#bts yoongi angst

[bts-trash-blog]

Best Of Us

Chapter 23: No Apologizes 

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

PREV._.NEXT

You woke up the next morning, eyes crusted over and drool dried on your chin. Sniffling you stretch a yawn dropping from your chest as you roll onto your back. The sound of your back popping had you whining as the sound of your phone dinging again and again then your phone started to ring. Reaching for it  you see Namjoon was face-timing you making your eyes widen as you face the front camera to the ceiling and answer.

“Morning honey! I heard you and Yoon had a good date last night.” Namjoon calls through the phone then he starts to giggle. “Where are you?”

“Hiding.”

“Why?” His question made you whine as you slap your hand on your face.

“I look horrible.” You whine making him giggle as you hear him shuffling.

“I highly doubt that baby, come on let me see you I miss your face.”

“I have no makeup and I’m all puffy.”

“Y/n I’ve seen you in the morning before.” He paused as you peek over, your face still out of view but his face was fully on show. His eyes are puffy, his hair a mess and covered lightly with a hoodie that looks all too familiar.

“Is that my hoodie?” Your question seemed to surprise him as he jumped and then started stuttering-you could imagine his ears turning a bright red.

“What? Nono of course not.” He muttered, making you chuckle as he whined. “See not fair you can see me but I can’t see you-I want to see you.” He whispers, making you huff as you roll over and sit up. Grabbing your phone you move to your face as you finally move for the screen to face you. “Hi beautiful….love your hair.” He chuckles, making you whine as you move the camera back away from your face, making him whine once again.”Wait wait please.” He huffed making you giggle as he let out an actual whimper making your heart thud as you slowly let your face pop up onto his screen. His frown slowly evaporating as he sees more and more of your face. “Drooly!” he said with a teasing smile as you huffed and glared at him.

“Bye.” You mumbled, hanging up making you giggle to yourself as your facetime started ringing again. Pressing the answer button you quickly see a pouting Namjoon.

“I'm sorry.”  He muttered, making you giggle as you whip at your chin. “But you are drooly-my drooly.” He mumble quickly making you roll your eyes as you shake your head at him.

“I swear if you call me that.” You huff making him smile brightly at you, your next words cut off with a knock at your bedroom door- sighing you huff as it cracks open your moms head peeking through as she smiles.

“Hey baby-just wanted to check in and make sure you took your morning dose?” You blink slowly while shaking your head as you hear Namjoon humm.

“I'm not in pain so I think I can hold it off till the afternoon.”

“Y/n.” Your mom scolds as you pout, hearing Namjoon clearing his throat making you look over at your phone.

“Pup you gotta take it so you’ll stay out of pain-so take it so we can maybe go out this afternoon on a lunch date? Just me and you?”

“But I can wai-”

“Then I won’t take you out-not gonna make you and your body be in a uncomfortable state just to go out wi-”

“But I wouldn’t be uncomfortable with Joonie.”

“How do you know?” His question had your mother humming, shoulders straightening as she gave you a ‘I told you so’ look as you held your hand out making her smile as she moved to your side table-grabbing your pill bottles and handing you your dosage as you sigh as the glass of water that she had brought up was shoved into your face. Taking your meds you look down at your phone screen and huff.

“Happy?”

“Hmm good girl.” At his words it instantly felt like your blood was on fire, the way it heated your body from the tips of your ears to your fingers and toes. It had you rolling your eyes as you let out a soft chirp as your mother giggled making you look at her.

“Mom-leave.”

“Oh but that blush of yours is just so cute.”

“Mommmm.” You whine as she pats the top of your head, shuffling the strains of your hair as you sigh. Namjoon chuckles once more as you look at him and pout.

“She’s telling the truth- you look all cute red.”

“I’ll hang up again.” Your words had him whining as you heard your mother chuckling as she walked out of your room as you sat up and yawn. “So lunch date?” You asked as you saw him nod a large smile on his face as you tilt your head at him.

“Yeah I know this cute little ramen spot- I went there all the time when I was in school.” He paused as he smiled brightly above the camera. “Hey babe.”

“Hi Joonie, who are you on the phone with?”

“Y/n.”

“Oh my pup!” Hoseok's voice calls out as his head pokes out of the top of the screen. His eyes bright, his scrunched nose making you smile brightly as you wave at him.

“Morning Alpha.” Your words had him letting out a shaken breath as you see a deep blush spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

“Making Hobi all red.” Namjoon chuckles, making the Alpha shush at him as he moves to sit next to the Omega.”The two of you look so cute all red.”

“Omega.” Hoseok mutters a small growl after the last letter it had you moving your thighs together as you take a shaken deep breath in. “Teasing me isn't very nice.” He paused as you see his hand spread across Namjoon's neck as you clear your throat as you see a smirk lifting at the end of his mouth. “Yet I think our little pup likes the teasing- especially with what Yoon said last night…” His words had your cheeks flaring up- your eyes widening as you drop your phone down, sitting up and covering your face as you whine at his words. “Alpha was very vocal about how whiny you were.” Namjoon whispered, making you peek back at your phone screen, seeing Namjoons face, and it looked like pure ecstasy. Hoseok's face was pressed into his neck, one arm around his neck holding his jaw and the other was spread across his chest. You could see his tongue poke out with each shaken breath Namjoon let out and it had you whining again. Grabbing your phone you prop it up against a pillow that rests on your head board as you catch Hoseok's eyes. You couldn't tell where the dark eyes were looking- your messy hair or the way you had changed into a crop top tank top- your stomach almost on full display. But it could also be your shorts- black and tight. His eyes jumped everywhere and so did Namjoons.

“You’re okay if I touch him, pup? Huh? Can I touch our Joonie with you on video call?” His question had you whimpering as you moved to pull at your shorts, trying to tug them down, twist them around. Yet the small bruises on the side caught your eyes, making Hoseok's chuckle. “Yoongi hyung wasn't very gentle last night was he- he was about drooling, explaining how you looked in the skirt-and his cock was twitching when he talked about the way your thighs squeezed his hips.”

“And the way they felt in his hands-god pup he is obsessed with your thighs.” Namjoon cut off the Alpha, making Hoseok's growl slightly against his skin-though the mention of Yoongi and you being brought up once again made your heart skip a beat- wondering just how much the Alpha had told the other two. “Please can Alpha touch me,please please.” Namjoon begged, making your eyes snap up at the two, Namjoon's phone was now propped against what you assumed was the lamp on the nightstand. Hoseok now behind Namjoon, one hand still wrapped around his jaw yet the other was now moving up and down the Omegas torso. “Please please please.” Namjoon begged, making you nod, lip being pulled by your teeth as Hoseok tutted, his head lifting from Namjoons neck making him whine as he panted up at the Alpha.

“Say yes or no. I don't do the nodding little girl.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Alpha.” You automatically said, making him chuckle and shake his head as the fire burned from your core upwards. The feeling had you blinking rapidly as he shakes his head once again. “Please?”

“Please what pup?”

“Please touch him?” You mumbled, a question towards the end head tilting- making Namjoon let out a moan as Hoseok smiled at you.

“Yeah? You want to watch me touch our Omega?”

“Yes.” You whispered as you watched the way his hand moved down the black fabric of your hoodie as you saw Namjoons fingers peeking from the edge of the sleeves as his hand moved to grip Hoseok's arm that was wrapped around his shoulders.

“Alpha please.” Namjoon whines as you see the way Hoseok's hand drops lower and lower to the gray sport shorts that Namjoon was wearing. You could see the outline of his cock- the way it twitched when he looked at you and you swear you could see the glissing of slick going down his inner thigh as he whined. Hoseok's hand pressing against this bulge as his head throws itself back against the Alphas shoulder.

“God you should smell how sweet he is.” Hoseok's words had you whining as you moved to rest on your knees as you saw the way Namjoons hips buckled upwards as Hoseok moved down and pressed a kiss to Namjoon's lips. As the two made out you felt your slick dripping thickly- it had you growing frustrated- too nervous to actually touch yourself in this moment but also too embarrassed to even ask. “Fuck.” Hoseok whispered, it had you looking to see his eyes on you- watch as your thighs move against one another as you huff hands moving to cover your face as he chuckled. “Eyes on us baby- or did Yoongi not teach you anything last night.”

“Di-did he tell you everything?” You whisper, nerves pulling at your heart and your brain starting to feel fuzzy. Blinking away warmth behind your eyes as Namjoon whined as Hoseoks stopped his actions- his hand freezing from slipping into Namjoons shorts as he sighed softly.

“No- not everything he said he wanted to keep some stuff between just the two of you-baby..hey hey look at me-’mega move real fast.” Hoseok muttered- the tears you were fighting finally falling as you huff hands moving back to cover your face as you whined slightly.

“Sorry sorry-just-just.” You stumble over your words as you hear Namjoon whine softly as you look back to the phone as you rub at your eyes. Namjoons face was dazed- yet focused on you. His eyes wide and blown out as he took a deep breath in trying to stabilize his breathing as he moved closer to the phone following Hoseok's movements.

“Omega?”

“Sorry sorry.” You mumbled quickly to hang up, you mind wandering to the night before. How intimate it had been between you and Yoongi. How personal you had gotten with the Alpha- and though you understood you were being courted by the trio-that you four would be a pack. Yet you thought that something would be kept between the two of you-- like Namjoon had said- you thought that last night would’ve fallen into that. You thought the bruises and teasing was going to be well kept secrets only spoken though hush whispers and lingering looks shared to the others only when you had spoken to each other about it. The constant buzzing interrupted your thoughts as your reached forward to see Namjoon had sent message after message

Joonie: pick up

Joonie: Please Y/n

Jooie:he didn't say anything but what we said. I swear.

Joonie: Baby i swear to you

Joonie: Please just pick up- Y/n

Joonie: I dont mean to sound like an ass but pick the fuck up

Joonie: Hoseok and I are on our way.

You felt tears building in your eyes as you took in a deep breath fighting off the fuzzy feeling that was slowly over taking your brain-your vision becoming slightly blurry- you couldn’t tell if it was from your mind dropping or from the tears. Why did you hang up? Why did you have to ruin the moment for Namjoon first off- secondly why did Yoongi have to tell them and why did it make you feel-used? The sound of your phone dinging again had you looking down and opening the message.

Hobi: We’re on the way to you pup-we talk things through not just hang up or not talk about how we feel in this pack. Be there soon.

You felt your chest tighten, your whimpering and whining growing with each breath you took- you dropped your head-phone falling out of your hands as you dive into your pillows. Trying to cover your sounds not knowing if your mom was still home or not. Yet your fear was confirmed as the knock on your door and her scent spilt into the room.

“Oh baby.” Your mothers voice calls out-her scent growing stronger and stronger till you move your head to look over and see her-her makeup slightly done-hair pulled back and her eyes tilted in worry. “What's wrong?”

“Made Alpha mad.” You whimpered, making her sigh as her hand reached forward as you felt her hand rubbing into your hair.

“What happened?”

“Alpha mad.” You repeated making her nod slowly as you phone went off again-the ringing made you let out an actual sob making your mom reach forward answering the ringing phone with a soft sigh.

“Hello? Yes she’s here-yeah I have to go to work…yeah I think she did….yeah I can try to wait for you guys..what happened?” You whimpered as your mother paused, once again-hand moving through your hair making you huff as you moved your head against her hand tears slowing down as you tried to ground yourself. “I think I understand. She seems very upset….yeah ten minutes? Yeah yeah okay yeah see you then bye.” Your moms lips pressed against your temple phone being placed on your nightstand as you take a deep shaky breath in. “Baby no ones mad.”

“But but..”

“No one is mad. I swear.” She whispers, making you nod softly as you feel the fuzziness lift from your mind as you take a deep breath in trying to focus on your breathing.  “They’ll be here to talk about what happened-I’m not sure what exactly happened but from what I understand miscommunication is the main issue here my baby.”  you sigh, nodding slowly as you take another deep breath in-still trying to stabilize yourself. “I’m gonna finish getting ready. I have to go in today- they’ll be here soon okay?” Nodding once again she leans forward pressing a kiss to your temple as she stands and moves out of your room-leaving your door open slightly. As you steady your breathing- one of your blankets between your legs wrapping into your hands and being kneaded between your fingers.

Suddenly a rapid knock-and the sound of the door opening had your heart rate picking up, your breathing also grew rapidly as you blinked again and again trying to stop the flow of tears. Yet they seemed to just fall when the scent of Namjoon entered your room. It had you looking up to see said Omega. Still in the same clothes he was in before- the gray shorts shuffled up slightly on one of his legs- your black hoodie wrinkled and the hood thrown over his head and glasses sliding down his nose as he looked at you. A deep whine leaving his chest as he suddenly came towards your bed-dropping onto his knees as he leaned his head onto your mattress as he let out whimpers and whines. His eyes staring at you- the way you sniffled and shuffled around- it had him huffing and puffing.

“Can I come into your nest?” His question had you nodding slowly as you nuzzled into the blanket you were kneading. His body moving to crawl over you, the way his warm body moved against yours had you feeling as if you were vibrating. He fit perfectly behind you, his arms resting around your waist as his nose nuzzled into the back of your neck. Legs twisting into yours as you felt his other arms move under your neck, it had your letting out a soft whine as you quickly turned around and moved your head into his chest. The feeling of his fingers running through your hair as you take a deep shaky breath in. “You’re okay- first off we’re not mad-not at all.” he paused kissing the top of your head as you wrapped your arms around his waist as you took a deep breath in the smell of his slick still fairly thick with his natural scent. “Alpha is just upset you let your feeling build up into not wanting to to talk to us- we always talk things through okay? Always no matter if we are screaming at each other or about to fuck-we stop everything all togther and we talk everything through do you hear me pup? We'll talk it out.” He pauses as you look up at him and nod- your mind racing as you take another deep breath in. “Now I had Hoseok stay in the car. I know you probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable with him coming in here- but he said if I don't come down with you in ten minutes he was gonna come and get you.” he mumbled a small smirk curled at the end of his lips as he looks down at you. A small gleam in his eyes as you huffed and moved to nuzzle into his neck making him flinch back slightly and let out and awkward mix of a moan and a giggle. “I’m still scestive.” He breathed out making you huff a laugh as you rolled on top of him slightly the feeling of him twitching below you had you look down at his shorts watching the way he shuffled around then back up to his face as he chuckled awkwardly at you. “Sorry.”

“No..don't be, I'm sorry I made a scene and Hoseok stopped.”

“No-no sorrys about that, we can always have that type of stuff happen again-trust me they treat me very well and we are very uh active I will say. “ He words were met with an awkward giggle as you nod against his chest. “So lets pack a bag-make sure you have work clothes for the next couple of days just to be safe- and then we’ll head over to our den.” his words had you tilt your head as he smiled down at you.

“Our den?”

“Well yeah? Hoseok clears a couple draws for you in the closet to start and a whole hanging rack too- and Yoongi is talking about getting you a vanity for you to get ready at.” He paused, making you smile brightly at him-you move forward nudging your nose against his as he huffed your way. You quickly pull away til it your head at him then move forward to kiss him on the lips- your tongue swiping his lips making him moan as you felt his hips jutting against your thigh as you pull away and smile teasingly at him. “Yeah no we’re gonna get you that vanity now.” His words had you giggling as he moved to press another kiss against your lips, his hands moving to wrap around your waist and his fingers grip at your top.  Lips moving together as you pull back and let out a soft breath.

“We can pack now.” You whisper his head nodding as you smile softly at him.

“Are you still out of it?”

“Yeah a little- not too bad though.”

“Good-well after we talk things out…maybe we can finish what we were doing over the phone.” he mumbled, making you blush deeply as you pull back and nod slowly making him move forward. His body slowly made you lay back down as he leaned over you. “I’ll make sure to mark you just how I need to- god  can’t wait to see you covered.” He whispered, making your blush deepen as he chuckled, kissed your nose and rolled off you. “Now where is your bag?”

TagList:

@kth-kpoplover @alex4243 @malyxsoulpersonal @purelyecstacy @ryuyalana @nlost21 @xanny91 @barbyisafangirl @lashaysaurusrex @scentedsope @purpleheartsfortae @btsforlif @barbikatherine @mauranglc @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @keepyourdreamsalive @chimchimooo73 @channiespup @4evahevah @moonchilreneverywhere @tinieretro @caratarmy131 @milopenne @fauxthephoenix @cuteipat @lustremyg @rosexbangtan @tinyoonsblog @bitchyzombienacho @rue331 @queenc22x @sanislifealways @yourfakerthanbarbie @agustneeds @livetay84 @black-rose-29 @miriamxsworld @namjoonia @taeyohonic @thefirewasfriendly @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @juju-227592 @brit97 @slytherindigo @openup-yourmind @that-author @so-da-1 @kyrah-williams @schokoshaker 

#bts #bts x reader #bts poly #bts poly au #bts poly werewolf #bts abo #bts angst #bts yoongi #bts yoongi smut #BTS yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi x reader #bts alpha yoongi #bts hoseok #bts hoseok smut #bts hoseok angst #bts hoseok fluff #bts hoseok x reader #bts alpha hoseok #bts namjoon #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon angst #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon x reader #bts omega namjoon #bts omega reader #bts x omega reader #bts best of us #best of us #BOU

[casuallyimagining]

Fallen (1) | myg

Min Yoongi x Female Reader

Summary: If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then where does that leave you? Spurned by your ex-fiance, you seek the one person who can help. But as it turns out, the price of revenge may be a little more than you bargained for.

Genre: Fallen Angel AU, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst

Word Count: 9,208

Warnings: homelessness, abusive ex, manipulation, emotional abuse, forced isolation, major character injury, blood, mentions of critiques of organized western religion, threats of harm, brief mentions of an almost-panic attack, arguing, more to be added later

Notes: Thank you to @daechwitatamic and @madbutgloriouspond for reading through this fic and for listening to me talk about it literally every day. And thanks to @btsmosphere and @toikiii for helping me with the angst.

Fallen Masterlist | Next Part

Everything is grey. Or, at least, that’s how it feels. You rarely come this far uptown, where the trains run on elevated tracks instead of under your feet. You follow the tracks along the river. They said he’d be somewhere around here, under the el between the old Radio Shack and the bodega. Above, a train rumbles past, its speed whipping up a wind that blows your hair into your face. 

You pull your jacket closer and step over a puddle.

Honestly, uptown would be nice if it didn’t seem like it died in the 70s. But, at least near the el, everything gives off that decayed vibe. Faded posters still cling to the bricks in alleyways advertising bands that hadn’t toured in decades. Window displays for nameless stores show off mannequins dressed in clothes that would have been long out of fashion by the time you were born. 

Something glowing near one of the track supports draws your attention. It’s a metal trash can, its contents ablaze. Just behind the can, leaning against the steel support, is a man. His clothes are tattered, and as you get closer, you can see he’s sucking on a lollipop.

“Goat?” You’re almost in front of the burning can. The man doesn’t answer you, doesn't acknowledge you, he just continues to stare into the flames. “Are-are you Goat?” you try again, taking a step closer. “I’m looking for someone. I was told he’d be here–uptown under the tracks where no one comes. Some of them called him Goat.”

The man snorts derisively, a small, bitterly amused smirk appears on his lips. “Not to my face they don’t.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want,” you concede. He doesn’t seem to be upset, but you don’t want to push his buttons. “I need to talk to you.”

“No thanks, kid.”

“It’s important.”

The man–Goat, or whatever he’s called–rolls his eyes. “You humans are always so convinced you need my help.” He turns then, tossing the stick of his lollipop into the fire, and starts to walk away. “I’ll give you a piece of advice: you can’t handle it.” He throws the last thought over his shoulder, barely even turning his head.

You walk quickly to catch up. “You don’t know anything about me. I’m stronger than I look.”

As you emerge from the shadows of the el tracks, you’re able to get a better look at him. He’s slight, thin, with barely any visible muscle. His dark hair hangs long into his eyes, which are an intense shade of deep, dark brown. He doesn’t look like much, and for a moment, you think that maybe you have the wrong man. But there’s a quiet power to how he carries himself, as if he could turn into something all-powerful and terrifying in the blink of an eye. You can see it in how he walks, how he carries himself. He’s dressed like just another unhoused person, but there’s a confidence around him that would make it nearly impossible to think he’s anything else than the immovable force that he was.

“You would know a thing about being stronger than you look, I think,” you say quietly. 

He sighs and pauses beside a light pole, leaning against it and allowing you to fully catch up to him. “What do you want.” It’s not a question.

“I need something.”

He laughs, eyebrows raising in surprise. “You want a favor?”

“Not a favor. I’ll pay you.”

“You’ll pay me?”

“Anything you want.”

He shakes his head, pushing off the post and continuing to walk. This time, though, it’s much slower, as if he’s inviting you to keep up. You’re intrigued–he’s intriguing–and you aren’t about to give up yet. So you walk with him, up the street, past the dusty old bodega and into an alley.

“I don’t want anything,” he says, eyes focused ahead.

You shrug. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

He stops and turns to you, stepping close, so close that you can smell the smoke from the garbage fire on his clothes, in his hair. He inspects you, dark eyes gazing deeply into yours. “Who have you been talking to about me?”

“Your friends.”

“I don’t have friends.”

“The ones who live down here.”

Again, he laughs, stepping away from you. You can still smell the smoke of his clothes. “They’d kill me if they got the chance.” He continues walking, leading you down another side street. This one looks just as Disco Dead as the previous one. “You should watch your step. There are snakes everywhere.”

You sigh. At this rate, you’ll be dead before you convince him to help you. But you press on. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

“How?”

“You tell me.”

He hums, scrubbing a hand along his chin in thought. He shoves his other hand into the pocket of his oversized, tattered coat. “What do you want, kid?”

“Revenge. On my ex-fiance. He’s…” You shake your head. Your ex-fiance is a lot of things. And you hate all of them. 

“Real winner, eh?” He hums, turning from the alley and onto the avenue. 

The shops here are just as old, the signs just as peeling and time-worn, but some of these are open. Their doors are propped open and music–a strange cacophony of reggae, latin fusion, and jazz–floats out onto the street from old boomboxes. Judging by the advertisements in the windows, these storefronts were stuck somewhere in the 90s. An improvement, but not quite enough.

Finally, he stops just outside of a run down electronics store. The front window still has a CRT tv that’s hooked up to a security camera filming the street. You and the man are reflected back in the screen. He’s standing so close to you that the sleeves of his tattered coat brush against your arm. 

“Sure, okay,” he says finally, the corners of his lips turning up in a smirk. 

For a moment, you’re taken aback. That was… much easier than you had expected it to be. Your shock must be evident on your face, because then he says, “What do you need?”

Carefully, you collect yourself, school your face into something you hope is a neutral expression. “I just want him to suffer.”

He whistles lowly, fluffing his hair. “Doesn’t exactly give me a lot to go off.”

“Can you do it or not?”

Briefly, he looks amused. His smirk turns into a smile. It’s soft, and it’s a little cocky, but it sets your mind at ease a little bit. “Might take a bit to get it right, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I want him ruined,” you say softly, taking a step closer. “Personally and professionally. Just like he did to me.”

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”

“Thank you, Goat.” You smile, and he smiles back. A wide, gummy thing that seems to show off all the teeth in his mouth. “Or, I guess…?”

“Yoongi. Call me Yoongi.”

It’s amazing how cold it’s gotten in the span of a couple weeks. It hasn’t snowed yet, but you can definitely tell that it’s going to soon. There’s something about the smell of the air, how the wind feels as it whips its way under the el tracks. The puddles under the track from the water and moisture dripping from the trains look frigid. You step around one and approach the man standing at the burning trash can.

He looks cold, too. He’s wearing the same tattered coat as last time, and now you notice the places where you can see his shirt through the holes. You wonder if he has anything else he could wear, any other layers he could put on now that it’s getting cold. You wonder if he has anywhere to go when the temperatures start to dip at night, somewhere other than huddled around a Hooverville fire. 

He smiles as you get closer, much different from the indifferent glare he’d fixed you with the first time, and you warm a little bit. It’s sweet, the half-grin he shoots your way, almost as if he’s excited to see you. You’d tried to keep your distance over the past few weeks, despite the fact that you’d been practically bursting at the seams to know how things were progressing. But that doesn’t mean you hadn’t seen him at all.

He’d wandered past your work a few days ago. You couldn’t be quite sure, but you were pretty sure he’d actually floated past the front windows of the bar. But he’d paused and waved, and you’d waved back only for your coworkers to look at you like you were crazy.

So there was a 50/50 chance that Yoongi was actually just a figment of your revenge-addled imagination. But you know. That’s what happens when you cavort with a fallen angel. C’est la vie. 

“Kid. You came.” He greets you cheerfully, his eyes focusing down on the fire in front of him. He reaches down beside him and grabs a small stack of papers–old posters and some trash, from the looks of it–and drops them into the flames. Sparks fly up, and you watch them glitter in his eyes. “I’m a little surprised, to be honest.”

“Well, it’s hard to ignore a creepy text from an unknown number asking you to meet under the el at nearly sundown.” You shrug. “You really should sign your texts. Or, I don’t know. Give me your number.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and scoffs, but you could swear his cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink than they already were.

The wind picks up, touseling his hair and chilling you to your core. You push your bag further up onto your shoulder and shove your hands deep into the pockets of your coat. Yoongi steps closer to the fire, visibly shivering, and again, you find yourself concerned for him. But before you can say anything, he clears his throat.

“I think I’m going to need some more details about what he did to you,” he says softly. You bristle at his words. Brown eyes find yours, and you can sense that he hates having to ask. 

You sigh. You’d hoped to be able to get through this without having to tell him about any of it. You’d done a lot of healing in the time since leaving your fiance, but so much of it still stung–and some of it, you were still dealing with the fallout. You’d thought that because of who he was, you wouldn’t have to tell Yoongi anything.

“I thought you could just sense that stuff.”

He frowns. “I can tell when it’s enough to balance out the universe. But I need to know what I’m balancing for.”

“What have you tried so far?”

“Admittedly not much just yet.” Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck. “I started small to test the waters. But between his keys disappearing and his clocks never being the correct time, he’ll never be on-time ever again. I’ve also crashed his computer several times and wiped a few important files. He’ll need them in a few days. He’s currently up for a promotion, but uh… not after his boss finds out that the reports for three of their biggest clients are gone.”

You hum. It’s a start. Your ex-fiance was incredibly dedicated to his job. You’d loved that about him, back when you loved him. So it did give you a sick sense of satisfaction to know that slowly, his job was slipping through his fingertips. But…

“It’s not enough,” you say sharply. “You need to go further.”

“Right. That’s why I was hoping you could give me more information.”

“Well, I…” You sigh. Where the hell do you even start? How the hell do you even start? You look around. The surrounding buildings are still grey, still decaying, still… damp. You can’t see them, but somewhere nearby, someone is rooting around in a dumpster. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware of how cold it is, and how stinging the wind is, and how exposed you are. You rub your arm. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Yoongi watches you, and some emotion crosses his eyes. But you can’t tell what it is, and it’s gone before you can really even analyze it. Silently, he nods and holds out his hand. You think that maybe he’s going to lead you away again, on a goose chase through the weird eras of this part of uptown. But he doesn’t. 

Brown eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and then a warm wind picks up, blowing Yoongi’s long hair into his eyes. Your stomach lurches and then something soft rises up to meet you. You open your eyes–when did you close them?--and suddenly, you’re no longer under the el.

There’s a clatter off to your left, and the ding of a bell. Distantly, you hear someone ask “You want some more coffee, hun?” The surface under you is soft, but not so soft to be mistaken for comfortable. Yoongi sits across from you, a smug smirk on his lips.

A diner. You’re in a diner. It’s fairly busy, too, and for a moment, you’re worried that someone noticed the two of you just appearing out of nowhere in a booth. But shockingly, no one is even looking in your direction.

“How…?”

Yoongi shrugs. “People see what they want.”

“Oh… okay.” 

You settle into the vinyl seating, resting your hands against the table. The formica surface is sticky and you recoil in disgust. Yoongi watches you, his cat-like eyes following your movements with curiosity. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the clinking of dishes and the noises from the kitchen. 

A waitress flutters back and forth between the tables and the stools at the counter, taking orders and pouring coffee. She either hasn’t noticed you’re there or she doesn’t see you at all. Quite frankly, neither would shock you. Another order appears in the window with a ding and the waitress spins to place the plate in front of a man at the counter. 

After a second, she approaches your table to take your order. You aren’t particularly hungry, but Yoongi orders a plate of fries and a slice of cake to share. She pours Yoongi a cup of coffee and promises to return with a glass of water for you and then she’s gone.

“So.” Yoongi clears his throat and leans on his hand. He studies you curiously. His voice is soft when he next speaks. “I really do need to know what he did to you, kid.”

You sigh. It wasn’t surprising, but that didn’t make it any less difficult to talk about. Your fiance had been terrific at first. Loving. Loyal. Kind. You’d known him since college, had seen him go from gangly, awkward first-year to second in his class in one of the country’s most prestigious law schools. You’d watched him graduate, had been there when he was named partner, celebrated every raise and promotion as he climbed the ladder. But slowly, over time, he’d changed.

“He used to be lovely,” you admit softly, dragging a finger through the condensation on the glass of water the waitress sat in front of you. “But somewhere along the way, he changed. Or maybe he was always like this and I didn’t notice. I don’t know.”

“Sometimes people hide who they are.”

“After a while, I realized that I wasn’t myself anymore. There was nothing about me at that point that didn’t revolve around him. I hadn’t seen my friends in over a year. I was completely dependent on him financially. He’d gotten me a job at his firm, we lived in a nice apartment near the river. But I didn’t want to only be Song Dawoon’s wife for the rest of my life. And when I left, I…” You shrug, hands falling into your lap. “Well, he showed me, I guess.”

“He took it all away?”

You nod. “My whole life, gone in less than 24 hours.”

“Your friends?”

“Turns out he’d been feeding them lies.”

Yoongi hums deeply and frowns. And when the waitress returns at that precise moment with a plate of fries, he jumps slightly at the clatter. When she’s gone, he leans closer, no longer resting on his hand. He picks up a fry and inspects it briefly before popping it into his mouth. He makes a face, though you can’t necessarily tell why. You consider for the first time that maybe he’d never eaten before.

Gently, he pushes the plate toward you. “Eat,” he coaxes softly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. But now that I know, I can change tactics.” He sighs, his eyes falling to the plate as he traces the edge. “I’ll make sure he gets what’s deserved.”

Things go silent. Yoongi coaxes you to eat again, but other than that, the sounds of the diner take over. Slowly, the fries disappear. You try not to watch him–or, at least, you try not to be too obvious about watching him. He’s warmed up in the diner, his full cheeks no longer bright pink and windbitten, but you worry about when you leave. 

What happens then?

Does he have somewhere to go to get out of the cold? Does he stay in a tent in the encampment under the el? Does he go to a shelter? Or does he huddle by the trash can fire through the night? His clothes are so thin, there’s no way they protect him from the cold. Does he even get cold?  

You barely notice when the waitress comes to take away the plate and replace it with another, this one topped with a slice of cake large enough for two. Again, Yoongi nudges the plate in your direction, but you let him have the first bite. He practically melts when his lips close around his fork, and suddenly you’re struck with a thought. 

You would like to know more about him.

It’s weird, and a little random. But you want to know more about what he likes and what he doesn’t. You’re curious about his past, though you aren’t sure you’d ever be brave enough to ask. But he’s fascinating, you’re fascinated by him, and so you smile gently at him when you stab into your side of the cake. He returns it warmly, and it reflects in his eyes.

The days pass quickly, and soon enough, it’s almost a week later. For reasons you can’t quite figure out, you’ve seen Yoongi for the majority of the days after your impromptu trip to the diner. Or, perhaps seen isn’t the right word. Anyone else, you would say you’d been hanging out with them. But with Yoongi, that didn’t seem quite right.

He’d shown up at the bar. You’d assumed that he wanted to tell you about his most recent attempts at bringing enough justice to Dawoon to rattle his teeth. But he sat down at the corner of the bar and watched you curiously while you served the customers that were there before him. When you finally made your way toward him, he shot you a warm smile.

You’d only spoken a few words to him when it became abundantly clear that you were the only one that could see him. Your coworkers eyed you warily, and the other patrons sitting at the bar were looking at you like you were the drunk one. You whispered a soft “Stick around. I’m closing,” to him and promptly ignored him for the rest of the night.

Which is how you ended up here. With the bar’s sound system blasting late 90s pop while you pile dishes into the dishwasher. Yoongi perches on the countertop beside you, dark eyes watching you curiously as you place cups into the tray for washing.

“Is there a reason why I’m the only one who can see you?” you finally ask. It’d been bothering you all night, and now seems as good a time as any to ask.

He shrugs, and for a moment, you think he’s going to answer, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you hit start on the dishwasher and follows you back out to the bar. “You humans are… complicated,” he says cryptically, as if that’s supposed to answer your question.

You hum. Ain’t that the truth.

He stands behind you as you take stock, checking the bottles behind the bar to see what’s low. Gingerly, he picks up a bottle of bar brand rum and inspects the label. “Why do humans drink this?” he asks, voice quiet.

It’s your turn to shrug. “Celebration. Relaxation. Happiness. Sadness. For fun. To forget.”

“That’s a lot of contradictions.”

“Humans are complicated.”

He grunts and falls silent, putting the rum back behind the bar.

It’s a day later, and Yoongi is following you around once again. It’s weird how comfortable it is. He’s in your apartment, beside you in the kitchen. You’d been right in the diner–he hadn’t tried many human foods. He didn’t really need to eat. But he had a sweet tooth, and that was the extent of his experimentation.

Mercifully, it’s your day off, and you’ve taken the time to expose Yoongi to breakfast foods–waffles, you argue, are among humankind’s greatest creations. You had set him to task cutting up melon, and truthfully, you’re a little worried he’s going to cut his finger off. But it turns out that he’s a natural with a knife, and you aren’t sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But he chats with you while he cuts into the juicy green flesh, the thwack, thwack, thwack of the knife a nice rhythmic background to the conversation.

“It’s why the trains are always late,” he explains, his voice quiet, but sage. Somehow–you weren’t entirely sure how–he’d gotten on the topic of rail infrastructure. You hadn’t exactly been able to follow his logic, but his voice is nice, the slight gravel to it is soothing, and you think that maybe, you could listen to him talk for hours about nothing. Which is a strange thought because a month ago, you hadn’t even known his name.

The waffle maker beeps, and when you open it, the steam swirls out from a perfectly golden brown waffle. You pour more batter in and shut and lock the plates.

“Why do they call you Goat?” you ask quietly. It’s sudden, and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Yoongi’s knife and the every-so-often ding! of the waffle maker. Suddenly, you’re struck with the idea that maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me.” You can feel yourself clamming up. “I was just curious. That’s all.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay, kid.” He waves you off with a sigh. “Those snakes will do anything to humiliate me. I’m a joke to them.” Yoongi shrugs, his lips flattening into a line. “Goat. Not good enough for the guys up top. Not bad enough for the ones down below.”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You hadn’t considered that maybe the nickname was mean. “I didn’t know they were making fun of you.”

“How could you?” He shrugs, pushing the sliced melon onto a plate. “They’re assholes, not worthy of my time.”

“Still–I’m sorry you have to go through it. It’s not fair to you.”

The waffle maker beeps again and you pull the last fluffy piece from the plates before unplugging it. You hand Yoongi the syrup and push the slightly cooled waffle in his direction. Warily, he pours some syrup and tears a piece off the waffle. He eats, humming lowly after a second and nodding his head.

“It’s good,” he confirms, flashing you a smile and licking some syrup off his thumb.

You feel yourself stand a little straighter, a small smile spreading across your face. He dives back in, tearing off another piece of waffle.

“Oh!” He finishes chewing before continuing. “I have some updates if you want them?” 

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“I took what you said, and I gave it some thought. So first of all, he’s now only telling his friends and coworkers the truth. Which is fun. His secretary already wants to kill him.” You nod, no longer interested in your own meal. “And I’m working on slowly rearranging his files. Not the public ones. I’m not trying to get a paralegal fired. But his files and notes. Choi, Park, and Park are very annoyed with him.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good.”

“You don’t seem too happy, kid.”

“It’s just…” You sigh. It’s weird. You’re happy that Dawoon is getting what he deserves. So why do you have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach? You shrug. It doesn’t matter. “Humans are complicated.”

You sigh and flop down onto your couch, throwing your phone down beside you. It’s been nearly a week, and you haven’t heard a single peep from Yoongi. You feel a little dumb for how it’s affecting you, but how else are you supposed to feel? He’d spent three weeks practically glued to your side, visiting you at the bar, following you around the city while you ran errands. You’d introduced him to some of your favorite foods. It’s stupid–after everything, you still only barely knew him–but you considered him a friend.

But now, for the second time in as many years, you find yourself alone and frustrated and feeling like the world’s biggest fool. Yoongi doesn’t have the capacity to hurt you as deeply as Dawoon’s betrayal had, but that doesn't mean that it doesn’t sting.

You’d met Dawoon during your first-year orientation in college. He was assigned to your group for the weekend. He’d been squirrely and awkward, and had followed you like a puppy around campus during the tour and all the first-year activities. But by the time classes started that Monday, you were fond of him. By the end of your first year, you were dating. By the end of his first year of law school, you’d moved in together.

He had been your best friend. He’d brought you coffee for every late night study session. He’d held you while you cried when the stress of your senior thesis got to be too much. He’d helped you relax during spring break the year you managed to burn yourself out so much that you considered dropping out. Dawoon had been there for every up and every down, and you’d loved him for it. 

You aren’t sure when things started to change. Only that, at some point into your nine-year relationship, they had. You woke up one morning, completely alone, and realized that you weren’t happy. It had been a long time since Dawoon had told you he loved you, and an even longer time since you’d felt like more than just arm candy. When you’d brought it up to him–that you felt like you weren’t an equal participant in the relationship, that you felt like he mattered more than you did–he’d gotten angry. So angry, that he’d almost hit you. So you’d left. Broke off the engagement, packed your bags, and left.

24 hours later, your life was gone, burnt down around you. Your boss, your friends, all tricked by Dawoon’s lies. That was almost a year and a half ago. 

You were finally starting to feel like a person again, and Yoongi was a big part of it. And now, he’s gone, too.

At the beginning of the week, you’d been surprised–sad, even–that Yoongi hadn’t popped up sometime throughout the day. But you’d gone to bed that night content in the assumption that perhaps he was busy with your favor or someone else’s, and that the next day, you would see his lopsided smile as he floated into the bar during your shift.

But no such luck. A day passes, and you go from surprised to worried. Where could he possibly be? You hope that he isn’t frozen somewhere, never to be seen again.

Three more days pass, and you find yourself getting angrier–both at Yoongi and yourself. Why hasn’t he even tried to contact you? What could he possibly be doing that he couldn’t answer a single one of your texts? Or one of your calls? Or even just float by the bar when you’re working to let you know he’s alive?

Why hadn’t you offered to buy him a new coat? You knew his was in tatters. You knew the nights were getting colder. You could have offered your couch.

That anger festered, and now you’re pissed. At Yoongi. At yourself. At the world. Thankfully, you don’t have to completely start over again, but there’s something just as crushing about finding yourself alone again. It’s not productive, your anger, so you channel it into something more positive.

You clean. The whole apartment. Top to bottom. Starting with your bedroom and working through the bathroom and the kitchen. You blast the punk music from your early teen years on your phone and set about the living room, dusting your bookshelves and reorganizing the contents. 

You’re almost ready to get out the mop and bucket when you hear a ‘thud’ against your door. Just one, and not very loud. You’ve almost decided to ignore it–it’s late, and your apartment is between enough bars that drunks falling into your door is not uncommon–when the soft knock comes, slow but deliberate. It persists, despite your efforts to get back to your cleaning, and finally, you can’t take it any more.

You march to the door, throwing it open violently. “What?” you snap before even getting a look at the knocker.

The person falls forward, and you catch them easily, grunting under the dead weight of their body. Through slashes in the man’s jacket, you can see what you think is blood–golden and viscous against lightly tanned skin–sticking what’s left of a sweater to a bruised and battered body. You hold him carefully, pushing black hair away from his face. Something inside of you knows already, but you need to be sure. 

“Yoongi?” Your heart sinks. “What happened? Where have you been?”

He splutters a bit and sags in your arms. You struggle to maneuver him further into your apartment, shutting the door behind you. “Snakes,” he manages, wincing as you nudge his arm around your shoulders. 

You frown, helping him slowly hobble out of your doorway and into the living room. Your goal is the bedroom, if you can make it. He would probably be better off on the bed if you can get him there. Snakes. They told you they were his friends. He’d warned you about them. Said they’d kill him if they ever got the chance. You suppose he was right.

Together, you limp halfway through the living room before Yoongi groans. “Gotta lay down, kid.”

“The bed’ll be more comfortable.” He grunts, and you can tell he won’t be able to make it that far. “Couch, then?”

He stumbles, and you almost lose your grip on him, but you manage to keep him upright. “Floor. Please.”

Gently, you ease him to the floor, pushing your ottoman out of the way so he doesn’t have to curl up. You pull the pillows off the couch, kneeling down to lift his head and slip one under so he’s comfortable.

“Do you need a blanket?” you ask softly, rushing out of the room. 

He grunts out a ‘no,’ but you grab him one anyway, and a glass of water–though if you’re honest, you have no idea how he’s going to drink it laying face-down on the floor, but it seems right–and then a straw because that makes more sense and rush back. You sit beside him on the floor and place your collection around you so you can reach any of it should he need.

You reach out, hesitating just slightly before your hand touches his hair. You don’t want to hurt him. But then he groans and curls slightly in on himself from the pain, and you think that maybe you can’t hurt him any more than he already is. So gently, ever so gently, you lower your hand into the inky blackness of his hair. It’s wet from sweat and sticky from blood–there’s a gash on his temple that his long hair can’t help but get stuck in–but you smooth it down anyway, away from his face.

You stand and return moments later with a bowl full of lukewarm water and a rag. “They really kicked the shit out of you, huh?” you ask softly, wringing out the rag and dabbing it against the cut on his temple. Yoongi hisses in pain and recoils. “I know, I’m sorry,” you murmur, using your other hand to smooth his hair down. “Who are they?”

“Demons,” he groans, dark eyes barely opening to look at you. “I was doing a job over by the harbor on Wednesday and they jumped me.”

“Wednesday?” you exclaim, washing out the rag and wringing it again. You move to his left shoulder, where three terribly bruised scratches run from his clavicle across his shoulder blade and down his black. “Yoongi, that was three days ago.”

He flinches when the rag hits his skin and you apologize softly. His sweater and coat fall apart in your fingers as you try to clean his wounds. You finish cleaning his back, wiping the dirt and blood and grime out of the scratches. You can see where they’re already starting to heal, where they’re already scabbing over and the flesh is growing back. You imagine that, among the other special abilities he has, he heals faster than a human. Which is good for him, because you weren’t kidding. He looks like shit.

“You good?” You stroke his hair again, pushing it back away from his eyes. 

He nods ever so slightly, deep brown eyes meeting yours briefly before he winces in pain. “I’ll be okay.”

“Not gonna die?”

Yoongi scoffs, then lets out a low groan. “Looking to get rid of me, kid?”

“Never.” You fluff his hair and stand. “I’ll be right back. Yell if you need me.”

He calls your name before you’re even out of the room and you turn to him. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

He gestures vaguely, barely lifting his arm from the floor, but you get the idea. For taking him in. For taking care of him. For making him feel like a person.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, and pat the door frame. You disappear into your bedroom before he can say anything else.

You throw open your closet, flicking through the hangers, searching for one in particular. Somewhere in here’s an old sweater, one of the only things you managed to take with you after Dawoon, stuffed into your suitcase. It’s cream colored, you remember, chunky knit. You haven’t seen the sweater in over a year, but it’s got to be in here somewhere.

You tug it off the hanger in triumph just as a thud sounds in the living room. There’s a flapping noise, like a sheet shaken to remove the wrinkles. Confused, you slowly creep back out. There, lying precisely where you’d left him, is Yoongi. Except now, sprawled to either side of him is a pair of feathery black wings.

“Yoongi?” you question softly, stepping into the living room clutching the sweater to your chest.

His head turns away from you. “I couldn’t keep them in any longer. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine. I brought you a sweater. Your clothes are ruined.” He grunts. “If you’re feeling up to it, I can help you into it.” Your eyes widen. There was probably a less weird way to phrase that. “Because of your shoulder. It’s kind of really fucked up.”

He snorts, a light laugh leaving his lips, and then winces. “Thanks.”

You sink to the floor beside him, hand finding his hair once again. “Are you… you’re sure you’re going to be okay?” 

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods, and with a groan, rolls onto his side. He’s facing you now, one wing draped over his body and partially in your lap. “Don’t worry too much about me, kid. I’ve been through worse.”

Something about that breaks your heart. Maybe because you can tell. It’s the tone of his voice, but also it’s how mangled and damaged his wings are, and how you could see scars on his back under the scratches from the demons. He’s seen much worse than this.

Your fingertips brush against his wing gently and the feathers twitch away. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He sounds tired, his voice husky and ragged. “No one’s ever touched them before.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh.” His brows furrow. “It’s okay. It didn’t hurt.”

Something about his tone gives you pause. Ever so gently, you run your fingers through the feathers of his wings. It’s purposeful this time, and he doesn’t flinch away. In fact, he practically purrs, a deep exhale leaving him.

You can tell that his wings used to be beautiful. Closer up, the feathers are a dark grey, and most of them are still glossy. It’s just that… there are patches where there are no feathers, and places where you can see the bony protrusions that make up the physical structure of the wing. Some of the feathers are bent and broken, some are crushed, the soft, downy tendrils clumped together.

But despite everything, the feathers are soft and delicate, and they run through your fingers like water. You trace a scar along the ridge of his wing, the tip of your finger dragging through the feathers slowly, and at first, he jumps a little bit, but he quickly relaxes.

“Hey Yoongi?” you ask softly, your focus on the feathers resting against your leg. He hums an acknowledgement. You can feel his eyes on the side of your head. His curiosity is back. He must be starting to feel better. “How’d you…” You sigh and gather some courage. “How’d you fall?”

“Ah.” 

“It’s just… you said that you weren’t good enough for them, right? But the demons clearly aren’t…”

“Not my biggest fans, no.”

“So, I just…”

When you finally look at him, you’re struck by how beautiful he is. Not just in a ‘you’re pretty’ way–which, admittedly, he’s that, too. But in a ‘you’re fascinating’ sort of way. Everything about him seems contradictory. His eyes–sharp, catlike, ever observant–sit above a soft button nose, round cheeks, pouty lips. His wings are so beautiful, yet so broken. Even his words, which were sharp when you first met him, are now much softer and friendlier. Sharp and soft. It suits him, somehow.

His dark eyes watch you watch him. And though his face says he’s irritated, his eyes glisten with mirth. He enjoys watching you fumble, apparently, and you recognize that you should be more annoyed by that, but truthfully, you’re happy that he’s feeling well enough to even entertain the thought of mischief. A small smile spreads across his lips, and you find yourself smiling back at him.

“Okay,” he grunts, shifting himself closer awkwardly.

“What are you–? Be careful!” you chide gently, confused by his actions. 

He finally seems to settle when he’s laying perpendicular to you. His head lands in your lap and you freeze, arms raised in surprise. Yoongi readjusts slightly to get more comfortable against your thigh. He stretches his wing out–the tips of his feathers brushing against the ceiling–and winces slightly with the movement.

When he’s settled in, he sighs. “I didn’t fall. I was pushed. They don’t really tolerate dissent. Even if you’re right.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s really not that deep of a story, kid. Top brass and I had some disagreements, that’s all.”

“Such as?”

He hums. “Oh you know. Just some minor things.” He rolls slightly so he can look you in the face. “I have these radical ideas where I think people should be kind to everyone and that everyone is worthy of respect.”

You finally drop your hands, and they find the feathers on the ridge of his wing. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of such an extremist.”

“Yeah well.” He grunts, using his arm to push himself upright. He wobbles a little bit when he’s fully vertical, and you reach out a hand to hold him steady. “When the big guy said ‘Love thy neighbor’, he didn’t really leave room for exceptions.”

You hum, your hand falling from Yoongi’s arm when you’re satisfied that he won’t fall over. He stretches, wings folding behind his back with a surprising amount of grace. It strikes you in that moment that he didn’t need to come here, didn’t need you to stitch him up. He could do it all on his own, quicker than you could have ever taken care of him. The scratches on his shoulder are already healed over–they’re still pink and inflamed, sure, but they aren’t bleeding anymore. You wonder how long it took for his pain to go away. So then why…?

“Why’d you come here?” The question is out of your mouth before you can even register it’s a bad idea. 

“What?”

“I mean, I’m just a human. I haven’t done shit for you.”

“That’s not true.” His brow furrows. “You brought me a sweater.” He reaches forward to grab the forgotten top.

“That’s not a lot. You did most of the work.”

He shrugs the sweater on, the cream material falling loosely over his torso. Somehow, his wings poke out of the back just fine, even though there are no holes for them. You’re curious, but you also aren’t about to ask him about it. The sweater is big on him, oversized in that two-sizes-too-big sort of way. 

“It’s a lot to me,” he says quietly.

Was he always sitting this close? Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his knee touching yours and how his fingers are barely brushing your own. Deep brown eyes meet yours, his attention flickering quickly downwards before dragging back up to your eyes, like it took a great effort. And then he’s leaning in. Or maybe you’re leaning in. Both of you? It doesn’t matter. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Can he hear it? He can probably hear it.

He’s millimeters from you, you can feel his breath fanning across your face. “Can I kiss you?” He asks it so softly, it’s barely audible, even from this distance. 

You don’t even think. You just nod.

His lips meet yours, and it’s like all of the air is sucked from your lungs. It’s quick–he breaks it far too soon–and you’re admittedly a little lightheaded. He doesn’t get far, though, before you’re pulling him closer again, hand cradling his jaw. His lips are slightly chapped, and he moves gently against you. Not too fast, not too forceful. It’s almost as if he’s hesitant. But then he adjusts how he’s sitting and pulls you ever so slightly closer.

When you finally pull apart, your face feels warm. Yoongi’s looking at you, dark eyes swimming with some emotion that you can’t really place. But it’s gooey and soft, and the warmth spreads from your face to your whole body. No one had looked at you like that since… well, since Dawoon, and really, it had been a long time for even that. Yoongi offers you a small smile, and you return it, suddenly very nervous. He stretches his legs out in front of him, hand brushing yours once again.

What in the world are you supposed to do now? You didn’t think you were so far over Dawoon’s betrayal that you were ready to kiss… anyone, let alone Yoongi.

“You uh…” You cough, feeling very awkward, and fumble for the right thing to say. “You want to watch a movie?”

When you wake up, you aren’t sure what time it is. It’s weird. You remember the movie–an old Scooby Doo made-for-tv special from your childhood–and sitting beside Yoongi on the floor. You remember the shuffle of his wings as he got comfortable–the couch apparently too rigid for the sensitive appendages. You remember how he tried to hide his laughter behind his hand, but the shaking of his shoulders gave it away.

What you don’t remember is falling asleep.

But it’s now morning, early light streaming through the windows. The tv is off, and there’s a blanket thrown over your shoulders. Your apartment is so quiet you can hear the foot traffic on the sidewalk outside. Where’s Yoongi? You push yourself up off the floor, squinting as you look around. You check your bedroom, and the kitchen, and the bathroom, and he’s nowhere. He’s just… gone.

You sigh and collapse onto the couch, heart and stomach somewhere in your ankles. You feel sick. This is different from when you were angry and worried about him. Now, you’re just angry. 

How dare he? How dare he make you worry about him? How dare he show up on your doorstep without warning like that? How dare he make you care? 

How dare he kiss you like that and leave without a word?

Something stings behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut, letting your head fall to hit the back of the couch. How could you be so stupid? After Dawoon, you’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself get invested like that again. It only led to this. Sitting alone, a mysterious stinging in your eyes, wondering what you did wrong.

You grit your teeth and give yourself another ten seconds to wallow in self-pity. And then you stand. You promised a coworker you’d cover her lunch shift at the bar today. You can’t afford to miss it. Plus, you do better when you don’t have time to dwell on things.

Unfortunately, the bar is dead. You count the glassware at least a dozen times. You wipe down the bar more times than you can count. You wipe down every bottle in the well and on display, double-check the kegs, restock the bottled beer in the fridge. A few hours into the shift and you’re faced with the fact that it’s not as good a distraction as you had hoped. Thankfully, there are at least a couple patrons, and since there are no servers staffed for the lunch shift, you’re forced to take care of them. 

You’re grateful for the customers, grateful for something to do, for the outlet. But then the door opens, and you throw a quick “Sit anywhere! I’ll be with you in a sec!” over your shoulder as you pop into the kitchen to grab one of the table’s appetizers. When you emerge, you nearly drop the nachos you’re carrying.

At a table in the corner sits a face you’d rather forget. He’s tall, and handsome–a far cry from the spindly first-year you’d met a decade ago. His black hair is a little shaggy, perfectly styled to be out of his face. He wears a suit, no doubt it cost him more than your entire month’s pay, tips included.

Song Dawoon.

You steel yourself, take a second to plaster the customer service smile back on your face, and step out onto the floor. You drop the nachos off at the correct table without spilling a single chip, despite the fact that your hands are shaking like you’re experiencing your own personal earthquake. You promise to refill the man’s Jack and Coke, and then you take a breath and step toward Dawoon’s table.

“What can I get you?” you ask through your best plastered-on smile.

Dawoon looks up at you, a sickly sweet grin on his face. “How have you been? I didn’t know you worked here!”

Sure he didn’t.

“Sit down,” he suggests, kicking out the chair across from him. 

“No thanks.”

“Sit. Let’s talk.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for questions.

Cautiously, you sit. Your leg starts to bounce. Between the anger from this morning and your nerves now, you’re dizzy and nauseated. It’s a big city. You’d hoped that you’d never have the displeasure of seeing Dawoon again.

“The funniest thing has happened to me,” he says, leaning forward, his fingers steepled. “I’ve been having the worst luck lately. My keys disappear. My clocks are all broken. My files are disappearing. And you’ll never believe this, but all of my clients keep forgetting my name.” He hums and shakes his head. “It’s strange. Almost supernatural. Like if someone hired a vengeful spirit. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

You shrug. “Not at all.”

“See, that’s the thing. I think maybe you do.” He beckons you closer, but you don’t move. His voice is dark. You’d only ever heard him like this once before.

The day he swung at you.

“I think,” he continues, voice low, “you know a lot about it. I’m not quite sure how, but if I figure out how you’re ruining my career, you’ll have to pick up the pieces three states over.”

“You know, that’s really rich coming from you.” You stand, the chair scraping from behind you. You take a deep breath. “I think you should leave now.”

It takes everything in you to walk away with your head held high. Your legs are shaking by the time you get back behind the bar, and as soon as you’re safe in the kitchen, you sink to the floor. The cook eyes you warily but says nothing, simply hands you a glass of water and goes back behind the prep station. 

The room is spinning. Your chest is tight. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re afraid it’ll pop out of your chest and flop around on the floor like a fish. The door to the kitchen swings open and shut, open and shut, a dull throb that barely registers somewhere in the back of your mind. Your hands shake as you take a sip of the water. Someone pats your shoulder as they pass by.

It takes ten minutes for you to breathe normally again, and another five for your blood pressure to return to that of an alive human being. You stand, give the kitchen staff a nervous nod in thanks, and sneak back out into the bar. By now, Amy–the other bartender–has clocked in. A quick glance around the room eases your nerves. Dawoon is gone. The other patrons are still there, but Dawoon is no longer sitting in the corner. 

You lean against the bar and sigh. And then you pull yourself together and finish your shift.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. You’re drained. You want nothing more than to sleep for a week, take a hot bath, and drink an entire bottle of red wine. And not necessarily in that order. You collapse onto the couch, television remote in hand. Despite your exhaustion, you’re still wired. 

In the glow of your tv’s home screen, you see something glossy on the floor at your feet and reach down to pick it up. Something soft brushes your fingertips, and when you finally grab it and inspect it, you’re face-to-face to a single dark grey feather.

Your head falls, hitting the plush back of the couch. You feel your eyes start to sting again. It’s all too much.

A noise to your left startles you–the sound of a blanket being shaken to get the wrinkles out. You squeeze your eyes shut briefly. Of course the universe is forcing you to do this now. 

When he says your name, it’s barely a whisper–deep, gravelly, it matches the early hour. Stubbornly, you ignore him, your eyes squeezed shut. Maybe, if you don’t acknowledge him, he’ll go away. But then you hear him step closer, and you’re jumping to your feet.

“What are you doing here?” you question him sharply.

“I wanted to check on you, I-”

“Why?”

“Song Dawoon, he’s-” Yoongi frowns. “You’re upset.” He takes a step forward. “Why are you upset?”

You scoff. “Don’t talk to me about him.”

He looks confused, dark eyes clouding over with questions. And for a moment, your heart flutters. But then a part of you–the angry part–reminds you that you’d woken up this morning alone. And an even larger part of you reminds you that Dawoon knows somehow, and you grit your teeth.

“You left me alone.” Your eyes sting again, and you try to blink it away. Now is not the time. “You left me alone and I had to deal with him by myself.”

Something akin to worry crosses Yoongi’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter!” You’re exasperated, and you can feel your heart rate increasing–you try to take deep breaths despite the fact that your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed. “Don’t you get it? He ruined my life because we weren’t in love any more. He took it personally that I wouldn’t stick around and enjoy our perfect, abusive relationship. He told my boss I was selling information to a rival firm and got me fired. He told my friends that I talked shit behind their backs and made them hate me. He took away my entire support system and kicked me out on my ass and he’s still coming after me.” You take a shaky breath and force yourself to stare Yoongi down. 

“I didn’t know. You didn’t say-”

“Of course I didn’t! Why would I want to relive the worst months of my life? God, I…” You throw up your hands and turn away. “How useless are you? I thought you were supposed to be able to sense this stuff? Maybe not the specifics, but at least the severity, or… or something!”

“I-”  

It’s all too much. Yoongi standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Him leaving, Dawoon’s threats. You can’t take it anymore. 

“You need to…” You take a deep breath, force your voice to steady, blink away the stinging. “Thank you for your help, but unfortunately, I don’t think this will work.”

“What-”

You hold up a hand, cutting him off. “I won’t be needing your help anymore. You can go.”

“But I…” Yoongi’s brow furrows, and you watch as he deflates. His shoulders sag, and something changes in how he stands there. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s there not to understand? I don’t need your help anymore. We never have to see each other again.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Go.”

He nods, black hair falling in front of his face. His eyes are downcast, but you think you see a shine in them that wasn’t there before. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before speaking again. “Okay.” His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “Okay. Well… I guess this is it then.”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

He’s gone in a flap of invisible wings, and suddenly, it’s dead quiet in your apartment. You stand there for a moment, silent, unsure what to do next. And then something in you breaks, and you sink to the floor in front of your ottoman. Tears well in your eyes, and it’s barely a second before you’re sobbing into your hands. 

He was still wearing your sweater.

Fallen Masterlist | Next Part

thank you for reading. I have no idea when part two will be out--I don't normally do this, but I couldn't wait to get part one out, so I'm still working on the rest. I'd love to hear what you thought about this part! it might even inspire me to finish the fic!

Check Out my Masterlist

#min yoongi #yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga #suga x reader #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst #fallen angel au #fallen angel yoongi #bts angst #bts fluff #bts suga angst #bts suga fluff #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff

[hongjoongscafe]

3+1=?

Chapter: 01 {Serieslist}

|In the 3+1= four|

Pairing: widower!yoongi×widower!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, single parent AU.

Summary: life has been cruel to them. Heartbroken and sad when they stumbled towards each other. Will they be able to heal their heart?

Warnings: mention of death (it will be there for the entire fic)

Word count: 2.3k+

Masterpost

*DO NOT REPOST, PLZ*

The corridors were quiet except for the whispers through the closed doors and the occasional sound of mental clinking and doors opening and closing. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, your breath suffocating. Your thumb nail was scratching the thumb of the other hand. Eyes unfocused as the faint sounds in your head took over your mind, blinding you to your surroundings. 

"Faster!"

"Stretcher! It's an emergency, please be fast."

"It's gonna be okay!" 

"Please get away!"

"Ring for Dr. Park!"

"Please, hold on for us. Think about the babies… please."

"Arrange a bag of blood!"

"I- take care of yourself and the babies for me."

"Don't say that. Hold on for us."

"I promised that I will love you till my last breath… Here I am, fulfilling it. I will always love you. Forever, my angel…"

"What is 3+1?" Your thoughts were cut short by your son's voice. 

"Huh?" You cleared your throat. 

"What is 3+1?" Geon-Wu repeated.

"It's four," you answered. 

"I told you, Wu. You don't listen to me at all!" Your daughter, Mi-Cha, huffed. 

These two little twin bundles of happiness are the only two threads holding you alive. It's been five years with them. The most enduring and rosy years of your entire life. But life can turn roads like we change clothes.

The rosy years halted a year ago. 

 "Whatever," Geon-Wu pouted and fiddled with his fingers in his lap. 

"Mommy! He never listens to me!" Mi-Cha whined. "I told him that 3+1= four but he won't listen."

Before you could say something, you heard someone grumble under their breath. Looking around the almost empty corridor, a man sitting on the bench was looking with frowned eyebrows at your children. He looked around your age but his sour expression was enough to tell you that he was getting annoyed. He looked intimidating.

You cleared your throat and turned towards your left where your kids were sitting, "okay, enough. Be quiet. Remember, what I explained at home?" 

They cutely nodded. "Yes, momma."

"Mhm, good. Now sit properly and calmly. We will talk at home," you patted their tiny heads.

The man silently sighed. He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. He had feline features and milky glass skin. He had no flaws except the dark circles, he could turn that into a trend.

It was obvious that he was there for a therapy session. Coming to a hospital for therapy was a bit of an odd setup. The clinic you usually went to was being renovated. So the two friends that owned it moved temporarily into the hospital that was owned by one of their fathers. 

You hated this, coming to therapy. But it helped in an unspoken way. Talking about everything that happened a year ago and its consequences gave you headaches, and anxiety but it also helped you go to bed feeling less tangled. This untangled one knot of your mess every week. 

This week, your kids were meant to be there too. They have been asking many more questions, and it was only good to take wise advice so you talked to your therapist and here you were with your kids.

"Ms. Kwog. Whenever you are ready," the middle-aged lady spoke up from her desk.

You got up and slightly bowed to her and ushered your twins with you. "Mommy?"

"Yes?" 

"That cat man was scary," Mi-Cha thought she whispered. 

"Yes, he was scarily looking at us. Was he a ghost? He was so white," Geon-Wu didn't even try to whisper.

"Just move you all. You guys embarrass me every time," you whisper-yelled and pushed them into the cabin. Then you looked back at the man who was staring at you with a flared nose and frowned eyebrows. You hastily bowed and went inside. 

These kids make your life a step harder. 

"Good evening, Dr. Park," you greeted the ever-smiling man and sat next to Mi-Cha who was in the center with your son on her right. 

The room was as comfortable as ever. The walls were sunburnt with comfortable furniture. If you weren't aware of the fact that it was in the hospital, you could have mistaken it for someone's cozy living room. 

Dr. Park tossed you your favorite stress ball that you used whenever you came for a session. It was exclusively for you. "Jimin. You know you can call me by my name, y/n."

"At least let me call you Dr. Park for the sessions," you smiled. 

"You are never gonna listen to me," he scrunched his face. 

"Well, I came this far while listening to you, Dr. Park," you both chuckled. The twins looked at both of you with wide doe eyes. 

"However you feel comfortable, Ms. Kwog," he teased and turned towards the twins. "Well, hello there. Who do we have here," he asked in a childish voice and already went for the drawers that had some squishy toys that could be qualified as stress relievers. 

They looked at you for approval to speak to a stranger. You smiled and nodded. "I'm Mi-Cha. I'm five years old."

"I'm Geon-Wu and I'm also five," they introduced. 

"Wow, you both are so big and smart," Jimin said with big eyes. 

Jimin and you have met outside of a session multiple times. But you never brought your kids with you or introduced them to anybody new. They were in a soft spot for now. They didn't do well with strangers, especially males. 

"But mommy says that we are babies and we should behave," Geon-Wu pouted. 

"Well, she is right. You both should behave at all ages," Jimin gave them some squishes. "How are you both? Did you two sleep well last night?"

"I'm good. I sleep a good night," Mi-Cha said in her broken language while playing with the green squishy frog whose eyes were going far away when she squished.

"Me too," he said while squishing the sheep. 

"That's wonderful. So, is there something that makes you sad? Or makes you feel empty?" He carefully began.

The kids stopped and spaced out. You knew it was coming. They were smarter for their age. But they were still kids, they didn't understand deeper things. 

"Dada," Geon-Wu said. "He is not coming home anymore. We always wait."

Your heart clenched. Every single day for five months, the twins would sit by the door at seven in the evening to greet their father as they usually did, but he never came. 

"Did you ask your mother about it?" Jimin said as he wrote something in his notepad. 

"Mommy said that an angel came and took him with her," Mi-Cha said, subconsciously squishing the frog. 

"Yeah? Did she say that? And what do you think?" He asked.

"I think she is joking. He always called mom an angel. Why would she take him? Wouldn't she bring him home? And he can't go away without saying goodbye. He kisses our foreheads before going to the office," Geon-Wu's lips trembled.

Jimin straightened up and picked up the landline phone and called someone, "Hey, can you come in for a sec, please?" He hummed and placed it back. "You can keep the toys," Jimin smiled as well as the kids. 

The middle-aged lady from before came in with a knock, "yes?"

"Take the kids for a while… kids? Go with her. She will give you candies," the kids looked at you again and with a single nod, they were out with the lady. "When there is a sudden change in the routine of kids, they tend to not get along well. No kid is good with changes especially if they are so sudden and unclear. I understand that telling them anything is heartbreaking and overall a stressful situation, but kids need a disclosure. A more settled if not the whole truth."

"How am I going to tell them?" Your tears were threatening to fall. 

"Not now. Unless you are not ready, you don't have to. If you do tell them when you are not ready, it will affect your mental health. They don't understand the death stuff. They need some guidance to be there… to handle what their life has turned to," he said.

"What do you mean?" You asked. 

"My father's friend is a great child therapist. I think you should set up at least one session for each. She is a really effective lady. I think she can help you the best. The rest is up to you," he shifted in his seat. 

You sighed. It's not that you don't earn enough, it's the fact that your five years olds need therapy. This added one more thing to Jimin's list to help you overcome. He was just trying to help you in any way possible. And you were very well aware that they needed it. They need to know the truth…. In the end, the person in the equation is their father. 

"How about we talk about you, Ms. Kwog?"

…

"Mommy! She gave me a raspberry candy," Mi-Cha waved her candy and jogged toward you followed by Geon-Wu.

"And she gave me a grape candy!" He said and both hugged your legs. You patted their heads.

"Yeah? That's so cool! Did you say thank you?" You asked.

"Oh, they did. I have never met such cute kids!" The lady said. 

"Thank you so much," you smiled. 

"I hope we will get to meet them sooner. Outside of this environment?" Jimin asked as he came out.

"Yes, mommy, can we meet Dr. Park sometime outside of the hospital? I like him," Mi-Cha said. Her cheeks turned into rosy blush. 

You passed a squinted-eye look at her, "okay…" 

Jimin laughed and kneeled, "we will meet soon!" She smiled widely and hugged him. Geon-Wu was also included by Jimin. 

"Well, that's something," you said. "We need to go now."

The kids politely bowed and held your hands. When you were about to turn around, the other door opened and the man from before stepped out. Behind him, the other doctor, Dr. Jung Hoseok came and looked at you and passed a wide heart-shaped smile. The man looked at you and your kids with a blank face. You ignored him and passed a smile to Hoseok and left. 

Hoseok and Jimin were the friends who opened the clinic. When you first came around, you heard that Hoseok was strict and intimidating. That was the reason why you asked for Jimin in the first place. But as time passed, you became friends with him through Jimin who brought Hoseok on lunch with him. He was strict, yes, in his work. But more than that, he was a ball of sunshine, trying to help people out in their worst. You loved to be around them. 

…

"Bunny uncle! Bunny uncle!!!! BUNNY UNCLE!!!!" 

"Whoa, you kids! Let the man get up and open the door in peace!" Jungkook, your best friend, said as he opened the door for you all. 

"Bunny uncle!" The kids squealed and attached Jungkook with their tiny hugs. They have always called him bunny uncle based on his very similar looks to their favorite animal. Jungkook always loved it. 

"Ah, how are my little bun buns?" He picked both of them like they weighed nothing and brought them inside, gesturing to you to come in as well. 

"We are good. We met a cute doctor friend," Mi-Cha said as she nervously played with Jungkook's earrings. 

"A cute doctor friend?" He asked.

"She means Dr. Park," Geon-Wu said. 

"Ah, Jimin?... Ah," he understood and looked at you with a funny face. "Someone is having a first love."

"Stop!" Mi-Cha whined and buried her face in his neck. 

"Ew," Geon-Wu fake gagged. "But he was nice. I like him."

Jungkook was the one who suggested you go to therapy. Jimin was his friend from school. So was Hoseok. Then both protected Jungkook from bullies as he was too innocent and fragile back then. Now he was a muscle pig and didn't get scared, instead, he would intimidate the others. But he never hurt anybody. He was a nice person. 

"Well, it's good that you liked him. He is a charming man. But not more than me," you chuckled at his comment. "Anyway, how was it, Y/n? What did he say?"

You slumped on his couch as he sat in front of you with the twins in his lap. They both looked like pens in a pocket, too tiny against his huge figure. You adored it. At least they had one constant male figure in their life. He couldn't fill the father's void, but he was something close to it. A best friend, one could say. A blessing, as you say. 

"Therapy. He recommends that they should be sent to a therapy session. His father's friend is a great child therapist. He said that I should at least send them once and see what happens…. They need disclosure. But first, they need to be strong enough for it… and I should be willing," you ran your hands on your face. 

Jungkook and you met in college. You both had all the same subjects and stuck together all the time. He was the one who brought Dae-Jung, your late husband, to your group of two. He was the nicest and the most respectful man you have ever met. He held the universe in his eyes and poured it out for only you. Love, that word was never enough for him to express himself. It was more than that. He was more than that. You both fell in love and made a universe of your own. But everything comes to an end. And your universe tumbled before it even started. 

Hugging both the twins closer to his chest, he kissed their heads and sighed. "I will be right here, okay? I'll help you as much as I can."

You held your tears back for the sake of your children. 

.....

Sanaa's note:

I hope you liked it. I wrote a Yoongi before but ended up deleting it. Hopefully, this turns out better. I always appreciate your feedback 💓

The behavior of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @jhmylove @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional ; @tarahardcore

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

*original picture is not mine, I just edited it*

Have a nice day/night💓

#bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts yoongi #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #suga angst #suga smut #suga fluff #bts suga #suga x reader #suga x y/n #yoongi #suga fic #bts fiction #bts fic #widower!yoongi #3+1=?

[moccahobi]

Hello, Goodbye

Summary: “Hello.” That was the start of the most profound relationship Jungkook has ever had. Now graduating, he finds himself reminiscing on his love: Yoongi.

Pairings: Jungkook (BTS) x Yoongi (BTS)

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Shadow loss, grief

Genre: angst

Word count: 1k

A/N: This is part of @kpopwritingbingo. The prompt is Onewe’s Eraser! It’s a beautiful song. Also big thanks to @sugarwithtea​ for betaing this for me!

"Hello. What are you doing here?" Jungkook's head shot up, his eyes struggling to see through his tears. The world around him was vignetting white as he cried in the hideout he found. He thought that no one else went to this place and that he’d finally get some alone time to soothe his breaking heart.

 “I needed some alone time.”

 The dude didn't get the message Jungkook was trying to telepathically communicate and sat down, "This is a good spot for that."

 Jungkook hummed. In the two months he's been at college, it's been his only reprieve. Communal bathrooms, shared bedrooms, & large windows left Jungkook no privacy. His descent into isolation and depression had been on display for everyone to see.

 "I needed alone time too."

 "Ah. Want to be alone together?" Jungkook asked after a beat of silence, not having energy to tell this man to leave.

 "Sure."

The two sat in silence for an hour, the world passing them by all the while. If they cried, no comments were made. The other man introduced himself as Min Yoongi the second meet up, and by the fifth, Jungkook knew Yoongi was a 2nd year psychology student with a shitty roomate & now only one friend. Jungkook had lost all he thought were friends.They’d found each other when both had barely anything and together, they’d build everything. 

By the time he graduates, Jungkook will understand that the people he tried to befriend hadn't meant to hurt him. They hadn’t meant to leave him begging for their help. Like Jungkook, they were just trying to make friends & hadn't quite clicked. They were fresh adults, trying to make sense of the world, and Jungkook just hadn’t fit into the salve of comfort they needed in that confusing time.

 Besides, losing them gained him Yoongi. Losing them gave Jungkook the one person he loves more than anything. By Jungkook's 2nd year the two started dating. The first date was a shy one where they ate lamb skewers in a park, sharing gentle touches & soft gazes. Yoong even gave Jungkook his last lamb skewer, claiming that he was full. Later he admitted that that was a lie.

 Jungkook, the sentimental man he is, saved a clean napkin from that date. It's now framed in a collage, hanging beside his desk, soon to be packed away.  The collage also has an instruction paper from a shoe rack they got and made for their on-campus apartment. Yoongi, mister skilled, made it all on his own with Jungkook supplying moral support through kisses. Six dates into their relationship and they had to plan for housing and although Jungkook was scared of having a roommate, Yoongi had amounted enough academic credits to get them high in the apartment draw. Without Yoongi, Jungkook would’ve been one of the last in the general housing draw, stuck getting a random roomate.

Yoongi didn’t go back to his hometown that summer and Jungkook lived close enough that the two had more dates together. Picnics in the city that rested between college and home. Yoongi would “happen” to have some of Jungkook’s favorite food with him during those picnics or “happen” to have been given tickets to an event that was happening. Jungkook treasured every moment from that summer. Slowly, Jungkook found his thoughts of home shifting. No longer was it where he grew up or his neighborhood. It became a person.

 That was Jungkook's 3rd year. Yoongi was swamped & spent most of his free time applying to grad schools, attending interviews, and crying when they turned him down. Jungkook saw how academia tore Yoongi apart, critiqued everything he did and believed in, and yet academia seemed to be Yoongi’s home. He desperately wanted to get into a PhD program. It was a busy time for Jungkook as well. Pressure to declare his major mounted and he found himself stuck in classes that assigned too much reading and expected too much from him. 

Despite their stress and busy lifestyles they still found moments together. Attempting new recipes, working together, and snuggling in the moments between snoozed alarms became their norm. Their romance flourished in the small cracks, like a dandelion on a sidewalk. Jungkook even managed to create a small cookbook filled with their recipes, their thoughts, and even photos of them cooking together. He had a copy and gifted one to Yoongi

 It was his graduation gift.

 The two walked to their special spot, where they'd first met, and cried together. Once again the world passed them by as they sat there. Yoongi had his program. Yoongi was leaving. Sitting here now, at Jungkook's graduation, feels all wrong. Youngi isn't here. He's across the country working his ass off in a clinical program. When is the last time that they’d talked? Yoongi is still the last contact he called but that’s because Jungkook only ever called him. 

Yoongi isn’t here physically. 

Yet Jungkook feels him all around.

Jungkook takes a deep breath of the air around him, flower petals and pollen drifting in the wind. Yoongi isn’t here physically. 

And Jungkook needs to find a new home now.

 If only Jungkook knew back then then how this would all end. All the caring moments, tainated by the present. Would Jungkook be able to handle it all? Would he be able to handle their first words if he knew what their last would be?

"Goodbye."

#musicbingo23 #wkcnet #rainingmxmnet #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts mxm #bts jungkook #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts college au #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi x jungkook #bts yoonkook #bts suga angst #bts jungkook angst

[taintedjeon]

‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

✞ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alternative!yoongi x reader ✞ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k ✞ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: yoongi has tongue pierings, bigdick!yoongi, dirty talk, raw sex, riding, nipple play, nipple biting, minor hair tugging, size kink, using a polaroid during sex, mention of dacryphilia to open

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.

series masterlist | main masterlist

“Don’t hide your pretty noises. I want you to cry for me.” Yoongi emphasises his requests as he speeds up his pace. His lips bathing your shoulder in kisses as he makes his way up to the sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver under his touch.

His name leaves your lips in a sinful prayer for the man in between your thighs. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, all you’re able to do is feel him filling you to the brim with all of him as tears wet your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you hear Yoongi muttering into your chest as you move yourself up and down, impaling yourself on his cock, “treating me well, ni—ah, fuck baby!”

Yoongi’s head is thrown back against the plush grey headrest of the couch, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he grunts in pleasure. One of his hands rest on your hips, the warmth of his palm and the coldness of his rings decorating his lithe fingers causes shivers to run over your body.

He is incredible. Insatiable even. Yoongi knows your body better than you know it yourself. He knows just how to fuck you right, every single time.

With your body shaking and eyes screwed shut tight in arousal, you miss Yoongi reaching out beside him. A click, accompanied by a quick bright flash takes you by surprise, causing your eyes to flutter open.

Halting your movements, you peer down at Yoongi who is staring straight into your eyes — blackened, blown out and filled with lust. You clench your pussy around his cock and smile at the polaroid in his hands.

“Want to remember this moment.”

“Well let me help you,” you tell him as you grab at his hand and place it on your tits, guiding him to palm you. Yoongi is more than happy to indulge you and plays with your nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at the bud, watching it harden under his touch. You lace your fingers with his and then watch as he snaps a new image of him groping you.

One of your hands comes to rest on the back of his head, fingers gripping into his long strands of raven hair and giving them a soft tug in that way he loves. You lean down and kiss Yoongi with a surge of urgency. It’s wet and messy as your tongues tangle and lips smack against each other. His dual tongue bars give the kiss an added edge as he usages it to his advantage to lick against your lower lip before pulling at the skin in between his teeth. From below, you feel Yoongi lift his hips causing the tip of his cock to press deeper inside of you. A strangled moan slips past your kiss bitten lips at the welcomed pleasure.

Yoongi is thick and heavy inside of you, stretching you loose in ways no man ever has done before. Sex with Yoongi is always exciting and with added kinks to explore with each other, he always leaves you wanting more every time.

“How’s my angel doing?” He whispers as he plays about with the settings on the camera before pointing the lens back in your direction.

“G-good, want to keep going—fuck!” You curse at the end as he moves his hips again and snaps another image of you as your face contorts in unadulterated pleasure.

“G’on, move for me princess, show me how cock drunk you get for me, yeah.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slid your hands across his chest, tracing the lines of the dragon tattoo that spans across his well built upper body. Through lustful eyes, you watch as Yoongi bites his lip at your touch and you keen, knowing that you’re the one to bring Min Yoongi down to this state with you.

Lifting your hips, you glide your cunt from his base to the tip, managing to feel every vein that wraps around his pretty length.

“Fuck, wait stay there. Let me get a picture of this, holy shit…” Yoongi proclaims and takes the third picture on the polaroid. “Don’t move. Keep yourself hugging my tip, fuck you gotta see how wet you got my cock princess.”

You do as you’re told and you keep your body positioned above him, cockhead nuzzled snuggly in your small hole as you await the polaroid to print the film.

Minutes pass and it doesn’t take long for your legs to start trembling from your muscles being stagnant in this position for a little longer than you’re used to.

“Yoongi, I wanna fuck!” Your protest comes out whiny as you fight the urge to drop yourself down to begin fucking him again.

The sound of the polaroid printing is heard between the both of you and you watch as Yoongi reaches for the film, shaking it in the air for a few seconds before looking at it.

He groans, and you feel arousal build up and leak onto Yoongi’s cock. The sounds that Yoongi creates, every moan, every rumble of his chest pushes you to keep still.

Next thing, Yoongi is twisting the picture around for you to see with your own eyes and what a sight it was. His length looks swollen with use, hard and stunningly decorated in those pretty veins you enjoy giving attention when he allows you. His length glistens under the flash of the camera from the juices he has spilled from your pussy and now it’s your turn to moan.

“Can you see too? The way I barely fit inside you…” he trails off. “Look at you struggling to take my fat cock in your tight cunt, I’ve never seen anything so fucking stunning. This is art.”

Warmth spreads around your body at his words as you look at the image as he speaks to you with so much filth. You flutter around him, utterly brain dead from Yoongi’s cock.

You’re not given enough time to think before Yoongi rocks his hips up, stroking your walls beautifully as he pulls you down to bury himself back in the hilt of his home which is your pussy. Tears gather in your eyes, giving them a sparkle that Yoongi loves to coax from you as he throws the camera back to the side in order for him to guide you up and down his throbbing dick.

The burn in your thighs is present and makes itself apparent as you continue to work your muscles into overdrive as you ride Yoongi like your life depended on it. Yoongi wraps both his hands around your back, palms resting against your clammy skin as he whispers filthy praises and prays of you into your skin, absolutely lost in the lust that is you and your tiny cunt.

You scratch at his chest, digging your nails through the dragon tattoo, breaking the skin and knowing that there will be a trail of red desire marked into his skin for the evening.

“You’re so big!” You hiccup, feeling Yoongi increase the speed of his hips into you, his ego swelling at your words.

“Ah, your pussy is leaking all over me, making such a mess of me angel.” Yoongi punctuates his words with a firm buck into your cunt, Yoongi highlights the loud squelching sounds of your ministrations.

One of his hands finds your wrist and brings it up to his mouth where he places kiss after kiss on each knuckle. He guides your hand further down until it finds the column of his throat and you rest there.

“G’on princess, choke me a little,” Yoongi grunts through gritted teeth and so you do as you’re told, applying a light amount of pressure around Yoongi’s throat. You watch as Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens in pleasure, his tongue coming out to lick at the corner of his lips. The glint of his tongue ring makes you whine. Your body manages to fight through the overstimulation of his cock fucking into you over and over again as you take over as much as Yoongi is allowing you.

Now, you’re using each other and it’s never felt so fucking pleasurable. You eye the polaroids that Yoongi had taken early scattered around the sofa around his body and you smirk as the tears are rolling down your cheeks in small rivulets. You are both drowning each other in sex so intense, the pleasure borders on almost painful.

With each drop off your hips, you feel him deep in your stomach. Your body burns in overexertion but you don’t stop until you’ve both reached your ends.

“I’m taking you so well, Yoongi, can you feel me!?” You swivel your hips as you ask.

“Nobody got a pussy like yours… best pussy I’ve ever fucked, princess, swear.” Yoongi rasps through your hold on his throat. At his words, you squeeze your fingers just a little tighter around his throat.

“You gonna come, angel?”

You nod at him. “I’m so close, please. Please, I need to!” You beg him to let you finally reach your climax, your hips working faster.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” you could hear that his voice is straining as his hips become sloppier in their movements. Your spare hand reaches for the headrest of the sofa behind him.

“Fuck, yes, keep going, keep going, I’m gonna fill you to the fucking brim, gonna watch you bloat with my cum,” Yoongi is loud, not afraid who around you both hears his promise to you. 

The living room fills with moans and skin slapping against skin as the pair of you use each other to reach your climaxes. Finally, yoongi leans forward and takes a nipple in between his teeth and runs both his tongue bars over the hardened bud back and forth. Yoongi bites down hard and in return, your pussy vices him in and your hands release from his neck. All at once, Yoongi’s breath hitches as the air returns to his burning lungs and comes inside of you, filling you with his hot sticky white seed as he paints your body with filthy praises.

Soon after, you meet your orgasm shortly behind his own. Your body stills as you tremble above him as your body releases your arousal all over Yoongi, making a mess of him and probably the couch underneath.

He is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you as your body twitches through your orgasm. Yoongi can’t help but give tiny shallow thrusts to help aid you through it.

You both bask in the glow of intense sex as you both collapse onto each other. Yoongi is the first to move as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up off of his softening cock. The feeling of him moving through your sensitive cunt causes you to hiss but you pout when he has fully removed himself.

After catching his breath, Yoongi guides you to lie down on the sofa as he reaches once more for the polaroid.

“Yoongi, what’re you—,” you’re cut off with the familiar click of the camera and bright flash momentarily brightening up the living room before bathing it back in it’s natural darkness.

“I can’t fuck you that well and not get the money shot, can I?” You hear the smirk in his voice. You feel a hand wrap around your ankle and then your legs are being pried apart slowly. “C’mon, let me see how messy you are for me, yeah?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh as you indulge Yoongi in his request, giving him the opportunity to get the device up close and personal to your cunt before snapping a new image.

“Yeah, these are definitely going into the wank bank for later.”

© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.

#min yoongi #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi drabble #yoongi faanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #min yoongi smut #yoongi one shot #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x you #bts angst #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi series #yoongi fanfic

[curryshesus]

bts fics that radiate sheer utter brilliance

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 1

hello, hello! please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did <3 note: all of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni please). enjoy!

➺ the road to you - by @bonvoyagenoona

| ot7 x reader (tae focus) | 110k

au of all aus, best friend!taehyung, high school boyfriend!jimin, professor!yoongi, college boyfriend!jungkook, art enthusiast and city heartthrob!namjoon, barista!hobi, actor!jin, angst, fluff, smut, series

>>summary: "armed with your quick wit, creative passion, talent for storytelling, and innate understanding of your fanbase, you have met every challenge, surpassed every goal, and achieved the unimaginable. despite the earth shifting erratically under your firmly planted feet, you’ve always had a plan. you’ve made peace with the sacrifices you’ve had to make, and you’ve long forgotten the rejections and heartbreaks that came as a result. your agent keeps reminding you that you’re at the precipice of something new, that your audience is waiting for your next project with bated breath. this is usually when you thrive. so why do you feel so lost? and who can you count on from your past to help you find your way?"

➺ matilda - by @babystrcandy

| yoongi x reader | 141.8k

brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, min yoongi, came into your life. you both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. but with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true."

➺ bitchin' - by @kinktae

| jungkook x reader | 49.5k

1980’s au, inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before, e2l, fake lovers/college au, frat boy!jungkook, smut, series

>> summary: "the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook."

➺ flower - by @readyplayerhobi

| hoseok x reader |

online dating au, fluff, future angst, future smut, series

>> summary: "you finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the flower dating app. one of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. what happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

➺ suncity - by @jamaisjoons

| hoseok x reader | 17k

strangers to lovers au, vacation au, angst, fluff, smut, oneshot

>> summary: "when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him."

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

| jungkook x reader | 40.9k

fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, s2l, fwb, smut, angst, oneshot

>> summary: "jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return."

➺ peach parfait - by @jamaisjoons

| seokjin x reader | 19k

enemies to lovers au, fluff, smut, slight angst, two parts

>> summary: "you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts."

➺ tell me no lies - by @jeongi

| jungkook x reader | 15.1k

ceo au, criminal au, robbers au, angst, smut, minimal fluff

>> summary: "you chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him."

➺ concrete king - by @bratkook

| jungkook x reader | 16.7k

sweet summer romance, fluff, smut, himbo energy, two parts

>> summary: "when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him."

#bts fic rec #fic recs #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #jimin angst #jimin smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts fan fiction #fic rec list #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #seokjin angst #seokjin smut #bts masterlist #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader

[gimmethatagustd]

morals on sundays | myg

You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.

○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff

○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)

○ Word Count: 2,177

○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots

○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't

○ Post Date: January 22, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK

Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air. 

“How much time do we have?” 

Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear. 

“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”

“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move. 

“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.” 

“No.” 

Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders. 

“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi. 

“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?” 

“Nope.”

“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head. 

Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed. 

“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus. 

Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you. 

“You were too good for him.” 

Yoongi’s right. He’s always right. 

You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment. 

Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature. 

Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was. 

In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort. 

As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish. 

“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one. 

“Yes.” 

“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.” 

Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…” 

Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate. 

“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.” 

You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right. 

“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different. 

You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart. 

“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.” 

“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it. 

“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.” 

It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes. 

“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.” 

Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin. 

You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours. 

“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants. 

“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric. 

“These are his, too, right?” 

“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them. 

You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him. 

But you also love your ex. 

It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water. 

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good. 

Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes. 

“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough. 

“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples. 

“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is. 

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper. 

“Not yet, though.” 

“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs. 

“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.” 

The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–” 

Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm. 

It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs. 

Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal. 

You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.

He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer. 

“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you. 

Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips. 

“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it. 

You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi angst #bts angst #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #mos #100 drabble challenge

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

[kithtaehyung]

minted (m) (teaser) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️

"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

#IM SO EXCITED YALL #happy belated hali!!! #ryenwrites #teasers #*latest #*ryenfictalk #minted #fic:minted #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions

[moonchild1]

min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hi guys it's been a minute since i posted it's been hectic i recently got a promotion so that's been taking up my time but here's another list of my favourite yoongi fics honestly reading them was so much fun and made me feel happy so i hope you enjoy them as much as i did. remember to please show lots of love and support to these incredible authors and creators and their blogs, don't forget to give them a follow , leave a heart, reblog or leave a kind message i know they will appreciate hearing from you, these fics contain smut so no minors interact feel free to send and share any fics you are currently into and would like to share with me i would love hearing from you guys

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

love lockdown by @personasintro f s a (enemies to lovers zombie apocalypse)

belong by @ahundredtimesover f s a (exes au basketball yoongi summer love au)

in the margins by @bonvoyagenoona f s a (enemies to friends to lovers slow burn)

look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash s a (enemies/coworkers to lovers slow burn)

andante cantabile by @kkulfm-2 f s (regency au unrequited love slow enemies to lovers pianist yoongi)

match made in hell by @ughcore  f s a (arranged marriage doctor au rivals to lovers)

only yesterday by @borathae f s a (strangers to lovers)

dating advice by @taleasnewastime f s a (strangers to lovers)

the deal by @untaemedqueen f s a (strangers to lovers gang/cartel au)

matilda by @babystrcandy f s a (brother's best friend unrequited love)

down the hall by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend)

ink nemesis by @scriptaed f a (fake dating au)

unexpected lovers by @jjkeverlast f s a (fake dating artist yoongi)

love is a dog from hell by yourlocalhoney (ao3) f s a (love triangle friends with benefits) ft.Jungkook

petals by @yoonia f (parents au)

pink bird houses by @54daysormore f a (single dad au)

everytime by @deathbyyoongx f s a (fuckboy exes au)

desolate by @angelicyoongie f s a (hybrid au)

one-shot

first-date bait by @jimlingss f (strangers to lovers)

↬first-date bait drabble @/jimlingss s (strangers to lovers)

wallflowers by @bonvoyagenoona s (strangers to lovers)

shirt by @bonvoyagenoona s a (one night stand idol au)

sugar by @zehakoo f s (ceo au strangers to lovers neighbours)

radio sweethearts by @helenazbmrskai s (brother's best friend college au slow burn)

tongue like candy by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend age gap)

auburn skies by @persphonesorchid f s a (brother's best friend)

black and white by @akinnie75 f a (slow burn)

always & forever by @sugakookitty f s (established relationship wedding au)

hard liquor by @chateautae s (boss x employee age gap)

sweetener by @taegularities f s (enemies to lovers fwb au fuckboy)

soft spot by @cultleaderyoongi f (first date)

↬sweet spot by @/cultleaderyoongi f s (established relationship)

sticks & stones by @xpeachesncream f s a (friends to lovers ex friends with benefits pinning au)

fuck being friends by @strawberrynamjoon f a (friends to lovers college au)

the seventh muse by @wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

tell me what you want by @/wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

yoongi’s lullaby by @jiminrings f a (unrequited love friends to lovers soulmate au)

illicit favors by @yoongiofmine f s a (friends to lovers)

snow blanket by @yoonieper f s (friends to lovers)

a wager of lords & love @hisunshiine s (regency au arranged marriage)

an empty home by @7deadlysinsfics s a (arranged marriage) ft. Taehyung

the nanny diaries by @btsgotjams27 f (single mom roommate au)

the good part by @introlxv s (roommate au)

handyman by @borathae s a (rebound au roommate au)

peaches in bed by @/borathae s (domestic au husband au)

don't hold hands by @whatifyoulivelikethat s ( friends with benefits roommate au)

by the time i've figured out what it's worth by @ugh-yoongi f s a (marriage au)

swing life away by @aphrodijin f s a (marriage au)

the little things by @kth1 f s (boyfriend au)

fxck a fxckboy! by @yoongifis s (fuckboy)

cupid's curse by @ressjeon s a (first love au)

dawned in by @aquagustd f s (dilf yoongi)

bad things by @yoonia s a (escort au pining)

close call by @xjoonchildx (mafia au)

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

#kiki!fic!rec #yoongi #yoongi fic rec #bts fic rec #bts yoongi #kiki's library #kiki's recs #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi:fluff #yoongi:smut #yoongi:angst #yoongi:oneshot #yoongi:series #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic recs #favourites!myg

[liveyun]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 | MYG (m)

title. predator

summary. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of.”

pairing(s). yoongi x female reader (oc)

genre. gangster au, smut

warnings. kidnäpping but not much of its descriptions, corruption and weapons, double thoughts, an..gst? , explicit warnings under the cut :)

wc. 7.8k+

a/n 1 : if you feel like some parts feel familiar to you, it's because this was previously posted in my old blog around a year ago which was inspired by ‘that that’. but this is a newly written and re-edited one :)))

taglist | main masterlist

smut warnings : masturbation(f), voyeurism and mentions of exhibitionism, fantasizing, dirty talk , slight humiliation, pet names teasing, chains and gloves 😗 , so much of teasing dear lord, bondage 🫣 , gagging with panties, bondage, oral (f. and allusions to m.) and fingering (f), finger sucking and squirting :D

“ f..fuck..”

Your eyes screw shut just the moment you feel your fingers working against the fabric of your clothed cunt, your wetness increasing with each flick of your fingers to your throbbing clit. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as your moments get a bit faster, feeling your slick pool around your entrance. It's your fingers who are working, but in your mind, those ring clad fingers are the ones touching you. Pleasing you.

The feeling of your panties being the barrier is very much uncomfortable, you need to take that off to feel yourself completely.

You harshly pull your panties down your legs, feeling the cool air hitting your slick heat, making you shudder as you hiss in anticipation. You can't deal with this anymore, you need to do something. Or else you'd completely go insane thinking about that man.

It just happened like a daydream. A few days ago, you can guess, flying away like hours.

You wake up to a strong headache with your vision being blurred and watery. A pair of black Jordan shoes tapping the floor, in slow motions, comes to your sight, as if waiting for something to come is all that you could see at that moment with dots growing in your vision. The moment you feel a bit more awake, your whole body aches so bad, it feels as if you've been trashed up.

Your whole body feels as wobbly as jelly all over. Whimpering, you try to move slightly, but fail with a broken sigh. That's when you feel a strong arm wrapping around your figure, hauling you up swiftly, and you let out a small gasp at the action. Your head spins at the sudden movement as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your breathing was strained as your chest heaves up and down, trying to gulp as much oxygen as you could. You realize that you're no longer lying on the floor, but rather. . .a firm, clothed chest, which rose and fell with each breath, as you felt the thrum of heartbeats resonating in your own eardrums with each second that ticked by. Your eyes fly open at the simple realization that you were being hugged by someone, and that someone smelled like the subtle notes of lavender with a delicate undertone of citrus.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize how attractive you find this and how much your tired body seeks for the comfort his warm body provides you in the simple embrace. You want this small moment of comfort to last a bit longer, as you try to snuggle in, but the guy seems to have different plans. He yanks your fragile body away from his own, snatching away the small warmth you had, a whine building up in your throat in exhaustion.

You don't dare to open your eyes which feel as if they're burning with hot tears, but you do feel the strong gaze piercing into your skull as you feel yourself still being in his embrace, him still holding you with a single strong arm wrapped around your waist.

His unrelenting embrace felt sensitive on your skin as your muscles feel tight and sore, and you try to wriggle around a bit. Your limbs protest with pain the longer you stand on both of them, knees close to be giving up. You struggle to stay awake and not surrender to the lull of pain and tiredness which wants you to.

You don't know where you are, or how you came here, but you surely know, you can surely feel that the room, or wherever you stand is freezing cold. Suddenly, the oppressive and eerie silence was shattered by a sudden and chilling sensation.

A cold, metallic object pressed against your chin, and your eyes once again flew open with your heart racing,realizing that it was the barrel of a gun.

Your eyes can only pass away the unshed tears which had accumulated, soon finding yourself so close to a mass of silky but messy black hair, and you realize that you've been pulled back to your kidnapper’s embrace.

It felt suffocating how his alluring scent still clouded your senses, now sending them to a hayware as you take in the close proximity. You feel his grip on you tightening, his malevolent breath hot on your ear. A sinister, deep whisper slithered into your consciousness,

“Don't even think about it.”

As if you could.

Your fingers flick lightly against your heat, right above the protective skin of the sensitive pearl. Sharp gasps leave your mouth, feeling the pleasure build in your lower stomach the more you work on your delicate parts.

You were sure you were trembling on the table you were seated with your legs spread wide open, your viscous arousal dripping down to the table and making a mess on it. Would he love that it's all because of him?

Gods, if anyone enters the room without any notice of your position, the first thing they'd capture is your bare, pulsing cunt. But you were way too turned on to think straight or think about the possible consequences. Or did it rather turn you on? You didn't know.

A thin layer of sweat covers your almost nude body, your breasts heaving out with each breath and nipples begging to be touched, pebbled by the cool air and pleasure. But you're way too desperate to do that yourself- your mind screamed his name, physically unable to make any noises. Him, him, him.

“Ask no questions and be good. No harm would be done to you if you cooperate.”

His voice was laced with nonchalance, yet emerging as a sultry whisper with a slight rasp. He puts down your worn out figure to a black, slightly worn out couch, which seemed hard and dull with the appearance, yet it was more comfortable than the hard floor you had been lying on for what your spine told were hours.

You nervously squirm under his strong and unrelenting gaze, thinking that he’s implying your desire to escape from here. But much to your horror, or even delight, you are already craving the gush of the odd warmth he provided you, even if that was for a second. You gulp down your saliva, feeling your almost cracked throat ache in the process.

Your stomach churns at how wrong yet right this feels with your morals flying off the horizon, yet, a part of you asks if the ‘morals’ you were taught were actually morals, or were just ideals.

He passes you a bottle of water, sliding it towards you on the table as he keeps down the shotgun, followed by a small ‘click’ at the metal touching the wood. Your heart nearly pops up at the sight of how worn out it looks, the metal shining under the room's lighting almost looks dangerous.

The luster it holds reminds you that something as used and small could be just as dangerous regardless of how worn out it could be.

“But if you don't cooperate, this gun won't, too.”

You ought to be shivering at the tone he uses, and a part of you does. Despite the blood chilling threat, an unexpected thrill course through your exhausted veins, finding your kidnapper's dark charisma strangely alluring.

Your pupils fix on his right hand which still holds the gun. To make sure the gun wouldn't accidentally fire, he gently pushed the safety switch on the side of the gun to the "on" position.

It was a small, reassuring click that meant the gun couldn't shoot, even if he accidentally squeezed the trigger. You, or anyone else would be surprised at your knowledge about the parts of a gun but you'd rather think about your father’s ignorance of the specific part your kidnapper was cautious enough to push at the specific moment.

You were too exhausted to think that you were only eight when you first saw a similar gun lying on the coffee table, left open by no one but your father.

Your breathing is back to somewhat normal now. What actually clouds your senses is how you're obliged to agree that a man so beautiful like him, you had seldom encountered any in your limited time you were given access to freedom, back home. Yet, it surprises you that he's not some affluent multi-millionaire but a gangster or rather, a predator.

His fingers are pale and slender, with rings full on display. Following the veins of his wrist were shiny black bracelets and shell bands on top. You'd think that the color contrasts his beautiful pale skin so dramatically, if you'd stare at it enough it's gonna feel like a painting to you. Your eyes never quit checking him out silently as he sternly tells you that if you tried escaping, it won't be good for you.

From head to toe, you try to be subtle, but you cannot deny now when you'd hear your friends talk about what power the attraction towards a man holds. A small part of you wished if he could catch you checking him up, if he'd know your yearning for him.

How good would his fingers feel inside you ?

The thought alone makes your pussy gush out more arousal, your free hand toying with your hardened nipples as you moan quietly, or you try to.

You know that he would be around nearby, just to make sure you're not escaping..but you had no plans for that. You are already familiar that he's not idle enough to be camping by the cabin the whole day, and you're straight up delusional to think that the nightly visits (?) are for you.

You silently hope and pray that no one comes to rescue you sooner, because going back meant you could no longer be around him, and you'll no longer be free as you are now, as ironic that seems.

The irony intensifies because you trust him more than you trust your own father who was however on the verge to sell you off for his own benefit, for money. At times you'd wish to normally see Yoongi, not as some hostage and your abductor. So far, his men have been good, providing you food and water, and even some drinks to keep you going. You could be even proud of yourself to befriend one of them, or well, to have the goon talk to you if that is considered as befriending. They're all bark and no bite, you think, because they try a bit too hard to play even at times when you ask them for a silly stroll outside.

And if that was all, you'd happily agree to live with Yoongi. the man who seemed ice cold at the touch of eyes, but you knew he had much more for you to explore. You already know that a calm man like him gets enraged at the push of his extremes, and that leaves you pondering.

What would he actually be when his inner self is leashed out, as he pins you to the wall, hot bodies pressed against each other?

Would he bend you over the same table you're fucking yourself on?

Shit. It feels so wrong, but why does it feel so good? You're tormenting your enlarged clitoris in tight circles, feeling more and more slick drip down your hole. You cry out a silent plea, feeling the coil in your lower tummy twist harder with every flick, every touch to your delicate heat.

“Ahn..” you whimper pathetically, suddenly picturing his slender fingers working on your cunt instead of yours. His tongue which often he struck out to wet his lips..would lick your cunt lik—

Before you know it, your eyes roll back to your head, the coil in your tummy snapping into two. A loud moan of Yoongi leaves your throat, feeling your clitoris throb even harder with your orgasm. You shut your eyes close as pure waves of pleasure hit you in the form of white, pleasure so intense that you're seeing dots in your vision. You've never come so hard before like this, feeling your hole clench helplessly around nothing.

You cease your moments when you feel yourself jerk with overstimulation at a certain flick and you know it's time to stop.

Shame washes over you as you straighten up your back to a better position.

Fuck.

Yoongi was confused.

Or a bit concerned, even. It was nearly midnight when he was passing beside your cabin, already sure of you being well looked after. It was a small whimper which caught his notice and in the very first place it took him aback. He wondered what happened.

Though he had the most trusted men working under him, no one could ever know anything until something really happened. You can't risk anything. Worry itching in his veins, he advanced forward to the closed window of your cabin and listened closely. A string of profanities was all that he could hear, causing him to furrow his brows. Were you in pain ?

You weren't the target looked out for, merely just a bait. He did not want you to suffer, even if he knows that his men couldn't understand it at first when they bought you here. Even if he knows that he can’t explain it to you, he silently hopes that his further behavior could do that.

This was the reason why he immediately opened the door and the sight in front of him made his throat dry.

His eyes widened so slightly to see you spread out nude like an eagle on the table, your small hand pinching your erect nipples. Your head was lolled back and mouth hung open, occasionally the sweetest moans leaving your parted lips. his pupils shook violently to avoid travelling south and what he should absolutely not see. You were so desperately trying to get off, and he knew he should exit right away.

Fuck. He was definitely not a creep. Heat creeped up to his neck and cheeks at the realization and he turned back to leave.

Yoongi.

His name. You moaned his name and that upon reaching his ears, he needed to think. twice, thrice. With his head. the one on his neck, not with the one inside his pants, which twitched awake to life. He felt his heartbeat resonating in his own ears, and that left him feeling a single thing. Needy. He gulped, feeling his stomach churn with arousal and at the same time a gut feeling of this being wrong, and he couldn't think straight.

You let out a high pitched screech of his name with a strong of fuckfuckfuck, and he knew that you had already reached your orgasm. His cock now strained hard against the material of his pants, and Yoongi has to fight back a guttural groan from breaking free.

“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought.”

You freeze, your breathing labored as you recognise the voice. Fucking fuck. Blood reaches upto your cheeks as you peer up slightly with shock and embarrassment, shame doubling over inside you. You see him, Yoongi manspreading on the old couch opposite to you with a nasty smirk painted on his handsome features.

Had he been watching you?

You blink, feeling your whole body burn with embarrassment. You'd realize that if he did, he heard you doing sinful things to yourself while moaning his name. You were supposed to be scared of him, he even once held you at gunpoint, but you're not even a tad bit scared of him.

You feel oddly safe with him, around him, even if you're sitting naked and vulnerable infront of him. Maybe it's a bad idea to be so comfortable. He's not as crazy as you. How embarrassing, you consciously and immediately shut your legs close, shrinking under his strong gaze, cheeks warm and throat dry.

You gulp in nervousness, his expressions remain stoic but his eyes shine with amusement. You feel a bit too self conscious now, hoping to find your shirt where you last left it. But your eyes betray you, vision trailing down to his hands, clad with fingerless gloves which rests at his meaty, thick thighs clad with black leather pants. His manspreading has you gazing directly on his crotch area, and fucking hell.

He's girthy.

His hard-on does tell you that maybe he's been looking at you for quite a long time..

Your face heats up more if possible as your eyes succumb up to his face, an open mouthed, cocky smirk evident in his features. He cocks a brow at you, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I’ll take it that you like what you see.”

Fuck. Fuck.

You did. You really did, and much to your horror you feel your clit throb with arousal once again.

“What if it was someone else other than me who heard you? Did you really like putting up a show like that ? ”

a deep chuckle left his throat, his voice much deeper than you've heard it to be. Or maybe you're just hallucinating.

“ tsk, tsk tsk. moaning my name so loudly in the middle of the night. Are you so okay with your moans waking everyone up, kitten?”

Fuck. Your hole pulses with arousal at his words and you're unable to answer him. Kitten. The nickname makes your insides go jelly, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

Yet, just sitting up properly and lowering your head is all that you can do, biting down on your bottom lip. You're inappropriately horny for him, and the shameless arousal which spikes inside you knowing that he's just as aroused like you makes you dizzy. If you're being honest, you can't care about anyone else when he's around. You blame it on the bubbling lust inside you.

He can be intimidating, he is intimidating, but for sure no one has made you feel this safer than he does, ironically being your kidnapper. You feel cozy inside a cabin rather than the luxurious bungalow you've spent your whole life till now in.

You're crazy, because maybe a wrong move from your side and you'll lie lifeless on this same floor with no one to give a fuck. That's how it usually works.

Yet, you want to take the risk. You do want to fall prey to the predator.

Suddenly, you feel a harsh tug at your chin, your cheeks squished together and your lips painfully rounded to a pout. You feel the leather of the glove of his palm directly in contact with your chin, cradling your face. Your shaking eyes meet his own, calm but burning eyes, and he almost lets out a growl. a guttural growl that almost has you feeling fresh arousal heat up your pussy.

“Speak when you're being spoken to. "

His face is so close to your own that it almost feels heaven to see him this close. His black hair is no longer slicked back, but now open and it parts beautifully on his forehead, long enough to reach his nape. His thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and wooden brown eyes were darker than you'd have seen them. They're blown out, the dim lighting of the room merging the brown of his iris to the black of his pupil into a whole dark mass.

You're so close that if you could, you could count the number of pores on his flawless, pale skin, which always seemed like no expensive skincare could afford such a glow. Even in a situation like this, it almost makes you feel as if you're bound under his spell, a spell which has your body going lax and sanity leaving you in an instant.

His grip on you is firm, but not harsh. He makes sure it's not too much. but however it makes him feel slightly different, slightly more confused to see nothing but admiration in your own blown out eyes and it makes him frown.

Why would you look at him with such a gaze? He's not dumb. He knows that look. With his free hand he brings his fingers close to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, frowning with his lips sealed tightly. Almost hiding a groan inside his throat, he chastises,

“I don't think you understand that I can kill you anytime with the same hands which you seem to be very fond of.”

It's a subtle warning he tries to jeer. He knew as much as he wanted this, you wanted this more. But after this would be done, things maybe won't be the same.

He got no response back, which silently pissed him more. He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to confirm that it's not a delusion. He wanted you to say it out loud. He didn't know if feeling this way towards your hostage could be rational, but lust can make you feel a lot— and he didn't know if this was right.

Squeezing your cheeks a bit more harsher this time, his right hand traveled down slowly, tracing an invisible path on your skin, leaving sparks of desire behind its wake. You feel your pussy ache with need, nipples pebble up and you nearly stifle a whimper.

His hand reaches for your knee, in such a soothing manner, prying it open that so are your legs. But it doesn't advance any further. It just rests on your heated, damp flesh, almost as if hesitant to move forward.

Your face heats up when you feel his touch ignite a passion in you and you feel a gush of your arousal trickle down your thighs. Fuck, you honestly did not expect that the touch of the cool leather could burn your skin to hell. Given that the hand belongs to Yoongi, you’re nearly gone. You're forced to look at him directly as he's still holding your face and his gaze is no longer icy.

They hold a certain glint you assume as softness, the ridges of his eyebrows no longer tight. Yet his feline gaze remains so firm that it has you feeling your heart course a foreign sensation that you could grasp as....shyness. Slowly, you feel just his fingertips on your knee run forward to the flesh of your inner thighs, testing you. Teasing you.

You're going to go insane.

“Pweash..” a whine escapes your puckered lips even before you know it. He only seems subtly pleased, opting to gently stroke the flesh of your inner thighs. Gods, the touch of leather. Did he really have to do this? Your hole clenches helplessly, having him toy with you so close to where you need him the most.

“What was that?” he lets go of his hand cradling your face, and suddenly snakes his arm to your nude waist and pulls you close. So close that you'd look at him, your noses will touch. Close enough to feel his breath fanning on your cheeks, close enough to have his fingers toying with your thighs dance near the skin of your dripping heat. Close enough to have your bare chest press against his own clothed one.

You huff slightly, both in slight ache in your cheek muscles and frustration of how smug he is.

“ Please, Yoongi.. ”

The smugness in his face disappears and the arm on your waist tightens. Yet, he makes no move to inch forward towards your aching center, and you're really lured to push your hips down to his hands, for anything. To relieve the ache. You don't know what he's thinking right now, but the seriousness on his face— laced with that deep voice of his — is a huge turn on for you, and you're shameless to admit it.

“Do you realize how dangerous this is?You're tempting me— you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of,” his voice is oddly cold as his gaze remains fixed on your own. His voice sounds. . . uncertain, somehow, but not hesitant.

“Do you not want this?” you ask him, your voice small as you suddenly realize that the cabin is beginning to get colder and colder. His head drops down, his hold on you slightly wavering, but nevertheless still there— and he shakes his head. Almost as if he's trying to convince himself about his own inner questions. As if he's denying them all.

“I don't fuck around with people I'm not supposed to fuck around with.” his voice is laced with a questioning tone, you notice, and his fingers resting on your inner thighs twitch. “You. . . you're just being used as bait.”

“I know.” you ache to cradle his face in your hands, but then you realize that it maybe is a bit more intimate than you'd think. He looks dejected at you knowing the information, about the possibility that maybe your own father won't spare your life. Now or later, it's perhaps inevitable that he'd suspect you being not liable enough about his family business secrets, and he'd get a way out. To have you removed from his path.

“Why. . .?”

His expressions morph to one of despair, and his eyebrows furrow. He was so fucking confused that why'd he be so affected by something as common as that. He knows it's not something odd for patriarchal leaders killing members of their own families just for the sake of their business— he has seen a lot of them through the course of years. And what hit him in the chest was how casual you were about it— almost as if you were aware of your family’s intention all along.

He did not know why whatever he felt inside his chest for you was oddly soft, something he strictly banished himself to feel. He could not. He had no room for softness inside him. no fucking way. He tried ignoring it, but as days turned to weeks, he knew that he subconsciously broke his own rule.

“What why?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“Why are you so cool about it?”

“It is what it is.”

“You don't reali—”

“I fucking do. I fucking want you, Min Yoongi. I fucking want to stay with you. Please.” his eyes widen and you see his pupils shake and the gears inside his brain rotate.

“I do realize that you've never ever taken the responsibility of a person on your own shoulders. Your team is capable enough to take care of themselves, and you perhaps are thinking that I,” He sighs at your words, shaking his head and pressing his lips to a straight line in a grimace.

He's considering everything, not because of you or him, but for both of you. For the future.

Your thumb caressed the subtle hints of a stubble on his chin, no longer feeling the pull to stay quiet. Not when you've finally got the chance to be. “...that I possibly can't do that,”

“Even if you do, you must know that there's no going back. No looking bac—”

“No looking back, Yoongi. I got it.”

You bring forward your hands to cup his warm cheeks within your palms. His eyes widen and his mouth parts slightly, and you'd almost think it to be impossible for a dangerous, intimidating gangster like him to be so adorable. Your hands travel to his nape, where the silver jewelry rests, carefully running your fingers on the edgy metal patterns.

Your face falls at the silence and the stoic countenance you're met with.

The way his heart thumped inside his chest at your words was enough of an evidence to him, but he knew it could be just another dangerous game. He has never been with any woman he's kept hostage over the years— and he'd thought it wouldn't be his first time.

He wants to believe you— he wants to believe the honesty and innocence reflected in your eyes, but there's that part of his brain which has learnt the harder way. Yoongi knows that a single mistake and his whole group would be hustled to the blazes of the vermillion.

“Why are you doing this?” his eyes bore into your own, two pools of endless obsidian, threatening to shallow you in the mysterious depths of them.

His hand near your thigh caresses further your neglected heat, and you jolt at the sudden touch. His face inches closer to you, once again, so daringly close that once again you can make out how fierce his eyes seem right now. His warm breath falls on your now sweat dried skin near your cheeks, and there's a spike in your heartbeat.

He expects an answer, you know that he's not going to say that out loud, and the leather of his glove on the skin of your thigh feels rather soft. Your gulp down a mouthful of air, preparing to say something out loud which you haven't ever.

“It's because I. . . I want to live. I want to be set free.”

“Hnngh!!”

Some few moments ago, you were almost lured into thinking that you'll call it a night.

You felt like the gangster mode was switched off after your conversation, but he'd warned you that the conversation wasn't over yet. You'd breathed down a sigh of half relief and half wonder, pondering over how an act like. . .such, escalated to something you'd craved for. Embarrassment to confession.

But when his gloved pointer brushed the innermost skin of your thigh, your eyes widened as wide as saucers, looking up to him, who already had an open mouthed smirk painted on his face, almost as if he's amused.

“So how do you want me to fuck you?”

His crude words had a fresh wave of arousal pulsing out of you, and you'd gasped silently, accidentally batting your lashes at him. He'd groaned out loud, once again grabbing your face and pulling you close till his soft lips brushed over your own parted ones.

“Wasn’t that what you actually wanted, princess? Me to fuck you dumb?” you should've known that he indeed had a dirty mouth, but estimating how much it made your cunt throb and gush, you'd known that you didn't want him to stop. You'd moaned at his words, silently nodding furiously like a pathetic bitch.

“Did I or did I not tell you to speak when you're spoken to?” he'd growled right at your face, an arm snaking around your waist once again. His eyes had trailed down to your exposed breasts, and the hand on your waist had trailed closer to the swell of your boob. He'd licked his lips at the sight, but made no further move which had you squirming for his touch.

“Please Yoongi, please touch me. .”

A pleased smile had taken over his features at your pleas.

“Flashing these tits right on my face and then asking me nicely. Who am I to deny? Whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

And with that, he'd dipped down to your breasts, your back immediately arching up to his greedy mouth where he'd toyed with your hard nips till your breasts were spotted with blooming purple marks.

But right now, your throat already feels dry crying out his name repeatedly as you can only see the dark mass of raven hair peeking in between your thighs, tickling you over and over as his skilled mouth brings you closer and closer to a blinding climax.

Your eyes are glossy and your nipples hurt as how erect they are, but you cannot do anything about it. Your arms are restrained with the leather of Yoongi’s belt digging into your flesh, and the slight pain intensifies the sparks of pleasure traveling up your body from down your cunt.

You squirm with a muffled whine, eyes burning with tears at how many times your already sensitive cunt was brought closer to a teeth clashing orgasm, only to have it denied by him. He'd raise his head to look up at you, his lips shiny with spit and your arousal, absolutely smug about how his tongue alone has you fucked up completely. His gloved hands would stroke the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, gently bringing them closer to your sensitive clitoris.

His thumb would gently circle around the protective skin covering your nub and you'd muffle a needy moan, unable to speak because you'd riled him up so bad, he had to shove your panties down your mouth with a growl and a promise that when he's done with you, you won't be even able to hobble well.

Fuck, you were shameless to admit that him being in charge and asking you each time whether the belt hurt you, or did you really like that, made your pussy gush out more and more for him to devour it all up.

His tongue flicks right on the top of your clit, and your back arches like the nth time off the table at how light headed the pleasure is making you feel. You feel like combusting , but also, not quite yet with how his touches are intense but gentle. You're now on the edge to burst out to the sea of such a delicious torture of bliss— and you'd do anything for him to do it for you.

You grind your hips right on his face as his tongue laps down your arousal, sucking gently on your soaked folds as you feel your thighs shake with the little leeway he gives you. His nose nudges your clit and you shiver. His nose bumps against your flesh again, he's doing it exactly on purpose to have you writhing underneath him.

His face is flushed— hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and how dark his pupils are, you know that he's just as fucked as you are.

“This cunt is,” a lick to your soaked folds, the wet muscle nudging them open to dive in further, “fucking divine.” and he fucks his tongue right in, the vibration of his voice quivering through your body.

With a broken whine, you try to gyrate your hips to chase the immense euphoria he's bringing you, feeling your walls clench around his wet muscle. He fucks his tongue in a vicious manner, curling it up to touch the tips of your walls and fucking it back out; all whilst the plane of his nose rubs against your poor, tender clit with each commotion.

His tongue stills after he feels you grind against his face with a rough fervor and your velvety walls pulsate around his tongue. You whine at the loss of momentum, already having your peak being snatched away from you, once again.

His lips suck around your nether ones for a last, long caress and then parts away ; licking up his lips coated in your arousal and his spit, some of which dribbles down his chin. He's quick to collect them all using his fingers and hover over your figure; some of his dainty chains are long enough to brush over your bare clavicles, dangling over you.

His black shirt sticks to his body and you can almost figure out the planes of his body. It's completely unfair, you being completely naked and him being completely clothed. He seems to like the way you wiggle your hips underneath him, looking up at him with eyes you think you weren't capable of batting much.

Because he smirks at your fucked up, desparate expression and pushes away the long, sweaty strands of raven falling from his head to the side with his clean hands, and brings his soiled fingers to your lips.

“Taste yourself,” his voice has a rasp and you comply, opening up, only to have him push two of his fingers inside your warm cavern, having your panties dragged out. The material of the smooth leather with the viscous arousal wrapped around his slender fingers sits heavy on your tastebuds, and you immediately swirl your tongue to savor it more.

He groans, and immediately withdraws his fingers, now clean. His breathing is erratic as he leans down to steal a quick kiss from you, and you whine when you feel him pull away. He says nothing, but just whispers words of praise in your ears, mindful of your restraints. Your arms feel numb to move by the time he gently unbuckles the belt around your wrist, and he catches you off guard once again when he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue sneaking in between your gasps and tangling with yours.

Your heart beats erratically in your chest when he parts away from you, resting his forehead against yours.

“Gonna finger you now,” his voice is brisk with a pant at the end. His neck is flushed red, glistening with sweat with a slight pant. “Princess deserves the best of the night. Not just some fondling.”

Your face feels warm as you catch onto what he's referring to.

Once again, you find yourself laying down with a throb in your cunt, and him kneeling in between your spread legs to pepper soft kisses on the now dried, slightly damp thighs. When his tongue flickers on the sensitive skin, you jolt and struggle to get up on your elbows, because as much as you're enjoying this, it's a torture that he did not allow you to come at all.

Your cunt pulses and aches for him, but he seems to take his sweet time; softly passing his hands to stroke your flesh and mark them.

When a singular finger strokes the length of your soaked slit, your mouth falls open in a gasp. The leather of his gloves add to the friction as he drags his fingers in an up and down motion, spreading your arousal around. Yoongi is so keen on observing your cunt closely, and there's a desire inside you to tuck away the long, stray strand of his hair back. You're already inching your hand forward when his dark eyes snap up to yours, stopping you in your moments.

You don't even have the time to withdraw your hands when a pair of strong arms curl on the underside of your thighs and pull you forward, licking a stripe right above where his fingers are nested; and in no time you feel the plane of his tongue attacking your poor nub with kitten licks.

“God,” you gasp out loud, trashing your arms around to find any leverage as you fall flat on the table. Your fingers can only claw the edge of the table as his tongue passes over the slick of your skit with each lick, and the air is punched out of lungs the moment you feel two of his digits enter your slit with ease.

You feel his chuckle vibrate against you which goes straight to your clit. “No God will hear you out, doll.”

Fuck. Fuck. You can only arch your back in a broken moan of his name when you feel his fingers move inside of you, not yet thrusting, but curling up. It burns a bit, but the heady bliss is already making your head spin with the added slight pain. He raises his head up to see how fucked you already look, and he knows that all the edging has brought you so close already that he can feel your tight walls tighten impossibly tight around his fingers.

He feels his cock twitch in his pants, begging for attention when he notices your slick trickling down the material of his glove, right in between the joints of his fingers as he stays still.

“M-move, you can move..” the end of your sentence ends up in a whine as his fingers curl forward in full force, immediately finding the spongy area which has lights bursting behind your eyelids. He soons picks up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt in a swift motion which has you gasping for his name.

The soft jagged edges of his glove brushes the walls of your pussy with each pump, and you've never ever felt so good during fingering without any clitoris stimulation. You'd tried that a few times, only to have you grumbling because of your much smaller digits and a need to have something more. And he's right there. Yoongi’s fingers, much thicker and longer than your own ones, feel delirious inside you.

“You’re so tight, princess,” Yoongi groans when he feels you tighten around him with each thrust, pushing you down to your impending orgasm with each pump, with each caress.

Your veins feel like they're on fire, your nipples aching to be touched, and so you do. Pulling them taut between your nimble fingers, your back bows off the table when Yoongi lunches down to close his pretty lips around your neglected clit. Oh fuck. . . ! That feels so fucking amazing, and you're sure you feel his fingers abuse that spot inside of you simultaneously, all while giving his attention to your burning flesh. You're so fucking close that you can taste your orgasm, and there's a slight rush thinking if he'd egde you this time too.

Your eyes shut close the moment his fingers go knuckles inside for a thrust and curls, and at once his lips suction around your clit, hard.

You're seeing Heaven.

You scream out when your orgasm washes over you, intensified with each you were denied off. Your back feels like it flew off the table as your orgasm dawn's down on you like an avalanche, sliding off all around your body in red hot euphoria as Yoongi’s speedy ministrations don't cease. You miss how audibly he moans out loud when a particular thrust inside your cunt has a gush of clear liquid squirting out, his mouth never leaving your now fully erect clit.

His tongue swirls around and sucks, while his fingers stroke the spot inside you. And this time when your hips gyrate up in full force to his face and he hears another scream of his name and a choking resistance to his fingers inside you, he knows that he's fulfilled his goal.

Your orgasm seems to hit you over and over, and over. Your abdominal muscles are dense by the time you feel yourself twitch with the aftershocks of your release, and dear fucking god. You've never come this hard in your life before, and you do know that the man between your legs is the reason.

You hoist yourself up to yourself up to your elbows to look at him who's half hovering over you, but oh god.

He's drenched.

His lower face glistens with moisture and his t-shirt looks like someone just shot him with a water gun, the damp material forming quite a big wet spot right below his collar. He's wide eyed, smirking with a breathy laugh which makes you want to curl up. Fucking hell. No wonder why your orgasm felt so blinding, and you can still feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently stroking your thighs with soft passes.

Oh god, you just squirted.

Yoongi made you squirt. Was that way too much? You don't even know! But for Yoongi, he's smiling as everything to him is riveting, of course.

You're about to hide your face in your palms when Yoongi stops you. His gloves felt damp on your skin, and when you peel your eyes open, he's so dangerously close. So close which makes your head spin and heart race, once again.

“That’s what a real orgasm is, princess. Don't be ashamed.” He helps you get up the table, your legs feeling like fresh pudding and thighs burning. He can only snort in amusement, when you pout at him. What's so funny?

“It was hot as fuck.”

“What?” face warm, you try to cover yourself to which Yoongi lazily raises a brow. He just points a finger to your parted legs. He. . .!

“You. Squirting. It was hot as fuck. Plus the screams were like cherry on the top,” he shrugs, almost as if he didn't fucking wreck you with just his skilled tongue and fingers. Your face burns up at how casually he says that, and before you can think, you blurt out, “You think so?”

“Mm.”

It's your turn to raise a brow. You don't feel scared of him anymore, not even when the post nut clarity is hitting you. You know what you two did, and there's no going back. You feel rather at ease with how he holds one of your palms and slings an arm around your waist to haul you down the table, and you know that this is your chance.

You drop down to your knees.

And now it's him who's wide eyed. His clothed erection stands right in front of your face, almost as if struggling to get out of the hard confines of his jeans. The dent looks promising in size, and you nearly poke out your tongue to give it a lick, but you refrain. You hear him inhale a sharp breath, his hand already coming down to your shoulder to hoist you up, but you swat his hands away.

“What. . .what are you doing?” his voice comes out in a slightly surprised tone, the rasp of it already making you impatient. How could he not pay attention to himself when he's himself so fucking hard? Your hands slowly grab his meaty thighs over his denims which tense under your touch. You lick your lips, purposefully batting your eyelashes when you peer up at him, trying to look as small as you can.

Trying to make him as good as he made you feel, but you doubt your inexperienced ass could do that.

“Can’t you see? Returning your favor.”

He looks torn. The crease in between his eyebrows tell that he's hesitant for this, and he doesn't like that bratty tone you'd just used. But the parted lips imparting short breaths tell otherwise. His reply comes rather quickly, “You don't have to.”

You were sure to be hallucinating, but you could see a small twitch to his length, and you immediately felt your nether gates flooding. Oh god. You must return the favour, then.

“I want to, Yoongi, would you let me, please?”

Completely naked, batting eyelashes, pretty face and tempting view of boobs. Nimble fingers tracing the pathway of his thighs, dangerously close to his aching cock. He did want you, but. . . fuck. . ! And not to deny the image he gets of you kneeling down in front of him, your toes facing outwards and ass purposefully wiggling out, Yoongi knows he's about to bust a nut. And that too, very soon.

Who the fuck is he to deny, then.

“Since you begged for it,” his hands reach to tuck a stray hair out of your beautiful face, feeling his abdominal muscles clench when your fingers brush against his length, he smiles with a shaky exhale.

“Go ahead and take what's yours.”

a/n : soo~ what do we think? 🤒

—|→ if you enjoyed reading, don't forget to drop a reblog and/or a feedback if you'd like to~ it helps a lot with reach and motivation! <33

—|→ or iff not, don't forget to drop by my askbox through anonymous asks :D

#yoongi smut #yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts fluff #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x female reader #min yoongi smut #bts smut #bts fics #bts au #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios

[bts-trash-blog]

Best of Us

Chapter 20: Anything And Everything

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

AN: Hey so like Im back :) and with that so is the issues of tagging you guys for updates :(  So if you’re tagged and want to stay on this tag list please please sound off bellow! Even if you are a silent reader, I just need to know that way I can make room for other since Tumblr is putting a limit on things, which Is annoying as hell but at last I have an idea what I need to do. :) I love you guys and Im so happy I’m back!! Enjoy!!

PREV._.NEXT

Your eyes were heavy as your head pressed back against the headrest of your mothers car, her scent wrapped comfortably around you as you listened to her humming along to the song buzzing through the speakers. You’re tired, your body heavy yet your mind was slowly clearing, focusing on your task that you needed to do today. From the checking of emails, and finishing a paper that you had been holding off cause you honestly just didn't want to do it. Namjoon being at your home, in your den, your nest, it kinda gives you the motivation to do all of the things you’ve been avoiding to do. His scent that had lingered long after he left had kept you more focused, and had helped you fall asleep and actually stay asleep like when you were in their home.

The duel ache in your back still lingered yet it wasn’t as bad as it was yesterday, twisting and turning didn’t make you lose your breath, and sitting down without padding wasn’t killing you. It's what made your mother feel comfortable taking you to work, yet even then she said she was gonna do check-ins and had packed two less of your medications. One that she said you had to take and the other was just in case the pain was too much, she had also threatened to call ‘that pretty omega of yours’ if you refused to take the medication with you. Which had made you slightly irritated, and even embarrassed at the thought of how you knew the moment that happened, a chain reaction of Hoseok and Yoongi knowing about it. So you took your medication with you.

“Y/n.” Your mother called, making you look over at her, her eyes staying on the road, her hair up in a high sleek ponytail, her usual light makeup and her work clothes styled for what you assumed was a casual day. As you looked at her, she had just pulled away from the toll, her eyes skipping to you for a second as she gave a small smile. “So you know how your cousin, Jungkook? He wants to move back down here.” You nod a smile slipping onto your face at the thought of your slightly younger cousin. You were a year and half when he was born, and the two of you grew up side by side till you were fifteen when your uncle had gotten a job in a different city and had moved. You remember when he called you, telling you how he had presented as an Omega, which was a surprise to you and many of your family, though no judgment from both of your parents and his had made it easier on him.

“Really? Does he have a place to stay?” You see her nodding her head, though the look on her face told you she was hiding something. “Mom?”

“He’ll be staying with us, on the pullout, for at least two months. He has a job already, so he just really needs to save an apartment.” She rushed out, her words had you blinking rapidly at the thought of another Omega in your home, on without a nest at that. “He’s on suppressors by the way, so we should’ have to worry about finding a place for him during his heat, but we will have to stock up on extra nesting stuff for him since a lot of his stuff will stay with his parents till he finds a place.”

“Okay.” You state, nodding your head as she lets out a breath of relief, making you look at her puzzled. “What did you think I'd freak out or something?” “No? I don't know, I’m not sure how to approach this stuff with you, even after all this time, I mean I'm a Beta, I couldn’t care less but your father had problems sometimes when people would stay over and I remember reading about how Omegas have their safe space, their den and lik-”

“Mom, it’s fine. It's not like he’s staying in my room or taking over my space..plus if..if it gets too much I can always go to the boys place.” You mutter the last part, heat spreading across your face at the mere mention of their home being a place for you to destress and seems to already becoming a safe place for you.

“Oh really?” Your mother teased, her tone making you groan as you turned off of the toll road and into the busy streets closer to your job. You felt a teasing squeeze on your arm from her as you huff and look at her.

“When will he be here?” You ask, trying to direct the conversation away from your personal life, your courting relationship between the four of you. Though it doesn’t seem to completely work, since her teasing smile was still on her face as she spoke.

“By the end of this week, he seems excited.”

“I wonder why he hasn't called me.” You wonder, your eyes looking down to your lap, you phone between your thighs as you feel the car stop as you look up and see the tall glass building.

“Maybe he's just nervous? I'm not sure you know him, he forgets to call.” You nod, a small smile rising on your lips, the memories of him and you when you were younger playing through your mind as you take a deep breath in and let one pass your lips.

“Remember the time we were finger painting?” “You mean the time you decided that paint brushes were annoying? Yes I still have the sweater you smeared paint all over with your hands.” Her words had you giggling as you saw people entering the building, your shoulders dropping as you looked back at her.

“Simpler times, huh?”

“Very, but not as exciting as the upcoming moments.” A hand rests on the side of your face, her soft smile  relaxing your mind as her hand squeezes your shoulder. “Now, get to work and tell those boys of yours we need to schedule dinner, all five of us.” You nod, a smile on your face as you open the door, your briefcase in hand as you step up and out of her car. The feeling of the wind whipping your hair makes you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

Jin: Before you come in today can you pick us up all a round of coffee? I’ll venmo you back

Y/n: Of course, the usual?

Jin: Yes, but for mine can you get two extra shots of espresso? Long night of paperwork...

Y/N:  I'm sorry about leaving that all on you, truly.

Jin: Don’t be, I did it on my own long before you came around

Y/n: Still, I feel bad

Jin: Seriously don’t,  everything is fine Y/n, late nights aren’t new. See you when you get up here.

Heading across the street after waving goodbye to your mother you see a head of purple hair, as you walk in. Jimin's scent was slightly thick, yet the coffee was stronger but his sweets scent was just as alluring as to anyone who walks in. You knew the purple hair was Jimin  having received a crazy text from him in  the early morning yesterday. You had seen it in a blur between medication and your mother trying to spoon feed you breakfast before Namjoon had come over.  It was of him standing in a mirror, his hand purple, and his hair covered in the same shade and the words ‘Taehyung is gonna kill me’ under it. It was the one thing that made you slightly giggle besides Namjoon. As his eyes catch you you see the way they grow as he quickly ushers the person that was at the readjuster away as you move to stand in front of him. A smile on your face as he gives you a full toothy smile at you as he holds himself up on his palms as he starts to enter what you assumed was the usual order.

“For Jins can you add two extra shots of espresso?” You ask him nod as he giggles at you, his eyes looking back up at you.

“Sooo I didn't see you this past weekend or yesterday..” You trail off, his eyes moving up to your neck making you roll your eyes playfully.  “I thought you would’ve been busy…marked maybe? Maybe mated…hmm but at last I must’ve not been important enough to answer yesterday during my mental breakdown.” He dramatics huffs out and you shake your head rapidly as you move to pay.

“No, no I wanted to. I swear I just wasn’t feeling the best and I honestly opened it and forgot to reply.” You answer honestly, he nodded, moving to make the coffee as you moved to the pickup counter, “Purple looks really good on you.” you sate, making him look over at you and wink with a flip of his hair.

“Oh I know, I saw an Alpha the other day and I swear he was gonna pop a knot.” His words had you shaking your head, giggling as he started to put the lids on the cups.

“Oh and what about that Beta of yours?” Your question made him freeze, studders of his breath as he looked at you.

“Tae-Taehyung is not my Beta ha! As if.” he mutters quickly, his hand pushing the cups into the cup holder and sliding it on the counter in front of you. His eyes moved back down to the counter as he let out a soft sigh. “He doesn’t even give me the time of day, even when I do stupid things to my hair like this…” his words makes you frown as you lean forward when said Beta walks from the back.

“Text me when your next day off, we’ll have a day to just nest and gossip?” Your whispered words make the smile return back onto his face as he nods, his hand reaching to press against yours as you straighten your back and smile at him.

“I’ll hold you to it.” he teasingly says as he steps back making you smile as you say a soft goodbye and start to head out, as you walk across the street you could help but take a deep breath in as the wind blows through your hair once again.  You felt relaxed in the clothes you were wearing, black flare pants with an oversized white button down one of your fathers old golden necklaces hanging around your neck  and your makeup was done naturally. The shoes were the flats Namjoon had gotten you , the shoes were probably some of the most comerbe dress shoes you’ve ever owned. The memory of the way he had sheepishly handed them to you in Yoongi's office as Yoongi tried to act like he had no clue what was going on. As you entered the building head start to the boys private elevator, the morning light was hitting it just right to see the golden tint on the doors, you moved to place your bag down and scan your badge that you had clipped onto your pants before you had climbed into your moms car.  As you do you hear a loud ‘Hey!’ making you look over to see someone walking towards you, a familiar face, one of an Omega that had a meeting with Hoseok not long ago.

“Hold the door please! I have meeting with Mr. Jung.”  You nod slightly letting her in, as you follow her. “I swear I was gonna go in the normal one but there were so many Alphas in the line I felt like a piece of meat.” She chuckles, her hand moving hair behind her ear as she shows you her perfect white straight teeth lines with a bright red lipstick. You felt stupid in you chapstick covered lips as you look away. “Hoseok has been trying to get me a temporary pass for when I need to come and go, but god their security is tough.”  You nod,awkwardly chuckling along with her, feeling unusually small yet so big at the same time. She was just as beautiful as the first time she had walked into the building, her black hair was styled almost like yours yet it was done much better than your own. Shinner, much more healthy, and her skin looked bare of any makeup, her eyes wide and bright. Her face was breathtaking, and very easy to look at. “I’m Park Sooyoung..but I go by Joy.”  Of course you do. You think, your eyes closing for a split second, hoping the ride would go faster even if it was only by a second.

“Jeon Y/n.” You reply back, head bowing her way as she smiles brightly at you, her eyes casting to the door as she lets out  a breath. As if she was hoping for the doors to split open as well, and the moment it did she rushed out and right to Hoseok's office making you pause after you stepped out. How welcoming Hoseok's scent was when the door opened without her knocking, how you heard a happy chirp of her name from him. It made jealousy stir in your chest yet you held it back. Knowing you had work to actually do today, that Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon no matter how much you hopped weren’t yours yet and you had to deal with others trying to find their way into their life. Yet you also logically knew, from not only emails and setting up this appointment that Joy was truly just trying to become a partner with the company and that she brought many new possibilities along with her. That she was no threat, especially since Namjoon had yet to bring anything up about her.

“Coffeeeee!” Jin cheers, making you blink rapidly, as the tall board Alpha stood in front of you, his hand grabbing the coffee holder, taking him out and taking a large sip as you chuckle a thim. “I’ll give Hoseok, you give Yoongis.” he states, making you nod as he places his coffee down at your shared desk, then grabs Hoseok's then hands you back the holder, making you walk to the opposite side of the hall. As you approached the door it was already swinging open. There stood Yoongis, his hair slicked back and his brown eyes looking you up and down, his shirt looked to be a white cashmere button down matched with black slacks and the same old shoes he always wears.

“Pup…Y/n.” He breathes out as he smiles at him, head tilting to the side as he ushered you in, making Jin laugh behind you. Looking over your shoulder you see him sitting down, a smile on his face as he types away on his computer making you huff as you walk into Yoongi's office. He suddenly  takes the coffee, and your coffee with it, and places it down onto his desk. He moves to sit up against his dark wooden desk hand reaching out to you, making you step forwards as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours. You feel the way his slightly dry yet soft hand rubs against yours, how he traces the back of your hand. The way his eyes never met yours as his eyebrows knit together as if he was trying to think about something to do, to say.  “How are you feeling?” he finally asked, looking up at you his face didn't show how he was feeling, though you felt like you could guess. Concern, curiosity, maybe guilt. Yet you didn’t see pity as he looked at you. “Is your back okay? I know Namjoon went over yesterday, but he..he didn’t tell us anything.” He whispered his eyes looking back down as he took a deep breath, the way his words shook head you stepped forward, dropping his hand as your hands moved to rest on his shoulders.

“I’m fine, I mean yeah I ache a bit, but I'm back on my meds regularly and I even brought myself..well no my mom made me bring myself an extra dose just in case.” you said, a small smile on your face as he looks up at you and smiles, nodding as he moves his hands to cup the base of your neck. Moving it down he leans up and presses his lips to make you smile against them. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips, and the taste of mint gum of some kind had your toes almost curling.  Pulling away he lets out a breath as you chuckle lightly at him, your hand moving to the base of his neck as you twirl it around his hair, it wasn’t crunchy like you expect the top of his head to be; it was the usual soft yet coarse feeling of his hair. The way your fingers moved made a purr pass his lips as his head moved forward. Surprising you as he buries his head into your sternum, his nose puffing warm breath after breath against you giggle as he groans against your skin.

“I’ve got to work.” You mumble after a few more seconds of him nuzzling against your chest, his arms locked behind your waist as he shakes his head no against you.

“No.” he mumbles, making you giggle as you try to push yourself away from him, feeling his lips press against your top.

“Yoongi.”

“No, I miss my sleeping buddy.” he mumbles, making you let out a belly laugh, feeling the way his  lips spread into a large smile as he lifts his head up. Legs spreading apart pulling you in between them as you look slightly down at him, the sound of his shoes hitting the ground made you look to see he was stretching his legs out, resting the back of his heels against the ground. Looking back on him, you see his eyes already on you, making you jut your head back in shock as you look at him.  “I’ve missed you.”

“It was twenty four hours.”

“Of hell.” He mumbled after, making you roll your eyes as you tried to pull away once again, hand flat against his shoulders, making him pout up at you. “Do you not care?” he teasingly pouts up at you making you roll your eyes at him.

“I need to work, you know, to get paid.”

“I sign these said paychecks.”

“I don't want them for free, I actually like work.” “Oh do you?” He raises his eyebrow up at you, his tone playful as his nose reaches up and nudges yours.

“I never knew you to be this cuddly.” You huff, making him smile up at you as he finally lets you go, but as you slide away from him one of his hands moves down your arms and back to your hand. “Seriously.”

“What I missed you..and I...I know I dont show my emotions very well but I really do care about you and I just..I'm technically the head of the pack and I don't know how to do this whole courting thing correctly.” He pauses as you knit your eyebrows and move forward, closer to him once again. “I know Joon told you..but I fucked up so bad with Hoseok and even worse with Namjoon I feel like…and I want your courrting to be perfect.” His words had you hesitantly moving forward, wanting to cradle his head against you but the way his hair was styled you were scared to mess it up. Yet he moved his body back to wrap around yours. “I need it to go as smoothly as it can..so please..just…just let me know things about you.” You nod, pulling back as you look at him and smile.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything and everything.” His words had you giggling as you pulled back and moved to sit down, grabbing your coffee as you stared at him.

“You get to tell Jin why I'm not helping him.” Your words had him laughing as he watched you sip on your coffee.  Perring at him as you do, a playful smile playing on your lips as he shook his head, letting out a laugh as he moved to lean onto his desk closer to you.

“I think I can handle that.”

“Then by all means ask away.”

“Favorite color.”

“Periwinkle.”

“Favorite food.”

“Depends on the day.”

“Fine..what's your favorite food today?”

“Ooo…..my mom's Jjinppang-mandu.” You smile down at your cup of coffee as he nods a smile on his face as you chuckle. “Honestly my mom's cooking is my favorite food.”

“She cooks a lot?”

“Yeah, my grandparents own a little restaurant in Gwangju.”

“I’d love to go sometimes.” His words made your ears start to burn at the mention of him meeting more of your family. Though the smile on your face was almost painful as you looked at him and nodded, taking another sip of your coffee.

“Yeah I’d love to take you guys one day.” He nods, as he takes in a deep breath and smiles at you.

“Sooo any boyfriends or courting relationships before us?”

“No..I mean not officially there was this one guy like right after I presented..but he never made it official..never took me on dates or let me scent him..he made comments on my body a lot..my dad hated his ass.” You mumble your eyes knitting together as you take a look back up at him, seeing his jaw clench as he stares down at the ground.

“We..we haven’t made it official..or..or taken you out on a date.” He stutters out as he looks back at you, eyes wide making you wave your hand, shaking your head making him shake his head in return. “No no, don't say it doesn’t matter, it does..I did the same thing with Namjoon and I still feel like shit about it. Im…Im taking you out on a date tonight, just me and you and I can get to know you better than..the other two can ask you out on their own dates.”

“You really don’t have to.” You respond, making him set his cup down as he stands, moving to bend down in front of you, his own hand taking your cup of coffee and setting it down onto his desk behind him. As he looks back at you, he chirps at you, trying to comfort you with the sound making you close your eyes.

“Y/n, I’d love to take you out on a date, I’d love to take you out on many dates. Take you to my favorite spots, while you take me to yours.” His words had you peeling your eyes open, looking at him as you nod. “Cause that's what we do, when we like someone right?” He asked your, his eyebrow once again knitting together making your nod.

“I think so?  I’m not entirely sure how this stuff works..you’re the one with two mates.” That had him snorting as he rested his forehead against your thigh.

“Yeah,yeah, Hoseok was just very determined and he took the lead on the..the relationship aspect of it all…he was the one to officially bring Namjoon in too.” Yoongi sighed as he lifted his head and stood up, “but I'm gonna be the one to start doing this right..I need to.” he whispered that last part,  “I’m goons do  better with out courtship you than I did with our boys.”

Tag list (Open):

@kth-kpoplover @alex4243 @malyxsoulpersonal @purelyecstacy @ryuyalana  @nlost21 @xanny9 1 @barbyisafangirl @munchyn. @lashaysaurusrex @scentedsope @purpleheartsfortae @btsforlif  @barbikatherine @mauranglc @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal  @keepyourdreamsalive @ellethemoon​ @thickemadame  @chimchimooo73 @thickemadame​ @lazykingcompute r @channiespup @yoongitoo @missmoxxiesworld @4evahevah @schmetterlingsbluetentee @moonchilreneverywhere @yeojunswhore @shereen1603 @lovelysky15 @tinieretro @mininimmy @caratarmy131 @milopenne  @fauxthephoenix @cuteipat @lustremyg @cstobitk @rosexbangtan @tinyoonsblog @bitchyzombienacho @agooddeedinawearyworld @rue331@queenc22x @sanislifealways  @yourfakerthanbarbie @agustneeds @livetay84 @black-rose-29 @miriamxsworld @namjoonia@taeyohonic @thefirewasfriendly @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @juju-227592 @brit97 @slytherindigo @l7bangtan @openup-yourmind @that-author  @so-da-1 @kyrah-williams  @schokoshaker @wearehidingoutinadream @cloudykookie​ @likeshatteredrainbowglass​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @bt21tatakey​ @fallendreams97​ @carolinexkpop @diamonddia-mond @imnotokayfuckup @carolinexkpop @blushyrawrz @1derland4me  @dirtyangel17 @ayoo-bangtan @littlelovebug98

#bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts series #bts x plus size reader #bts x chubby reader #bts poly #bts poly x reader #bts a/o/b #bts omegaverse #bts yoongi smut #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi angst #bts alpha yoongi #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts hoseok smut #bts hoseok fluff #bts hoseok angst #bts hoseok x reader #bts alpha hoseok #bts namjoon #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon angst #bts namjoon x reader #bts omega namjoon #bts omega reader #bts x omega reader

[casuallyimagining]

Fallen (2) | myg

Min Yoongi x Female Reader

➢ Summary: If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then where does that leave you? Spurned by your ex-fiance, you seek the one person who can help. But as it turns out, the price of revenge may be a little more than you bargained for.

➢ Word Count: 11,874 ➢ Genre:Fallen Angel AU, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst ➢ Warnings:homelessness, abusive ex, manipulation, emotional abuse, forced isolation, major character injury, blood, mentions of critiques of organized western religion, threats of harm, brief mentions of an almost-panic attack, arguing, suspected stalking, smut, unprotected sex, loss of virginity (which is a dumb social construct), alcohol consumption

➢ Notes:Thank you to @daechwitatamic and @madbutgloriouspond for reading through this fic and for listening to me talk about it literally every day. And many thanks to @btsmosphere for helping me with the angst, and @luaspersona and @vsualitae for their help with the smut (and more!).

Fallen Masterlist

You call out sick the next day. And the next one. Suddenly, it’s two weeks later and you’re not quite sure how you got there. It’s like how when you’re driving, and nothing’s really happening, and you can’t exactly remember the past few miles. There’s a fog that’s been eating at the edges of your brain. Your motivation is shot–you go to work, and come home, and go to sleep, going through the motions, but not actually participating in your life. 

You feel like shit. It feels like everything in your chest has been turned to lead. Your stomach has permanently sank somewhere just below your feet, your heart is heavy, your lungs feel tight. 

And what’s worse, it’s started to snow. 

You sit on the steps leading up to your apartment, forearms resting on your knees. Snow falls gently around you. It’s just now starting to stick, the sidewalk and road covered in a light dusting. It’s cold–you’re in your coat and a knitted beanie, so you aren’t freezing, but you’re the only one stupid enough to be sitting outside at a time like this. But there’s something about how calm and still the world feels right now.

When you first moved into this neighborhood a year and a half ago, it hadn’t been your favorite. There are no tree-lined streets, no parks nearby, the buses are always late, and the closest subway stop is down three flights of stairs. But after Dawoon, it became your refuge, too far beneath your ex for him to bother with you. You sigh and lean back against your door and watch the snow drift down around you. A black SUV drives by slowly, the third one this week. You have a sinking feeling it’s Dawoon checking in on you. You can feel the telltale signs of panic start to niggle in the back of your mind, and you take a deep breath to try to prevent it.

You sigh and force yourself to stand, and for a moment, your thoughts drift like the snow. Despite everything, you find yourself thinking of Yoongi and whether or not he’s cold. The demon attack had destroyed his coat, and no matter what had happened, you didn’t want him to freeze.

Once inside, you hang your coat by the door and collapse onto the couch. Passively, you observe your apartment. It’s not much–one bedroom, small kitchen, a living room–but it’s yours. But lately, it’s felt… off. Nothing bad necessarily. It’s still your home, still your stuff. But every once in a while, you’ll walk into a room or come home and something will seem different. Sometimes, you can identify it. A coffee cup where you don’t remember leaving it. A blanket neatly folded on the back of your couch. At first, you’d thought it was weird. But now, your brain is so fogged over, you’re pretty sure you’re just doing things and forgetting about them.

You’re exhausted, despite the fact that you haven’t done much, and when you turn on the tv, you can feel that you’ll probably be falling asleep halfway through whatever you decide to watch, so you grab a blanket. Better to be prepared to fall asleep than wake up cold later. You squint at the tv, trying desperately to focus on the old sitcom you’d flipped to, but you can feel yourself slipping. You’re almost gone–in that gooey area somewhere between wake and dreaming where you’re aware of your surroundings but only barely–when you feel the blanket tug up and over your shoulders. 

You snuggle in and before you know it, you’re asleep.

Something wakes you up. You’re not sure what exactly, but it was definitely something. A noise in the house. Or… something. You sit up, grabbing the blanket and draping it around your shoulders before it falls to the ground. Nothing is wrong in the apartment, at least as far as you can tell. Nothing is out of place, no weird sounds, no mysterious movements. You almost have yourself convinced that it was something outside that woke you up when you hear it.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

It’s slow, measured, purposefully quiet. 

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

In the kitchen, maybe? Slowly, you stand to look. The light isn’t on, but you can still hear the gentle flapping. Or maybe it’s pattering? It doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t be happening in your kitchen. You grab the television remote–ammunition, just in case–and tug the blanket closer around your neck. Nothing can hurt you when you’re under a blanket. At least, you hope that’s how that works.

You creep toward the kitchen, hiding behind the door frame. You can hear whatever it is pacing in front of your cabinets, though the footsteps don’t sound normal. Back and forth, back and forth, from the refrigerator to the sink. A burglar with anxiety, perhaps?

With a deep breath, you step into the room and flick on the light, readying yourself to throw the remote. The figure–you can see now it’s a person–freezes, hunched over slightly. You can see the muscles in their back tense, and you can tell they’re going to flee.

“Don’t,” you warn, voice low. The figure sighs and hangs its head, turning to face you, and seeing the mop of black hair again brings your anger to the surface again. The blanket slides off your shoulders. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you,” Yoongi practically whispers.

You scoff. “So you decided to break into my house and creep around in my kitchen?”

“I was afraid Dawoon would-”

“Like you care.”

“What? Of course I- Why would you think I don’t care?”

You rub your face. You’re tired, in the obvious way–it’s late, and you haven’t been sleeping well–but you’re also just drained. You’re sick of being mad, sick of being scared, sick of being on-edge. “Please just… just go, Yoongi.”

“No.” He says it firmly, takes a step toward you. 

He’s close enough to reach out and touch now. But you don’t. Even though a part of you remembers how comforting his presence was. Even though a part of you admits that his presence is still kind of comforting.

His hand brushes your forearm and you recoil. “Don’t act like you’re trying to help. I told you I didn’t need it anymore.”

“I want to help. I do care. If you would just listen-” He grabs your elbows gently and you can feel your blood pressure spike.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, hitting him. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Leave me alone.” With each sentence, your hand connects with his chest, but he doesn’t let go. 

“Not until you listen-”

“You left. Don’t you know how much that hurts? We…” The words stick in your throat. “And then you were just gone. Without an explanation. I wasn’t sure if I’d done something wrong, or-.”

“Of course not, I-”

“You said you’d help, but now everything is worse. Leave. me. alone.” You hear your voice crack, and suddenly, you’re aware that you’re crying. You aren’t exactly sure why you’re crying, only that you are and there’s no way you’ll be able to stop. It’s like a freight truck of emotions has crashed into you at highway speeds–emotions that you didn’t even know you were feeling. 

He lets you hit him, takes every blow on the chest easily and unflinchingly. Quickly, your energy runs out. You’re positive it doesn’t hurt him anymore, if it ever did, but you keep at it anyway. Much like the crying, you’re not sure you can stop. Ever so gently, Yoongi tugs on your arms, pulling you toward him. You fight it weakly and try to get out of his grip, but even if you weren’t exhausted, he’s much stronger. He pulls you close, trapping your arms between your bodies. But his hold is strong, and he’s warm, and there’s something about feeling his steady breathing that soothes you, if only slightly.

“He’s never going to leave me alone,” you lament softly, squeezing your eyes shut. “Things are just going to keep getting worse until…”

“Hey, kid, no.” Yoongi’s voice is gentle, kind. You get the sense that he’d use the same tone when talking to a frightened animal. “I know it’s tough now, but-”

“What do you know? You haven’t been here.”

He hums, and it reverberates in his chest. This close to him, you can feel it, and your stomach–the damned traitor–flutters at the sensation. “Not that you could see, no.” You feel him sigh. “I’m sorry I left. I could sense something had changed with Dawoon and wanted to find out what it was, see if I could prevent anything from happening. When I came back, it was too late.”

“You saw him at the bar?”

“Everything.”

“Then why-”

“If he had known I was there, it just would have made it worse. And you, dear kid,” he squeezes you gently, almost playfully, “are notoriously very bad at not acknowledging me when I’m trying to be sneaky.” You can’t see it, but you can feel him smile. Suddenly, you’re warmer, cozier, and you can feel some of your exhaustion melting.

You sigh and wiggle your arms out from between you. You’re still mad that he left–seriously, who leaves after kissing someone?--but it makes you feel better to know his reasoning. It’s nice to know that even then, he was still trying to help, even if it was a little misguided and a lot frustrating. But you don’t want to focus on that now. You tuck your chin over his shoulder, the one the demons had injured only a few weeks ago, and your arms fall to wrap around his waist. 

For a moment, you stand there in silence, wrapped up in the warmth of him. It’s comforting, you decide, having him here. He even smells comforting, like vanilla and oranges and winter and a bit of smoke. You sigh, and his grip around you tightens.

“It’ll get better,” he vows softly. “I’ll make it better. I promise.”

It’s weird, having Yoongi back. Not because you don’t want him to be back, but because it’s… it’s just weird. Part of you expects him to leave again unexpectedly–that one day, you’ll turn around to say something and he’ll have left without a word. 

Part of you wonders if that would make things easier.

But you’d notice if he was gone because you barely sleep. A fun side-effect of Dawoon’s torment. Almost any noise wakes you up, from the natural shifting and settling of your apartment to noises out on the street. All total, you’ve probably gotten 20 hours of sleep in the past week. You’re surviving on energy drinks and ice water, chugging one can of liquid caffeine just before you start your shift at the bar and downing nearly frozen water for the few hours you have to be coherent enough to serve people. You aren’t really sure how you get home, but you’re pretty sure Yoongi’s responsible, because he’s been following you everywhere.

You startle, sitting bolt upright from where you were curled into the armrest of the couch and frantically looking around. From beside you, Yoongi soothes you back down from the metaphorical ledge, his gentle shushing and a warm hand on your arm lulling your heart rate back down to a healthy level.

“I heard a noise,” you mumble, tugging your blanket up so it covers more of your torso. You’re exhausted, and you can feel your eyes drooping, but you will yourself to stay awake.

“The tv,” he explains, and when you turn your head, you see he’s watching some movie you’ve definitely seen before but are too tired to identify. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve been jumpy and on-edge for weeks now.”

Weeks. The days had started to run together, a blur of hypervigilance and paranoia. You can’t trust that Dawoon wasn’t watching you, can’t guarantee that he hasn’t hired someone to follow you or watch your house. The black SUV continues to circle your neighborhood–several times a day, now, it’s parked just down the block. Always the same shiny black with tinted windows. You never look too long at it for fear of what you’ll see. 

You sigh, smoothing out the creases in your blanket. “I don’t want to give him any more reason…” You don’t finish your thought. He already knows about Yoongi. That’s more than enough reason for him to ruin your life again.

You reach for the iced coffee sitting on the side table, chasing the straw around the glass for a moment before finally honing in on it. But before you can take a sip, Yoongi is taking the drink from your hands gently. “You don’t need more caffeine. You need a break,” he says softly. His eyes are gentle as he looks at you. Suddenly, you feel scolded, and you tug the blanket even higher.

“I don’t know that we can just declare it’s break time. That’s not how this works.”

“We need to get you somewhere you’ll feel safe. Somewhere you won’t feel like he’s constantly watching you.”

“How? The second I step out that door…” You sigh. Yoongi means well. He’s trying. You don’t want to yell at him again.

He shrugs. “I could take us.”

“Like the diner?” He nods. “Do you know anywhere safe?”

“Do you?”

The question gives you pause. Do you know anywhere Dawoon would never think to look for you? Somewhere safe from him and his influence and his threats. Maybe, but…

“Why don’t you pick where?” you ask quietly. What if you pick wrong?

“It should be somewhere you can relax.” Yoongi’s hand finds your thigh over the blanket and he gives a comforting squeeze. “I don’t know that I could guess.”

You hum. A break does sound nice. A day without the black SUV parked outside sounds nice. A day to actually relax for the first time in forever sounds nice. 

“When?” you ask, allowing your head to fall back against the couch.

Yoongi mirrors you, his dark hair falling into his face, casting deep shadows across his delicate features in the low light of the tv. “Whenever you want.”

“What if it costs money?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Yoongi.” You didn’t want to steal anything. Almost all of the relaxing places you could think of involved renting a hotel room or something.

For a moment, he’s silent, his catlike dark eyes clouded in thought. Then, he smiles cheekily. “Pick somewhere cheap.”

You roll your eyes. But surprisingly, you do know of somewhere. Yoongi’s gaze meets yours, and you can see the question behind it. For a moment, it’s like he can read your thoughts. And maybe he can, because silently, he turns his hand over from where it still is resting against your thigh and he raises an eyebrow. 

Ready? The question is silent, but it’s as obvious as if he’d said it out loud. And without hesitation, you take his hand.

“Think of where you want to go.” His voice, soft and deep, enters your mind, and you aren’t sure if he spoke or if communicating with thoughts is just something he can do. But you listen to him, and your thoughts drift to your destination. 

Yoongi squeezes your hand, and a warm breeze picks up. You know what you’re in for this time, but the lurch of your stomach still sucks. Suddenly, you’re standing, and everything around you is dark. If it weren’t for the warmth of Yoongi’s hand clutching yours, you would think you were alone.

“The breaker panel is in the corner,” you say quietly, dropping his hand to go find it. 

There’s not much to go off–your memories of this place are fuzzy with age–but eventually, your blind groping leads you to a metal panel set against the wall. You open it and flick on a couple switches, and you can hear the hum of a refrigerator coming to life in another corner of the room. Suddenly, light envelops you, and you blink a few times at the brightness. Yoongi stands by the door, his hand on the light switch as he inspects where you’ve brought him. 

The cabin is small, just one large room with an offshoot for the bathroom. There’s a small kitchen in the corner, with a wood-fired stove and a drop sink. Close to the fireplace is an old couch that you know pulls out to be a full size bed. There are curtains on the windows, dusty old things that used to have a pattern but it’s impossible to tell what it was. There’s a frame opposite the bathroom that used to have a mattress on it, but it’s no longer there.

It’s freezing, and you cross the room to the door beside the fireplace. You open it, and a gust of icy wind blows in some snow. It’s been years since you’ve been here, and you have no idea how long it’s been since anyone else was here, but just outside the door is a pile of chopped wood, perfectly stacked waist-high. You grab an armful of logs and return inside. 

Yoongi watches you stack the logs in the fireplace, and you notice that somehow, he has a pair of bags at his feet. You don’t question it. At this point, you’re not sure what the extent of his powers are, but you’re pretty sure he can do almost anything. It only takes a few moments for you to get the fire going, and once the flames are strong enough, you collapse onto the couch. 

“What time is it?” you ask. The exhaustion has returned, hitting you like a freight train in the process. Your whole body feels like it’s made of lead, and you’re not sure that you could stand again if you wanted to.

“Nearly three in the morning.” Yoongi turns the light off and joins you on the couch. Somehow, he has a blanket, and he drapes it gently over you. “Where are we?”

“My uncle’s cabin. He only uses it during hunting season.” You stifle a yawn. “Dawoon and I came here once in college when we needed a break. There’s no way he remembers it. It’s the only place I could think of.”

He hums. In the flickering light of the fire, you can’t read him. Not that you really ever could. He’s sitting beside you, the warmth of his body radiating into you. Half of the blanket is draped across his lap. Cautiously, he lifts an arm and tucks the blanket tighter around you. “Get some sleep, kid.”

A high-pitched whistle jolts you awake, and you sit bolt upright. For a moment, you’re confused. This is not your living room. It’s colder, and the couch is far more uncomfortable. But then you hear Yoongi swearing under his breath off to your left, and you relax slightly. The cabin. That’s right.

You groan and force yourself to stand, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders as you meander the few feet into the kitchen. Yoongi shoots you a small, sheepish smile as he guides you to the table. “Sorry for the noise,” he says softly, helping you tug the blanket more securely around you. “I was hoping to catch it before it did that.”

You almost ask what he’s talking about, but then he’s placing a steaming mug of tea in front of you, and it starts to make sense. The whistling. He must have found a kettle in one of the cupboards. The mug warms your fingers as you grip it, and when he pulls out a chair and sits close enough that his knee bumps yours under the table, the rest of you is warm, too.

It’s quiet as you sit there, sipping the tea Yoongi made you. It’s… not great, admittedly. You can only guess how old the tea leaves are, but it’s warm, and it’s sweet that he made it, so you drink it anyway. You didn’t get a great look at it last night, but the cabin seems cleaner somehow. You wonder if Yoongi slept at all, or if he even needs sleep. There’s so much you don’t know about him.

There’s so much you want to know about him.

Luckily, Yoongi packed you a book. You still aren’t 100 percent sure how or when he’d packed bags for you, but thankfully, he’d been thorough. It’s surprisingly nice, being holed up with him here. The cabin is cozy, despite its age and disuse. The couch is shockingly comfortable to sit in–though notably less so to sleep in–and you spend most of the day curled up against the armrest reading your book. 

You’re vaguely aware of Yoongi puttering around the cabin. At some point in the afternoon, he opens the door and shrieks at the snow that gets blown in with the wind. But other than that, he’s mostly quiet. Part of you wants to talk to him. Part of you isn’t sure what to say. So you let it go, until it eats away at you.

He must know that something is up because when it’s dark out, after he’s done tidying the kitchen, Yoongi sits beside you on the couch. “Is something wrong?”

You sigh and close your eyes. You’d been staring into the fire, and now you can see the dancing of the flames behind your eyes. For a moment, it’s quiet. He doesn’t push you to talk, simply sits there and lets you stew in your thoughts for as long as it takes. He’s close, close enough to touch, to hold, if you wanted. But you don’t move. Even though you do kind of want to.

“What’s it like?” you ask softly. “The afterlife?”

“Where’s this coming from?”

You shrug. “Just curious.”

“It’s…” He sighs, takes his time, chooses his words carefully. “They say it’s different for everyone.”

“You haven’t seen it?”

“Only the archangels can go there. Well, them and the big guy’s chosen ones.” You only hum in response. “Why?”

You’re not sure why you asked. Only that you’d had a thought and now you can’t shake it. “When I’m… 80,” you start carefully, “you’ll still be this?” You gesture vaguely at his face, his body. He makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a wordless question, that says he doesn’t fully agree. “No?”

“When I fell, I didn’t think I’d have any powers at all.” His voice is quiet as he navigates his thoughts. “I’d heard of so many angels who had fallen in love with humans and who fell because of it. They lost their powers on the way down. But when I pulled myself out of the river, I… hadn’t lost anything. The snakes said that the loss is because those other angels loved a human. They said it’s a gradual process.”

“That’s good for you, right? You still have your powers.”

“I’ve been getting weaker,” he admits softly. “I’m not sure how much is left.”

You sit there for a moment, confused. Why would his powers be weakening if he’s not… Oh.

Oh.

The only sound is the crackling of the fire. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you are, and you’re not sure it’s all from the fire. Yoongi is sitting awfully close, his hand is mere centimeters from your own, your knees are almost touching. There’s something fluttering in the pit of your stomach. Is that… nerves? You aren’t sure why you’re nervous. It’s Yoongi. Despite everything, he’s been there for you. He’s never judged you, or thought less of you. Even when you’d hidden things from him, even when you’d literally hired him to help you get revenge on Dawoon, he’d always been kind. He’d always treated you like a person. Like you were worthy of respect and care.

Maybe it wasn’t nerves. 

When you turn to him, he’s already looking at you, dark eyes reflecting the flickering of the flames in the hearth. Before you can think, you’re reaching out, pulling yourself towards him. Your lips meet. He doesn’t react. You pull away ever so slightly, worried that maybe you’d read the situation wrong, that maybe he hadn’t meant you. But then his hands are on your waist, bringing you back, pulling you closer. His lips, still a little chapped, mould against yours perfectly.

Your hands cup his face, his skin soft against your touch. Your thumbs smooth across the apples of his cheeks, and the soft hum that it elicits from him rumbles in your own chest. He pulls away slightly, breathless and wide-eyed, and he adjusts his grip on your waist. There’s a moment that passes between you, a question and answer that isn’t voiced, checking in, making sure this is okay. And then he squeezes your hip, and one of your hands slides into his hair. 

Kissing Yoongi this time is different. The first time, weeks ago, was tentative, testing the waters. It was two people navigating an unexplored ocean together, unsure of where things were going or where you’d end up. But this? This was more purposeful, more direct. It’s tasting the waffles he’d made for dinner still on his lips, it’s the synchronous movements of your lips, your hands, your bodies. It’s bumping noses and clashing teeth and tugging hair. Desperate and passionate and sweet.

His hands are everywhere, gripping the dip in your waist, the curve of your ass. He hums and gives tentative squeezes everywhere he finds that he likes. And he seems to like quite a lot. His hands travel up, up, up your body, exploring your curves over your clothes, following the lines of your sides. He pauses at your ribs, thumbs resting just below the wire of your bra, and shifts his hold once again so that one of his hands is behind your back, pressing you closer, as if he’s trying to merge your bodies, mould them together like clay.

You kiss your way away from his mouth, peppering kisses along his jaw, down the column of his neck until you get to the spot. Just above his clavicle, almost under the neckline of his shirt. You leave a kiss there and he groans deliciously, deep and gravelly and guttural. Amused, you repeat the action, nipping his skin ever so slightly. He jolts under you, another groan rumbling through his chest as his hold on your side tightens ever so slightly. His touch is pure fire, hot and all-consuming. You should maybe be worried about what he’s doing to you—what he’s done—but god, you would pay anything for it to keep going. 

“Off,” you say impatiently, tugging at his sweater–your sweater. The cream fabric hangs off his body. It’s cute how big it is on him. You help him pull it over his head and drop it somewhere behind the couch. Soon after, your own shirt joins it. 

Yoongi’s hands wander tentatively, his fingertips barely brushing your skin as he drags them up your sides. They settle at your ribs, his long fingers splaying against you, thumbs gently caressing the silken cups of your bra. Your eyes wander his torso as your hands slide up his chest, stopping at three pink and angry scratches on his left shoulder. 

“These aren’t healing very well,” you manage, tracing the slashes with your finger as he laves at your neck, nipping and sucking at a tender spot on your nape. 

“Needed the energy for other things,” he mumbles against your skin. 

You hum and press a gentle kiss to the scratches. Yoongi shifts his weight under you and suddenly, you can feel him—all of him—straining against his jeans. And god, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you. 

You crave him in so many ways. You’re already drenched, you can feel it when you shift and move in his lap, the wetness and need in your core. But you also just want him, want to curl up in him and make a home and never leave. It’s sweet and not entirely unexpected how gentle he is. It’s nice to feel wanted for a change. It’s nice to feel revered, the way you do with him. 

That feeling is only exacerbated when you reach to unclasp your bra. For a moment, Yoongi’s hands keep the fabric in place, his thumbs still gently caressing over the silken material. But then one of the straps falls down and the cup slips a little bit. More of your skin is exposed, and he allows the whole thing to fall off. You scan his face, feeling a little self-conscious, but all you find is wide eyes and awe. You can see the flush affect his body, watch it spread up his chest and neck to tinge his cheeks darker.

“Can-can I…?” His question trails off, but it’s clear what he wants–his fingers twitch ever so slightly, his hand reaches toward you almost imperceptibly. And for a moment, nothing else matters. Your past doesn’t matter, your argument doesn’t matter, it’s all gone. The only thing left is the man in front of you, looking at you like you hung the fucking moon, asking for permission to touch you.

It’s that moment that you realize you’d give him the world if he asked.

You whisper a breathless, “You can do anything you want,” and that’s all it takes. He leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest, his hands finding your breasts. At first, he’s tentative, gently squeezing and massaging your skin like a cat. But then, he seems to get brave, kissing his way to the valley between them before choosing a side and trailing barely there kisses to your left breast. He’s gentle–everything he does is gentle–and he lets out a shuddering sigh, resting his forehead against your chest for a brief moment. You laugh a little, his warm breath tickles your skin, and your hands find his hair once again, playing with the long locks. They’re a little damp now, though you’re not sure if he’s warm from the fire or from the exertion.

You tangle your fingers in the softness of his hair, tugging ever so gently. You rock your hips slightly, and the friction between your bodies elicits a noise of pleasure from you both. You guide his face back up, kissing up his jaw until you capture his lips. You move again, and you can feel the groan rumble in his chest. Carefully, you untangle your legs from around him and stand. Your hands travel down, sliding down his chest, your nails gently raking against his skin until you get to the waist of his pants. He lifts his hips enough that you can tug the offending fabric off. His jeans and boxers pool around his ankles and he kicks them away. You take the opportunity to shimmy out of your own pants.

You return to him, your knees caging his thighs, and for the first time, you notice that he seems nervous. He’s drawn into himself. His hands are no longer actively exploring your body, but rather, they settle rather limply on your hips. His eyes are big and dark, a small pout sits on his chapped lips, and he looks… awkward. For a moment, you consider asking about it, but then, it hits you. He is nervous. He’s an angel. Notoriously, angels are pure, virtuous. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d never even thought about sex.

“Hey,” you say softly, cupping his jaw and kissing him gently. You want to distract him a little, get his mind from wherever it’s gone. “You okay?”

He hums a question, his eyes finding yours after a moment, and nods. “Yeah. Just… this is new.”

“New is… good?”

“Yeah.” He squeezes your hip. “Yeah, kid. New is good. It’s… a lot. But it’s good.”

You watch him for a second, searching his eyes for signs that he’s hiding anything. The last thing you want is for this to be a bad experience, for him to not enjoy it. But his eyes are blown out with excitement and lust, and he gives you a small nod before kissing you. You hum into it, playfully nipping at his lower lip. He laughs and pinches your side before his hands start to wander again, one coming up to cup your breast, his thumb ghosting across your nipple. It sends shivers through your body and causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. He smiles when he sees your reaction, leaning forward to place a kiss just above your left breast.

Carefully, you reach between your bodies, finding his cock on touch alone. He’s painfully stiff. You hadn’t let yourself notice it until now, too concerned with whether or not Yoongi was okay, but you take the time now to appreciate him. He’s heavy in your hand, a noticeable vein running along the underside. Slowly, gently, you move your hand around him, running your thumb across the slit, collecting the beads of precum that had started to leak out and spreading it along his shaft. You barely get two pumps in before his hips are stuttering, his eyes fluttering closed as he lets out a soft moan. Very quickly, he’s reduced to a breathy, squirming mess. You can tell that he won’t last and you let him go, trailing kisses along his jaw. His hands slip down your sides, and when his fingertips brush against the fabric of your underwear, he whines.

“Take these off,” he mumbles, trying to paw them away. You raise up a little, your attention almost fully on that spot on his neck just above his clavicle, and he slides your underwear off your hips. You easily untangle yourself from him to stand and let them fall the rest of the way off, and much like Yoongi’s jeans and boxers, you kick them out of the way. 

You climb back into his lap, and pull away, both satisfied with the mark you’ve made on his skin and wanting to check in with him. His dark eyes meet yours and nods ever so slightly, his breathing already heavy. You take his cock in your hand and line him up with your entrance, dragging the tip through your folds to make things easier. You’re so wet that sinking down onto him, despite his girth, is easy. He gasps and you move slowly, easing yourself down until he’s completely buried inside of you. The feeling is strange and intimate–stretched but not painful, full but not overly so–and you fight the urge to lean down and kiss him.

“Holy shit.” He lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling against the back of the couch. It strikes you that this is the first time you’ve ever heard him swear. “Give me a second.” And you do. You still as much as possible, letting him get used to the feeling. It takes a moment, but eventually he nods and you begin to move.

One hand buried in his hair, the other lightly clinging to his shoulder, you slowly roll your hips. Yoongi lets out a heavy breath, swearing quietly. His eyes never leave your face but his hands roam, coming up to squeeze your breasts, gripping your hips, dragging up your sides. It’s cute how much he seems to crave that skin-on-skin contact, even now.

When you start to bounce, he practically loses his damn mind, his eyes fluttering half-closed. He groans deeply with every stroke you make, the sound rumbling in his chest and into your core. His chest rises and falls quickly, and you can tell he’s already starting to get close. Even still, he’s looking at you. 

It’s weird. With Dawoon, you would have felt like he was judging you, trying to pick out any sort of imperfection as you chase your high. But with Yoongi, you feel like the watching is part of his pleasure, like he’s trying to commit the moment to memory, like he’s worshiping you and your body.

You alternate like that, bouncing and rolling your hips, changing speeds based on how it feels for you and how he reacts. It doesn’t take long for him to start to squirm a little. He squeezes your hip tightly and lets out a little whine.

“Pressure,” he whispers, gesturing vaguely to his tummy.

You nod. “That’s good,” you encourage, tugging slightly on his hair. He groans. “Tell me when it’s too much, ‘kay?”

He hums. Or, at least, you think it’s a hum. It’s somewhere between a hum and a high-pitched whine. But he nods, too, so at least it’s positive. You abandon your grip on his hair and reach down between your bodies, the tips of your fingers finding your clit easily. You chase your own high, his moans and whines a beautiful underscoring for it, and soon enough, there’s a pressure building in your core, tightening almost too much.

“Too much,” he warns, echoing your own thoughts. He’s tense, his shoulders are practically at his ears, and his eyes are squeezed shut.

You chuckle softly. “Relax,” you manage to breathe out, cupping his cheek with the hand that was on his shoulder. “You’re good, right? Feels good?”

“Yeah.”

“Just relax.” You lean in and kiss him softly, slowing your movements for the moment. “Let go if you feel it. It’s okay.”

And with a few more rolls of your hips, he’s coming undone, his face is all scrunched up and he lets out a strangled groan. You ride him through it and follow shortly after, the coil snapping and all of the tension in your body coming to an impossible head before releasing all at once. You fall down into the wave crash of your pleasure, your grip on Yoongi’s shoulder keeping you grounded.

He’s breathing heavily when you focus back in, and you can feel him starting to soften inside of you. Before you can even climb off his lap in search of a towel to clean up, the sound of a sheet being unfurled permeates the cabin. Yoongi’s wings appear suddenly, folded up behind him somewhat comfortably. He looks just as surprised as you do, and the dark flush creeps up his chest again. 

You wet a cloth and clean yourself up before returning to Yoongi, who is still on the couch. Gently, you wipe him off. He hisses at the contact, apparently still very sensitive, and you mumble a soft, “I know, I’m sorry.” 

Finally, you climb back onto the couch, curling into his chest. He holds you close, an arm around your shoulder tightly. And after a second, his wing folds around you, too, almost protectively. The feathers are soft on your skin, even the broken and damaged ones, the downy tendrils like a whisper as they settle into place. You reach out and stroke the feathers along the top ridge and the wing twitches away as Yoongi lets out a hiss.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask quickly, your hand immediately freezing mid-air.

“No.” He pulls you closer. “No just… they’re sensitive right now.”

“From…?”

He shrugs. “Probably. I’ve never...”

“Ah.” You hum and place a soft kiss to his chest.

Yoongi lets out a noise somewhere between a hum and a grunt, but says nothing else. The room falls quiet except for the crackling of the fire. It’s getting low–you’ll have to put another log on soon. But you have time, so you reach behind you and pull the blanket from where you had haphazardly draped it across the back corner of the couch earlier. You cover both of your bodies up with it and snuggle in, your head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Ever so gently, you trace part of the three angry, pink scars that run from below his clavicle to his mid-back. His skin, golden and beautiful in the light of the fire, pebbles with goosebumps, but he otherwise doesn’t react.

There are things you need to say to him, but part of you–a pretty big part–is scared. If this is going to happen, you need to be able to be honest with him. You need to feel like you don’t have to hide your feelings. 

You need to be able to trust him to not leave.

Still, you’re scared. Partly because you don’t want to dampen everything that just happened, but also because what if he does leave? You’re not sure you can take that kind of devastating heartbreak again, the kind that only comes from being abandoned and betrayed by the person you love most. You don’t have it in you to start over again, you’re sure of that.

But it’s unfair to keep it bottled up, both to you and to Yoongi, so you take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your hand stills and flattens over his heart. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you can feel his heartbeat under your touch, steady and rhythmic. It comforts you, grounds you.

“Yoongi?” His name is quiet on your tongue, and for a moment, you aren’t sure that he’s heard you. His focus is on the fire, watching the flames dance in the hearth. But then, he hums an acknowledgement, his thumb gently rubbing against your shoulder, and you continue. “There’s something I need to say.”

If you were braver, you’d sit up. You’d have this conversation facing him. You’d look him in the eye as you spoke. But you aren’t brave–at least, right now you aren’t feeling very brave–and you don’t look at him at all. You can feel his heartbeat quicken as he processes your words and their meaning, but you can’t bring yourself to look up.

“I’m sorry we fought,” you begin softly. “I’m sorry I yelled at you and that I called you useless. You aren’t, you didn’t deserve that.” He stays quiet, but he squeezes you to him ever so slightly, signaling that he’s listening. “But Yoongi, I…” 

You can feel it already, the sting at the back of your eyes, the lump in your throat. You take a deep breath in an attempt to push them away. And it works. Sort of. But you continue anyway.

“When I woke up that day and you weren’t there, I was really angry. I mean, who does that? Kisses someone and just fucking leaves? God, I was so mad at you, but mostly I was mad at myself.”

“What?” You can hear the shock in his voice, and from the way he shifts, he’s looking down at you now. “Why?”

You shrug and try to bury yourself in his side, pulling the blanket up further. “I’ve already been abandoned once. I don’t think I can go through that again. I mean, Jesus, Yoon. I barely felt like I was a person. And then here you come, with your powers and your pretty eyes, and you make me feel like Dawoon was the one that lost out, like I’m…” You screw your eyes closed. You can feel the stinging growing, “Like I’m worthy of being loved. And then we kissed and then you were just gone.” It comes out small, almost imperceptibly soft. You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve felt this vulnerable. A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek and landing on Yoongi’s chest.

It’s quiet for what feels like ages. Neither of you move. Your heart, which moments ago was full and content, is somewhere in your stomach. You resist the urge to get up and hide in the bathroom. But then you’re being tugged closer, until you’re practically laying on top of him. His wings shift, and you can feel them slide across your back. The feathers tickle a bit until they settle. You can feel how quickly his heart is beating, and when he takes a stuttering breath, you can feel that, too.

“You are,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “Of course you’re worthy of being loved. Of course you are.” He sighs, and for a moment, he nuzzles into your hair. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I never meant to hurt you, I hadn’t even considered…”

“I know you had good intentions. I’m just extra sensitive to it, I think.”

“No.” You can feel him shake his head. “No, you’re right. I should have left you a note. Or I just shouldn’t have left at all. I’ll do better.”

Like all good things, your time at the cabin comes far too soon. You’re only able to spend a few days there. You don’t have that many paid days off at work, and neither you nor Yoongi were sure just how long his powers would last. Everything you needed in the cabin, he had to somehow get. There wasn’t anything to do, really, so any type of entertainment you wanted, Yoongi pulled out of thin air. A new book, a board game, even things like snacks, he provided without complaint, despite the fact that each thing put his abilities on even more of a timer.

So, after only two days, you convince Yoongi you’re ready to go home. You aren’t–you dread the black SUV and the anxiety that Dawoon will appear at the bar again–but you put on a brave face anyway. It’s better than the fear of being stranded in your uncle’s cabin. 

Begrudgingly, you return to work. It really sucks that Dawoon has made you hate coming here. You really used to like your job. You’ve always loved the vibe and aesthetics of the bar. It’s old, almost an antique, with high tin ceilings and a dark, heavy bar backed by an aged mirror and stained glass. The clientele is an interesting mix of college-aged young adults–mostly seniors and advanced degree students, you’d guess–and people in their mid-thirties looking for a cool place to hang out that isn’t too rowdy. 

It’s towards the end of a long shift–you’d come in early to cover a late-lunch shift for one of the other bartenders–and the bar is packed. It’s dark in the bar–there’s just enough light that you can see what you’re doing and make sure that things are safe. Amy, the other bartender working, bumps gently into you in a moment when everything is quiet. You’re making a margarita and a whiskey neat for a couple of regulars at a table in the corner when she slides up beside you and leans against the speed well. 

Briefly, she turns her back to the bar and turns her head so she can’t be seen in the mirror. “There’s a guy down at the end of the bar that keeps looking at you.”

Your blood runs cold, and your head swivels to see the end of the bar she’s indicating. But immediately, you’re overtaken with another emotion, one that warms you from the inside and makes your skin grow hot. There, perched on one of the polished wooden barstools near where the bar meets the wall, is Yoongi. He raises a hand, waving ever so slightly.

Amy hums and presses close after you hand the two drinks you’d made to the server to deliver to the table. “This is new,” she notes, and you can tell she’s clocked you, can tell she’s seen the grin on your lips before you’re able to school it into something more customer service-approved. But something strikes you.

She can see Yoongi. 

Casually, you make your way to the other end of the bar, knowing full well that Amy is watching your every move like a hawk that has spotted a mouse. You pause and take a couple orders along the way, pouring a couple shots for some people and sliding an Old Fashioned over to one of the masters students who frequents the bar. When you finally get to Yoongi, he shoots you a shy smile. Out of habit, you place a cocktail napkin in front of him before you lean against the bar, your arms folded over the dark wood.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, barely loud enough for him to hear you. Suddenly, you’re struck with a thought. “Is Dawoon coming here?”

“No.” His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “No, I just wanted to hang out.”

Oh.

“I close tonight,” you tell him with a pout. He returns it, jutting bottom lip and wide, dark eyes making him look like a sad kitten. You gesture to the bar. “Do you want anything?”

“I don’t want to trouble you.” You flash him a look that says ‘seriously?’ and he relents. “I don’t know what to order.”

You think for a second and step away to the speed well. You pour him a Jack and Coke. It’s classic, not too heavy on the alcohol, but you think he’ll like the sweetness of the soda. He watches you make it, something akin to awe in his eyes, and when you place the glass onto the cocktail napkin in front of him with a bit of a silly flourish, he claps lightly.

“I have to get back to work,” you say, and you’re genuinely sad about it. You would happily stand here and impress him with the little bit of flair bartending that you know. But unfortunately, you can see Amy at the other side of the bar making six Bloody Mary’s at once.

“I’ll be here.”

And you believe him.

It doesn’t take long to help Amy dig out. You check the time. Only a few minutes to last call. She bumps you again and nods slyly to Yoongi at the end of the bar. You can see him from where you stand at the speed well. He’s apparently brought a book, and he’s sitting there reading, his head resting against his hand.

“That’s new.” She repeats herself from earlier.

The thing about Amy is that she’s not really your friend. You wouldn’t ever ask her to hang out outside of work, and you can tell she very much feels the same. But she’s a work friend, the kind that knows enough about your personal life to vent to when you’re on a slow shift, and you know about her boyfriend and their two-year-old. You trust each other with minor oversharing every once in a while, and she knows enough about the Dawoon situation to know that this was a new–and important–development.

“New enough,” you confirm softly, and for a moment, you think she’s going to drop the subject as she gets distracted by a table of three asking to be cashed out for the night.

She returns, though, when she’s done. “He’s cute.” She says it like she’s shocked.

“He is.”

Yoongi is far more than cute, but you don’t correct her.

“You like him?” 

And suddenly, the speed well is far more interesting. You grab a rag and start to clean around it, wiping down the soda gun and sopping up where the liquid had oozed out of the nozzle during a particularly busy moment. Of course you like him. But you’re concerned about where the questioning is going. And truthfully, you’re not sure how to answer much more about your relationship. Amy laughs but thankfully drops the subject. Instead, she checks her watch and announces last call.

The next half-hour goes by in a blur of serving final drinks and cashing out tabs. You almost forget Amy’s questioning in the chaos. By the time the lights are up and the last patrons are filtering out of the door, you’re in the back, chatting with the kitchen staff and putting glassware into the dishwasher trays. Amy brings a bus tub of dishes and drinkware back, and when she grins at you, you know she never actually dropped the subject. She was just biding her time.

“He’s still out there,” she reports as if it’s scandalous.

You nod. “He probably wants to walk me home.”

“That’s sweet of him.” She offers you a genuine smile, and you forgive her for all her needling. “You do like him, then?”

“Obviously.” It’s exasperated, and you’re very much reconsidering forgiving her.

“Good. You deserve someone that’s sweet.” And just like that, she’s gone, flipping the rinsed bus tub over so it can dry and stepping through the swinging door into the bar. 

It only takes you a few minutes to finish putting the trays into the dishwasher and start the load. You join Amy behind the bar and start to wipe down the well when she bumps into you and nods to where Yoongi still sits at the end of the bar.

“Poor thing seems a little gone,” she says quietly, nudging you out of the way and silently encouraging you to go check on Yoongi.

You grab a rag and make your way over. He’s not facing you, but he’s the only one in the bar, and you can tell that he’s feeling what little alcohol you’d given him. He’s humming quietly and leaning back against the edge of the wooden bar. He’s playing with his own fingers, but his focus is on the big window and the street. You slip through the hatch in the bar and stand beside him.

“I’m watching.” He means to whisper it, but it’s very much not a whisper. 

You loop an arm around his back and he leans into you ever so slightly. “What for?”

“Dawoon.” You stiffen. But then he continues. “I can’t feel him anymore. I don’t know if it’s because…” He trails off, but you can assume how the sentence was going to end. 

Because his powers are waning.

“I won’t let him in, though,” he concludes, sharp eyes never leaving the window.

You squeeze his shoulder. “I just have to finish cleaning up the bar and then we can go.”

“Nah,” Amy’s voice cuts across the bar. “You kids get outta here. I just have to finish wiping down the bottles and lock up.”

For a moment, you want to argue. It’s not fair to make her clean your well. But then Yoongi wobbles a little on the barstool trying to crane his neck to look outside and you decide to accept her generosity. “I’ll cover you the next time,” you tell her. 

She waves you off. “Go have fun. Be young.”

You roll your eyes–Amy is barely two years older than you–but you’re already shrugging into your coat. Yoongi’s coat–or, your coat, you suppose, since you haven’t had time to buy him one yet–is hanging on a hook nearby, and you hold it up for him to slip into. You make eye contact with Amy, just to make sure that she’s sure it’s okay for you to leave. She nods and shoots you a warm smile.

“I’ll lock the front for you,” you tell her.

She waves, and her tone is finite when she bids you goodnight.

Outside, you slip your keys back in your coat pocket. Yoongi stands off to the side, his eyes on the street. It’s snowing, and small white flakes are starting to gather in his hair already. When you walk, he falls into step beside you silently and stumbles, though you aren’t sure if it’s from a slippery part of the sidewalk or from the alcohol. You loop an arm around his regardless, and you begin to walk arm-in-arm.

The quiet of four in the morning is peaceful. Snow falls around you, the flakes growing from small and dainty to fat clumps as you make your way home. There’s almost no one else out at this time. Just a few people rushing to their early morning jobs, a few people rushing home. You don’t envy the early birds. Waking up at three in the morning is a lot different from going to bed at six. 

Most of the houses along your route home are dark. They’re small, like your own apartment, with almost no space in the front between the brick of the building and the sidewalk. A few, though, have a small front patio. You know that in the summer, they’re usually filled with plants or heavy outdoor furniture. Now, though, they’re filled with snow. You pass one that has been cleared out fairly well, and beside the steps leading up to the front door stands a medium-sized snowman.

You turn down the next street, and you both slip a little in the snow. You gasp, but Yoongi giggles softly, and he has a surprising amount of coordination to keep you both upright. You lean into him gently as you get your balance again and calm your heart, and your arm slips from where it’s tucked around his own to holding him around the waist.

“Question,” he says when you start walking again. You hum in response. “Why are humans obsessed with snowmen?”

The question catches you off-guard. “What?”

“You humans love these frozen persons. Why?”

You shrugged. “Honestly?” He nods. “No idea. I read somewhere once that snow was the cheapest art supplies back in the day and if given the chance, people will make art.”

“But why the vegetables?’

“You mean the carrot noses?” Again, he nods. “Practical, I think. Carrots are cheap.”

“And you dress them.”

“Well sure, they can’t be naked.” Yoongi chuckles. Carefully, his arm snakes around your shoulders, and he pulls you closer. You hum. He’s warm.

You’re excited to snuggle up under a blanket. Your hands are numb, and you know that the pink that’s tingeing Yoongi’s cheeks is reflected on your own face. It’s weird, hearing the wet slopping of both of your steps. You’re still not used to him walking–you’re more accustomed to him floating everywhere. But his powers have been unpredictable since that night in the cabin, and it’s easier–and safer–for him to conserve his energy. Even escalating things with Dawoon is on pause. He says he still has enough for the smaller things, but nothing more.

Something catches your eye when you’re almost to your front door. You pause and turn, untangling yourself from Yoongi in the process. Something’s off about the street, and it takes you a second to figure out what it is.

The black SUV is gone. 

For a moment, you stand there, stunned into silence. The SUV is gone. What does that mean? Has Dawoon given up? Was it even Dawoon to begin with? Your mind swims with questions you don’t have answers for. A warm presence pressing closer to you draws you out of your thoughts, and you look to the side to see Yoongi’s focus on where the SUV had been parked. He’s quiet as he stands there shoulder to shoulder with you.

“I… I want him to burn,” he says softly. “For everything he’s done to you. I wish I could’ve done more.” His head falls, and he shrugs. “I guess that’s not very angel-like of me.”

“Maybe not, but…” 

Suddenly, you’re feeling overwhelmed. You’re unable to finish your sentence, your mind is blank. All of your nerves feel like they’re on fire, but it’s not… it’s not bad. It’s strange. You haven’t felt like this in a very long time. You pull Yoongi closer, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Once again, you have the strongest urge to curl up inside him, to make a home beneath his skin. Anything to be as close to him as possible. And when his arms wrap tightly around you, you can only hope that he understands what you mean.

Thank you for being there for me.

You make me feel like a person.

You’ve helped me feel normal again.

I love you. 

The sharp crash of a glass hitting tile jolts you out of your focus. The tv show you were watching is forgotten as you jump to your feet and rush into the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” You call out to him, worried. He’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, leaning against the counter. Shards of glass are scattered at his feet.

He sucks a breath in through his teeth, clearly struggling. “Watch your step, kid.” His grip on the countertop is like iron, his knuckles white with effort. There’s a definite grimace on his face, like he’s in pain.

You sweep up the glass quickly, using a wet paper towel to get the tiny bits. Yoongi barely moves, but you can hear his labored breathing as you dump the glass in the trash. “Did you step on a piece? Are you hurt?”

Yoongi shakes his head and takes another harsh breath. “My back feels like it’s on fire, what’s-”

“Oh my god!”

Your shock causes him to freeze. How you hadn’t noticed it before now, you aren’t sure. But the back of his white t-shirt is slowly soaking through with blood, like someone stabbed him. You rush to grab something, anything to help staunch the bleeding. He’s sitting at the table when you return, his chest against the back of the chair so you can look without obstacles. 

You help him take his shirt off. It’s difficult–at this point, it’s sticking to him from all the blood. You throw it in the sink to deal with later and wet a towel to try to clean his back off before you bandage it. As soon as the cloth touches his skin, Yoongi hisses in pain and you’re taken back to weeks ago when he’d shown up on your doorstep after the demon attack. This time’s different, though. This time, his blood is red.

“Just a little more,” you tell him softly, cleaning his back as best you can.

Now that you can see what’s wrong, you struggle to comprehend it. There, just below his shoulder blades, are  two jagged holes in his flesh. Thankfully, they’re already healing on their own, but it’s slow. Slower than it had been during the demon attack. You get the sense that the wounds had been much deeper, that if you’d actually looked at them a few minutes ago, you may have been able to see bone, but at least now, things are stitching themselves back together a bit. There’s a divot, though, in each wound, and it suddenly strikes you what’s wrong.

“Your wings,” you breathe, placing a square of gauze over one of the wounds. It barely covers the rough maw, but you rip off a piece of medical tape to secure it anyway.

Yoongi sucks a breath through his teeth, and for a moment, he seems to strain with something. His back goes tense, and he lets out a soft grunt. But then he deflates, a deep breath leaving him dejectedly, and he groans.

“I’m sorry.” You finish taping the second piece of gauze.

He shrugs half-heartedly. “Knew it would happen eventually.” Carefully, he spins so he’s sitting the correct way in the chair. 

“Still.” You gingerly brush his hair back off his forehead, the long locks flowing through your fingers like water. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

For a moment, you stand there silently playing with his hair. It’s soft, and his shampoo smells like peaches, and you fall into a trance of running your fingers through it. But then he shivers, and you’re reminded that he isn’t wearing a shirt. He stands, stealing a kiss on his way up, and gently pats your ass as he turns to leave. You press the medical tape firmly onto his skin as he passes you before going to the sink to see if you can salvage his bloody shirt. It’s still wet–most of the blood hasn’t dried yet–so you fill the sink with ice cold water and leave it to soak.

You wander back into the living room just as he’s leaving your bedroom. He’s put on a fresh white shirt and one of your old cardigans. He must be cold. You bump the thermostat up a couple degrees before plopping into the corner of the couch. Gingerly, Yoongi sits, too, easing back against the plushness of the sofa. Once he’s comfortable, he opens an arm and you scoot over to him. He pulls you in when you’re close enough so that you’re leaning against him, your back to his chest with his arms draped around you.

It’s quiet for a bit, the only sounds coming from the television as you both focus on the show you’d been watching. But then he shifts and lets out a hiss, and you’re worried.

“Does it still hurt?” you ask, a little stupidly. Of course it still hurts. His wings are gone. But you aren’t quite sure how else to phrase what your mind wants you to ask, so you go with the dumb question.

He shrugs, arms tightening around you. “It’s just tender. The archangels were nice enough to rip them off while I still have some strength left. At least it’ll heal before I’m out of juice.”

You hum. You hadn’t realized that his powers were running so low. Truthfully, you feel bad. This is your fault. He would still have his powers–he’d still have his wings–if-

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi asks quietly, nuzzling into your hair. “You’ve got that intense look you get.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, okay.” He chuckles, and you turn your head, your lips sneakily catching his cheek. He lets out a surprised noise and snuggles in.

Logically, you know it’s ridiculous to feel this way. You know that Yoongi’s feelings for you are a good thing. He loves you. How could that be bad? And yet, all the same, you feel guilty. He’s been forced to change so much, to abandon so much of himself. It doesn’t seem fair.

“I’m sorry about your wings,” you tell him. 

“It’s honestly not that big of a deal, kid.”

“It is, though!” You turn your body so that you can look him in the eye. Your hand comes up to cup his jaw. “It’s bad enough that they kicked you out. But then you have to lose part of yourself, too? It’s kind of bullshit.”

He smiles. It starts small, almost demure, but then it grows to big and gummy. His dark eyes sparkle, and he gives you a look that says ‘silly human.’ His hand comes up to cover yours on his cheek. “I wouldn’t change anything about it,” he says softly. “I’d give it all up a hundred times if it meant I got to spend even fifteen minutes with you.”

Your insides do an awkward little flip-flop, and suddenly, it’s like a thousand little butterflies have taken flight inside of you. God, he’s…

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t help more with Dawoon.” Yoongi sighs, and he squeezes your hand. “Didn’t really get to ruin him, did we?”

No, you hadn’t. It had been the whole reason you’d sought him out in the first place. Personal and professional ruin. Just like Dawoon had done to you. You’d been so mad when you’d found Yoongi under the el that day, so full of rage and hatred. And then when Dawoon had ambushed you at the bar, you’d been terrified and angry all over again. But what about now?

“I still haven’t paid you.” You shrug. “So we can call it even, I guess.”

He hums, and you can tell that he isn’t satisfied. His dark eyes swim with something unintelligible, and you’re struck–not for the first time, certainly not the last–by how beautiful he is. Even with a slight frown on his pouty lips, he’s angelic, no matter what the archangels think. You kiss his cheek softly before snuggling back into his chest, your focus shifting to the television. 

Your hand slips under his cardigan to rest against his hip, your fingers toying mindlessly with the hem of his t-shirt. It’s peaceful. He smells nice, like the peach of his shampoo and something spicy you can’t identify–he no longer smells like the fires he used to spend time around. 

Almost no time has passed when Yoongi fidgets slightly, his arm tensing and untensing around you. “Is your back bothering you?” you ask, sitting up a bit so that less of your weight is on him. For a moment, he looks uncomfortable, but then he shakes his head. You can practically see the gears turning in his mind as he thinks. “What’s wrong?”

“We could go somewhere,” he says quietly, dark eyes cast downwards, away from you. “Away from Dawoon. So you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

You’d be lying if you said you’d never considered it. Packing up your things and going somewhere Dawoon would never be able to find you had, at one point, been a dream of yours. You’d been so scared and so angry for so long that it seemed like the best option. Remove yourself from the equation. Start over. Find happiness in a city far away from all of your problems and heartache. 

But leaving seems a lot like giving up. And you like your life here. You like your apartment, even though it’s a little small. You like working at the bar. Amy is a good person, and the guys that work in the bar’s kitchen might not be your friends, but they’d give you the shirt off their backs if you needed. You like the city, like the atmosphere. You went to college here, spent your entire young adult life here. And sure, some of your worst memories and moments happened here, but you aren’t willing to give up on all that just because of stupid fucking Song Dawoon.

“I don’t want to leave.” Gently, you cup his cheek and guide him to look at you. “Fuck Song Dawoon. I’m tired of letting him ruin my life.” Yoongi’s eyes widen, eyebrows disappearing somewhere into his hairline. “I’m happy. You make me happy. You’ve done more for me in three and a half months than almost anyone has ever done for me. I love my life. I love you. And if Dawoon wants to take that from me, he’s going to have to try really fucking hard.”

You feel Yoongi inhale sharply, watch as the blush creeps up his neck to his plush cheeks. And really? You’d kind of been talking out your ass. But now that you've said it, all of it is true. 

You’d been here once before, sure. But Dawoon showed you who he really was. You’d given Yoongi opportunities to walk away, to get mean right back at you, but he never had. He’d always come back to you with care and gentleness. Dawoon could burn in hell for all you care, you’re done giving him even a passing thought. He didn’t matter. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered to you now was the man sitting beside you and the strange little life you’d started to build together. A life built on respect and love and kindness.

His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, and he places the softest of kisses against the side of your head. “Hell yeah.” He says it softly, mumbles it into your hair. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

You might not know what the future holds, but you’re certain that with Yoongi at your side, things will be okay.

Fallen Masterlist

If you’ve stumbled across this fic and you enjoyed it, I’d love to hear your thoughts! I love hearing from y'all and when you send your thoughts and opinions in the comments or in a message, it makes me happy!

#min yoongi #yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga #suga x reader #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst #fallen angel au #fallen angel yoongi #bts angst #bts fluff #bts suga angst #bts suga fluff #bts yoongi angst #bts yoongi fluff

[hongjoongscafe]

3+1=?

Chapter: 02 {Serieslist}

|In the 3+1= daycare|

Pairing: widower!yoongixwidower!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, single parent AU.

Summary: life has been cruel to them. Heartbroken and sad when they stumbled towards each other. Will they be able to heal their heart?

Warnings: mention of death, anxiety, smoking, hinting of smut but there is non.

Word count: 2.2k+

Masterpost

*DO NOT REPOST, PLZ*

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

You groaned as the alarm clock blared near your ear. You needed much more sleep than this. Therapy always made you tired and not to forget the twins who were nice but still made you tired enough to pray for a good night’s sleep.

You groaned again as you sat up, your back cracking on the way. Sighing, you got out of the covers and hung your legs down. The soft carpet felt nice under your feet. “I feel so old,” you whined.

The apartment was quiet, indicating that your babies were still asleep. The twins needed to be dropped off at the daycare. It was Saturday but you had some extra work to be taken care of.

You scratched your head as you walked towards their room. Opening the door, you could hear the soft snores of Geon-Wu. Mi-Cha, on the other side, was sitting on her bed with a Moana blanket wrapped around her.

“Good morning, momma,” her groggy voice was cute.

“Hey, princess. I thought you were asleep,” you picked her up when she raised her arms.

“I just woke up,” she yawned.

“Wanna wake up your brother?”

“GEON-WU!” That was all needed to wake him up.

Geon-Wu whined and rubbed his eyes, “you evil,” he whispered.

You quickly got them in the bathroom where you all brushed and then ushered Geon-Wu out so you could get Mi-Cha ready. Then you dressed Geon-Wu.

Rushing towards the kitchen, you prepared breakfast for the kids while they packed their bags for the daycare. The twins didn't go to daycare often since Jungkook worked from home. And would usually take care of them, happily.

He was a singer. Multitalented. He wrote, composed, produced, and did everything on his own at the studio he built in his home so that he could save money. The videography was done by another one of your friends, Namjoon.

Today he was not available. It was the filming of his new single track. Having kids there would be vexation. Not that they were crazy but could be a handful sometimes.

“Now, be good and let me get ready, oky? Eat your breakfast slowly,” you instructed and head straight to the bathroom.

Every day felt like a trial. It's hard to have twins and grow them on your own, you understood a year ago. It felt like a century. You stood under the warm shower, soaking yourself in the memories of your late husband. He was needed. He was a must. You are in love with him. Everything felt chaotic without him.

You missed how he loved you. The way his hands would glide across your body. His scent. His embrace. His comforting words. His giggles. His love for the kids. Everything…

“Mommy!?” a tired sigh left your lips. It has been a year since you got a chance for a peaceful shower or any time to get ready.

“Coming!”

Quickly washing up, you stepped out of the shower and looked at the time on your phone, you smiled. There was some time for a little make-up.

Dressing up, you went outside to see what was happening. “What are you kids up to?”

“Mommy, Geon-Wu spilt maple syrup on himself.”

There goes the time for make-up.

…

“Remember kids, no craziness. It ain't your home where you can be crazy monkeys, okay?” The kids were sitting in the back seat, listening to you carefully and nodding along. “Good. I don't want any complaints.”

Helping the twins out of the car, you opened the door of the daycare. The nice cold air hit your face. You went inside but froze.

There was the man from yesterday, looking at you with a confused frown. His eyes moved from you to your kids who also recognized the phantom-like man.

“Mommy, the ghost,” Mi-Cha whispered.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly waited for someone to come out and take your kids.

“Dropping off your kids?” his thick voice startled you.

Your head snapped in his way, eyes wide open. “Huh? Y-yeah.” you mentally face-palmed.

“Alright,” he got behind the counter and asked for the important information.

“Y-you are an employee here?” you asked.

“Asking the owner if he is an employee?” he grumbled.

Your eyes widened and gawked at the grumpy man. He looked like anything but the owner of a daycare. His hard demeanour was not exactly sitting well with the kids.

The man sighed, understanding your face, “I'm Yoongi. And don't worry about the kids. I see you have visited here before. There are two entries. They are safe.”

“Ah… Yeah.” he was right. You heard about this place three months ago from one of the twins’ classmate’s mother. This place opened five months ago and had a great reputation. They took care of the kids the best. They taught them many things and were disciplined.

You hugged and kissed the head of the twins, “no complaints, okay?”

“Oky.” They smiled and followed the phantom man hesitantly.

…

“I swear he looked so good anti-children yesterday!” you ranted and whined.

“You are thinking too much. See you are already getting wrinkles,” Jin, your co-worker, pointed out, “stay away from me, momma. Ain't nobody wants those.”

“Jin, they are wrinkled, not some air-borne disease that you might catch,” you sighed.

“Whatever. I still don't want my pretty face to get influenced,” he looked at himself in the tiny mirror he always carried. “But in all honesty, don't worry about it. My sister’s daughter goes there sometimes, remember?”

You hummed remembering the time he told you about that. “I'm a mother, Jin. All I am left with is my twins. If something happens to them… There is no reason for me to be alive.”

Jin patted your back, “we will get you free sooner, okay? So that you can go back to your kids.”

“Thanks.”

…

“When I first saw you, I thought that ‘she is out of my league’. But here we are, under the sheets, all warm and cozy,” Dae-Jung said while caressing your bare back.

“Hmm, yeah? You should be worshipping me more, then,” you bit his earlobe and got a satisfactory hum.

“I'll worship you like you deserve every day if you let me, angel,” he kissed your jaw.

“Who is stopping you?” you slid over his hips. “I'm right here, worship me as you say,” you whispered over his lips and captured them in a heated kiss.

The moans filled the room. Dad-Jung wanted to show you how you deserve all the love: mentally and physically, both.

“I'll love you till my last breath…”

Your hands were trembling, your forehead had a shining layer of sweat. Your eyes were spilling tears furiously.

The memories were devastating. They were once sweet but are now a bitter reminder that that won't ever happen again. It sucked the last sanity from you leaving you in this tiny cubicle of the office bathroom.

They were unexpected. It scared you. The twins caught you like this many times before and always questioned it. They were growing up seeing their mother breaking into pieces and their father not coming back.

It was a wrong influence. You needed to be better for them. But it's easier said than done.

Finally, when your body relaxed after a few, you left the washroom.

…

“Mommy! You are early!” Mi-Cha and Geon-Wu rushed towards you and hugged your crouched figure. “Let's go home!”

“Wait for a little bit, little ones.” you stood up and greeted the teacher there who was not the phan-- Yoongi guy.

After doing the formalities, you left.

The car drive was filled with kids screaming ‘baby shark’. You swear you would beat the hell out of the person who even thought about making this stupid irritating– was it a poem? Song? Oh, well, whatever it was, it sucked your brains out. But you had to keep it cool because kids love it. So anything for them.

“Mommy, that ghost man left early,” Geon-Wu said.

“I was so happy when he did,” Mi-Cha giggled.

“Ah, really? That's good, I guess,” internally you were jumping and screaming thanks for whatever reason he left for.

…

It was dark outside. Yoongi was sitting in the park. His heart felt heavy. There was a lot in mind. He felt like his last hope broke. The images, voices, and demons were lurking in and around him. He wanted an escape. An escape that led him to a peaceful life where he could leave his worries and demons behind and just hang in there.

Smoke wasn't his thing. But sometimes when the shit was too much to handle, he didn't mind getting high. He captured the cigarette between his teeth and covered his hand around it to light it. He puffed the smoke in the air and noticed all the patterns that it made in the dark.

The only comfort in his life was all those children he meant to take care of. But his cold persona always pushed them away. He didn't blame them. They weren't his own children… They were someone else's. With that in his mind, he let it slide and watched the kids from afar.

He wasn't that creepy guy who fantasized about kids, no, definitely not. He just… Liked children as a parent would do… A good parent.

“Hey, man. You sitting up here in the park by yourself like this, what happened?” Yoongie looked at his friend, Taehyung, who was looking at him with wide eyes and a mouth filled with chips.

“Nothing, just a lot of things,” Yoongie sighed.

Taehyung nodded, understanding, “don't throw yourself out like that, there is much more to life and you are still young… Things will fall back in place in no time,” he pulled his vaping pen out and vaped.

“Is it worth it, though? I feel like I am wasting everyone’s time and mine too,” he looked up at the sky. He couldn't see a single star, just the darkness like him.

“Man, it is worth it. I'm not saying that you will get a replacement but someone new who can understand you the deepest and hold onto you tightly,” Taehyung said.

“Anyway, how was your shoot?” Yoongie changed the subject.

“Ah, the best so far! The guy, Jungkook, damn! He is so fucking talented. It was so fun to work with him. I had to act like his brother from another mother and boy it felt real,” he praised. “I think you would like his company. He is a jolly man.”

“I don't know, Tae.”

“What!?” the younger one whined. “It's not like you are going on a date with a girl. We are planning on meeting for dinner or something, maybe you could join us too, it would be fun!”

Yoongie sighed, “I'll think about it. For now, let's go back. I have other jobs to handle and the daycare too. It's getting late.”

“Simply say that you want to drown yourself in the past in your bed,” Yoongie glared at him. “You took it seriously, man. I am sorry.”

…

“Pretty please,” Jungkook whined on the call.

“No, J. I don't want to. I have two monkeys to look after,” you said as you cleaned the kitchen.

“It's not like we are going out for long, you know? You haven't met new people in a while. You should come too. Taehyung is a funny man. I'm sure you will feel better,” Jungkook was pouting on the other side. “And it's not like it’s the date. We are just going to dinner with a new friend. He said he might bring another company along. I wanna bring you too. And kids can join us.”

You paused and thought about it. He was right, you haven't met any new people in a while. Dad-Jung loved to socialize so you also met many new people through him. Now it feels weird. But you need to go out and meet new people, make new friends.

“I'll sleep on it,” you sighed.

“Oh, you better wake up with this plan soaked up in your bones. Tell me what you think, okay? Then I will talk to him and fix the date for dinner. I'll get going, tell the kids that I love them and good night,” he yawned.

“Of course,” you looked around and sighed again.

Maybe this could help distract you for a while.

“Mommy?” Geon-Wu's sleepy voice shrugged you out of your thoughts. “Dada still not here?”

His simple question squeezed the life out of you. You didn't know how to break it up to them that their father won't ever come back. It's hard to see the twins like this, longing for their father's embrace. Nobody can ever replace that, no matter what.

“We should go to sleep, love,” you said and helped him get in bed. “Tomorrow is Sunday, we will be going to the big park, okay?”

He looked at you with shiny eyes, “really? You are the best momma ever!”

You chuckled and kissed his forehead. On the other bed, Mi-Cha was already sound asleep. You kissed her forehead and were about to go into your room when Geon-Wu said, “momma, don't ever leave us as Dada did.”

The tears brimmed your waterline. “I never will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

.....

Sanaa's note:

Hi, everyone. How are you all? I got some time on hand so I penned this chapter. I hope you like this 😊💓 I always appreciate your feedback!

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

*original picture is not mine, I just edited them*

Have a nice day/night💓

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts yoongi #bts yoongi fic #bts yoongi smut #bts yoongi fluff #bts yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst #suga smut #bts suga #suga x reader #bts min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #bts jin #bts taehyung #3+1=?

[bbtsficrecs]

BTS FIC RECS PART 4.1

Part 4.1 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡

There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |

⊹ Merry Kinkmas - part 02 Enemies to lovers au au | s | @bebejungkook ‣ You find out who your secret Santa was but his gift was a little too personal.

⊹ In Your Arms Tonight College au | s, f | @angelguk ‣ “I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”

⊹ Baecation Richboy!jk au | s, f | @1kook ‣ “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.

⊹ Act Of Falling Fuckboy!jk au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ What was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. Now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.

⊹ Candles & Flames Royal AU | s, f, a | @taegularities ‣  He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

⊹ Distractions Practice couple au | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⊹ Naughty Boy Step siblings au | s | @scribblemetae ‣ Reader is older step sister that knows he has a crush on her/yandere tendencies & she teases him until one day he gives in. 

⊹ When It Feels Right (read part 1 first) Divorce au | a, f | @7deadlysinsfics ‣ Although Jungkook is struggling with the decision he made months ago, he still thinks it was the best thing he could’ve done for your safety. But he isn’t doing well, and his friends are worried about him and how he’s choosing to deal with his feelings. Meanwhile, you’re now living with your brother, his wife, and their ten-month-old daughter, who has helped bring some light into your life. Just as you decide to tell Jungkook the truth about your pregnancy, he appears at your brother’s house with a truth of his own.

⊹ When She Loved Me Terminally Ill au | s, f, a | @jungkookstatts ‣ How does one live when life is bound to end? 

⊹ your step brother fucking you in front of your parents Step siblings au | s | @aris-ink

⊹ Don't Blame Me (on-going) Single Dad au | s, f, a | @thvhoe ‣ Jungkook is known for his good looks and is often described by your friends as "daddy material." Funny enough, he actually was a daddy. The daddy of the baby girl you babysit every Saturday. Working as a nanny for the world's grumpiest single dad should have been easy, but you can't keep your eyes off him. He's handsome, a little arrogant, with broad shoulders and strong tattooed arms. And when he decides he can't keep his hands off of you. Who are you to resist?

⊹ Rolling Stone Idol au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ He was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. Now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay. The problem is neither of you know what it means to express yourselves without reverting to sex as a form to end discussion. It causes all hell to break loose when Jungkook realized if he wants you to stay for him [with him] then he needs to show it to you too. Can Jungkook and Y/n get past their own growing doubts on if what they feel is real and work out a way to be together—especially considering Y/n wants nothing to do with the limelight?

⊹ The Ability To Fantom - part 02 (on-going) Brother’s best friend au | a, f | @hanniwrites ‣ You are shocked when your friends reveal their theory: Jungkook, your brother’s annoying best friend, has a crush on you. A bad one.

⊹ Torn Apart Infidelity au | s, a | @bethschamberoftales ‣ That one time when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you.

⊹ My Love Is Here (series) Unrequited love to requited | s, f, a | @solemnreads ‣ You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened.

⊹ I'll Stop Tomorrow Friends with benefits AU | s, a | @dreamyjoons ‣ You know it has to end.

⊹ Just A Taste Spring break AU | s, f | @cutechim ‣ “Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”

⊹ Flat Tire Established relationship AU | s, f | @ppersonna ‣ How do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?

⊹ One Mistake (on-going) Idol!Tae & Cheating AU | a | @vamours ‣ it’s been three years since you and Taehyung had started dating. recently, you’ve started to notice changes in taehyung’s behavior towards you. with your four years anniversary only a few weeks away, you’ve come to discover the truth.

⊹ Akrasia Strangers to? | s | @nitaescence ‣ Basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus.

⊹ Stepdad Taehyung Step!father au | s | @aris-ink ‣ "He was not touching himself right beside you. No, that was not possible"

⊹ Rock Bottom Idol Jimin AU | s, f, a | @jkbabiey ‣ When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?

⊹ What's Poppin Established relationship AU, | f, s | @joonberriess ‣ Yoongi being the type to buy you a chain cause if he’s pimped out, his girl gotta be too.

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Looks so refreshed Idol AU | s | @kimnjss ‣ Friends with benefits is hard, but when he’s an international superstar… It’s much harder. So while you love his friends to death, spending the night holed up in his hotel room just sounds a lot more fun than a dinner party.

⊹ Friends (3TAN) Brother's best friend AU | f, s, a | @kithtaehyung ‣ The week you get with Yoongi has a few surprises. and one of them presents itself in the form of a phone call.

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

⊹ Marry me, Yoongi Established relationship AU | f, s | @spideyjimin ‣ When Yoongi decides to get married in vegas after all the fan’s comments on the vlives.  

⊹ Amour Propre Established relationship AU | a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Crumbling Relationship with one Min Yoongi

⊹ Blind Spot Established relationship AU | f, a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Yoongi tries to win you back.

⊹Your Universe Rejection AU | f, a, s | @muniimyg ‣ Regretting rejecting oc, Min Yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

#my recs #jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #yoongi fanfic #jungkook angst #jimin angst #yoongi angst #taehyung angst #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jungkook fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic recs #bts recs #jungkook recs #jimin recs #taehyung recs #yoongi recs #jungkook drabble #taehyung drabble #yoongi drabble #jungkook imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine

[taintedjeon]

‘𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞…’ 𝐦𝐲𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬;

✞ pairing: alternative!yoongi x reader (afab) ✞ type: drabbles ✞ genre: filthy smut ✞ status: new&ongoing

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. yoongi is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.

➷.𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

➷.𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐠 𝐨𝐧 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!

➷.𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — coming soon!!

… + 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.

© 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.

#yoongi smut #yoongi series #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #bts oneshot #yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi one shot #bts x you #bts x reader #divider cr. @cafekitsune #the one where he series