t care about anyone, and you hated it so much, why didn’t he try to fit in? He dressed so poorly, everyone just assumed that he was in this school on a scholarship, there was no way he could afford the fees by the way he dressed. On the other hand, you had to become mean to fit in, every day you woke up hours earlier to complete your work, prepare your hair and makeup, you had to stay relevant, have everyone’s attention, keep the ‘it girl’ title, life was so hard. So, every time you saw the careless Yoongi living his simple easy life, it boiled your blood and what ticked you off even more is that he never retaliated, come to think of it you had never heard his voice, was he mute?

This carried on for 5 years until the day of your graduation, just before graduation, you and your friends mocked this boy wearing his skinny ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a plaid shirt. At the time your high-school boyfriend joined in too, you decided to give him a matching ripped shirt, pulling out your scissors you made a few cuts in his shirt and his bag, your friends laughed and recorded the scene. Your best friend took a few of his books, and teared them up, nobody noticed how Yoongi was having a panic attack and was on the verge of tears. Your boyfriend took the scissors and started cutting the poor boy’s hair, you did think it was pushing it too far, but nobody else seemed to care, why should you care right? Your boyfriend’s mates started kicking and punching Yoongi, he was now covered in blood and bruises, his eyes piecing into your soul, while he was being beaten up, his eyes were still fixated on you. You noticed this and felt a little bit of guilt, you pulled your boyfriend and asked to go to your favourite Korean BBQ. All your friends and his friends discarded Yoongi, leaving him in the middle of the school grounds, you didn’t even bother to look back if he was still breathing or not, nobody did.

On graduation day, Yoongi didn’t turn up, not like you really cared, you just wondered if he was okay, maybe you did go a little too far the other day. Also, it would have been a great opportunity to see his parents and assess his wealth today. Soon your friends and boyfriend came over to you, and that was the last time you thought of Yoongi.

Years had passed since graduation. You were well set into your father’s business, ready to take senior management positions, being born into an affluent family had its perks, your whole life was served on a silver platter, not a single day of difficulty. Life was monotonic and predictable you began to feel a growing sense of emptiness. Despite the success you achieved in your career and social life, there was an underlying dissatisfaction, a void you couldn't fill. A friend of yours suggested maybe participating in charity events may give you a sense of fulfilment, so you decided to join the next available event.

At this event, everyone was put into groups of 4, and the tasks varied, you were in a team with two boys and another girl. The aim was to visit the elderly and help them out with their chores for today. The drive to the house was quite quick, you didn’t really get to talk to your teammates, the only thing you knew were their names, Sora, Yeonjun and Yoongi. Yoongi rang a bell, but you couldn’t really remember if you ever knew a person with that name, maybe it was just a name of one of the many people you see every day at work, you brushed it off. 

Upon arriving at the house, you saw it was occupied by an old lady, the roofing had some issues and the wallpaper had been peeling off in various places. Yoongi took lead of the team, he suggested “Yeonjun and I will take the duty of fixing the ceiling, while you girls can start by removing the wallpaper.”

His voice was like a gentle breeze on a calm summer day, carrying warmth and serenity, you hadn’t heard such a caring voice in a very long time, even your own mother didn’t sound so affectionate.

You just nodded, while Sora nudged you, maybe you were looking at Yoongi for too long, he was looking back at you with his piercing dark eyes.

“The wallpaper removing machine is in the back of the car, let’s go get it” Sora mentioned.

You nodded and followed her along. Removing the wallpaper wasn’t hard at all, you and Sora had bonded quite well, it was interesting to find out about her, you learnt she ran a café nearby and had a fiancé, her parents currently live in Japan, and she has a poodle dog named Bobbi. You loved this kind of interaction; it was like a breath of fresh air being away from your routine life and interacting with people who didn’t have money on their minds 24/7. You glanced over to Yoongi’s direction now and then… there was a certain attraction you developed towards him, but you turned away each time in disappointment, him and Yeonjun were really focused on getting the ceiling fixed and didn’t really have time for other things. You really wanted to talk to Yoongi more and find out about him, maybe you wouldn’t get another chance and that really bothered you.

You and Sora were done removing the wallpaper, and the ceiling was still being plastered. You suggested to Sora “We should paint this room before the old lady comes back, it shouldn’t take too long, what do you think?”

“Perfect” Sora chimed “Let’s go to the nearby DIY store and pick out a colour.”

Sora got up and walked over to Yeonjun, by the looks of it you assumed they knew each other well, maybe they volunteered together previously, she asked “Yeonjun, my dear cousin, can you drive us in your car to the DIY store?”

Oh, now it makes sense, they were cousins, you smiled at learning the fact, you somewhat wished you were close to your family members.

At the DIY store you and Sora decided on a dusty pink colour, it would contrast well with the plants the lady had in her house. Yeonjun waited in the car and you guys were soon back, he suggested to grab some food, and as if on cue your stomach rumbled.

“Yup, ____ is hungry, we should definitely get food” Sora giggled.

You just smiled in embarrassment. The three of you had decided to buy four portions of Jjajangmyeon, not forgetting Yoongi of course.

Meanwhile Yoongi had finished up the plastering, he looked at the clock, it was 3pm, the old lady did mention she would return at 6pm, there were 3 more hours to go, more than enough time for the plaster to dry and paint over. He smiled at the fact he was ahead of schedule and thought the lady will be so happy to see the finished results. Soon you, Sora and Yeonjun came back, you distributed the noodle bowls to each person.

“Thank you” Yoongi smiled, you swear he had winked too, you felt excited like a teenage girl. You blushed and proceeded to sit down to eat, it was a nice meal, mostly Yeonjun sharing his personal life and how he has crush on his neighbour.

Chapter 2

#yoongi #agust d #bts #suga #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts reader #suga smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #agustd #suga fluff #yoongi fluff #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic

[mygloviesme]

ceilings — myg

(teaser)

—pairing: married!yoongi x nanny oc

—rating: 18+

—genre: angst, drama, eventual smut

—warnings: age gap, infidelity

—word count: tbd

—release date: soon girl just trust me

a/n: um 🤭

000

Staring off into the ragged space of my mind, I can only wonder how it ended up here. Was it the first day I stepped into that house? What about the trip to Milan?

The first touch, glance, when he said my name so easily. I’ve retraced my steps so many times as an attempt to level with myself, thinking, there had to be a reasonable answer to why this all started.

If only I had never read that stupid advertisement that was written so intricately. The pictures that didn’t fail to carve out every feature in that perfect family. Looking into it and thinking, this is something I could be a part of. I could make this family happy, I could fulfill every single need they have.

And all they needed was a live-in nanny.

‘I often go out on business trips a few times a month while my husband stays at home working remotely. It’s becoming too taxing on us as a family to multi-task, so we thought it best to hire some extra help. We’re looking for someone who has experience in child-care, preferably college educated, and over the age of twenty-one. Is CPR and First-Aid certified, along with others I’ll go over during the interview process. We really just want someone who is kind and willing to be a part of our family!

Read below for more.’

That’s when it was, wasn’t it?

The very fucking beginning.

000

#min yoongi #bts #bts imagines #fanfic #suga #agust d #bts jungkook #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts seokjin #bts ot7 #bts fanfiction #bts jhope #suga bts #bts fanfic #bts taehyung #bts icons #bts smut #bts army #bts jimin #bts v #yoongi angst #yoongi x fem #yoongi fanfiction

[btsugarush]

Y’all I’m on Pinterest and these are making me feel things I don’t have time to feel. Tattooed and pierced Yoongi? Please don’t give me any ideas right now. 😭

#min yoongi #bts suga #min suga #bts min yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #agust d #suga x you #bts min suga #suga angst #suga min yoongi #suga smut #suga fanfic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi smut #yoongi min #suga fluff #suga

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

Lock Me Up | Found

He promised.

Tags/Warnings: Detective Agust D my friends, Criminal Kitty!Reader, hybrid Yoongi, mentions of violence, kidnapping, major angst, fluff?

Length: Drabble

There is no taglist for this fic

A/N: now stop trying to ruin their happiness thanks

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Where could you be?

Police forces are out looking for any trace of you- his home already having been checked as well as your usual spots you'd be at during the day. But there's nothing. You've vanished without a trace, and Yoongi doesn't even have a clue who could've taken you in the first place. There's really nothing to gain from you other than maybe money- but in that case, someone would need to know your value first, and the people you're connected to. No one just randomly kidnaps someone and hopes their family can pay what they want.

It doesn't make sense.

And the number you told him? He doesn't know if it's complete, or if you got interrupted. He's got no clue what you meant by it, doesn't know what he's supposed to do with it- but it must be important if you say it to him. You're smart- much smarter than one might think, and he personally believes you're not even aware of it yourself. The streets have taught you a lot of things that can keep you alive in a situation like this-

so he hopes you'll use that knowledge until he finds you.

He's walking down the street on the edge of town where a patrolling officer seems to be arguing with an elderly lady, her dog on a leash barking, especially when Yoongi walks closer. He tends to have an effect on animals- though one look from his eyes seems to shut the small dog up. He hasn't been wearing his covering contact lenses in a long time now-

he's embracing who he is these days, much of it thanks to you.

"What's going on here?" Yoongi asks, the patrolling officer sighs, as the lady interrupts him, giving him no chance to fill the detective in.

"That constant banging noise is what's wrong!" The lady whines. "Every day, every night, bang bang bang, it's driving me mad!" She complains.

"Where is it coming from?" Yoongi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He's got better things to worry about than a noise complaint from a pensioned post-menopausal woman in her late 50's.

"Apartment 265, right above mine!" She says. "I don't know what that guy is up to these days but he should really think about his neighbors-" She rants, and Yoongis eyes sharpen.

"Which apartment?" He presses suddenly, cutting her off- and even she seems startled about his reaction.

"..265?" She answers a lot more quietly now, and Yoongi draws his weapon at that.

"You, ask her about any information she has about whoever lives in that apartment. I want a name, I want a description, I want when he leaves the apartment and what fucking shoesize he wears if she knows it!" he barks at the young officer, before he dashes into the apartment complex, running the stairs instead of taking the elevator to be faster.

Of course.

"He sold catnip laced with other drugs and baking soda." You'd laughed, looking at him upside down as you lazed around on his bed while he washed the dishes. "He wasn't too happy I basically snitched on him and told everyone about it. He was pissed!" You had told him.

"Try not to make anymore enemies from now on though." Yoongi had sighed. "Someone's gonna kidnap you one day, I'm gonna have to shoot someone, and that's a shit-ton of paperwork." He's told you, joking mostly.

"But you'd come and save me, wouldn't you?" You'd teased-

and he'd smiled, simply nodded in confirmation.

"Promise?" You ask him, and he sighs, before he turns around to walk closer to you, kissing your upside-down face with a stoic expression- but eyes filled with love.

"Promise.

He doesn't even knock or anything, simply shoots the door to unlock it, before he enters with the by now familiar phrase announcing his presence to whoever might be inside the apartment. The first thing he notices is the stench of garbage and sweetness, before the tiny flies seem to attack him as he looks around the apartment, searching for anybody.

And there he is, a man dressed in dirty sweatpants and an equally soiled sleeveless shirt, looking at him with angry eyes. "Should've known you hybrid rats stick together." He grunts, as Yoongi points the weapon on him, multiple officers entering the apartment behind himself, making sure the surrounding area is under control.

"Where is she?" Yoongi wants to know, walking closer with the gun still drawn.

"What part of her would you like?" The man sickly jokes, and Yoongi doesn't waste a second to shoot right next to the guy into the stained couch, visibly startling him.

"The next is gonna land right between your legs and trust me-" The detective growls, "-My aim is great." he threatens.

"Detective Min!" Someone calls instead, and Yoongi's attention is taken away as he runs towards the room he's been called to.

And right there, in the bathtub, there's you- wide eyed and bruised- a thick and clumsily wrapped cloth around your thigh stained in what he assumes must be old blood, but you're alive.

You're alive.

The moment he bends down to get closer, something seems to happen within you, as you scramble up to reach him first, wrapping your entire body and every available limb around him, even your tail- and he's never held you so tightly than now, finally breathing again as your scent is all around him once more. "You're okay." He reassures you- or maybe more so himself.

"You found me." You whimper into his chest, frantically scenting him. "You came.!" You say, and he nods.

"Of course." He tells you, uncaring of anybody in this moment as he just runs his hand over your back.

"I promised, didn't I?"

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagine #bts yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #bts suga imagine #suga imagine #agust d imagine

[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter One: Cherry Picking

Genre: College AU, Basketball Captain!Yoongi, Basketball Captain!Reader, Idiots to Lovers, slight Rivals to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: break up, implied cheating, cursing/sexual language

Synopsis: You and Yoongi always catch each other on the rebound. Notes: The first chapter! Enjoy x

Series Masterlist | Next

vVv

You hated the days where the girl's basketball team was forced to practice with the boys. It meant that you'd have to deal with the smell of boy sweat, being blatantly checked out, and many of the guys making fools of themselves as they tried to show off. Not to mention, you didn't like giving away your plays to the boy's team. Sure, you all played for the same university, but with an even amount of championship wins, this year, the competition was between the boys and the girls and who would be able to bring home another title that year.

And, you'd caught the boy's captain, Min Yoongi watching you as you ran through plays with your team. However, it wasn't the glances like you were used to from the rest of his team, the ones that lingered over your body and left you feeling like you needed a shower. No, Yoongi was watching each step of your foot, each time you faked a pass, or threw a basket. He was learning from you, and that was completely unacceptable.

You and Yoongi has been playing together since you were in high school. Now, as seniors in college, it was both of yours last chance to earn a championship for your respective teams. You both had previous championship wins, but the boys and girls never won a championship in the same year. And, this year, it was going to be yours.

"Yah, Min Yoongi! Why don't you come down here and show off your own strategy instead of stealing mine?!"

"I wasn't stealing," he said. "I was admiring." A smirk crossed his face quickly, fading so quickly you weren't sure it had even been there at all. "But, fine. Come on boys, let's play some defense."

Yoongi called over his team and instructed his starters to get into their respective defensive positions. His eyebrow arched as he got into position in front of you, his stance low and his arms out. Yoongi was known for his defense, in fact, it had turned many games. If your offense could beat Min Yoongi, it could beat anybody.

"Captain on Captain," he said, his momentary smirk returning. "Let's make this interesting. Whoever loses has to stay and clean up. Both locker rooms."

You shrugged, you often stayed for hours after practice anyway, but the thought of having to clean the boy's locker room made you want to throw up. However, you agreed—not willing to back down—and waited for the coach to blow the whistle, signaling for you to begin.

You began dribbling the ball and headed towards the basket. Yoongi was right there with you, his chest less than an inch from you. You stopped and passed the ball to a teammate before booking it over to the side of the basket where she passed it back to you.

It was a fairly simple play--the ball only being passed between you two--unless for some reason either of you was otherwise occupied. It depended on your teammates moving around to keep their defenders busy while the two of you used the free space to your advantage.

Yoongi attempted to catch the pass, his fingertips connecting with the ball, but you managed to catch it and throw it up at the basket before he could get a grip. The ball bounced off the basket and rebounded in your direction.

Yoongi managed to catch the rebound and started dribbling down the court. You defended him, but he was faster than he looked. You managed to get in his face just as he shot the ball up towards the basket, but it didn't faze him and the ball sunk into the basket.

You cursed under your breath. You turned--attempting to retrieve the ball--and your ass rubbed against Yoongi's thigh and you could practically hear the smirk break out across his face.

The game continued fairly uneventfully. The boys were two points ahead due to a lucky three point shot. It was the last half of the final quarter and you had to do something. You carefully signaled to your team to do a play that involved passing the ball excessively before one of your teammates finally passes it back to you and you go for the three point shot. You could think of nothing sweeter than winning by one point.

The play went smoothly with the ball coming back to you. Yoongi had only left your side for a moment in an attempt to catch the pass back to you, but as he quickly discovered what you were planning, he lunged towards you. Attempting to stop the ball from its ascent, he had too much momentum and smacked right into you. The ball's ascent becoming much sharper and landing far short of the basket.

You--on the other hand--had fallen straight backwards. Luckily, your butt broke your fall and you rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, out of breath from the shock. You heard the whistle blown--indicating that Yoongi fouled you--and it brought you back to reality.

Everyone seemed to be asking if you were okay, in a flurry of questions that only made you feel dizzy. You simply offered a quick nod and made your way to the free throw line. You easily made the two free shots, tying up the game.

The whistle sounded. "Games over," the coach said. "Looks like the teams are pretty evenly matched." He nodded at you and Yoongi. He dismissed practice and you turned to look at Yoongi.

"So, I guess the bet's off? Since we tied? We'll each just clean our own?"

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't mind doing both. I didn't mean to hurt you."

You laughed. "I'm fine, Yoongi. You've seen me take worse falls."

"I know, it's just--I caused this one--"

"Well, if you really want to clean the girl's locker room, it's fine. Just text me first or something so I can make sure everyone's out."

vVv

You didn't register Yoongi's text as you sat underneath your office desk. Your legs pulled into your chest as you tried to steady your breaths. He had to have known you were in your office by now. He'd been at practice and was probably changing when he sent the simple text.

"I'm breaking up with you, Y/N."

You knew your now--ex-boyfriend had probably left already--probably already had another date lined up. God, you hoped it wasn't with one of the other girls on your team. Partially because of the awkwardness, but also, because every girl on your team deserved better than a boy who would break up through text.

You heard a hesitant knock on the door. You huddled down closer underneath your desk, hoping that if you could keep your sobs quiet enough, whoever it was would just go away.

"Anyone still in here?" you heard Yoongi ask, as he peeked into the empty locker in room. Your office was connected to the locker room, but the blinds on your window were closed and your door was closed. You pulled your legs as close as they could possibly get to your body and pressed your head into your knees, hoping Yoongi would clean and leave thinking simply that you'd left already.

You heard as he shuffled around the locker room picking up half drank water bottles and making sure all the locks were secure. Your sobs were building up in your chest and you feared you couldn't hold them back. You inhaled sharply, but the exhale came out shaky. You whimpered, trying to hold the tears back.

The nearly completely concrete room carried sound better than some music rooms and it was only a moment later the shuffling paused.

"Y/N?"

You stayed quiet, even forgetting to breath for a few moments. You weren't sure how he immediately knew it was you. Maybe it was because you were always known to stay after practice and do your homework or work on strategy, often not leaving until it was dark. Or, maybe you two had simply played long enough together he could tell you from the others on the team.

You phone vibrated, somehow reverberating off the walls. It was simply reminding you of Yoongi's unread text and you muttered a silent curse as you heard the shuffling stop once again.

"Y/N?" he asked again, this time approaching the door to your office.

You closed your eyes and tried not to notice how the light was suddenly blinding you, even with your eyes shut.

"Y/N, what are you doing down there?" he asked. "Wait, what happened?"

You opened your eyes and looked up at the boy who was crouched down in front of your desk and examining you with his frustratingly puppy like eyes.

"It's nothing," you said, crawling out from underneath your desk and leaning against it and crossing your arms. Yoongi followed you, standing up, but not leaving the room.

"It's not nothing," he said. "I haven't seen you cry this much since you broke your wrist at championships Freshman year."

"At least I made the shot though," you said, smiling for half a second before it faded.

"I-I didn't hurt you earlier, did I?"

You shook your head. "No, really, Yoongi, I'm fine. It's stupid."

Yoongi stood in silence, waiting for you to explain. He wasn't going to leave without an explanation or a fight, and you were too exhausted to argue with the boy. Normally, when you were grumpy, he was the first person you picked a fight with, but you hated him seeing you in your weakened state. And, you knew he would see through your attempts at trying to argue for what they were--trying to annoy him into leaving.

"Isn't Ji-yoo waiting for you?" you asked, your attempt at stalling causing him to sigh and release the tension in his shoulders. You knew mentioning his girlfriend was a sure fire way to piss him off, but the girl was sweet and a decent player. You honestly didn't want her to have to wait on your problems.

"Y/N, just tell me what happened. We've known each long enough. I'm not gonna tell any of the boys about this."

Your eyes shifted away from him and your hands gripped the desk, your knuckles turning white. You held back another sob that has built up during the conversation, feeling more pathetic than ever.

"Chan-woo broke up with me," you said. "He texted me a little before you did." The sob came out and you hid your face in your hands.

You felt Yoongi's body envelope yours. You immediately fell into his warmth, your face hiding in his black T-shirt. You could still smell his body wash and a small hint of a musky cologne. He'd obviously showered just after practice and you couldn't be more thankful as you took in his scent and you felt yourself relax against him and the desk.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and deep. It was the voice he used when he pitied you. His arm tightened around your back and you propped your chin on the center of his chest. He looked down at you, his free hand coming up to carefully brush some of your still damp hair from your face. "I know we're not really friends, but I don't like to see you upset. What happened to the Y/N from high school? You were the one breaking hearts then."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. "Like yours? Remember when you asked me to homecoming and I said no?" You dragged your fingertip over his chest and felt his gaze harden. Not maliciously, but enough to make you pause.

Your body tensed again under his gaze. His dark eyes looking at you in a way you couldn't describe. His gaze felt warm, but it was like sitting too close to a fire, the sparks began to burn.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I do remember. I also remember driving you home after you got stood up that night."

You pulled away, losing his warmth was nearly painful, but you wiped your eyes, the tears having stopped spilling. The sobs were no longer in your throat, but you could still feel where they sat.

"Oh yeah," you said. "I, uh, forgot about that."

"I know you're upset, but you deserve better. You know that, right?"

"No, its okay. I know. He was a jerk, anyway, and I really should've seen this coming. I always saw the way he looked at the other girls on the team. I don't really know why I'm so upset about it. I know I shouldn't be cause he was probably cheating on me anyway, but--"

Yoongi's lips cut yours off. It caught you off guard, but your hands seemed to naturally gravitate towards his freshly washed and still half damp hair and your legs spread allowing him to come closer. His hands anchored to the desk on either side of your hips. The kiss was short, but heated, and when he pulled away you felt yourself yearning for him to come back.

"Stop talking about him," Yoongi said. "It'll make you feel worse."

"Yoongi, what was that?"

"You were rambling."

You couldn't help but let out a girlish giggle at his excuse. Yoongi's eyes seemed to soften when you laughed, but his posture was still tense, his hands still resting on either side of you, and his body still so much closer than you two got outside of the court.

"I never liked the way he talked about you in the locker room," he said, his head lowering slightly. His gaze falling from yours.

"Mmm, is that right? How'd he talk about me?"

Yoongi seemed surprised at your response, but his gaze shot back to yours. It had darkened though, from a look of concern to one of need.

"All the things he wanted to do to you," he said, his voice becoming raspy and breathless. You noticed his gaze slipping downward, although you had no idea where.

"Like what?"

Yoongi's right hand moved from the desk and onto your thigh, pushing up your basketball shorts slightly. His fingertips brushed the edge of your panties, but he didn't attempt to go any further.

"He wanted to fuck you on the court. Right at half court."

"Is that all?"

"Well, he was more specific, but I'll spare you the details."

Yoongi's face was dangerously close to your own, your foreheads nearly colliding.

"Don't guys talk about that stuff all the time?"

"Yeah, but it was different."

"Why?"

Yoongi knew you were baiting him, but as his fingers began to slowly massage the skin of your thigh, he seemed to care less.

"Cause it was about you."

"What makes me so different, Min Yoongi?"

He didn't answer the hair on his forehead tickling your skin.

"Is it cause you've known me so long I've become like a sister to you?"

"No," he said.

"Is it cause you have your own fantasies about me?"

Again, he didn't say anything, but he bit his lip and let out a shallow grunt that seemed to be in affirmation. "Just cause your glances are subtle, Yoongi, doesn't mean I don't notice."

His glance was less than subtle coming to rest at your lips and finally meeting your eyes full of something primal.

"What do you want to do to me, Yoongi?"

His lips brushed against the skin on your neck—testing the waters—and when your neck lulled back allowing him full access. He was eager and immediately his tongue came into contact with your skin and made you shiver.

"I want to fuck you on this desk," he said.

"Then, do it." One of your hands returned to his hair, while the other played with the hem of his T-shirt. "And, don't spare me any of the details."

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[poutyniall]

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[bangtaninborderland]

MYG- Music To My Heart pt. 2

summary: you helped yoongi get past a musical block, he finally shows you the song but it was nothing like you’d expected.

part 1

It was exactly two weeks before the countdown for the song had begun, army going crazy over the teaser for the new single Dawn, yoongi had been in higher spirits ever since that night in the studio. He had even asked you to go yourself, calling your presence a blessing to his artistry.

The usual before a song release would be yoongi waiting around Hybe, either hidden in his studio or in the company of another member. Very rarely would he be home to watch a release unfold so you knew it must have been a special occasion when he stayed in the apartment with you, moving you both to the couch to join the countdown for the music video.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, nodding towards the timer on the flatscreen.

He continues to pet Holly who situated himself in between you both, paws tucked under the blanket covering your legs. “I don’t like to think too much about these things, this song is just one I particularly liked so I feel excited. It’s not like I can go back and change it.”

“You should be so proud of yourself, you worked hard for this and the fans will know that.” You shifted closer to him, hand reaching out to massage the base of his neck.

He leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering. “I’m nervous for you to see it.”

“Don’t be, did you forget I’m number one in min yoongis fan club.” You laugh lightly.

He shakes his head, not enough to disturb your soft moulding of his skin. “There’s a million people who would have different opinions.”

“Yeah, and Jungkook would be the first one in line to do that.” You sigh dramatically, causing you both to laugh.

The rapper shrugs his shoulders, smirking. “What can I say I’m an idol of idols.”

“Min Yoongi have you no shame or has it all disappeared because of the “big house, big car and big rings?”

He buried his face in his hands, flushing red with embarrassment as he laughs at the old lyrics. “Stop it.”

“Oh, it’s starting!” You shout excitedly, nudging him to face the screen. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me hear it before now.”

Regardless of your continuous badgering and occasional bribery, he wouldn’t let you hear the song, declaring you could only listen to it once the music video had been released. You’d given up after he locked you out of his studio for two days.

The soft melody began playing, the music video starts out in flashes of black white and grey. Your eyes are glued to the screen.

“Is that?” You noticed the soft humming tone he had made you record, playing over the sound of a piano.

“It’s you.” He responded, you didn’t question any further wanting to take in the entirety of the song.

The music video shows him travelling through some sort of timeline, images of the locations you’d met at and been on special dates to flickering in the background. The lyrics caused you to tear up, the words being more meaningful than anything you’d ever heard before.

“Oh, I'm runnin' round in a daze

We been walkin' so many ways

Feels like my heart's about to burst

Can't you see the take two?

Stories unfoldin' just for you

Youth with you by my side

Take my hands now”

The last verse came on and you broke, drawing in a choked breath as you pull his hand closer to you.

“It was possible because I was with you

I was happy being with you

I breathe in your voice

I stood up with your tears

Do I deserve your love?

The intersection of souls we've created over the years

I am so grateful and happy to be with you

Let's continue to be happy in the future”

You noticed the grainy picture of you two in the background, neither of your faces showing but you remembered it anyway, it was the day he had asked you out.

You wiped your face as the song came to a close, the last notes being the song you always whistled whenever you were cooking.

You’d never heard something so powerful, you’d never heard a song that held so much meaning and although you were an avid fan of the entire bts and agust d discography this was by far the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. The message being clearly a one of devotion, love and thanks. Something you often realised you’d never understand so clearly if you hadn’t met the man beside you.

As you turn to face him you realise how eyes are trained on you, you doubted he had watched a moment of the music video. “It was so beautiful.”

He ran a hand down the side of your face, wiping away a stray tear. Search the song.”

“What?” You gave him a puzzled look pulling out your phone.

As you typed the title into Naver a ton of results followed, mostly articles about the release of the song. “Now what?”

“Search the credits.” He laughed, watching your eyes.

You did as he instructed and began reading through them. You went stoic with shock as you see the word “ace” below the melody section.

When you’d first met each other he had always called you that because he said you were the ace of multitasking. Dealing with your own job and supporting him at all times whilst making him his favourite foods whenever you could.

“Yoongi I don’t know what to say it’s all so perfect.” You began crying again and this time he brought you closer to him, careful to mind the sleeping dog as he pulls your head to his neck.

“I wanted to thank you for everything these past few years. For being my best friend and accepting partner, for loving me and the members. I’ll never not be grateful to have you.” It’s only when you pull back you realise he too has tears in his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him, the action speaking louder than words. “I love you Min Yoongi.”

“I hope I can spend the rest of my life with you.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You kiss his head in return earning a smile.

“You really are something.” He laughs, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Wait until your number one fanboy Jungkook finds out you made a song about me.”

He rolls his eyes, fake groaning. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You humm, tapping your chin dramatically.“You won’t but neither will I.”

“And why is that?” He raises an eyebrow, cockily.

“Because I’m yours forever.”

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