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#yoongi fanfic
jinpanman · a day ago
Maybe I Love You, Maybe You Love Me
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summary: It’s something you’ve known since you were five and it’s only grown stronger as the decades passed.
pairing: yoongi x reader
wc: 2.9k
genre: pg, fluff, f2l
extra info/warnings: minimal cursing, spreading the husband!yoongi agenda once more lmao
a/n: SURPRISE @fluffyydumplings​!!! you’re such a cutie! you know who else is a cutie????? MIN YOONGI!!!!!!!1 also i saw your a/n in your fic... i would never hurt you. i mean i definitely tried at first. i know you like pain LOL but i couldn’t do that to you for CHRISTMAS so there is No Pain here <3 i promise hehe but i’m sorry it’s so short 😭😭😭 i really hope you enjoy this regardless 🥺💞 with greatest love, your pretty snowflake santa 
thank yous to my trashy possums for the support! the biggest thank you to @reliablemitten​ and @calixwrites​ for helping make this so much better with your input! i would probably be crying alone in a ditch rn if not for all of you <<33333
selected prompts from @btswritingcafe​: “Love in the form of handholding is ideal…so allow me to never let go.” + “You said we would be happy…why did I believe you?”
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“Min Yoongi! I’m going to marry you one day! Just watch! We’re gonna get married and you can’t stop me!”
You groan loudly into your hands, grimacing at the TV screen where an adolescent version of you continues to spout absolute nonsense to a boy with a tragic bowl cut. The now much older boy—who thankfully no longer sports a terrible haircut—sits beside you, very badly stifling a laugh.
Yoongi’s eyes are crinkled despite his otherwise cool expression and you just know he’s got something to say. Your gaze wanders upwards to his freshly dyed hair, courtesy of none other than you. He’d begged you just a few days ago to “please dye my hair back to black before both our moms kill me” to which your reply was “wow I’d love to see that.” But because you are weak to all things Yoongi, you spent the rest of that day together in his bathroom. It’s a strangely intimate thing, touching someone’s hair. It doesn’t help knowing that Yoongi’s always been so particular about who gets to touch his hair. Just as your thoughts begin to veer off tangent about what else happened that night—
“You’re staring,” he whispers and you jerk in your seat when you notice how close he’s gotten to you in the short time you spaced out.
“No, you’re staring. Get back on your side of the couch!” you hiss and push him back to his previous spot.
He goes easily, but not without showing off the biggest and brattiest pout. Do not fixate on his lips, you tell yourself, but your attention latches on anyway. It’s hard not to when those very lips were pressed against yours that same night his blonde hair turned black. You retaliate by flashing your tongue before turning to your parents.
“Do we really have to keep watching this?”
Your mother, who cuddles with your father on the adjacent couch, laughs. She laughs at your humiliation and you have never felt more betrayed. Are mothers not supposed to protect their offspring? You respond to this treachery by jutting out your legs like a petulant child and flailing about. Your hand smacks Yoongi right in the nose, effectively wiping off the smugness on his face. It’s not what you were going for, but it is a victory nonetheless.
Good, you think. Serves him right!
Mrs. Min, the cheeky woman with a tongue as sharp as her eyes, raises a hand to her mouth and lets out the daintiest giggle you have ever heard come out of her. It leaves you absolutely dumbfounded and you can only gape mid tackle when she responds to you.
“Why would you ask such a ridiculous question? Of course we do, honey! It’s practically tradition at this point.”
Tradition unfortunately means reminiscing about all the most embarrassing things you and Yoongi have ever said or done in the past twenty plus years of life. Oh, the joy of having parents attached to the hip with your best friend’s parents. There are absolutely no secrets left to hide from the man, but you suppose it’s not such a bad thing. He’s literally seen and heard it all and still, he is here.
It’s too bad he is a completely useless comrade.
“Yoongi!” He meets your desperate gaze and raises his brows in a silent question. You motion wildly in the direction of both of your parents. “Stop them!”
He shrugs. Yoongi shrugs because he is a menace. A very stupidly cute menace but a menace nonetheless.
“It’s only fair they laugh at you today. I already got my fair share yesterday so I’m not stopping them.”
An embarrassing whine escapes your lips at his obvious lack of assistance. You hate that he’s right. Yesterday you had the pleasure of watching the parents gush and coo over ten-year-old Yoongi’s heartbroken letter to you—with tear stains and all—when you got your first boyfriend. He’d asked you then to never have another boyfriend because it made him “very sad”. So sad that he never wanted to eat ice cream again. You, of course, didn’t listen to him and his then very tearful, very desperate request. What ten-year-old girl would say no to the popular and funny “it boy” at school? Not you!
A screech from the TV disrupts your train of thought.
The much younger you screeches out a very loud, very obnoxious “HOLD MY HAND!” You don’t have to look at the screen to know who it’s directed at. You bury your face into the arm of the sofa with a resigned groan. You hear both then-Yoongi and now-Yoongi giggle and your heart does this weird flopping around in your chest that you do your best to ignore. 
Your hand twitches in your lap. Oh to have the gutsiness that kid-you had. You absolutely would like to hold Yoongi’s hand right now. You want to curl your fingers around his and never let go. This feeling is very not friendzone-appropriate. A mutual friendzoning, if you will. An unfortunate mutual friendzone. A zone that you very much want to get out of, and if the kiss you shared a few nights ago is anything to go by, you hope to be moving onto greener pastures some time very soon.
You should have known this would be the most prevalent pastime for your and Yoongi’s parents during your week-long holiday at the Min’s cabin. Yoongi had been the one to suggest it and your parents ate it up in an instant. You all worked hard to make it happen. The Mins are a second family, a second home. This is the first winter holiday you’re spending together in the past three years, but you should have known the consequences of your actions.
In your heart of hearts, you know that you truly don’t mind. Being the only children of your families, you and Yoongi have both long stopped trying to dim the delight in your parents’ eyes when they retell stories about the two of you a hundred times over, always giggling as if it were the first time.
Knowing you don’t really mind doesn’t mean you’ll ever stop complaining, though.
“Dad! You said we would be happy and have a fun time this week! Why, oh, why did I believe you?” He grunts in response and you know that’s as good a reply as you’re gonna get. “Okay. Well. While I am so honored that you are all getting an absolute kick out of my embarrassment, I have decided that I am going to go and shovel the snow. Outside. Where there is snow that needs to be shoveled. So. Enjoy yourselves.”
You quickly dismiss yourself before your dad has the chance to convince you to stay. He’s good at that. Sweet talking you into doing things you’d otherwise detest doing or things you know you’ll regret. Like that one time he persuaded you it was a good idea to swap out ketchup with sriracha when you were making your mom a sandwich. The only good thing to come out of your suffering that day was knowing that your dad suffered just as much as you did.
You’re about ten steps onto the patio when you hear the front door open and shut behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. There’s only one person in the cabin that would follow you out in the snow. Would follow you anywhere. You continue on your way over the stepping stones, shovel in hand, and maybe it’s stupid but you regulate your breathing to fall in step with the crunch of snow behind you.
“I can’t believe you would leave me all by myself in that den of lions,” comes a voice behind you.
“Someone had to be the sacrificial lamb. Figured you wouldn’t mind. After all, you were the one who said it would be a great idea to celebrate the holidays together this year.”
“But I —”
You cut him off before he can argue, wanting to see how much you can wind him up. “I knew I shouldn’t have given in. I am considerably less than happy right now. Unhappy! Miserable! Glum! Regretful! Woeful, even—!”
Yoongi sniffs loudly behind you.
The next thing you know, he’s stepping in front of you, reaching for the snow shovel in your hand and you’re falling, falling, falling until your back crashes into the snow. It’s cold. The chill immediately passes through the layers of warmth you’ve put on, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when your attention is wholly captured by the view above you.
Yoongi has fallen with you and landed directly on top of you. Small puffs of air fall from his parted lips and fall over your face. Would this count as an indirect kiss? Would he let you nudge his head down closer so your lips can meet once more? That first time was simply not enough.
Your eyes trace over Yoongi’s face and you take in the way his front bangs fall down his face, so tragically alluring and so long. It was a mistake not to give him a haircut along with the dye job. He’s much too dangerous with this longer hairstyle. The rich brown shines under the near blinding white surrounding you and your fingers twitch with a need to push his hair back so you can see his face better. His cheeks and button nose are tinged a light pink and you are half tempted to take him home so he won’t have to endure the cold anymore. You don’t, though, because he has you caught in the most scandalous position ever. It’s too much to compute.
“I- you- You need to- You’re heavy. Get off before you break my back.”
You watch his curled lips inch ever so slowly closer. He’s leaning in dangerously close and now you really are frozen. You both know you don’t want him to move. If you really wanted to, you could easily overpower him. You don’t though, and that knowledge has his shit-eating grin growing wider. The ever devious Cheshire cat.
“You talk too much,” he says, earning him an affronted glare.
“I do not!”
“Baby if you don’t shut up, I’ll make you shut up.”
You scoff and level him with a cocked brow. “I’d like to see you try.”
He mirrors you, raising his own brow. Smirks. Then with absolutely no hesitation—
“Marry me.”
Well, holy shit.
“Min Yoongi.” Your voice comes out in a tremble. You clear your throat and start again. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up right now.”
“You’re what’s good for me.”
All at once he drops his weight onto you and smothers you whole. You’re so blindsighted that all you can muster is a muted grunt. Oh sweet, good heavens above. You are not a strong soldier. You are weak. You are so weak.
“Yes, wife?”
You whine. You squeak. You whimper. 
You thank your lucky stars that both of you are wearing coats. Coats thick enough that you know for certain he won’t be able to feel how quickly your heart races. Who knows, though. If your own mother can betray you, why wouldn’t the very fabrics that clothe your body betray you too?
“I can’t feel my legs. It’s too cold.”
He stiffens on top of you.
“Oh. Crap. I forgot about- Shoot. Okay. Let me- let me get off.”
“I’m certainly not stopping you.”
Yoongi quickly pushes himself off and pulls you up with him—right into his strong embrace. He’s never been much of a hugger. Self proclaimed hug-hater even, so it always makes your heart flutter at the way he always hugs you so tightly. The way he hugs only you this way. The way he’s always hugged you this way.
His breath fans across your forehead as he asks, “Can you stand okay or do you still need a moment?”
“I-I still need a moment, yeah.”
He gives you exactly five seconds to recuperate.
“I know we’ve been so busy with this trip that we haven’t been able to talk about that moment in my bathroom. The kiss.”
Your legs have once again turned to mush and if it weren’t for his arms around you, you’d surely have fallen again. You nod weakly. It’s all you can do with the way his very being is taking over all your senses. He pauses again, warms up your ears between his fingers.
“I love you, you know? I know you love me too.” You nod again, blushing at how easily he’s able to say it. “And I know we both know we’ve been kinda terrible at… this.” A laugh. Another nod in understanding.
“Yeah. I- you’re right. We’ve sucked. A lot.”
“I love you and I wanna take you out on dates. Proper dates. Then after the third date or so, I’m going to ask you to be with me. Like, be my girlfriend. And…we’ll date for maybe a year or two before I propose. You’ll say yes, of course. And um, well we can figure the rest of it along the way.”
He speaks so casually and so matter-of-factly. It’s driving you a little crazy. More than you’re already feeling.
“You sound very sure of yourself there. Who says I’m gonna say yes?” Your voice is shaking. Your entire body is shaking and warm all over.
“I’m confident in our love.”
He shrugs like the nonchalant fiend that he is. Oh, good lord. You burrow your face into his scarf and groan quietly when you hear his soft, breathless giggle. It tickles your ear.
“Marry me,” he repeats. “Maybe not today. Maybe not even next year. But I would like to marry you one day.”
“What is this?” you grumble. “Where is this even coming from?”
“Sorry. I have terrible timing. I just- I saw you looking so pretty in the snow and I just… I didn’t want to wait anymore? I’ve already waited for so long and I’m getting too old and selfish. If I could have my way I would’ve married you like five years ago.”
“Terrible timing is right! You’re saying we could’ve been in wedded bliss for all this time?”
“I also just really wanna hold your hand without having to use the excuse that my hands are cold.”
“So hold my hand then!”
This earns you a hearty laugh. You remove his hands from where they’ve rested firmly on your hips and interlace your right hand with his left. You’ve held hands many, many times in the years you’ve known him. The thrill of being connected never dims, and now with the confirmation and security of his feelings for you, the tingle that runs up your arm buzzes even more.
There’s a calm sort of giddiness building up inside of you. Years of yearning, of anticipation, have led to this moment. It was inevitable, you think, for the two of you to fall in love. This lifetime of friendship has served as the perfect foundation to the longing and affection for one another. It feels right in an easy, comfortable way—a warm blanket of love covering the two of you even as the blanket of snow on the ground sparkles in the chilled air. It’s something you’ve known since you were five and it’s only grown stronger and more defined as the decades passed.
“Just so you know…” he mumbles, his eyes glued to where your hands are connected, “love in the form of handholding is ideal, so allow me to never let go.”
“Oh my god. When did you get this cheesy? Why are you only revealing this side of you now?”
He chuckles and gives your hands a squeeze. “In case you forgot, I’ve been hanging out a lot with the Great Wooing Master Seokjin these days. He’s recently taken me on as his apprentice so you can blame him.”
“I’m gonna kick his ass when we get back home.”
Your faux scowl transforms into a wide grin when he cackles at your statement. He pulls your hands up, kisses them. “Okay, well now that I’ve gotten my Christmas wish, what do you say we go back inside because I don’t plan on freezing to death before we can get to the wedding planning.”
Yoongi leads you back toward the cabin, and you follow him easily. Just as he would follow you anywhere, you would follow him to the ends of the earth. Would follow him to your doom. Including the doom that waits inside the very cabin.
"Our parents are not going to let us live this down if we go in holding hands.”
“Dude. They’re going to make fun of us the moment we step inside. They’re going to make fun of us even on their deathbeds."
"If it's with you, I don’t think I’d ever mind. Dude.”
You snort and push him away. Then you make a run for the house. He shouts. The crunching behind you grows louder and just as your hand brushes against the doorknob, a pair of arms attach themselves around your waist. You erupt into a pair of uncontrollable giggles as he pulls you in close.
He purrs your name into your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “I’m going to marry you one day. I’m going to marry you and you can’t stop me.”
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a/n 2.0: uuuhhhh so apparently i just….really like the idea of yoongi getting married???? Hahahahaha but…. can you blame me?????? He’s just… so, ssooooo HUSBAND. also the title is inspired by “Maybe” sung by Lee Haeri from Davichi for the Her Private Life kdrama aka The Best Rom Drama In Existence am i right or am i right @sunshinejunghoseokie​
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mintkims · a day ago
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FIRST DATE ― a min yoongi one-shot [bts masterlist]
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☆ pairings: min yoongi x reader ☆ genre: e2l, fluff, slight angst ☆ words: 2k words ☆ rating: general (G) ☆ prompt: "straighten your back you banana shaped fuck!" ☆ warnings: profanity, unedited ☆ mentions: thank you @gaeguuliii for the adorable request! i hope you enjoy ~
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© mintkims 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means without the author's permission is not permitted.
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Just when he thought today couldn't get any worse.
It all started with him accidentally spilling his black coffee all over your white jumper after lunch.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You hissed. "I can't believe you picked today out of all days to be a prick."
"I'm sorry." He mumbled almost immediately, shocking both you and himself in the process.
The two of you had known (and absolutely despised) each other for over five years now. Your rivalry had began sometime in middle school when he had newly joined your class. You were your teacher's favorite, the best at every subject or hobby you picked up: especially making music.
Mrs. Soojin, your music teacher had barely paid attention to any of the students, but her behavior drastically changed when it came to you because you were one of the only children who had been able to play advanced notes on her favorite instrument - the piano.
You had spent every hour of your free time memorizing piece after piece just to earn her approval and praise. So imagine your surprise when a pale new kid who joined mid-year had achieved everything you did - and more - in less than a day where it had taken you over a year.
You almost couldn't help the grimace that took over your features when you made eye contact with the kid; his large doe-like eyes narrowing when his gaze fell on you. His head slightly tipped to the side, soft pink lips turning upwards. You would have cooed at how he resembled a kitten if you weren't so pissed. The urge to slap the (what looked like) smug smirk off his face was astronomical.
"Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata?" Mrs. Soojin gasped, eyes wide in admiration. "When did you learn how to do that?"
"I memorized all keys of the piano before I learnt how to talk." He shrugged earning a scoff from you. "I could play all his pieces in my sleep."
"What is your name, my dear?" Your teacher asked. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the class."
His gaze snapped back to you as he slid off the bench. Instead of making his way to the front of the class and bowing the way new students would, he plopped down on his seat towards the back. Throwing an arm over the back of the seat with his legs spread obnoxiously, he drawled. "Min Yoongi. Genius. Those two words should be enough."
You could barely hear the chorused 'ooh's from your classmates over the disgusted string of curses that left your lips. Your teacher merely giggled affectionately before ruffling his hair and making her way to the front of the class to begin the lesson.
From that day on, Min Yoongi had become your biggest rival.
You would spend twice the amount of time practicing; swapping sleep for online piano lessons. Your goal was to outperform him no matter what it took. Unfortunately for you, years had passed since you initially made that promise for yourself, the day was yet to come.
Until then, you had no choice but to deal with his snark remarks and proud smirks.
Despite your obvious dislike for the brazen fool that was Min Yoongi, there were times that even you couldn't deny the talent oozing off of him when he played the piano. The way his fingers would glide over the keys was nothing short of hypnotizing; the beautiful melody soothing to your ears. It was almost as if the instrument was made for him.
"If you're going to compliment me," The brazen fool in question snickered, snapping you out of your trance. "Get in line."
"I was going to tell you to straighten your back, you banana shaped fuck." You scorned, shooting him the fakest smile you could muster before walking out of the class and completely ignoring the way the sweet ring of his laughter made something in your stomach stir.
"Are you sure you don't have a little crush on him?" Your mother giggled, spooning some more vegetables in your plate.
You had just finished explaining today's events at school to your parents. Dismissing your graphic language - you described your encounter with Yoongi, wild hand gestures and everything. You made sure you'd emphasized on how infuriating he was. Instead of agreements from the people who birthed you, the last conclusion you expected from any of them was that.
You blanched. "You think I like that buffoon?"
"Ooh." Your younger brother mocked. "Noona has a crush."
"Shut up Namjoon." You hissed, flinging a pea in his direction.
Your dad grumbled. "Stop playing with your food."
Gritting your teeth, you shoveled spoonfuls of food in your mouth, wanting to get dinner done as fast as possible so you could go and rant about Yoongi to your best friend in the privacy of your room.
You did not have a crush on Min Yoongi.
"You have the biggest crush on Min Yoongi."
You sighed. "Its been five years since you've been saying that Hyujin."
"And its been eight years since I've known you." She retorted, sticking her tongue out. "Admit the fact that you like him despite how he annoys the crap out of you. And he has nice hands."
You choked, nearly spilling the juice you were holding all over your brand new white jumper. "You pervert."
"Don't deny it." Hyujin said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I read your old diary entries. You love him."
She laughed loudly, playfully shoving you to the side while you flipped her the bird completely unaware of the stunned figure that stood in your way.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You hissed without thinking twice. "I can't believe you picked today out of all days to be a prick."
"I'm sorry." He mumbled in a heartbeat, making your eyes widen in surprise.
"It's... okay." You said, shuffling away from him, concerned and slightly creeped out. "... bye."
"Do you think he heard us?" Hyujin remarked quietly once the two of you entered the girl's bathrooms. "He looked... disturbed."
Although you were surprised he didn't retort with a smart comment of his, a pinch of worry clouded your heart at how he didn't sound like himself. Was he okay?
Playing the piano was therapy for Yoongi. He would often find himself getting lost in the melody, fingers moving at their own accord as the music soothed his soul. Unfortunately today, his mind had been so jumbled that even his first love couldn't comfort him. The words 'she likes me back' played repeatedly in his head, practically driving him to the edge of insanity.
Yoongi remembered the first time he had laid eyes on you. The way your hair framed your face, soft wisps brushing against the apples of your cheeks. Your lips were pulled into a smile while your fingers moved over the keys of the piano smoothly.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt an unusual flutter in his chest the moment you locked eyes with him.
The pout on your face, eyes flashing from disbelief to envy when Mrs. Soojin had complimented him was adorable. Yoongi couldn't help but repeatedly get on your nerves just to rile you up. Although a small part of him wished the relationship you both shared didn't borderline on negativity, the satisfaction of being able to get under your skin like nobody else made everything worth it.
He never did put a label on his feelings, but now that he thought about it, Yoongi had been in love with you for so long that knowing you returned his feelings felt new. A thousand different thoughts on whether he should act on his feelings or not buzzed through his mind.
And so that's what he did.
After a week of blatantly avoiding you; the next time he saw you - which was coincidentally after music class - he stopped you. He pushed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to disguise the slight tremble in his fingertips at the sight of your concerned expression. The speech he prepared along with the 30 minute practice he did in front of the bathroom mirror had flown right out of his head, leaving a stuttering mess of a brain behind.
"Hi." He nodded, watching your lips pull into an awkward smile.
"Hello Yoongi."
"So uh." He mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know how to say this but... There's this new café that's opened up down south street."
"Oh yeah." You smiled. "Club Coffee was it?"
"Yes!" He exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically before clearing his throat. "I mean yeah. That one."
"... okay?"
He blanked out for a second, brown eyes boring into yours. "Do you want to go... check it out with me after class?"
His eyes nearly burst out of his head at your easy approval. In his defense, he expected at least a punch on the face if not a harsh rejection from you at the idea of going on a date with him. He gaped at the sight of your soft smile and wink before you turned on your heel and made your way to your next class.
Yoongi stood there for a couple of minutes, comprehending the last few minutes that had happened before laughing incredulously and skipping his way to his next class.
This date will be perfect. He'd make sure of it.
"I am so very sorry." He apologized loudly, taking off his coat and putting it over your head, the thunder nearly making him deaf. "I had no idea it was going to rain. The sky was literally clear five minutes ago!"
"Its okay!" You smiled, making him feel guilty. It was your first date together and he already managed to fuck this up.
"My apartment is down the street!" He informed, throwing his arm around your shoulder in a futile attempt to shield you from the rain. "We can stay there until the rain stops."
You nodded, and he took that as a queue to pull you with him across the road while trying to ignore the warmth rushing down his spine at the feeling of you pressed against his side.
By the time you walked into the apartment, you both were soaked through the bone and shivering as Yoongi rushed to his room and grabbed as many blankets and towels for you as he could.
"You're shaking." He noted, wrapping you in the biggest towel he owned and handing you a pair of his night clothes. "Here are some of my clothes, the bathroom is down the hall. You can take a warm shower while I whip something hot up for the both of us."
Yoongi watched you nod weakly before you trudged to the bathroom and closed the door. The entire time he spent cleaning up, he couldn't help but feel horrible at the way your day turned out. He wanted to spend today making you feel special but instead, he ruined both of your day.
"Yoongi?" Your soft voice called out to him. "Are you okay?"
"No." He huffed, clenching his fists. "I've been planning out date for weeks and yet I fucked it up even before it could happen. I feel so horrible for making you hate me all these years! And when I get a chance to redeem myself and maybe tell you about how I've liked you for years now - everything gets screwed up. God, I'm such an idiot -"
"Yoongi!" You exclaimed, eyes wide. "You didn't ruin anything."
"I did." He muttered dejectedly.
"No." You sighed softly, walking over to him and grasping his cold hands in your warm ones. Yoongi gasped softly at the gentle touch, looking at you in shock. "The day isn't over yet. What do you say we get some of that soup you made and watch a movie together?"
"Okay." He nodded, voice soft.
"Okay." You grinned, skipping to the living room and piling up the blankets together.
Yoongi watched you fondly, shuffling around in his clothes and could only think of one thing - how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
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note: so... if you haven't noticed... i might have gotten a little carried away...
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yoongificsrecs · 2 days ago
Historic au
Gwanghae Flow
Summary: The queen receives a forbidden visitor in the middle of the night.
Summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win
Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.
Summary: King Min Yoongi is an evil tyrant who bows and bends to no one. Except to his queen.
To Love an Empress
SUMMARY: Despite the acrimonious beginning to your relationship, Yoongi is drawn to you.
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chayenne-engene · 2 days ago
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yoongi's hand more devilish than devil himself
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borathae · a month ago
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“Yoongi was a warrior in the Queen’s army, brave and loyal to his duties even if that meant protecting Her daughter, who can’t stand his presence in the slightest and who more often than not uses him as her way of taking out her anger. As one fateful night forces them to survive together, they soon need to learn how to live with each other.”
Pairing: Warrior!Yoongi x Princess!Reader 
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding, violence & fighting, wounds, deep hatred in the beginning, she is mean in the beginning but character development happens dw, slurs, cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, loss of virginity, they are both virgins fyi, kissing, missionary in a cave, Yoongi likes kissing her boobies and neck, Yoongi’s hands, also blonde Daechwita!Yoongi because he deserves his own warning
Wordcount: 21.7k
a/n: I always start one of these stories, thinking that I can’t love it more than the other ones, and I always end up proving myself wrong. Writing this story gave me so much JOY omfg please I would literally give my life for warrior!Yoongi. Also I know, I know :( it is once again so freaking long, but please :( give it a chance, I promise you that you will get lots of plot and Yoongi for your patience :(
~ Go to Index ~
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Yoongi heard the whispers and felt the eyes on him. They all knew where he was going and what was going to happen.
The princess had a fight with her husband.
The news spread like a wildfire this morning, reaching Yoongi by the evening. He had just returned from the Queen’s hunt when one of her servants told him to see her in her chambers immediately.
She was furious so they said before wishing him strength.
Yoongi felt nothing as he made his way to the princess’ chambers. He walked this walk a hundred times before. What was to come doesn’t faze him anymore. It was the whispers and stares, which never became easier to bear, no matter how often he climbed the stairs to her chambers.
Yoongi knocks twice. He doesn’t expect an answer and so he enters.
“You sent for me Your Highness”, he announces himself, falling to his knees in an instance. He places his sword before his knees, keeping his head lowered.
“Where were you?” she spits.
“I was out hunting with your mother.”
Yoongi stays quiet despite the ache on his cheek.
“You kept me waiting, how dare you?”
“Your Highness, the Queen, she needed my company.”
“Who do you think you are? How dare you talk back to me.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
She grabs a bundle of his hair and tugs his head back.
Yoongi doesn’t react at the feeling. He tries not to look into her eyes, but fails. She looks furious tonight. The fight with her husband must have angered her deeply.
Yoongi doesn’t like her husband. Not only was he a simple fool, but he angered her on top of that. And when she was angry she sent for Yoongi to bear the punishments her husband should bear in his stead.
“Look at you, you’re so ugly”, she spits, twisting his hair, “do people tell you that? Do they tell you that you’re ugly?” she asks, running her finger down the scar on his face.
Yoongi closes his eyes, shuddering in disgust as her finger runs over his eyelid.
“Yes Your Highness, they do.”
“Good”, she places her hand all over his face and pushes his head back roughly, “and I hope they never stop.”
Yoongi never got the answers of why she was hurting him instead of her useless husband.
Some servants say it was because of the prince’s powerful mother and that the Queen therefore forbade her daughter to hurt her husband.
Others say it was because the husband was an emotional fool, who cries the moment the princess raises her voice at him and that the princess grew annoyed by the constant wailing.
Yoongi believes that it was simply because he was at the wrong place and the wrong time.
It was two winters ago when the princess married the prince of the Sand Queendom. She disliked him from the beginning for the way he looked and behaved. He angered her one night and in a fit of rage she struck him. Yoongi made the mistake of helping him to his feet again and it was Yoongi, who received the next strike. Ever since that day she always calls for Yoongi when her husband angered her and he has to bear the kind of punishment a husband should take by himself.
“You know, I told him to stay home and yet he still wandered the mountains with his friends”, she spits as she connects her hand with his face, “why is he always defying me?”
“I don’t –“
 “Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”
Yoongi closes his mouth and accepts the next slap.
“He cried again today, he is such a pathetic man. Why did mother choose such a terrible husband for me?”
Yoongi allows her to shake his head roughly.
“Stop looking like that. Why are you so ugly?”
“Please forgive me, Your Highness. I’m tired.”
“Fuck”, she grasps his cheeks tightly, “you’re even uglier when you’re tired.”
She leans down and smells him.
“Disgusting, you stink.”
“Forgive me, I was on horseback the entire day.”
She pushes him, making him fall on his elbows.
“Leave, your scent insults me, it’s no fun tonight.”
“Yes Your Highness, please forgive me”, Yoongi says, grabbing his sword to leave her room on his knees.
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The Queen was on a hunt again. Yoongi rides beside her, scouting the area for dangers. The princess joined their hunting group today. She left her husband at home, but took her horrible friends with her. They were giggling the entire time. Yoongi felt his head ache at the sound of it.
“I heard that some of Morrok’s people were sighted in the north forests three moons ago”, the Queen tells Yoongi.
“Yes my Queen, my people took care of them”, Yoongi answers her.
“I never doubted that Sire, but it makes me wonder what they were doing so far up north.”
“Perhaps they were on their way further north, I heard of a man creating an army of men, who share his mindset. They call themselves the Ravens.”
“Yes, I heard that as well. It seems that these days more and more men become victims of madmen.”
“Yes my Queen, so it seems”, Yoongi agrees.
“Mother!” the princess rides up to her mother’s side, “mother we are bored, when can we kill something?”
“Patience and if you keep chattering like that you won’t catch anything today.”
“But mother, Luthia saw a deer back there. Please allow us to check it out.”
“Very well, but take Yoongi with you.”
The princess looks at him and scrunches her nose up in disgust. Yoongi feels the same. He doesn’t want to spend time with the princess.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes ___ you do.”
She clicks her tongue, “fine. Come Yoongi.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys and turns his horse.
The princess gallops off afterwards.
“Sire”, the Queen stops him.
“Yes my Queen?”
“Please keep her out of trouble.”
“Yes my Queen, I will”, he promises before galloping down the forest path.
He catches up with the princess and her friends soon enough. They were giggling again, but that stopped when they noticed Yoongi’s presence. He can feel every single one of their deathly glares on his face as he rides to the front to join the princess’ side.
“___ what is that fool doing here?” Luthia asks, eyeing Yoongi with disgust.
“My mother insists I take him”, you answer her and roll your eyes, “she still doesn’t believe that I can fend for myself.”
It makes Yoongi scoff quietly, just quietly enough that you wouldn’t hear it. 
“And she has to send him out of all your warriors?”
You look at Yoongi by your side, studying his face. He is frowning, scouting the area as he was told to do.
“I’m not happy about it either, but let’s pretend that he isn’t here. Tell us Luthia where did you see the deer?”
“I watched it run down this path.”
“That leads to the ruins of Bruinnen”, Yoongi murmurs.
“So? Do you want to tell us something?” Luthia spits.
“There are spirits in those lands, angry spirits.”
Luthia laughs and soon the rest of her friends, including you laugh as well.
“Those are legends, you simple fool, there are no spirits in the world”, Luthia says, riding up to Yoongi just to slap the back of his head.
Yoongi reacts, turning his head to glare at her.
“People disappear in those lands and you want to enter them like a reckless child?” he spits.
Luthia frowns.
“Now I understand your anger with him ___ he is way too noisy.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning to you.
“Your Highness believe me, you don’t want to enter the spirits’ lands.”
You laugh, “keep your mouth shut Yoongi. We are going.”
Yoongi twists the reins in anger. The princess is such a reckless child, one day she will get herself killed and maybe, just maybe, he will watch it happen.
The path is welcoming for now. High trees with barks of silver and red crowns of leaves. The sunlight enters the forest through little holes in the canopy, painting the paths and the surrounding scrubs ruby. The air smells fresh as well, warming your limbs.
“Tell me ___ isn’t he the fool, who helped your husband after you disciplined him?” another friend of the princess asks.
“Yes he is. He is the fool who thought it was his right to step in between”, you answer her with distaste.
The friend studies Yoongi’s face.
“He is just as ugly as you told me. Hey ugly”, she stubs his arm with the dull end of her arrow, “where did you get that scar from?”
Yoongi stays silent. In moments like these he wishes that he could live a different life. He enjoys being the Queen’s warrior as she was a kind woman, but truly when he has to be alone with the princess and her horrible friends he wishes that he could live a different life.
“He probably got it from helping another woman’s husband”, Luthia jokes, making them cackle.
“Or maybe he got it from fighting spirits”, the friend jokes.
Laughter bounces off the high trees, taunting Yoongi.
“No, but please be honest where did you get it from, ugly?” Luthia asks.
He knows that she doesn’t want to hear the truth. She wasn’t interested in him, she just wanted to poke fun at him.
“I can’t remember”, Yoongi murmurs.
“Ha! He says he can’t remember. Did you hear that? He probably hit himself with his own sword.”
Their laughter rings in his ears and forces a shaky exhale over his lips. He truly wishes to live a different life in such moments.
The laughter stops.
“Look Luthia the deer”, you exclaim, pointing at the poor animal in the far distance.
“This is mine”, Luthia whispers and draws her bow.
She hits the deer on its shoulder, making it run away.
“Stay! You are not allowed to run away from me!” Luthia screams, kicking her horse roughly and galloping off.
“Luthia! Slow down!”
You turn to Yoongi.
“Go after her and protect her.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys as always, galloping down the forest path.
He meets the horrible woman at the end of the path.
Yoongi shivers, slowing down his horse. They have reached the border to the spirits’ lands. The once ivory path is corrupted by the black soil creeping out of the dark forest. The air was tense and the light sparse. The smell of death lingered on every inch of ground and the once proud trees were wilted and black, sparse of leaves and life.
Yoongi reaches the horrible girl. She looks at him and his fingers around the handle of his sword.
“What’s that? The forest looks so ugly here” she asks him in disgust.
“The border to the spirits’ land”, Yoongi answers her.
She looks at him.
“I didn’t ask for jokes right now, crip”, she spits.
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger.
“I don’t make jokes, girl. Now let’s turn around and join the others.”
“No. The deer ran inside, I want my arrow back.”
“The arrow is gone, let’s leave.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I don’t work for you”, Yoongi growls and turns his horse, “let’s leave.”
He can watch the princess and the rest of her horrible friends ride down the windy path and he is in no mood to fight for five more people if the spirits decide to show themselves.
“I am still higher in rank than you. Now you will show me some respect.”
Yoongi felt the cold blade of her arrow’s head rest itself on his shoulder. He clenches his jaw. The princess watched it happening, telling her horse to go faster in reaction.
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out under his breath.
“Luthia, why are you holding an arrow against my warrior’s neck?”
“My arrow is inside this forest and this fool refuses to help me.”
Yoongi knows that she was lying, but doesn’t say anything. His chest fills with anger when the princess’ cold eyes land on his face.
“You are going to do as you are told and retreat Luthia’s arrow.”
“She can go herself, I’m not risking my life for an arrow.”
Shocked gasps cut through the air. The princess lowers her eyes in anger. Yoongi can watch how she raises her riding crop, closing his eyes in anticipation. The hit is harder than he had initially thought it would be, leaving a dark red imprint on his cheek.
“This was a warning, if you disobey me again I will strike you with my sword.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, staying on his horse.
“Go!” she yells at him, raising her riding crop a second time.
Yoongi catches it, almost breaking it between his fingers as anger makes his grasp iron.
He pushes it away, jumping off his horse afterwards.
“There we go, ugly”, Luthia spits.
Yoongi takes two steps and then he falters, staring into the darkness of the spirits’ lands. He knows the legends. Knows the stories of people losing their minds in those woods. Knows the stories of people getting lost on the windy paths. Knows the stories of the people dying in those forests, damned to a fate of being forgotten. Yoongi doesn’t frighten easily, but at this moment he is so scared that he can feel his knees begin to shake.
“Go on you’ve come so far already”, the princess encourages him with a dark smirk.
Then a sharp pain in his shoulder. One of her friends poked him with the tip of her sword.
“Don’t make us wait.”
He sends her a deathly glare over his shoulder, draws his sword and sets foot into the forest. His foot had to simply touch the soil and he felt his bones fill with iciness. The air made it hard to breathe and even his heart seemed to struggle with pumping his blood through his veins.
The laughter of the horrible girls rings in his ear like distorted whispers of death.
Yoongi tightens the grip around his sword, having to swallow deeply to get air into his lungs again.
“I-if there a-are spirits w-with me, k-kill the g-girls in m-my stead”, he stutters, “they would deserve it”, he adds under his breath.
“Hey ugly! Found it?”
“Or are you busy fighting spirits?”
Laughter, shrill and loud. The magic in those forests corrupts it.
Sweat, he could feel it run down his forehead. Air. If his lungs don’t work soon he will faint.
Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.
“Ugly where are you?”
“Don’t run away!”
Air. Air. Air.
“Fuck”, Yoongi stops, seeking support against one of the trees.
It burns. His hand burns.
He pulls back quickly, staring at the black goo on his fingers. It was smoking.
“What is that?” he exclaims, wiping it off quickly “get off of me.”
He raises his fingers, they are shaking uncontrollably. Blisters. They weren’t here before. The tree burned him.
Air. Air. Air.
Yoongi grunts, blinking quickly. His vision is blurry. Where is the path? Where is he?
Intruder. We have an intruder.
Whispers, hundreds of them. 
Intruder. Who’s that? Intruder. Death to him. Death. Death. Death. 
Hands, black fog, they are closing around his limbs and neck. They fight him, trying to drag him to his knees. 
"Stay away", he chokes out, cutting through the air around himself. 
He fights! He fights back! Death to him! Death to every human!
“Ah!” Yoongi yells.
An arrow had hit the tree right beside his head.
Yoongi turns.
The princess has her bow raised, wearing an amused smirk.
“Look you made the little cub frighten”, Luthia squeals and giggles.
Yoongi looks at the arrow. White body, red feathers. It is one of the princess’ arrows.
“Come back Yoongi and don’t forget to take my arrow with you!” she calls out and cackles.
Yoongi feels his blood boil. He rips the arrow out of the tree and runs back to the others.
Come back! Don’t run! No! No! No! Death to all humans!
The fog follows him.
Laughter. They are still laughing at him despite the danger.
Don’t run little tiger! Don’t run!
One more step. Yoongi jumps, feet landing on the ivory path. His knees give up on him in an instance, his body sinks in on itself.
“Stand up ugly.”
Yoongi feels the icy gust of wind on his skin. Whispers are in the air. The horses become restless. The laughter finally dies down.
“What was that?” Luthia asks, drawing her sword, “hey ugly what did you do?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer her for catching his breath is all he can think of. His lungs burn as if the fogs had poisoned them. Oh he is so scared that tears have formed in his eyes. He can’t cry, not right now, not in front of them. He can’t cry.
“Yoongi! Stand up you useless man!” the princess spits.
Yoongi lifts his head.
“We want to leave, it is so icy here.”
He grunts. His sword comes in handy for he couldn’t possibly stand up without its help.
“Give me my arrow.”
Yoongi lifts it to the princess' fingers. His hands are shaking, aching from the burns on his palms.
“Ew what is that black goo? No, throw it away. I don’t want it anymore.”
Anger fills his stomach. Yoongi breaks the arrow and throws it on the ground. She scoffs and laughs.
“Now get on your horse or we’ll just leave you here.”
They ride back to the Queen, laughing about how they scared Yoongi and how amusing he looked when he startled. Truly in such moments Yoongi wishes to live a different life.
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The bells were ringing. Yoongi never heard those bells before. He was not supposed to hear them. Nobody was. They were supposed to stay silent until time had taken everyone and nature reclaimed the castle.
And yet they did, shaking the entire castle awake.
“Breach! We have been breached!”
Yoongi is on his feet in an instance, grasping his sword and running out of his bedroom. He had no time to do his hair or put real clothes on. The castle was under attack, his duties were more important.
Screams echo through the hallways. Some originated in anger, some in pain, some were distorted in fear. Yoongi made no difference between them. The castle was never supposed to be filled with screams. People ran, barely even noticing when they bumped into him. Yoongi looked into their eyes and saw fear. He understood them. Most of them never learned how to fight for fighting seemed unnecessary in the safety of the castle.
“Keep running! Take the tunnels leading to the mountains!” he tells them.
“Master! Young master!” one of the Queen’s servants, his hands were covered in blood.
He stumbles, clasping Yoongi’s arms tightly.
“The Queen. She is in danger.”
“Where is she?”
“The ballroom, she locked herself up with some of her servants. They, they are trying to break through.”
“Keep running, don’t stop until you are in the tunnels”, Yoongi tells the young servant before he runs faster.
They are all running away. While he is chasing the danger.
The air smells of blood and burning flesh. The fight must be near. He can hear the shrill screeching of metal. Just round the corner. His soldiers are fighting bravely. Just like he thought, those are Morrok’s men.
“Fuck”, he presses out, leaving his soldiers. They will manage. He needs to make sure the Queen is safe.
Yoongi fights his way through the crowd. His hands were warm from the blood of other people covering them. He slices through all of them, leaving a trail of bodies behind.
Just down the hallway. Yoongi stops. Fire was illuminating the path. Shadows hid behind them, turning at the sound of Yoongi dragging his sword over the ground.
He tilts his head to the side, giving the intruders a menacing smile.
“What? Are we going to stand here all night?” he taunts.
They scream, storming up to him. Fools.
Yoongi changes his stance, lowering his eyes like a tiger watching its prey. He welcomes them all, punishing their foolery with precise cuts through their bodies.
They fall. Every single one of them falls under his punishing claws, they are just another addition to his endless path of corpses.
He listens. Silence. Thumping in the distance just past the fires.
“Fucking hell”, he presses out before running down the fiery hallway, “never like this element, way too hot for my taste”, he murmurs, shielding his mouth and nose with the help of his hand.
Thump. Thump . Thump.
It is rhythmic.
Just up those stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi slays five more people.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi can see the ballroom. Five men are trying to break through. Yoongi quickens his steps.
Thump. Thump.
Then a punishing crack and the tall door falls apart.
He runs and runs. The screams are unbearable in his ears.
“My Queen!”
Yoongi reaches the ballroom just in time to watch one of the men pierce the Queen’s intestines with a spear.
“No!” he roars.
“Kill him! It’s just one, kill him!” Morrok’s men scream, pointing their weapons at Yoongi.
He slays every single one of them, granting them deaths so painful even the fairies of death weeps for their souls. He spared one of them. The one carrying the spear. He spared him after cutting off both his legs. 
“Somebody help!” the man screams, fleeing from Yoongi.
He follows him over the floor, dragging his long sword behind himself and through the path of blood the man leaves behind.
“You are going to pay for what you did”, Yoongi growls angrily and blinded by rage he raises his sword to rip him apart like a tiger would its prey.
It is done. Yoongi stands in the man’s blood, hands shaking by his side for he was filled with rage.
Yoongi turns.
“My Queen”, he is by her side in an instance, kneeling by her head, “my Queen don’t move.”
“Yoongi it was him, he let them inside.”
“Who did my Queen? Who?”
The Queen’s eyes flutter. She reaches for Yoongi’s hand. He grasps it tightly, soiling it with his dripping tears.
“My daughter…protect her…from her….husband…promise –“
“My Queen? My Queen?!”
Yoongi shakes her hand then her body then he touches her neck. No pulse.
“No, my Queen”, he presses out and whimpers, “my Queen forgive me, please forgive me.”
He closes her eyes with shaking fingers, forcing his tears down.
“I will protect her, I promise you”, he whispers, cupping her cheek, “farewell my Queen.”
He stands up with struggle for his knees wanted to give up in grief. He lost her, the woman who loved him as if he was her own flesh and blood. The woman, whose arms were wide open for him when he thought that the world didn't want him anymore. The woman, who gave him a chance at a new life and who taught him how to fight. And the woman he swore to protect with his life. He was supposed to die, not her. She was never supposed to die.
Yoongi sobs, fighting his way to the princess’ chambers. He didn’t know if his face felt warm from his tears or the blood of his enemies. Perhaps it was both, running down his cheeks and soiling his nightdress.
It was just over the courtyard. Yoongi felt his heart shatter with every corpse he passed. Those were his soldiers and his friends lying next to the enemy. All dead. It seemed as if he was the only one left alive.
He increases his steps. Was he already too late? Will the princess be dead already?
“Young tiger! Finally I looked for you everywhere! My wife, they took her”, the princess’ husband screams, running up to Yoongi with a dagger in his hand.
Yoongi felt blinding rage surge through his body. He let them inside. Safe her from her husband. The Queen’s words are ringing in his ears.
“You need to come with me please, I only have this measly dagger and I-I never learned how to fight”, he calls out.
Yoongi begins running. The husband smiles.
“Exactly, follow me”, he says excitedly, “it is just down by – “ his voice cuts off in a gurgle of pain.
Yoongi grunts and feels his sword pierce through the back of the traitor. He steps closer, forcing the blade through his stomach until his hand is touching the burning skin.
The husband gawks at him, asking him for reasons with just a look.
“This is for killing the Queen, you traitorous bastard”, Yoongi spits, twisting the sword and making the husband cry out his death screech.
Yoongi steps back, watching the pitiful corpse drop to the ground. He grunts, blinks his tears away and runs again.
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He finds the princess on his journey to her chambers. They are dragging her away. She is screeching, fighting against their grasps.
“My princess!” Yoongi runs.
He is not going to break the promise he made to the Queen.
“Yoongi?” she whips around, “help me, you useless man!”
Yoongi falters in his steps.
But then. There are six of them and he feels his arm begin to tire out.
“Help me! Please help me!”
Yoongi tilts his head to the side and watches her with lifeless eyes.
She never treated him well. Perhaps he could just turn around.
“Shut up you whore”, one of the abductors yells and slaps her cheek.
“No”, she screeches.
Yoongi watches as one of the men forces a piece of cloth into her mouth. It makes her cry miserably. His blood boils in anger.
They are going to hurt her. They are going to hurt her in ways he wishes not even on his deepest enemies.
Yoongi tightens his grip around his sword and runs.
He is not going to let them hurt her. He swore to protect her. The evil spirits in his head tested him and he passed. He is not going to run away, he is going to fight.
Yoongi fights bravely, slaughtering four of them.
“Get him Kentov.”
The tall man raises his hammer. It shatters Yoongi’s sword in an instance, forcing him to stumble back. 
“How?” he manages to get out and then fingers wrap themselves around his throat so tightly he sees darkness within seconds.
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Yoongi opens his eyes and gasps. He sits up, grasping for his throat.
“You’re awake, finally.”
He looks to his side then down at his wrists. They are tied up. Just as his ankles are. He looks back at you.
“My princess”, he croaks.
“Yes you failed, we got captured”, you spit.
Yoongi looks around. You and him were on a carriage, locked in a cage.
“What happened?” he asks.
You scoff and look away, “you passed out after failing to protect me, now we are locked in this cage on our way to heavens knows where.”
Yoongi shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, letting his head fall against the wooden stakes. He grunts, scrunching his nose up. His shoulder aches unbearably.
“I watched you hesitate.”
He turns, just his head. There is anger on your features.
“You hesitated to save me.”
Yoongi scoffs.
“Once we are back home I will tell mother of your disobedience.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“Answer me!”
“Your mother is dead, Your Highness.”
“Killed because your husband betrayed you. There is no home to go back to.”
Yoongi watches your eyes fill with tears and he falters. He never saw you cry before.
“No, don’t say that. You’re lying!”
“I fear that I am not.”
“No”, you choke out and weep miserably.
Yoongi turns away again and closes his eyes. He won’t comfort you, instead he allows his own tears to run down his cheeks, keeping silent.
They feed you rotten bread that night. You don’t eat anything, neither does Yoongi.
They keep you close to the group by the horses.
“This is your fault”, you spit.
“My fault?” Yoongi growls.
“If you fought harder we wouldn’t be in this position right now. Hungry and freezing.”
“Ha”, Yoongi scoffs, grinding his teeth.
“You are just as useless as my husband. May the Morguls rip his soul apart.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“Where is my husband? Shouldn’t he be with those traitors?”
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger, “I killed him.”
“I cut open his stomach until I could watch life die out in his eyes.”
“How dare you? Do you want to be killed?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes. You reach out and strike his face.
“Why are you hitting me?” he asks coldly, “I protected you.”
“You didn’t do shit. You hesitated, I saw you stop. You wanted them to take me”, you hit him a second time.
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“If only my hands weren’t tied. I would choke the life out of you. This is all your fault, all of it.”
“My fault? I fought hard!”
“And yet my mother is dead. All of my friends are dead. Our people are dead. You failed to protect them. This all happened because of you!”
“With all due respect Your Highness, your words mean nothing to me and yes, perhaps I truly stopped for I remembered all the times you watched me suffer with amusement in your eyes”, Yoongi spits.
He watches your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps they were tears of sadness, perhaps they were tears of anger.
“Out of all the people and I am captured with you. Fuck, I should have just killed myself in my chambers.”
Yoongi scoffs and looks away.
“Perhaps you should have”, he murmurs.
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You had walked for seven days until finally taking a break. It was hard, your feet ached so terribly and your limbs felt as heavy as stone. The land changed. The forest became darker and the air tenser. They tied you to one of the crippled trees. It was wet around you, cold and the stench of rotting flesh was lingering in the soil.
“Where do you think they are taking us?” you ask Yoongi, barely keeping your eyes open.
“To Morrok”, he answers you dryly.
“Morrok? But I thought he lived south.”
“They are moving camp so it seems.”
“Talks of a strong leader in the north. They call him Rafkan.”
“Rafkan”, you repeat the name, “I heard whispers of that name.”
“Yes, Your Highness. He is one of the Nïuri. It is said that the Black Forest of the Night Queendom was once a forest of golden oak trees until Rafkan claimed it for himself six hundred years ago. His hatred poisoned the forest until it was the mirror of his dark heart.”
“But the Nïuri are peaceful people, they use their immortality to build forests, to nourish nature and to, to protect the history of this world. Why would one of them be filled with so much evil that his heart is able to poison an entire forest?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes, “Spite, anger, perhaps he grew bored of being used as a woman’s punching bag.”
The silence, which follows is heavy on your heart. You lower your eyes.
“And you believe that Morrok wants to join Rafkan?” you ask quietly.
“Yes, I believe he does”, Yoongi answers you dryly, resting his head back against the tree he was currently leaning against.
You look at your captors. They are laughing and singing by a fire, feasting on the deer they had killed this morning. They looked like friends having fun. How can they be filled with such hatred? They killed everyone. Your friends, your mother, your siblings. They left you alone, murdered innocent people and now they are celebrating as if they were nothing but innocent friends.
“I hate them so much”, you press out.
“Me too”, he answers you dryly, fighting sleep.
They look at you then, talking quietly. You shiver under their glares. It felt as if you were prey watched by an unbeatable enemy.
“They are looking at us”, you whisper.
Yoongi tenses up and opens his eyes.
One of the men stands up.
Yoongi sits up straight, turning to you.
 “Put this on Your Highness”, he stresses.
“What? No! No, don't put dirt on my face”, you gasp, looking between Yoongi and his dirt covered fingers.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, truly”, he says.
“No, stay away, oh god the smell”, you say and gag, “no, where are you putting your hand? Stay away.”
“This is going to save you”, he says shakily, covering the insides of your thighs with the rotting soil as well.
“I will have your hands cut off”, you spit, wiggling away but to no avail.
“Hello hello”, the man announces himself.
Yoongi sits back, knee bouncing up and down nervously and eyes glued to the man’s face. He was pinning you down with his dark eyes, licking over his chapped lips hungrily.
“You know five months without a woman’s touch can make a man’s cock hurt unbearably”, the man begins, reaching down to twist your hair.
“I wonder how the cunt of a princess feels like. Is it tighter than that of a common witch?”
You squeak, heart beginning to race. You can see it. See it swell in his pants. Now you understand.
“Please don’t”, you beg.
The man smiles, “oh it’s always better when they are fighting me. Get up.”
He tugs on your hair, trying to get you to stand up.
“No p-please don’t do this.”
He chuckles, tilting your head up. Suddenly he stops, scrunching his nose up as he sniffles loudly.
“What is that smell?” he murmurs.
He twists your hair, leans closer and smells you.
“Urgh disgusting”, he exclaims, shooting away. His hand lands across your face harshly, “you dirty whore”, he growls, spitting on your face.
He turns, hurrying back to the others with curses leaving his throat.
“Oh god”, you choke out, reaching for your face. You feel for it, touch it despite the rotting soil on your skin, “you.”
You turn to Yoongi. He is looking at you, holding his breath.
“You saved me”, you whisper.
He lowers his eyes.
Yoongi stays quiet, ripping off a piece of his dress. He gets on his knees, turning to you.
“Please let me clean you, Your Highness.”
You nod your head, shivering when his fingers come to rest on the nape of your neck. He touches your cheek tentatively and begins cleaning you as best as possible.
“How did you know that this would work?”
Yoongi looks into your eyes for only a moment, faltering in an instance for looking at you was always paired with consequences.
“It’s what me and my sister used to do when the bad men came to our village”, he confesses quietly.
“Our mother taught us how to protect ourselves against people wanting to use our bodies. She always told us to be disgusting, to shit or pee or vomit all over ourselves because the people wanting us harm don’t like dirty people.”
He cleans the last piece off, discarding the fabric somewhere on the ground. He lowers his eyes.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, for touching your thighs in such manners and for covering you in dirt. I shall take my punishment accordingly.”
You touch his chin, making him tense up. You tilt his head up, making him look into your eyes.
“Thank you”, you whisper and smile.
Yoongi is puzzled, furrowing his brows and blinking rapidly.
“Your Highness…”
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Yoongi had been missing for too long. They took him, dragging him away from you until you couldn’t see them anymore. It has been too long. The shadows have wandered too much. They shouldn’t be gone for so long. He should be back by now.
He helped you again earlier that night. They tried to come for you again so Yoongi helped you, he tried to cover your face in some animal’s feces. He got caught and got dragged away in your stead.
Two men stayed with you. They watched you the entire time, talking with each other about what they would do to you if only the boss would allow them. It made you press yourself against your cage in fear. You had never heard men talk in such ways before, you didn’t even know that they were capable of such thoughts in the first place. Until now you had only really heard a few of your fellow women talk in such manners and yet it seems that men were just as cruel in their thoughts.
They brought Yoongi to you once the sun began to set. He clearly struggled with his steps, stumbling every so often. One of the men had an iron grip around his long hair, keeping him from escaping.
“You’re back?” one of your two guards says.
“He didn’t scream, tzt, he is no fun”, the man whose hand is in Yoongi’s hair says, “walk.”
He pushes Yoongi, making him stumble to the cage. He unlocks it and throws Yoongi inside.
Yoongi collides with the ground in a painful groan, rolling on his back and keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily.
“Sleep well fucker”, the man spits, locking the cage.
He walks off with the two other men, whistling a cheerful melody.
Now you are truly alone with Yoongi.
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Yoongi groans and sits up slowly.
“Fuck”, he presses out.
His eyes meet yours. He clenches his jaw.
“Did they hurt you?” you ask him.
“Tzt”, he looks away.
“Where did they hurt you?”
“Just leave me alone”, he spits, crawling into one corner of the cage to lie down again.
“I can help.”
“Keep it, your hands do more harm than good.”
That hits deep. You lower your eyes in shame.
“At least let me look at it.”
“You swore to protect me, didn’t you? I can’t have you die on me.”
Yoongi stays silent.
“Yoongi this is an order.”
He turns his back to you.
You gasp. They ripped his clothes open at the back.
“Are those burn marks?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer you.
“They burned you, didn’t they?”
He sighs an annoyance.
“I can help you”, you say, crawling to him as best as your tied limbs allow you to. You place your hands on his shoulder.
He flinches away.
“Don’t touch me”, he growls.
“Where else did they burn you?”
He turns around. Anger is distorting his face
“I said to leave me alone!” he spits.
“What good can cruel hands like yours do? You inflicted more pain on me than any other person and now you want to use them for good?” he lets his dark eyes run over your face, “I should have allowed them to drag you away.”
“Don’t say that”, you gasp, feeling your heart shatter in your chest, “please let me help”, you beg, cupping his ruined face.
He flinches away.
“This all happened because of you”, he growls angrily, “if you had been nicer to your husband he wouldn’t have felt the need to betray us.”
You close your mouth, falling against the cage with a painful laugh.
He clicks his tongue and scoffs, turning his back to you again.
“Is that what you think of me?” you whisper, waiting for an answer that will never come.
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You have been walking the entire day. The sun is sweltering, punishing even. Your throat is so dry that the taste of blood has been lingering on your tongue for way too long. You are so close to the end of your strengths. But you weren’t worried about yourself, you were worried about Yoongi.
His skin was covered in sweat and yet he shivered. It was pale, grey even. He stumbled more than he walked. The redness on his back has grown, spanning all over his shoulder blades. It is almost reaching his neck too, spreading through his veins like a curse.  
“Yoongi”, you whisper.
He stays quiet, barely keeping his eyes open.
“Yoongi how are you feeling?”
He glances at you and scoffs.
“He needs a break!” you call out.
The men snicker, but don’t turn around.
“Please at least give him some water!”
“Quiet whore”, one of them whips around and slaps you across the face so hard you feel your lip break. You can’t barely feel the pain which follows, you are too worried for Yoongi.
“Please just one sip.”
“He wants one sip? Fine he can have a sip”, the man spits, grabbing Yoongi’s chin harshly to force water down his throat.
Yoongi gags and chokes.
“Stop that! Stop it!”
Their laughter taunts you.
The man finally lets go of Yoongi, making him cough and fall to his knees.
“I hope you enjoyed your water, Sire.”
Yoongi grunts, twisting the dried grass between his fingers.
“Let’s get going!”
The group begins moving again. Yoongi stays on the ground.
“Yoongi stand up”, you order him shakily, “I’m ordering you to stand up”, you stress, looking behind you at the two very heavily armed men coming closer and closer.
“Hey you! Keep walking!” they call out, quickening their steps.
“Yoongi please stand up”, you beg, tugging at the sleeve of his dress, “they’re going to hurt you if you don’t stand up.”
Yoongi doesn’t budge, panting heavily.
“They’re coming Yoongi”, you fall to your knees, trying your hardest to wiggle your head between his tied up arms. You could lift him like that, if only he would let you wiggle inside.
“Stand up!” the man yells and whips Yoongi on the back.
Yoongi tenses up and lets out an almost inaudible whimper.
“Stop that! He’s already standing up!” you scream.
You tug at Yoongi’s arm, “please stand up.”
“I can’t”, he whispers shakily.
“What? No, you have to. He is going to hurt you again”, you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“Time’s over, stand up”, the man barks and raises his whip.
“No!” you exclaim, hugging Yoongi’s back to accept the hit in his stead. You whimper, grasping Yoongi’s arm tightly. It hurts like nothing you have ever felt before, forcing the tears to run down your cheeks, “why are you doing this to him? He didn’t do anything wrong! Hurt me instead!”
The man scoffs, storing his whip back on his belt.
“Don’t you get it princess? You are reserved for Morrok. We’ll just have to hurt your warrior in your stead.”
“You monsters”, you sob, hiding your face in Yoongi’s back, “Yoongi please stand up”, you beg.
“I can’t.”
“Hey Kentov help this fucker up, it’s no good if he dies here”, the leader yells from the front. 
“Yes my Lord”, Kentov grumbles and grabs Yoongi’s arms, “stand up Sire, seems like the boss still wants you to live.”
Yoongi can barely stand. You are by his side in an instance, holding him as best as possible.
“I’ll help you. Lean onto me Yoongi.”
“Walk, we don’t have all day", Kentov and the other man push you and Yoongi.
Yoongi stumbles, you hold him as best as possible, forcing down a painful sob as looking at Yoongi’s face rips your heart apart.
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They leave you far away from the fire, shackled to a tree and with hunger plaguing your bodies. They hit you again - Kentov and the other man - when their boss wasn’t looking. It hurt you, but you didn’t care, not when Yoongi was lying beside you unconscious and barely breathing.
“See you tomorrow princess, sleep tight.”
And with that they leave whilst laughing as if life was the greatest joy. You glare at them, cursing them silently. Yoongi moves below you, moaning in pain.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, turning him around, “no, Yoongi please wake up”
You drag him back to the tree with lots of effort. You allow him to rest his head on your lap. He rolls to his side, pulling his legs to his chest before whimpering softly.
“Why are they hurting you? Why you?” you ask shakily, caressing his ruined face with trembling fingers. It rips you apart inside for he was never supposed to bear your sufferings or those of your traitorous husband. You sob, soiling his face with your hot tears.
“I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry for doing this to you”, a whimper shakes your body, “I’m sorry.”
You tug a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his cheek desperately.
“I will fix this. I, I can fix this”, you stutter and close your eyes, “I can fix this.”
Yoongi barely takes in the spells of your ancestors you begin to whisper. He feels that his face doesn’t ache as much anymore however. You sob, whispering shakily. The words are hard to remember. You never paid attention when your mother taught you the magic of your ancestors. You curse yourself for not being more attentive, maybe then you could have already escaped your abductors and Yoongi would have never had to suffer.
At least you paid attention when your mother taught you the healing spells of your people and while you remembered only one of the dozen spells you hoped that it was the one most effective.
Yoongi opens his eyes all of sudden, looking up at you.
You touch his back.
“No!” he squeaks and flinches away. He presses his eyes closed, trembling in fear.
“Please trust me”, you whisper and sob softly, “I will stop the pain.”
Yoongi listens to the words of ancient times, eyes filling with tears because he felt it hurt less and less with every word you spoke until it stopped completely.
You open your eyes, meeting his relieved gaze.
“Did I help?” you ask him.
He nods his head, furrowing his brows, “thank you so much”, he chokes out.
Your heart fills with relief and yet it keeps aching.
You whimper, cupping his cheek, “I’m so sorry, for everything.”
“Your Highness.”
“No, I’m not worthy of your respect”, you sob, “please call me by my name.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. You comb your fingers through his hair, hoping that this could lessen the pain in his mind.
“Forgive me Yoongi, I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please I am so terribly sorry”, you choke out.
Yoongi sits up with your help. He faces you, reaching out to cup your cheek and brush your tears away.
“We have to escape from here”, he whispers, “Your Highness, we can’t stay here. Who knows what they will do to you now that their restraints are gone.”
“I don’t care”, you whimper, “let them hurt me, at least I deserve to be hurt for all the cruelty I inflicted on others.”
“No my princess, you don’t want to live through this”, he insists, “you don’t know what they are capable of.”
“Why are you defending me? You said so yourself, I inflicted more pain on you than anyone else. They hurt you because of me. It’s my fault”, choke out and sob.
Yoongi grasps your face tighter, forcing you to look into his eyes. They were filled with tears, yet deep down you found comfort in them.
“I lost my sister to people like Morrok. I had to watch as they all took turns on her until she died from the pain and even then they didn’t stop. Don’t you get it? These people aren’t human and they are going to do the same thing to you once we reach Morrok.”
He rests his forehead against yours.
“I can’t let this happen to you. I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe and I intend on keeping it”, he whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. 
“Yoongi”, you whimper, twisting the front of his dress. Your tears feel heavy as they roll down your cheeks, but they were nothing against the heaviness on your heart as you opened your eyes and realised that he had his closed. They were nothing against the invisible hand around your lungs as you realised that he exhaled shakily before opening them. They were nothing against the unbearable flutter in your stomach when they finally met yours.
“I will find a way, please trust me”, he whispers.
“I trust you Sire.”
He nods his head.
“Now turn around, Your Highness, I need to see if your wound is infected.”
“No, you don’t have to. I can heal myself”, you say, running your fingers over your lip to heal your cut in demonstration.
He hums in understanding and sneaks a glance at the men far away.
“You should sleep Your Highness, I feel like tomorrow we aren’t going to stop for a long time.”
“What about you?”
“I will make sure that nobody hurts you.”
“No, you should sleep in my stead. I’m not tired.”
“Your Highness I – “
You silence him by cupping his cheeks.
“This is an order, Sire.”
He falters, furrowing his brows.
“I’m not going to repeat myself”, you say sternly and settle back against the tree. You part your legs, “rest against me, I will keep you warm.”
He is hesitant, studying you from head to toe. You are offering him kindness, a warm place to sleep. This isn’t like you. What happened to the cruel princess he so liked to hate?
“Come here”, you order.
Yoongi obeys groggily. He wiggles between your tied up arms and rests against your chest. Every fibre in his body is tensed. This can’t be happening. You rest your hands on his stomach.
“Now rest back and sleep”, you whisper.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to rest his head back against you. This goes beyond his promise of protecting you.
“Rest”, you say sternly, forcing him to his luck with a gentle push with your hands.
Yoongi grunts, exhaling loudly the moment the back of his head collides with your shoulder.
You stay silent, abandoning Yoongi in his racing thoughts. The lines between reality and his memory of you are starting to blur more and more. Are you even the cruel princess or is your sudden kindness just a desperate act of survival now that you had nobody else but him? Did you truly want his best or were you simply trying to keep him by your side because you feared for your life? Did you care for him?
Yoongi drifted off to sleep before he could get his answers, snuggling into your chest and sighing softly.
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They are talking. Kentov and another man. They are talking a few steps away from you, having their backs turned to you and Yoongi. Yoongi watches them intently, studying them from head to toe to find weaknesses in their armour.
It was silent where they abandoned him and the princess, if they weren’t talking so much the silence would have been comfortable even. The princess was currently sleeping, resting her head against Yoongi’s shoulder. He felt her every shiver because of the cold night air, wishing for fire fairies to come to her rescue and warm her with their golden breaths. He knew that tonight must be the night of their escape. The whispers of Morrok became more. They must be close. He can’t wait yet another night and risk the princess’ wellbeing in the process.
The princess shifts beside him, pressing herself closer in search for warmth. He felt himself shiver less on the parts of his body she touches. She was warming him as well.
Yoongi lowers his eyes and concentrates on cutting through his ropes again. He watches his abductors as he works, planning his attack. The man next to Kentov is only carrying his sword tonight. What a fool. Kentov only carried a small knife, playing with it mindlessly. Oh what simple fools. It will be an easy task to overwhelm them.
He turns his head to the princess and nudges her with his chin.
“Your Highness wake up”, he whispers.
The princess purrs in her sleep, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. He truly felt guilty for having to wake her. She fought bravely through her tiredness. Yoongi knew that her healing magic kept her alive, for every other person would have long died of exhaustion. But even magic has its limits and it seems that tonight was the night her body forsake her. She fell asleep on his shoulder the moment she sat down. He should allow her to sleep, but he can’t.
“Your Highness wake up”, he tries again, shaking his shoulder softly.
You groan, blinking slowly.
“It’s time Your Highness”, Yoongi says.
“For what?” your voice was heavy in sleep.
“They are speaking of Morrok again. We are getting too close, we need to flee tonight.”
You finally lift your head from his shoulder, looking at him with heavy eyes.
“Now? In this darkness?”
He nods his head, “it will hide us.”
“I understand”, you nod your head slowly, blinking your eyes, “How are we going to flee?” you ask him.
“I will do it.”
“But your limbs are tied.”
“Not anymore”, he says, revealing his untied wrists and ankles.
“How?” you gasp.
“They were foolish enough to place us next to those sharp stones. I used them to cut through the ropes”, he explains.
He gets on his knees and cups your face. You feel your cheeks tingle at the touch.
“Now stay Your Highness, I will overwhelm them”, he whispers.
Yoongi moves fast and silent. Like a phantom of white light he dances around the two men, striking them down quickly. One falls down with his neck broken. Kentov startles, turning to his now dead friend only to run directly into Yoongi’s blade. Yoongi twists the sharp blade in the eye socket of the man, muffling his screams with a suffocating grip on his mouth. Finally, Yoongi watches the life die out of Kentov’s eye. He drops his body without making a sound, pulling the blade free and wiping it on the man’s clothes.
Then he turns back to you. There was blood on his face and hands. He closes the distance between you and him, cutting through your ropes.
“That was astonishing Sire”, you gasp, grasping his arm as he helps you stand up.
“That was nothing”, he dismisses you, hurrying back to the bodies. He takes one of the men, looking at you over his shoulder, “help me Your Highness, we need to hide the bodies.”
You help him, grunting quietly as you drag the heavy body of Kentov behind some shrubs.
“Now let’s run, we need to put distance between us and Morrok’s people.”
Yoongi stops and turns. He watches you take off Kentov’s sword belt and strip the two men of their furs. You stand up, wrapping one of the furs around your body.
“Here take these.”
Yoongi strips the sword to his body and drapes the fur over his shoulders. The knife he stores in the belt as well, grasping your hand next.
“Now quiet, follow me.”
You run, using what little moonlight the tense forest allowed to shine through as your only guidance. Your legs wanted to give up on you. Sleep was still lingering in your veins, making your head so terribly dizzy. But you knew not to complain and to keep running. You weren’t just gallivanting through the forest on a moonlit night because it was fun, you were running for your lives. You aren’t allowed to stop. Yoongi said so himself, you and him needed to put as much distance between Morrok’s men and yourself as possible.
“I can see the end”, he calls over his shoulder, “hurry Your Highness it’s not long anymore.”
You watch his hair dance in the wind. Then the forest stops. The moon is blinding after the endless darkness, soaking his hair in silver lights and painting his skin in ivory. He turns, slowing down and touching your shoulders.
“Please hold on for only a little longer. You know this path don’t you?”
You nod your head, breathing so heavily you taste blood on your tongue. You have been running for too long, your healing magic is so close to forsaking you.
“We walked this path this morning, we just need to reach this forest and then we can hide in the shrubs”, he tells you, “hold on until then.”
Then you run again. You run over the endless fields, fighting the punishing winds. The furs are helping a little with the cold, but your eyes burned unbearably. You stumble and fall.
Yoongi turns, lifting you up quickly.
“Don’t stop now, it is not long anymore.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know Your Highness, me too. I’m terribly tired, but please find strength in your legs. We need to find shelter in the forest. Those fields are too open.”
The sky burns in the fires of the rising sun once you reach the forest. Behind you the moon was still setting, disappearing behind the black forest which seems like a dark spot in the distance now.
You don’t go far into the forest and then your legs are already giving up on you, dragging Yoongi down with you. You and him roll down a steep hill of sharp gravel and wet dirt, colliding with a high wall of red rocks in the end.
You groan, rolling to your back.
Yoongi grunts, head aching from hitting it against the rock on impact.
“I think my leg is broken”, you press out.
“Don’t try to move it”, he chokes out, holding his aching wrist. He is sure that he broke it as well.
“Urgh heavens”, you groan, forcing your body to sit up one last time. You stare at your slanted leg, moving it slightly. You hiss and bite down on your own hand, “oh, it is most definitely broken.”
“Don’t move it Your Highness”, Yoongi answers you, barely keeping his eyes open. Exhaustion is catching up with him.
You touch your broken bone and close your eyes. The words of your ancestors come easy to your tongue these days. Relief is instant. You can feel how your bone shifts back into its place and how your words mend the cracks.
“I healed it”, you whisper, carrying shock in your voice, “Sire, I managed to heal my broken bones.”
“Mhm, that’s good Your Highness”, he breathes.
“Sire your wrist and head”, you gasp, dragging yourself over to him. You touch his head first, whispering the words again. Yoongi sighs softly, moving his head slightly now that it wasn’t aching anymore.
“Hand me your wrist next, I will heal it.”
Yoongi is too weak to fight back, allowing you to wrap your fingers around his wrist despite the pain it causes him. The pain isn’t of long however and then blissful relief follows. His bones and tendons shift under your fingertips, healing under your spell.
“How is that?” you ask him.
He peels his eyes open slightly, nodding his head.
“Your magic is getting quicker Your Highness”, he whispers with his voice barely there.
“I know”, you smile tiredly, collapsing on the ground, “it drains me so much however.”
Yoongi hums, scooping you up in his arms. Like this you are sharing warmth again, finding comfort in his chest.
You fall asleep in an instance, sharing a deep slumber with Yoongi as above your heads the sun moves over the sky twice before your eyes finally open again. 
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You walked for five days then you reached a river. It was clear, reflecting the blue of the sky. You were drinking some of the water while Yoongi was washing his weapons and hands beside you when your eyes caught something moving in the reeds on the other side of the river. You squint your eyes to see better and gasp. A human!
“Sire, look there is someone in the river!”
Yoongi whips around, eyes squinted so he could see better. He picks up his sword and runs to you.
“Stay here Your Highness”, he orders you, jumping into the river.
It isn’t steep where you are sojourning, reaching Yoongi by his navel. He can wade through it easily. He turns around.
“Your Highness I told you to stay back”, he hisses.
“Well, I decided that I want to help”, you answer him.
Yoongi looks at the big stone you are holding and scoffs.
“With that?” he asks and nods at the stone
You sneak a glance at it.
“Fine, if they move try to hit them with all your power”, he murmurs and grabs your hand, “don’t let go Your Highness.”
“I won’t”, you promise him, hating your skin for prickling at the feeling.
The body was stuck in sticks and high grasses. Yoongi squats down and turns it.
A man. Black hair. His face was handsome yet pale, his plump lips were blue and purple.
“Is he dead?” you ask.
Yoongi touches the man’s neck.
“No, he’s alive.”
“Then let’s help him!” you exclaim, dropping the stone to wrap your fingers around the stranger’s wrist instead.
Yoongi stops you.
“Why are you stopping me? Look, he is clearly hurt!”
You and him look at the bite mark on the man’s leg. Blood is dyeing the water red around the water. Yoongi reaches for the man’s chest then, pulling the ripped shirt away.
“What’s that mark? Is that a raven?” you ask, looking between the stranger’s tattoo and Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi seems worried.
“Just as I had thought”, he murmurs coldly and stands up, “come Your Highness it’s not safe here”, he says and grabs your hand.
“What? But we need to help this man”, you insist loudly.
“No. He is one of them”, Yoongi says, tugging you away from the stranger.
“One of them? Morrok’s people? But they don’t wear such marks.”
“Rafkan’s people, Your Highness. He is a Raven.”
You look at the stranger.
“But…he doesn’t look like one.”
Yoongi scoffs and tugs at your arm.
“We need to keep moving”, he says dryly.
“No, I want to help this man. Maybe they marked him against his will and he escaped.”
Yoongi looks into your eyes.
“Your Highness I – “
“This is an order, Sire.”
He grinds his teeth and sighs in defeat.
“Very well, we’ll help. But I’m not staying until he wakes.”
He walks back to the stranger and lifts him onto his back. He grunts, changes his grip on the stranger’s arms and walks back to you.
“I saw a shed a hundred steps from here, we’ll lie him down by the riverbed and then we’ll leave.”
“Thank you.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, giving you one judgemental look before fighting his way through the water. You stay by his side, making sure that the stranger doesn’t slip off of Yoongi’s back.
“Do you think that someone lives in this shed?” you ask him.
“The chimney is smoking, so yes Your Highness”, he answers you.
“So let’s ask them for help. Or new clothes and some food”, you say. 
“We don’t know whose side they are on Your Highness.”
You huff out air.
“You’re right, I didn’t even think of that”, you murmur.
Thankfully the river didn’t become any deeper so it was an easy task to carry the stranger to the riverbed and then set him down on the safety of dry land. You put a stone under the stranger’s head so he would rest more comfortably, even if that made Yoongi shake his head in disagreement. He watches you stand up with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Nothing”, he murmurs. He looks at the shed, a little less than fifteen steps up on the hill, “let’s go, Your Highness.”
“Where are we going now?”
“They have clothes hanging outside.”
“What? Do you want to steal that poor person’s clothes?” you gasp, wiggling your hand in Yoongi’s tight grip.
“No. I’m not going to steal!”
“You don’t have to, I will.”
He sends you a glare over his shoulder.
“We need new clothes, the weather is going to get colder. We are going to freeze in those measly dresses.”
You huff out air, “fine, but place this on their steps”, you say and take off one of your rings.
Yoongi accepts it with a grumble before stomping off to steal the clothes.
You watch him with a guilty sting in your stomach, biting on your fingernails nervously.
He returns with a heap of clothes in his arms.
“Let’s leave”, he grumbles.
“I can’t believe that we stole that person’s clothes”, you say, looking over your shoulder at the ever smaller growing shed.
“We paid for them, that ring is worth more than hundreds of those clothes. They will forgive us.”
You huff out air and kick a stone back into the river.
“Do you think the wounded stranger will be found soon?”
“By the person in the shed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they saw us taking their clothes?”
“I hope not.
“How long do you think we still need to walk?”
“Far enough that they won’t find us.”
“Do you know where this river will lead us?”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No Your Highness.”
“Do you think this is still our home country?”
Yoongi stops and turns around. You almost collided with his body in the process, stopping with a surprised squeak leaving your throat.
“Please, for just a moment be quiet”, he hisses.
You pout, “are you forbidding me my mouth?”
“Yes Your Highness I am. We don’t know where we are or what lingers in those forests and your endless chattering will alarm everything in a radius of fifty miles.”
You cross your arms in front of your arms and furrow your brows.
“You’re rude.”
“Perhaps, but I am trying to keep you alive.”
“Fine”, you give in and huff out air, “I’ll be quiet from now on.”
He nods his head in agreement and turns back around to lead the way.
You are quiet for the rest of the way, watching the back of Yoongi’s head most of the time. He is using a dirty rag to keep his long hair out of his face. He ripped it off his nightgown and the hairstyle was messy. He also dearly needs a hair wash, but you weren’t any better either. Your smell is disgusting you.
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You find your shelter after an hour of walking. An abandoned shed beside the river. The windows were missing and the door was almost falling out of its hinges. It seems safe for the night, dry too and it had a working bucket inside. It was truly a welcome change to the otherwise cold and wet nights outside.
You sit down in front of it with an exhausted sigh, watching Yoongi throw the pile of clothes in front of your feet and then sit down as well. He begins sorting through the clothes in an instance, doing so with a concentrated furrow of his brows.
“You should go wash up Your Highness, I’ll take watch”, he tells you.
He looks up with bafflement on his face.
“The river?”
“But it’s cold.”
He scoffs and looks back at the clothes.
“Fine”, you murmur, “I’m already going.”
You hide behind a big rock so Yoongi wouldn’t be able to glance at you. Not that he would ever look at you when you were bared. You know that he was way too stuck up and obsessed with his duties to think so crudely.
You sink into the water with a loud squeak.
“What’s wrong?” you can hear Yoongi’s worried call.
“It’s so cold!” you tell him.
You don’t hear anything from him afterwards, but you know that he is most definitely scoffing right now, or maybe he is clicking his tongue instead.
The water isn’t just cold, it is icy. Your body is covered in goosebumps and shivers make your muscles tense painfully. You hate every second of being submerged and yet somehow being submerged in cold yet clean water feels like luxury after weeks of having to sleep in your own shit and piss.
And while the bath would have been even more effective with the help of soaps, you finally feel human again once you leave the river. You wrap your dirty clothes around your body, walking back to Yoongi barefoot.
“Ouch, ah, ouch”, you grunt.
Yoongi looks at you in worry, eyes widening when he sees the half-naked state you were in. He turns around quickly, scratching the side of his neck.
“Those stones hurt on the feet”, you say and sit down next to him.
He turns around even more, clearing his throat before he stands up. He has his back turned to you.
“I’m going to clean up now. I put your new clothes on the log over there”, he tells you nervously, hurrying down to the river afterwards.
You chuckle. He is so stuck-up sometimes.
Then you turn to the pile of clothes and begin to dress yourself. They are a big change to your ripped nightgown. The fabric is thick and sturdy, warming your limbs. You look down at your body. It is so peculiar to see your legs in trousers. They aren’t really tradition in your lands, for neither women nor men. You liked them however. They feel so warm. You could get used to it. 
Once dressed you do your hair, tying it out of your face and neck. Your mother always told you that it was important to keep the wet hair out of your neck on a cold day, otherwise a terrible cold could take control of your body. The memory makes your chest ache. Oh what you wouldn’t give to experience it once again, if only so you could freshen up your memory of your mother’s face.
You finish the hairstyle by tying a tight knot.
“Finally, oh I feel human again”, you sigh.
You turn then.
“Oh”, you gasp.
Yoongi isn’t hiding behind the rock. He has his back turned to you, the water reaches just above his hips.
You should look away. It is rude to look.
His body is sturdier than it seemed in the loose dresses of your people. Broad shoulders and a well defined back. Strong arms with lean muscles tensing and relaxing as he rubs his body clean. His skin is fair yet covered in scars. You wonder what could have happened to him.
Yoongi lowers himself then, grunting as he does. He disappears for a moment, making you hold your breath with him.
Suddenly he emerges with a loud gasp, stroking his hands through his hair. He has his head tilted back, giving you a glimpse of his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted as he is breathing heavily because of the cold temperature.
You should look away. You are such a dirty woman.
Yoongi stands up again. The water drips from his body, looking like stars against the sunlight. He is farther out the water now, giving you a glimpse of the beginning of his bottom.
Your heart flutters. You should look away. You have to look away. It is not your right to watch him bathe.
He turns then. Your heart races. Time allows you to see his toned torso just enough that you can notice the dozens of scars covering his pale skin and then your eyes have travelled far enough up his body that your gazes meet.
You feel like your eyes may fall out of their sockets because of how wide you rip them open. You turn away in an instance, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“What is wrong with me?” you murmur.
You can hear his steps as he makes his way back to you. He leans down to pick up his clothes, his hair is dripping water on the ground. Your heart is racing uncontrollably. Oh how you hope that he won’t call you out on your staring.
“Are you liking the clothes, Your Highness?” he asks.
“Yes, they are warm”, you answer him, touching your own cheeks to stop them from burning.
“Good”, he says dryly then disappears inside the shed to change into his clothes.
You look at him again as he leaves, running your eyes over his shoulders and down his spine to his legs.
You laugh nervously, touching your chest to feel your racing heartbeat.
“Have I lost my mind?”
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Yoongi steps out after a while. He is carrying his sword. Your eyes meet, your heart beginning to flutter again. He knows what you are thinking and you know what he is thinking, yet neither one of you speaks it out loud.
“I’m going to hunt”, he says dryly.
“I’ll come with you”, you say, stumbling to your feet.
“No, stay here and prepare the fire.”
He steps closer, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. Your heart skips yet another beat at the gesture.
“Take this, use it against anyone and anything that isn’t me”, he tells you, placing a big knife in your palm.
You close your fingers around the handle, pulse racing in your chest.
“If someone tries to attack you, stab them here”, he says, pulling you closer to his body. The tip of the knife is digging into his stomach, his fingers feel strong around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.
You swallow, nodding your head.
“And if that isn’t possible, try to stab them here”, he explains further, moving the tip of the knife to his armpit, “and do it hard”, he adds, grunting quietly as he makes you poke him with the knife.
Oh you must be losing your mind. You have never felt such sparks before. As if millions of fire fairies were crawling over your skin.
“This is also a good place. If you cut deep enough it will kill them within seconds”, he says, guiding the knife to his groin, making your eyes widen in the process. His fingers tighten around your wrist, his legs part so he could show it to you better, “cut like this and they can’t walk”, he shows it to you, sending your mind into a frenzy.
You nod your head in understanding, eyes flitting up and meeting with Yoongi’s. He is frowning, he doesn’t falter under your gaze but you do. You never falter. You must be losing your mind.
“Understood?” he asks.
You clear your throat and take a step back, twisting the knife in your fingers.
“Y-yes thank you”, you say.
“Mhm”, Yoongi says, turning his back to you. He looks at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back at nightfall. Don’t go too far.”
“I-I won’t”, you stutter.
“Mhm”, he nods his head in contentment then finally runs into the forest.
He soon disappears behind high trees and tense shrubs.
“Ha”, you let out and laugh breathlessly, “I must be losing my mind. I must be losing my mind. I just must.”
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You had been trying for hours to light this fire.
“Come on, how hard can it be to light a fire?” you murmur angrily.
The door opens and in steps Yoongi, carrying two rabbits. He studies you from head to toe then looks at the unlit fire.
"I was out for three hours, what did you do in this time?" he asks, squatting down next to you to take the stones out of your hands. 
"Trying to start a fire", you hiss. 
Yoongi hits the stones together. Sparks fly, the dry grass is catching fire in an instance.
“How did you manage to do that?” you gasp.
He clicks his tongue, sneaking a look your way. Yoongi blows on the embers until flames swirl in his breath and reach the wood. 
"Oh why is it smoking so much?" you gasp, coughing loudly. 
"Where did you get those twigs from?" 
"The forest, I picked them." 
"Did you pick them off the ground or off the trees?" 
"The trees of course, the wood on the ground looked dirty." 
Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head. 
"The wood is too wet, pick up the twigs off the ground next time." 
You huff out air, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and scoffs. 
"You're belittling me." 
"I wouldn’t dare", he murmurs sarcastically and straightens up, "there we go, the fire should burn despite the wrong twigs. Come let's skin the rabbits." 
"What? Skin?" 
"Yes?" he quirks up his left brow, "unless you want to eat them with their fur." 
"No, n-no of course not I am just", you laugh nervously. 
"Have you never skinned a rabbit before?" 
"Of course not. Why should I have? I'm the princess." 
"Well", he clicks his tongue, "you're going to learn tonight”, he says dryly and throws one of the dead rabbits on your lap.
You gagged as you did it. You gagged and almost threw up. So Yoongi ended up doing the rest of your rabbit, giving you the task of fetching water from the river. You didn’t miss the judgment in his voice as he spoke.
You managed to fetch water, that task was easy enough for you. Oh you felt like such a useless idiot.
Yoongi in the meantime had stuck the rabbits into the flames to cook. He is staring into the fire when you enter the shed, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed. 
He raises his head at the sound of the door closing. 
"You're back." 
"Yes I am and I got water."
Yoongi scoffs in amusement, looking back into the flames. You claim your previous spot next to Yoongi, placing the bucket of water between you and him. 
Yoongi fetches water, presenting it to you.
"Drink Your Highness." 
"Thank you", you accept it. 
The water is cold and tastes clean. After the torture you have been through you will always cherish this sensation. 
You prepare a bowl for Yoongi once you finish yours. 
"You need to drink too, Sire." 
Yoongi looks at the bowl then into your eyes.
"Thank you", he accepts it and drinks.
You look into the flames, watching the rabbits slowly turn brown. Yoongi cleans his hands in the remaining water, drying them on his ruined nightgown which he had crumbled up beside him.
"Do you think that we can return home one day?" you ask. 
"Yes, I truly hope you can." 
"And you?" you ask, turning your head to him. 
"I'll make sure that you will." 
"God, you are truly dedicated to your duties aren’t you?" 
"Yes, Your Highness, they are important to me."
"Is that why you accepted everything I did to you?" 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way. 
You sigh. 
"I truly feel terrible for my past, I never should have hurt you. You truly didn’t deserve it." 
Yoongi stays silent, fumbling with his fingers nervously. 
"You know", you look at his face, "I never actually thought you ugly. I just said it because everyone else said it" you pause, studying his face, "I apologize, you aren’t ugly." 
Yoongi blinks rapidly, lowering his head before turning away. He laughs quietly, almost in disbelief even, shaking his head and scratching the side of his neck.
"Where did you get the scar on your face from?"
He falters, sneaking a glance your way. You seem honest in your interest.
"From my days on the streets", he says quietly, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forgive me for asking." 
He dismisses with a quick shake of his head. 
"Is that where you got all the other scars from too?" 
Yoongi touches his torso, "some of them. Many I got from protecting the Queen." 
You inhale shakily. 
"Fuck", he presses out and lowers his head, "I should have been with her. If I ran faster I could have saved her.  It's my fault that she is dead." 
"No Sire, no. It's not your fault. It was Morrok's people who killed her. You did your best. And if mother was here right now she would tell you that you are truly her strongest warrior." 
Yoongi lets out a trembling breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry, not in front of you.
"And also thank you for deciding to save me and for keeping me safe", you say.
“Mhm”, he hums and nods his head. He is squeezing his own fingers so much that his knuckles are turning white.
"Can I be blunt with you?" 
"I'm a pitiful woman." 
Yoongi looks at you in confusion. 
"I never killed something before, all the trophies on the walls are that of my friends. I just pretended that they were mine.”
You laugh painfully, “and without you I would already be dead, I have no idea of the workings of the world." 
Yoongi scoffs, "yeah I noticed”, he murmurs, earning himself a glare from you. 
"Fine I'll take that blow”, you murmur and pout.
Yoongi chuckles deeply, shaking his head. 
"And yet", your smile falls, "I can't help but feel guilty. My mother insisted I study the spells of our ancestors and yet I never paid attention in her lessons." 
You throw a small piece of wood into the fire. 
"She taught me many spells, powerful spells which could have prevented all of this. And yet I never even tried to remember them. If I had then –" you ball your hands into fists, "– if I had then perhaps we could have fled weeks ago and you would have never had to suffer."
Yoongi studies you. Regret. He thought that he would never see such an emotion on your face. 
"I'm such a pitiful woman." 
"No you’re not." 
You turn. 
"You’re not pitiful just…spoiled.“
He makes you laugh, truly and honestly laugh. It confuses Yoongi, who had never seen you so happy before.
“Oh Sire”, you say and chuckle, “you know? There was a time when I couldn’t stand your bluntness, but I must say you are truly a cheer to talk to.”
You give him a smile. Yoongi looks at your lips and knits his brows, looking away for your reaction is utterly confusing him.
“I want to be different from now on. I want to study the spells of our ancestors and I want to use them to restore our home and to heal and nurture and be good”, you say and smile, “and I want you to teach me the arts of fighting.”
Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems flabbergasted.
“Can you do that for me Sire?”
He blinks rapidly, “yes Your Highness I-“, he clears his throat, “-of course I can teach you.”
You give him another smile, it makes him look away in confusion again.
“Thank you, Sire.”
He picks up a piece of wood and throws it into the flames.
“Call me Yoongi, Your Highness.”
“Fine, if you call me by my name as well.”
“I – “, he sneaks a glance your way.
He stands up all of a sudden.
“Where are you going?” you ask him.
“I’m getting new water”, he murmurs and storms out of the shed with the bucket in his hands.
“Why did he seem so flustered?” you whisper under your breath.
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Yoongi returns when the rabbits have long finished cooking. You waited with eating, lifting your head once he finally returns.
“Finally you are back, the rabbits have finished cooking”, you tell him.
“Mhm”, he hums, setting the filled water bucket down between you and him.
He sits down with his legs crossed, picking up his rabbit. He begins eating it in silence, staring into the flames.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No”, he says.
You chuckle, “fine, let’s eat in silence.”
Once you finished your meals and discarded the bones in the flames, Yoongi takes his nightgown and rolls it up. He lies down on his back close to the fire, resting his hands on his stomach. He keeps his eyes open, staring at the roof with his lips pressed into a thin line.
You do the same. Roll up your nightgown and lie down on the ground. You chose the spot between the fire and Yoongi, resting on your side to look at him.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
“What?” he asks nervously.
“Nothing, you just have rabbit on your cheek”, you say and reach out to clean it off the corner of his lips.
He furrows his brows and moves his head away. He feels so peculiar in his chest. Your fingers aren’t supposed to be able to touch him so tenderly.
“Sleep Your Highness”, he presses out, closing his eyes.
“Are we going to walk again tomorrow?”
You shiver, pulling the fur over your shoulders.
“I miss our home”, you say, making Yoongi clench his jaw.
“I know.”
“I can’t stand the cold, it hurts.”
“Neither can I”, Yoongi answers you and tries to close his tunic as best as possible.
“Do you think that we will still have to walk for long?”
“Yes, the sun sets eight hours after rising. We are further north than I had thought.”
“How long does the sun take to set at home?”
Yoongi scoffs and laughs quietly, “you are asking me questions.”
“Well, do you know the answer?”
“Well that explains why it is always so warm”, you murmur, reaching out to touch his arm.
He tenses up under your touch.
“Can we hold each other again for warmth?” you ask quietly and watch his chest rise and sink in a deep breath.
“If you insist.”
You hum then scoot closer to drape your arm across his stomach. You grunt and wiggle, trying to find a comfortable resting place for your head. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“Raise your head.”
You follow. Yoongi places his arm under your head, closing it around you to press you closer.
Now you are resting on his shoulder, lips inches away from his neck and heart racing in your chest.
“Sleep well”, he whispers and closes his eyes.
“You too”, you breathe, letting your eyes flutter closed. 
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Birds are chirping and in the distance the river gurgles. The air smells clean, carrying a faint hint of the fading embers of the once bright fire of last night. It is bright behind your eyelids, making the otherwise blackness seem glowing red. You are alone on the ground for your arms are holding nothing and your stomach is terribly cold.
Then you finally open your eyes, rolling onto your back with a soft sigh.
“Oh I truly miss my bed”, you groan, stretching your torso in an attempt to get rid of the ache in your lower back.
You sit up.
Yoongi isn’t here, as a matter of fact, he even left the shed door open.
“Oh dear, hopefully he didn’t run off without me.”
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He didn’t run off. He is sitting by the riverbed, legs crossed and with the sunlight warming his limbs. He was currently trying to tie his hair out of his face, seemingly struggling with it.
“Good morning Sire”, you announce yourself.
He looks over his shoulder, “good morning Your Highness”, he murmurs and returns to his task of doing his hair.
"Let me help", you offer. 
He shakes his head. 
You sit next to him, crossing your legs. Then you turn your head to watch him. He is trying again, lips curled into a concentrated pout and long fingers struggling with picking up his hair.
"I slept well tonight", you say. 
"Good, you need the strength", he answers you, grunting when his hair falls out of his fingers once again. 
"I also really enjoyed rabbit. I must say it is wonderful to eat again." 
"I think so too”, his hair falls again, “oh heavens! Will you stay!?"
You laugh, earning yourself an annoyed glare from him. He looks ridiculous with half his hair in a slanted bun and the other half hanging into his face. 
"Please just let me help, I can’t have you walking around looking as if you fought a Morgul by yourself", you say in a chuckle, closing the distance between you and him. 
"Do you even know how to do that?" he asks. 
"Yes of course I do. I am the eldest sister. Do you have any idea how often my siblings come into my room to ask for their hair to be tied? So let me help." 
He grinds his teeth and huffs out air. He hands you the piece of fabric in defeat. 
"I spent too many days braiding and brushing and tying up hair that I could work as a hairdresser if I wanted to." 
Yoongi chuckles quietly. It makes you smile as well.
You first open his attempt at a bun. You shake out his hair, thinking to yourself that it looks like strings of gold in the morning sun. 
Yoongi is twisting the fabric of his pants. The touch makes him shiver. It isn’t his place to shiver. 
"Now, the secret to a good bun is a good comb, but we can’t ask for luxury here", you say and begin combing your fingers through his hair, "my fingers will have to suffice." 
You pick up the strands of hair which are still hanging into his face. Yoongi is fighting against the urge to close his eyes for your fingertips felt like heaven as they danced across his forehead. 
“Perfect. Now I have all of your hair in a tight hold”, you say, “now our traditional ways would ask for a pin to twist your hair around, however we don’t – “
Yoongi raises a stick, “could that work?”
You chuckle, “I can work with that. Oh Yoongi, this is going to be a peculiar hairstyle”, you say, twisting his long hair around the stick in the traditional ways of your people.
Yoongi grinds his teeth, eyelids fluttering. The twist makes his scalp tingle. He shouldn’t feel such reactions.
“Now, let’s see if the stick can hold your hair”, you say and let go, “it does! How wonderful!” you exclaim.
You place your hands on his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his tense shoulders.
Yoongi forces down a sigh, fighting against the urge to roll his shoulders into your touch.
“We are done”, you let him know, stroking your hands down his arms. His muscles follow your touch, tensing and relaxing. You watch the vein in his neck twitch as his heart skips a beat. Your lips tingle in funny ways, almost as if they wanted to feel the twitch.
You touch his elbows, squeezing them softly.
“You look alluring with your hair like this”, you whisper.
Yoongi’s head snaps around, his eyes round and widened and his lips parted in shock. You look at them for only a second before nervousness makes your heart flutter unbearably.
“Ha”, you laugh breathily, pulling your hands away, “please forgive me.”
Your gazes meet in a second of braveness before breaking again.
“Ha”, he lets out, lowering his head, “we should keep moving, we can’t afford staying at a place too long. It’ll alarm people.”
“Of course, we should move”, you murmur, staring at your fingers in disbelief. You touched him.
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You walk a lot this day, following the river until crossing it over a wooden bridge and following the sun instead. You were further up north than Yoongi had initially thought so he told you. That was the only conversation you and him had on your long journey for your mind was racing with something else instead, repeating the imagery of his golden hair between your fingers over and over again.
You touched him this morning and told him that he looked beautiful. You feel as if you were losing your mind, for whenever you looked at him all you wanted to do was stare at him a little longer. Perhaps you spent too much time with him as your only companion. Perhaps you were losing your mind and all the time spent with him made your brain develop a magical attraction to him.
Yoongi disappeared inside a cave ten minutes ago, leaving with a quiet “I will make sure it is safe, stay here Your Highness”.
You were waiting outside for a while, shivering in the cold and watching the winds swirl over the lands. Then you saw a squirrel, red bushy fur and big round eyes. It was breaking some nuts on the rocks just a few steps from you. You decided to follow it down the path you and Yoongi had walked up before. The knife is clasped tightly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue is sticking out the corner of your mouth in concentration. The squirrel is going to be yours tonight, you will show Yoongi just how well you can hunt too. You are so concentrated on hunting that Yoongi’s worried voice is like a whisper in your ear.
Just a few more steps and dinner will be yours.
“Your Highness!”
You give him no reaction, tiptoeing closer and closer to the stone the squirrel is currently sitting on.
“Don’t go there!”
Almost there. It can’t escape now.
Yoongi tugs you back roughly, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. The squirrel jumps away.
“No!” you exclaim, whipping around, “you scared it away.”
“And you are inches away from dropping to your death”, he throws back.
Only now you notice just how tightly he is holding you and the beginning of the steep cliff under the tips of your toes. You shiver, taking a step back.
“How did I not notice that?” you gasp.
“I’m asking myself that too. Let’s go, the cave is safe for the night.”
He tugs at your arm, stomping up the path with his brows furrowed.
“You must think I am a complete fool”, you say, stumbling after him.
He sends you a look over his shoulder. You trip, stumble, catch yourself with the help of Yoongi.
“I was catching dinner.”
“Tzt”, he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You have to stop belittling me. I did your hair this morning”, you complain loudly, slipping on a rock.
Yoongi whips around and tugs you back up. His eyes are burning in anger. You ignore it, straightening your back as if nothing ever happened.
“So I am better than you at something too. Without me your hair would still look like a mess”, you say, reaching up to poke your finger into his bun.
Yoongi blinks rapidly and moves his head away.
“Stop doing that”, he says.
“Doing what?”
“Touch me like that.”
Your eyes flit to his lips. Yoongi can watch it happen, wetting his lips in response.
“Ha”, you let out, eyes flitting to the side, “I don’t know what you mean.”
He scoffs and turns his back to you.
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The fire is burning an hour later, warming your frozen limbs and illuminating the little cave. Yoongi caught two elkbirds. They are big birds with purple feathers and an orange peak. They looked beautiful. Their screams however sounded like songs of Morguls, bone shattering and it can make even the bravest warrior tremble in fear. Their flesh also tasted surprisingly similar to chicken, however one always says that about foreign meat so it was to one to decide how much truth they want to see in such a statement. It nourished your starved body however and that was all that was of importance to you tonight.
You stretch out your arms, holding your hands above the flames. 
“Oh how I have grown to love the presence of fires”, you say.
Yoongi nods his head, wrapping his fur around his torso tighter.
You chuckle, “I never thought that I would hear myself say something like that”, you laugh, “or that I would eat a elkbird for that matter.”
You stretch out your legs, wiggling your toes to warm even the most hidden parts of your feet. You can hear the storm outside. It was singing, howling in the valley below and carrying the snow of the high mountain peaks with it. You know that it is because you can watch it cover the ground outside your cave. It was significantly warmer in the cave, yet nothing can truly beat the comfort of your castle walls when the fireplaces were crackling calmingly and your body was submerged in a nice smelling bath. 
"Do you know what I'm going to do first once I'm home again?" 
"I'm going to take a long and hot bath. And I want it to smell like vanilla. And I want to eat Harken Cake and drink warm apple juice while I bathe", you say and sigh in blissful memory. 
"Mhm, that sounds nice", Yoongi agrees. 
"What are you going to do first?" 
"Make sure the castle is safe." 
"No not - gosh Sire I meant after our duties are done", you say and chuckle, "what are you going to do once everything is safe again?" 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and shrugs his shoulders.
"Come now, you must have something you want to do." 
"Sleep. I want to sleep in the comfort of my bed again with five blankets and a soft pillow under my head", he answers you and shifts restlessly, "and maybe I want to eat Harken Cake too and drink warm apple juice."
"Mhm that sounds nice. Oh Sire, I truly miss home." 
"I know Your Highness. Me too."
You turn so your back would be facing the fire. You shiver at first, feeling goosebumps run along your spine and arms. The change in temperature feels so nice on your skin. You can look at Yoongi in this position. His naked feet are buried in the fur you placed on the ground, his hands are folded, rubbing each other for warmth and his head is lowered slightly, eyes half-lidded as well. A single strand of hair had fallen out his bun, hanging into his face. It ends right where his eyebrow arches the highest.
“Do think that Morrok’s men are looking for us?” you ask him.
“I can’t say, perhaps. We killed two of their men and you’re the princess. They lost precious merchandise.”
“They are not going to find us, are they?”
He shakes his head.
You study his face. The flames cast dark shadows on his features, illuminating the rest in warmth.
“You truly aren’t a man of many words are you?”
"I don't have much to say or tell." 
"Oh come now Sire, now you are being mean to yourself. I'm sure you have many stories to tell." 
Yoongi raises his head, looking into your eyes with a sort of bafflement. He squeezes his own hands and lets out a breathy scoff, turning his head away. 
"Tell me something, Sire." 
He exhales through his nose and shakes his head. 
"Come, anything you want to tell." 
He sneaks a glance at you, bouncing his knee up and down twice. 
"I enjoy music", he says quietly, clenching his jaw in embarrassment afterwards.
"Music? Oh that’s nice. I enjoy it too. Do you have a favourite kind of music?" 
"No. I don’t know…" he looks at you again for only a second then he looks away, "…I like songs which tell a story." 
"So the ones with poems in their singing?" 
He nods his head, "or with...emotion in their melodies." 
You find yourself smiling. That is something you truly hadn’t expected from him, yet it feels so perfectly fitting for him now that you know. 
"That's lovely, Sire. I shall hold a festival of song and dance then once we are home."
He furrows his brows in confusion.
"It will be my tribute to you. For keeping me safe and also for being such good company in those endless weeks." 
He flusters, shifting on the spot and touching the side of his neck. You know that he is not going to answer you. He seems too overwhelmed for that. So you turn to warm your stomach and face, closing your eyes in contentment. 
“Are you good at keeping secrets, Sire?”
He hesitates at first. You look at him over your shoulder. 
“Yes", he finally says.
“Well then I want to tell you something because I trust you.”
Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you because you helped my traitorous husband, I hurt you because I was jealous of you.”
He laughs dryly. You turn and send him a glare.
“Don’t laugh, I am telling the truth.”
He stops laughing, looking at you with his face contorted in bafflement.
“Why would you be jealous of me?”
“Because my husband didn’t like what I have between my legs, but instead he liked what you have.”
Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion. You sigh loudly and turn back to the flames.
“I was never intimate with him because he couldn’t harden no matter how hard I tried. Later, I found him hiding behind the door to watch you train. He was touching himself.”
Yoongi widens his eyes and parts his lips.
“I hated you for it and I also felt ashamed”, you lower your eyes, “so I told everybody that I hurt you because you helped my husband that one time. When in reality I hurt you because I wanted revenge because you had what I couldn’t have.”
You sigh and laugh painfully.
“Perhaps that is also another reason why I called you ugly. I felt less ugly myself when I did it.”
Yoongi scoffs and lowers his head.
“Now tell me Sire, how often did you please him?”
“What?” he stares at you in shock.
You turn. There was no anger on your face, no jealousy or distaste. Just honest interest and perhaps childish hopefulness.
“You can be honest with me. Was it every night?”
Yoongi laughs dryly. He looks to the side, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“I never pleased him, the only times I interacted with him was when I helped him up and later when I killed him.”
You let out a breath of relief and laugh.
“That feels good to hear. At least my marriage wasn’t as broken as I thought it was.”
Yoongi furrows his brows and grinds his teeth. He watches you throw a little rock into the flames and lower your eyes in sadness afterwards. Perhaps it was the long time he spent with you, but he didn’t like seeing you sad. Not anymore at least. He wants to see you smile. Perhaps he truly was losing his mind.
So he scoots closer to you, so close in fact that the fabrics of your clothes were touching. He drapes his fur across your shoulders, making you lean into him.  
“It wasn’t your fault”, he says.
You turn to look at him. He seems so tall in this position. You resting on the ground between his legs and him sitting on a log. You didn’t mind that he towered over you for the comfort in his gaze gave you the feeling that you and him were equal. 
“It wasn’t your fault that your husband liked the other kind of private parts. And it doesn’t mean that you are ugly.”
You blink rapidly and chuckle nervously. You turn away, staring into the flames with your heart racing in your chest. 
"Do you think I’m beautiful?" you ask him quietly, waiting for his answer with bated breath. 
Yoongi inhales through his nose and exhales loudly. 
"Yes", he whispers so quietly you almost missed it.
You turn, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes. He glances at you, looking up at the ceiling a moment later.
“You are going to fluster me”, you confess in a whisper.
He exhales in a nervous laugh and lowers his head. You study his features, finding magic in the way his nose curved. You draw closer until your arm touched his leg and he tenses up in nervousness.
“Are you like my husband too?” you ask him.
He shakes his head.
“But I never saw you with a woman. Most of my warriors found love with my servants. Why didn’t you?”
“Because they are fools. Love will blind one to one’s duties. If fewer of my men had their minds twisted by a woman then we could have protected the castle, but instead of following their duties they ran to rescue their lovers.”
“And you blame it on the magic of women instead of the human nature of wanting to protect the ones we love? Weren’t you also running to protect my mother?”
“Yes but I…” he falters, “…I did that because it was my duty.”
“Did you love my mother?”
He shakes his head, “not like my men loved their women.”
“But you loved her in a different way.”
“She saved me from death, I owed her.”
“Like a son owes his mother his life?”
You sigh.
“My mother was a great woman. Truly, her death carved a big hole into my chest.”
“It plaques me too”, he confesses in a whisper.
You rest your head against his knee, making him tense up even more. Perhaps it was the dim light of the fire, perhaps it was the privacy of the cave or perhaps it was your body’s desire to feel another’s skin, but you placed your hand on his other knee and danced your thumb over it softly.
“Do you sometimes wish to love like a man loves a woman?”
“Your Highness”, he begins and sighs, “you shouldn’t ask me that question”, he says, moving his knee away.
You sit up, resting on your knees. You are facing him completely, making him visibly scoot back.
“Why not?”
“You don’t want this”, he says and points at his face, “it doesn’t belong side by side with a princess.”
“What makes you think that I was asking this question in my own interest?” you ask, slightly flustered.
Yoongi looks into your eyes, bewildered as well.
“Why did you touch me then?”
“I truly don’t know. Perhaps I lost my mind.”
“Perhaps you did.”
You laugh breathlessly. Yoongi’s eyes race between yours, flitting to your lips ever so often.
He tenses up when you touch his knee again, freezing up more when you straighten up until you are face to face with him.
“Perhaps”, you begin, allowing your hand to slip to the beginning of his inner thigh, “perhaps I truly lost my mind. I think I like you, Sire.”
He lets out a loud laugh, moving his leg away.
“You confuse me”, he presses out.
“Yes!” you exclaim and nod your head, “I confuse myself for I swore to never like you and yet here I am, enjoying your presence and seeking your closeness.”
Yoongi’s eyes race between yours.
“And I understand now why my husband liked you”, you say and laugh, “you see Sire? I am losing my mind.”
Yoongi turns his head away, fumbling with his fingers.
“Your husband was a fool.”
“Yes, he was”, you agree, leaning closer to brush your lips over his neck.
Yoongi raises his shoulder to his ear and flinches away. Your gazes meet in shock.
“Your Highness, did you drink?”
You shake your head, “how?”
“Then stop that. All this walking is making you delusional, you won’t want this once we are home again.”
You lean closer and place a kiss on his scar, right on top of his cheek. You pull back, holding your breath. And while you were holding your breath, Yoongi releases it shakily, eyes looking everywhere but your face.
You kiss it again and again and again until you kissed it from its beginning on Yoongi’s forehead all the way over his eyelid and down to its end on his cheek. 
You pull back after stubbing it with the tip of your nose. Your fingers are hooked behind his neck, your eyes race between his. You have never felt your heart race that much before
“Stop that", he chokes out, closing his fingers around your wrists to pull your hands away. 
You fight his hold, reaching for his face again. He moves away, pulling your hands from his face. 
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, eyes filled with nervous anger.
You kiss the corner of his lips, resting your fingers on his cheeks. He turns his head in your direction for a quick second, gazing at your lips with his eyes half-lidded. Another kiss. It flusters him, making him turn away again.
“Truly, you don’t want this. I'm not a good lover, my hands are rough from fighting and my f-face and body are covered in scars. I'm too ugly for you."
"No you’re not Sire."
"Ha", he lowers his eyes, "yes I am. The court would agree." 
"They’re fools."
"No. You –“
You silence him with a kiss, short and hesitant. He pulls away in an instance, laughing nervously. You give him a smile and draw closer, cupping his cheek and pulling his waist snuck against yours with a strong arm. 
"Ha", he lets out, squirming in your hold and looking at where your body touches his.
You lower your head, claiming his lips in a kiss again. It forces him to lift his head and to close his eyes for you were not intending to stop. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more, sucking on his lower lip until he can’t help but sigh and touch your face. He cups your cheeks with such tenderness that one could believe he was scared to break you. His shoulders are raised to his ears, his legs restless as he squirms in your hold. And still his lips danced with yours, using your sighs and the crackling of the fire as their melodies.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when he tried to pull away you chased him and kissed him deeper until the tip of your tongue was outlining his lips.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when his lips parted and his tongue met yours in the middle, a sound of pleasure slipped past your lips and your fingers reached up to open his hair.
It falls in soft waves, framing his face and twisting between your fingers as you run them through his locks. He shudders at the sensation.
Perhaps you truly lost your mind for when he did the same to you and opened your hair to hold it between his fingers, it drove you on top of his lap until your stomach was pressed against his and you felt his chest trembling in a deep sigh.
Perhaps however you didn’t lose your mind and experiencing the feeling of finally being kissed back made you so addicted to the sensation that you became greedy. And perhaps it made you just that greedier because it was Yoongi you were kissing and he truly had the best lips to kiss.
Yoongi runs his fingers down your spine, dancing them up your back in soft swirls. He cups your face, fingers resting on the sides of your neck. They felt warm on your skin, carrying a sheer layer of sweat on the tips. You know that he was nervous. You were nervous too, you noticed it in the way your fingertips trembled as you ran them along his collarbones and shoulders.
You don’t like Yoongi. You told that to all your friends, your family and you were sure your servants knew as well. You thought it to be true and that it would always stay true, but now as if magic changed your heart you like him. It was scaring you so much that your stomach twisted when he showed the first indicator of enjoyment in the form of a trembling mewl against your lips. Perhaps however your stomach also twisted because you never heard such a sound before and it made you feel warm between your legs.
You break the kiss, resting your forehead against that of Yoongi. You keep your eyes closed, so does Yoongi. His shaking breath is tickling your cheek, intermingling with yours. You touch his cheek, running your thumb over his scar softly. It makes him sigh and his fingers twitch in a gentle grasp.
“I feel there is no going back from here”, you whisper.
“No, there isn’t”, he answers you, tilting his head up to run his lips along your cheek until you turn to claim them in a kiss instead.
He trembles in surprise, pressing his legs together. The movement makes you scoot up his lap and press your core against his crotch.
You and him break the kiss at the same time, both gasping in shock because of what you found.
“Is that how this feels?” you ask, sneaking a glance down his body.
“So it seems”, he murmurs, hiding it behind his big hand.
“Why are you hiding it?”
Your eyes meet.
“Because you are married and my princess.”
You shake your head, “I’m not married anymore, you made sure that I was free of that burden.”
You touch his chest.
“It is so exciting to be the reason a man hardens”, you confess and run your hands down his stomach, “can you show it to me?" 
He hesitates. 
With a nervous sigh slipping past his lips he removes his hand, revealing the prominent dent in his pants to your eyes. 
"That looks so exciting", you whisper, rolling your hips over his thigh at the view, "ah, it makes me feel so warm between my legs." 
Yoongi swallows heavily, "I-I can feel that." 
You look up, cupping his face between your hands.
"Can you show me how it feels to be intimate, Sire?” 
Yoongi blinks rapidly. He shakes his head, “I, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Oh?” you blink vigorously.
He lowers his eyes.
“Well, then do you want to find out about it together?”
Yoongi falters in his answer. You speed up his decision by placing your pointer finger on the swell in his pants and stroking it softly. He bites down on his lower lip, inhaling loudly through his nose and furrowing his brows.
“Your Highness, we’re not of the same rank”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. His hand is fighting your touch and yet at the same time it is pulling you closer. He has duties to fulfil and yet deep down his desire to follow them was lost the moment you kissed his neck.
“I don’t care, that is the great thing about being the princess, I can choose who I want to court.”
“And you choose me?”
“Because I like you, Sire.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He releases it in a surprised grunt as he feels your lips against his neck all of a sudden. You are holding his hair away, playing with it mindlessly as your lips continue their endless dance. You can feel his vein twitch as his heart skips a beat and for the first time tonight you are making a sound as well. It feels more exciting than you had imagined it to feel.
"Please Sire, I want to experience it with you", you plead, cupping his hardened length and rubbing it slowly. 
He grunts and trembles, big hands landing on your hips. He stands up with you then, carrying you to the fire to place you on top of the fur. You look at him. His golden hair is hanging into his face, falling on each side of your head and shielding you from everything except his features.
You reach up and trace his scar again. He closes his eyes and parts his lips in a shaky exhale.
Yoongi remembers many occasions where you touched his scar and yet he never felt such comfort from it as he does tonight. There was no disgust in your touch, no anger or coldness. Just tenderness and a certain awe, which left his chest feeling light. It also made it tingle as if fire fairies were fluttering inside of it.
He leans down and places a kiss on your neck in the same way you kissed his’. You shiver, picking up a big bundle of his hair. It tickles your skin, following Yoongi’s movements as he kisses along your neck to reach the other side.
You sigh his name and close your eyes, parting your legs for your middle burned unbearably. It allows his body to draw closer and for his hips to rest against yours. You can feel how hard he was, it rubs against your core and soaks your pants in your wetness. 
Kissing your neck comes so natural to him. He never did what his fellow soldiers did with their women. He didn’t even read about it, let alone talk about it to other people and yet in this moment he felt that kissing your neck was the only right thing to do. Not only for you, but also for him. Oh how many times he fantasized about wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing until you finally drew your last breath. Oh how many times he wished for you to slip on the stairs and break it in your fall. Those desires sound like those of a cruel madman in his mind now. He doesn’t want to destroy such a delicate neck anymore, not when he can worship it in kisses instead.
“Oh”, you let out and try to breathe only to end up choking on your air and having to laugh.
Yoongi lifts his head, looking at you in confusion.
“You made me choke on my own air”, you confess and laugh, “oh this feels so good. Do it again."
Yoongi licks over his lips and lowers himself again. He may know nothing about the intimacies between man and woman, but he knows that kissing your neck made you shiver beneath him. He knows that this was a good sign and so he continues what he is good at in fear that if he did something new you wouldn’t enjoy it.
You abandon his hair to touch his arms instead. They are tense in the position, holding up his body with little struggle. You run them along the ridges of his muscles until you abandon them for the sake of feeling his torso instead. First his neck, you run your fingers along the soft curve of where his neck meets his shoulders then dance them to the nape of it to play with the fine hair on it. For only a second you allowed your fingers to linger then it was already time for them to explore a new inch of his body. The movement made the strings of his tunic open at the front, revealing his heated chest to your fingertips.
He squirms above you, losing his way and kissing your collarbones instead of your neck. You sigh, slipping your hand into his tunic to caress his pecs. They were sculpted from the heavy fighting he had to do in his years as your warrior for the Glass Mountains with its Ruby Valleys and Emerald Lakes were always a conflict ridden country. It became worse with the arrival of Morrok the madman and Yoongi and his warriors spent many months away from the castle, ridding the land of his followers and keeping the peace for as best as possible.
You hope – as you run your fingers along every single scar – that you have enough magic in your fingertips to heal the memories they bear with them. After weeks and weeks of hunger, thirst and frozen limbs you know exactly the pains and discomforts he must have endured on his journeys.
You brush your fingers over his nipple, making him snap up in a shudder of his body and a shaky gasp. His eyes are widened, blinking rapidly. Your fingers rest frozen on his chest, allowing your warmth to soak even the deepest parts of his body.
“What?” you ask him.
“What did you just do?”
You repeat what you had done, watching how it makes his lips part in a silent moan. They close again a second later, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet them. Oh how rosy his lips are and how pretty they glisten in the shine of the fire.
You do it again. Feeling his nipple pebble and his chest rumble in a barely there moan. He exhales shakily, corners of his mouth curling upwards.
“What?” you stress, “why are you reacting like that?”
Yoongi moves without words. He opens the strings of your tunic and slips his hand inside. Your eyes widen. On the ceiling of the cave the flames make sceneries of dancing shadows appear and yet all you can truly take in is Yoongi slipping the tunic to the side, cupping your breast and then wrapping his lips around your nipple.
“Sire!” you gasp, fighting for air with your lips opening and closing repeatedly.
Such warmth. It seeps into your skin until it reaches your heart. You tremble as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your swollen pebble just this moment. You laugh and tug on his hair. He releases you with a quiet bop of his lips, flitting his eyes up in a silent question as to why you stopped him.
The truth was that the sensation scared you. It felt too good and you feared that if he continued you would lose control over your body.
“Did I go too far?” he asks with his voice slightly raspy in arousal.
You nod your head, “I fear that if you continue I might lose control over my body. I heard that it will subside again once you reach your high, but what if I am different and I will never be normal again?”
Yoongi scoffs, flustering you.
“Why are you laughing? What if you will never be normal either?”
“I stopped being normal the moment you kissed my neck, Your Highness, I’m not scared of losing myself.”
You lower your eyes, “now you are making me seem like such a coward.”
He chuckles softly, lowering his head to your chest. He darts his tongue out and flicks it over your nipple.
“Oh”, you gasp, widening your eyes for only a second before closing them. One more flick of his tongue and you let go of his hair to hold his shoulders instead. Perhaps you need to be braver. You survived being beaten and tied up in the cold, you survived having to walk for days without water or food let alone sleep. You will survive the unbearable heat of Yoongi’s touch as well, including all the consequences it bears.
Yoongi kisses the skin next to your nipple then follows the path his pointer finger paints until he is on your neck again. You shiver, hugging him closer so you could feel his naked chest press against your exposed breasts. You didn’t even know that another person’s skin can feel so good against your own.
“Yoongi”, you sigh.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Yoongi whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“I want to know how it feels to be breached.”
“Are you sure Your Highness?”
“Yes. Do you want to give me your innocence too?”
He looks into your eyes and then something happens to his face you thought would never happen to his face. The ivory of his cheeks turns the softest red. It spreads all across his nose as well.
“Yes, Your Highness”, he confesses, making your heart skip a beat in your chest.
So you and him undress messily, hiding under the fur not only to keep the cold out but also because it was too scary to share your state of complete nudity with each other.
Yoongi claims the spot between your legs, breathing heavily for his heart was almost giving up on him in excitement. While he never read about the intimacies between a man and a woman let alone talked to somebody about it, his mind still spent many hours imagining how it must feel like. And while a few weeks ago he never imagined to experience it with his princess, that image had changed ever since he snuck one fateful glance at your bared body as you bathed in the river.
Your eyes meet in a hesitant gaze.
“Are you just as excited as I am?” you ask him.
He nods his head.
“It will feel really good, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Come closer and breach me, Sire”, you stress, grasping his hips and rolling your own up to meet his middle.
He shivers at the sensation, bucking his hips forwards.
He stops, eyes widening in surprise. He slipped inside, only an inch, yet it is enough to make his back tense and his legs shake.
“More”, you sigh, forcing him deeper by wrapping your legs around him.
Yoongi grunts and buries his face in the crook of your neck. This is better than he imagined it to feel. This is so much better.
“It burns a little. Does it burn for you too?” you ask him slightly out of breath.
He shakes his head.
“How peculiar, it feels so peculiar.”
Yoongi is fighting with his air. He truly didn’t think it would feel so good.
“Try to move”, you order him.
He moves his hips back and forth, forcing a loud moan to slip past his lips. He falters and stops, face feeling as if it was on fire.
“I apologize”, he whispers.
Oh your stomach is clenching so much. You have never heard him make a sound before. Yoongi can take every beating and torture life throws at him without making a sound and yet when he is buried inside of you, lost in pleasure, he can’t stay quiet. It is so exhilarating to experience.
“No, don't apologize. Hearing your sound made me wetter. Do it again Sire”, you encourage him. You run your fingers to his bottom and squeeze it gently, “move inside of me and make a sound, it feels so good when you do.”
Yoongi rolls his hips into yours smoothly and moans. You arch your back and wrap your arms around him.
“Yes, oh that feels so good”, you sigh and reward him with a clench of your walls.
He continues his slow movements, pausing in between to catch his breath. His stomach is tensing in such peculiar ways and while it tempted him to keep moving to see where this tension would lead him, he was scared that if he did he would reach places where there is no coming back from. So he pauses in between to leave sloppy kisses on your neck and gain back control of his body.
“Yes that feels really good, oh Sire this is so nice”, you praise him in soft moans, running your fingers through his long hair. It tickles your shoulders and parts of your face and short strands of it were sticking to his forehead as it became terribly hot under the fur. And while you felt pearls of sweat run down your own chest, you still hugged him closer with your other arm, making him lower himself until your breasts were brushing against his chest.
The new closeness makes his lower stomach rub against your core. It sends the most peculiar yet magical sensation through your veins. Warmth. Such incredible warmth.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, curling your toes and pressing your heels into the back of his thighs.
“Yes, Your Highness?” he asks, panting heavily afterwards.
“This feels better than good”, you confess and squeak softly. Your fingers twitch on his back until your nails are digging into his skin.
He grunts and sucks on your neck desperately. He rolls his hips into you, feeling you grind against him. You are so wet around him and so warm too. And oh so tight, he didn’t know that he could be squeezed that much. 
You pull him closer, burying your fingers in his hair. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Oh my s-stomach is tensing”, you pause to gasp for air, “Sire, Sire I’m close.”
“Me too Your Highness”, he answers you and moans against the shell of your ear. It sends shivers all the way down to your toes. The shivers lingered in your middle for a while, making you squeeze around him.
Yoongi grunts and reaches for your hand. He presses it into the fur and squeezes it tightly.
“Don’t tense that much”, he chokes out, grinding his teeth.
“I, I can’t help – “, a gasp for air, “– help it.”
You squeeze his hand, Yoongi answers you by squeezing it as well. So tightly in fact that you fear he might break something.
“Your Highness, please relax”, he begs desperately.
“I…can’t…it’s…so…good”, you sigh and let your mouth fall open. A moan ripples through you then you grow silent as the tension on your stomach breaks in a second, leaving you to tremble and burn like you had never done before.
Yoongi grunts painfully and falters, hiding his face in your shoulder. You are squeezing him too much, he is too sensitive.
“Your Highness”, he chokes out shakily, feeling his mind become blank and his vision turn black as his body releases all the tension in a series of uncontrollable spasms.
You take his release with your eyes rolled back and your eyelids fluttering, basking in the sensations. So that is how it feels like when a man desires your body so much that an orgasm shakes him. It feels so exhilarating that a single tear of bliss escapes the corner of your eye and runs down your cheek.
Yoongi whimpers and shakes one last time, forcing a trembling breath past his lips. The pressure on your hand stops as he finally relaxes, a pressure on your chest replaces it as he collapses on top of you.
You close your eyes and relax under the weight of his body. You feel so warm again. After weeks and weeks of painful cold, you finally feel truly warm again.
“This was magical”, you whisper.
“Yes”, he agrees and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Please Yoongi, call me by my name.”
Yoongi lifts his head. He cups your cheek.
“___, it feels strange to say out loud”, he whispers and smiles, showing you the shape of his teeth for the first time ever since you knew him.
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1K notes · View notes
minyfic · 4 months ago
not around - MYG | M
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↣ Min Yoongi, one of your closest friends, the popular guy, funny and charming, captain of the basketball team, aspiring rapper and producer, incredibly handsome and your crush for a long time, ALSO your best friend’s (head cheerleader) new boyfriend. Trouble begins.
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pairing: basketball player!yoongi x cheerleader!reader
based on this request.
genre: angst, fluff, smut, f2l
word count: 19.8K (when I write Yoongi I can’t stop)
play: not around by nova
warnings/tags: college au, heavy angst, Yoongi is so sweet, kind and oblivious, strong language, insecurities about body image, Y/N overthinks, Y/N's best friend is mean but Y/N turns into a ~savage~, mentions of infidelity, mentions of bullying, Y/N and her mum lowkey gossip, Y/N has big 🍒, Yoongi has a breast kink, 171229 Yoongi oof, slight Hobi action, explicit smut- slight public action, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, oral (f & m), titty fuck, brief handjob, spitting, riding, hickeys, protected sex
a/n: pleaseee listen to that song when they’re playing basketball together (if you remember). I cry each time I listen to it, it reminds me of Yoongi somehow.
Waving your pom poms in the air, you watch Yoongi dash along the side of the court, with a flick of his wrist, the crowd goes wild.
Suhee begins to chant Yoongi’s name, you and the squad join in. Yoongi waves at the crowd then winks in your direction, maybe you could pretend, that it was directed at you but Suhee’s squeal pierces straight through that thought.
“Love you, babe!”
She shouts over the jubilant whoops of the crowd, then gestures for everyone to begin the routine for the last time tonight, you sway your hips along with everyone else. It isn’t a surprise that your college has made it to the semi-finals, thanks to their captain, Min Yoongi.
The crowd chants along, his shy gummy smile makes your heart soar as he continues to wave and thank the audience.
The ruckus dies down, the team and your squad walk back inside the building to shower. You brush past Suhee and Yoongi who start to make out as soon as you’re inside, it doesn’t bother you anymore, you’ve gotten used to it, but the pit of your stomach does twist a bit at the sight.
You grab your black jacket from the bench and put it on, the skimpy black and gold outfit exposing your body to the cool air from the AC above you, goosebumps prickling your skin. Walking down the hallway, you feel someone sling their arm around your shoulder, her sweet scent surrounding you.
“Coming to the party tonight? Hoseok will be there~,” she pinches your shoulder, but you shrug her off and stuff your hands in your jacket pocket.
“I’m not in the mood tonight, Suhee.”
“Ah come on, you’re always such a grump.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m not a grump, I just have my priorities straight. I need the sleep for Monday’s test.”
“You can get all the sleep you need on Sunday night. It’s a Friday! Don’t be so fucking boring!”
“Yeah, Y/N,” Yoongi sidles up to Suhee’s other side, she wraps her arms around his torso as he kisses her forehead, you avert your gaze to the shiny floors and tighten your grip on your bag, “come have fun.”
You clear your throat, “I have a test on Monday.”
“And you say you aren’t boring…” she nudges Yoongi with her elbow and you swallow the lump forming in your throat when they both snigger.
“I’ll come, but I didn’t pack an outfit.”
“That’s okay, I’d rather you wear this skirt than those horrible flair pants.”
“Hey,” you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, eyes flickering to Yoongi who stares straight ahead, “we have different tastes you know.”
She rolls her eyes, “you mean bad taste,” you open your mouth to protest but she cuts you off, “come to the party, you can be DD,” she gives Yoongi the most seductive wink she can manage, “Yoongi’s coming over tonight and we’re gonna have fun.”
You whip your head to stare at them, “you’re coming over after the party?”
“Ugh of course, Y/N,” Suhee runs her palm down Yoongi’s chest, “Yoongi needs his prize after he played so well tonight.”
Resisting the urge to gag, you walk a little faster away from them, “okay”
That could only mean one thing.
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You regret ever agreeing to come to this shitty party. You’re sat in a corner, you have no choice because Suhee continues to nudge and shove you with her body as she climbs on Yoongi like he’s some sort of jungle gym, while you hold your cup filled with juice, because that’s all they had other than alcohol and you’re DD, as per usual.
Suhee moans and you sit up from the couch abruptly, walking to the kitchen because that’s the only place you can actually go to, you’re sure to walk in on a couple going at it if you dare to enter one of the rooms in this house of sin.
As you stand at the table filled with drinks, you shut your eyes and try to drown out the noise.
How did you even end up here?
You’d have to start from the beginning to answer that question.
Ahn Suhee, your best friend since preschool. Your mothers were friends, so naturally, you would hang out and play together while they gossiped and complained about their lives. It was fun, you remember, you were like the PowerPuff Girls, except you had missed a member so your cat, MiMi, took the role of the Buttercup.
She was Blossom and you were Bubbles, their characters fit your personalities even as you grew up.
Suhee, being the leader and always knowing what to do, where to play, all the new toys that you needed to nag your parents to buy for you because she got whatever she wanted with the snap of her fingers. You weren’t so lucky, your parents were working class people while hers were a pair of franchise owners.
She was kind and sweet, she would always share her toys with you, always made you feel included.
But as you grew up and got to high school, she evolved, while you were still ‘Bubbles’. Sensitive, easily taken advantage of and bullied. She had even abandoned you at one stage and joined a group of girls who were part of the reason why you had begged your mother not to send you to school. They had made the rest of your schooling career a misery. Your parents, being heavily involved in your academics had contacted the school when they noticed that your grades were dropping. And that drew attention to the fact that you were being bullied, because obviously, teachers don’t pay attention until you point something out.
Your mother was furious. She contacted Suhee’s mother, and everything was solved between the two of you. She had apologized and you were glad that you had your friend back.
“You don’t go to school for friends.”
“Focus on your academics and everything will fall into place.”
“You need to go to college and get a better job than me.”
You had listened to your parents, because you wanted a better life for yourself and them too. You wanted to make them proud.
So, you did just that, spending night after night studying for finals, securing your place in college and pretended not to care about your social life. You had no time to focus on anything else. Suhee had introduced you to the group of girls, they were…nice, but you didn’t miss their sniggering and light giggles behind your back.
You didn’t care, because it didn’t matter. But it did hurt.
Then, puberty hit. Hormones all over the place.
Kim Taehyung, fellow nerd who sat behind you in physics, handsome and funny. You wanted him to ask you to prom, and your hopes were up because he started hanging out with you and Suhee, talking to you frequently in class.
It was going to happen, you were excited. Going to prom with the most charming guy in your grade?
Until one day, while you were sitting next to Suhee at the lunch table, he had asked her instead, and she said yes without a second thought. Despite knowing that you had a crush on him. You didn’t think much of it. It hurt like a bitch to see them at prom together, but they suited each other. They were crowned Prom King and Queen and Best Dressed. She lost her virginity that same night.
You attended prom with your other fellow nerd, Kim Namjoon.
You admit that you were a little guarded after that, you had kept your secrets to yourself. There were occasions where you wanted to spill everything to your best friend. But you bottled it all up. Until one night, after ages, you had a girls’ night in. You sang like a bird, telling her everything you felt. Your new crush and friend, Park Jimin, the dancer that just moved in across your house.
Fickle, you were fickle.
It was the summer after graduation, and you were chilling outside your house, enjoying ice lollies, when you noticed that Suhee was laying down on the grass near the driveway, you used to do that when you were kids, so you joined her. Obviously.
She had taken off her jacket and was wearing a crop top with shorts. You were wearing a short summer dress when she had pointed something out, something that you didn’t even acknowledge yourself.
“Damn, them boobies are really coming in huh. Don’t let them get too big or you’ll just look chubby.”
That didn’t make sense to you or your mother when you had repeated her words later that evening.
Let’s just say, every insecurity you have up to this day, was created by her. Your best friend.
That night, mentioning that they’ve been chatting on Twitter for the past two weeks, she ditched you to visit Jiminie. She came over for breakfast the next morning with a massive purple bruise on her neck.
That was that, you learned your lesson.
You got to college and her parents had set you up with an apartment that you both could share. She couldn’t wait to party and meet all the hot guys there. Every second night, there would be a different guy in her bed, each one with the sense of humor similar to a celery stick.
She dragged you to a few parties and you ended up losing your virginity to a final year student named Kim Seokjin, he was hilarious and gentle, from what you can remember. You still chat to him now and again but he’s too busy in the working world.
Your first year at college was fun, both you and Suhee had joined the cheer squad. She had submitted a few routines and ended up becoming head cheerleader. She was good at her thing.
Then, like a warm blanket on a cold Winter’s day, draped across your figure, tucking you in. You had seen Min Yoongi, he had mint-colored hair back then, cat-like eyes focused as he ran across the court. You hardly heard him talk when the coach would discuss tactics with the team, you were there, practicing Suhee’s choreography.
You had been sitting on the bench, fixing your laces when he sat down next to you. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You were shy, you obviously didn’t have the guts to make conversation. But he spoke and everything just flowed from then on, he was as soft as his features, kind as he talked. You never would’ve guessed that he was friendly, and comical, his stoic exterior set an impression as you watched him before, but a friendship was formed.
One introvert to another.
Weak, you were weak.
Actually, you didn’t learn your lesson at all.
You had spilled all the information a few weeks ago. You would’ve given yourself a pat on the back for keeping it in for two years if you weren’t so angry.
You spoke about your crush to Suhee, and she was shocked because you guys were just friends. She had seen you talk to him on the court. The first game of the season was that night, and she had butted in on your conversation after the game. You refused to believe it when her flirt mode was activated, and, Yoongi, knowing that she was the leader of the squad, and how popular she was with the guys, had asked her out. And you lived up to your name of being her shadow.
You cried that night, because once again, they suited each other, the captain of the basketball team and the head cheerleader.
And here you are, gaze fixed on the way Yoongi grabs her chest with his veiny hand. Disgust rising in your throat. What if that were you?
You kick out that thought as fast as it entered your mind. Yoongi would never see you as anything beyond his friend, his girlfriend’s best friend. Always the third wheel.
Jungkook, one of the guys from your calculus class, potential nerd if he didn’t party so much, grabs your hand, and pulls you in for a hug. His strong chest pressing into yours.
“Nice to see you out for once,” his breath is thick with alcohol, his words slurred as they leave his mouth.
You nod and fold your arms across your chest, he leans in close, his breath tickling your ear.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Code for: wanna fuck in my car.
You place your palm on his chest and push him away, his smirk still in place. He has been trying to fuck you for the past three months now. He’s incredibly hot, one of the hottest guys on campus, but you wouldn’t, because he fucked Suhee and every person in this vicinity.
“No thanks.”
“Come on, don’t be boring.”
There it is, that word, boring. It seems to have replaced your first name.
Jungkook is yanked out of your sight, a smile graces your features when you see who makes his way toward you.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and dances a bit with you in his hold, “Y/N, how are you?”
You chuckle and break out of his hold, a strand of your hair getting caught on your chapstick, he lifts a finger to pull it away.
“I’m good. You?”
“Great game tonight!”
He smiles, the apples of his cheeks prominent, “thank you and great moves tonight!”
You’re forced to yell over the music, “we follow a routine!”
He snorts, “I know, you do them the best!”
Your cheeks heat, Hoseok is sweet. If only he was your type.
“Well well well,” Suhee walks into the kitchen with Yoongi’s hand clasped in hers, “it’s the lovebirds.”
Suhee has been trying to set you and Hoseok up, just because he’s Yoongi’s best friend. She said it would be fun to go on double dates. You had told her multiple times, that he’s just your friend and you don’t see him romantically. She insists that he likes you and that you should seize the opportunity. You’re not the type of person to date someone for the sake of it, you’re also not the type of person to lead someone on. She kept repeating that you should just hook up with him if you didn’t want to date him, but you know, if she isn’t lying about the fact that he has feelings for you, then the sex would mean more to him.
“Can I get you a drink?” Hoseok looks into your cup.
“No thanks,” you smile, “I’m DD.”
“Again?! You hardly leave the house and you’re DD.”
You shrug and he spins around to look at Yoongi, whose eyes are half-lidded, lopsided smile on his face. You can tell that both he and Suhee are drunk.
“You guys need to get your shit together,” Hoseok scolds, “let her have some fun.”
“Oh please,” Suhee cackles, “she doesn’t know how to have fun. Besides,”
She places her hand on the back of your head and pushes yours and Hoseok’s faces together.
“You two need to kiss already!”
“Suhee!” Adjusting your jacket in embarrassment, you grip her wrist and drag her out of the house, “time to get you home. Bye Hobi!”
“Need help getting them in the car?” He shouts to your retreating figure, but you wave him off, telling him that you’ll be fine.
The only thing you hear during the drive home is giggling and the sloppy sounds of lips on lips. You glance at the rear-view mirror to see Suhee with her hands in Yoongi’s blonde hair, his tongue down her throat. You focus on the road and with a few more agonizing minutes, you make it to your apartment with them stumbling behind you.
They don’t even take off their shoes as they run into Suhee’s room, you sigh and walk into the kitchen. Preparing a peanut butter sandwich for yourself.
Suhee’s moans begin, the sound echoing in the apartment as you get ready for bed. You cover your head with your blanket to block out her sounds, but the walls are thin and she’s being particularly loud tonight. You can hear the slaps of skin on skin but not a peep from Yoongi, he’s always quiet when they have sex.
As her moans get higher in pitch, you listen, listen closely, attempting to keep her sounds out of your head to hear that one particular groan. Deep and raspy, you imagine that’s when he cums, his long fingers gripping her body as he spills into the condom, body dripping with sweat.
Opening your eyes, wanting to kick yourself for thinking about them having sex, you turn the pillow over and fluff it up. You don’t really blame yourself, the only barrier is a white wall.
They’re quiet now, but your mind isn’t. It hurts to watch someone you developed feelings for love someone else, someone that is also close to your heart. A tear rolls down the side of your cheek.
Tired, you were tired.
Despite being aware of Suhee’s ways, you still empty your thoughts to her. You could call her your sister, you’ve known each other since you were five years old. You have this weird attachment to her, and she knows exactly how to get you to talk. You don’t realize you’re falling into her trap until it’s too late.
Suhee was there for you when MiMi died, you celebrated almost every birthday together, she calmed you down when you were panicking because you had gotten your period while you were on holiday together, she was there for you, just like you were there for her. But she has her bad habits, her flaws that she doesn’t consider an issue because the only person it affects is you.
You’re left with an even bigger chasm each time.
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The next morning, you walk to the kitchen, having already showered and done your skin care routine, you see Yoongi sitting at the kitchen table.
Adjusting your short, you make your way to the cupboard in the kitchen, “good morning.”
God, his fucking morning voice? You feel a shiver run down the length of your spine. Fingers twitching to run your hands through his soft blond strands.
Get it together.
“How did you sleep?”
“Does it matter? I have a fucking hangover,” he chuckles, “and I have practice in ten minutes.”
You also have practice in ten minutes. His long fingers curl around the mug, and as always, your throat goes dry when you catch sight of the veins that branches up to his arm. You take a deep breath and sit opposite him as you peel your banana. His eye flicker to the yellow fruit then back to your face.
Taking a bite, you try to sound nonchalant, “I have practice in ten minutes too, I can give you a ride.”
Your lips hover over the fruit as he answers, “thanks…”
Peeling back a strand from the flesh, you stare at it as you chew.
“Would you just eat the damn thing? You’re making me nervous!”
You splutter, looking at the harmless fruit in your hand then back at him, “how am I making you nervous?!”
“I don’t know?! It looks like a dick!”
Choking, you cover your hand with your mouth, your heart quickens its pace. You made him nervous by eating a banana…because it looks like a dick?
“That is rude, Min Yoongi. A woman should be allowed to eat a banana whenever she wants.”
Biting off another piece, you see his eyes watch your movement, your palms feeling a little sweaty.
“I’m sorry, okay. I just- have a dirty mind and it doesn’t help that it’s a phallic shaped fruit!”
Your words die on your tongue when Suhee walks into the kitchen and buries her face in Yoongi’s neck.
He rubs her arm, “good morning baby.”
You stand up to toss the banana peel in the trash, then place your hands on your hips when you notice that Suhee hasn’t showered yet and you have practice in less than ten minutes.
“We have practice in five minutes, Suhee.”
She groans, and rubs her temples, “I might be a bit late, is that fine? You can take over for me, just for a bit.”
Yoongi stands up from the table to wash his mug while she’s still latched onto him.
“I’m gonna catch a ride with Y/N.”
She looks at you, then back at him, then shrugs, “okay, see you guys later,” with a peck on his lips, she trots down the hallway and into her room.
Grabbing your keys and bag from the lounge, you wait for Yoongi as he ties his laces, your heart skipping a beat when he stands up to his full height and puffs out his chest.
“Let’s go.”
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Yoongi hums along to the song on the radio, you’re trying to focus on the road and not his toned thighs that peek out of his shorts. You’ve given Yoongi a ride before, but never without Suhee, this is the first. You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you begin to sing under your breath too. From the corner of your eye, you see him whip his head to look at you as you continue, head bobbing with the beat.
“You like this song?”
You nod, “yeah.”
He smiles, “me too. I listen to hip hop mostly, sometimes R&B,” he looks down at his fingers, “Suhee doesn’t like R&B.”
Chuckling, your eyes scan the parking lot, “I know. She hates it. I love it.”
He points to an empty space on your right, “thanks. Do you listen to hip hop?”
You begin to reverse in the parking space, “hmm, not all the time but I do have a few tracks on my playlist.”
“Ah I see. It’s so funny, you and Suhee are best friends, but you’re like the complete opposite,” his shoulders shake as he laughs, you turn your head to look at him at his statement.
The complete opposite?
He unclicks his seatbelt, “I mean, you have different tastes in music, in dressing, even in food. You like meat but she doesn’t, right?”
You nod, unable to speak as he continues to compare the two of you.
“She likes to party, you don’t. You’re like a ner- I mean, studious but she isn’t.”
Gripping the wheel a little tighter, you try to keep your voice stable as you speak, “so? I’m my own person. Just because we’re best friends, doesn’t mean we have to be each other’s carbon copy.”
“I know, I know,” he turns his body to look at you fully, “how did you two become best friends anyway? Just curious.”
She didn’t tell him. Of course, she wouldn’t. It isn’t important to discuss your best friend with your boyfriend.
Clearing your throat, you keep your eyes on the field in front of you to avoid meeting his gaze that seems so attentive, “our mothers were friends, so we like, know each other since preschool.”
“Really? Wow,” he pulls a strap on his bag, “she didn’t tell me that.”
You unclick your seatbelt and open the door, but he keeps talking, “must be fun to be friends with someone like her for such a long time.”
Yeah. Fun.
“Should I give you a ride home after?”
It seems like you broke into his thoughts because he takes a minute to answer, “uhm, I’ll let you know.”
He opens his door and jogs off to the court while shouting ‘see you later’ over his shoulder.
That conversation had effectively dampened your mood. The complete opposite? What did he mean by that? She’s attractive, you aren’t? She’s interesting and fun, you aren’t? He described being friends with her as fun, if anything, being friends with someone like Suhee is tiring. And the conversation you just had with him proves it.
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Practice ends and Suhee didn’t show up. It isn’t like her to abandon her squad, unless she was really suffering, after partying so hard last night. She looked fine this morning. You try to call her, but she doesn’t answer her phone.
“Hey, Y/N,” Naya runs up to you, her ponytail swinging behind her.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Just came over to tell you what a good job you did today,” you feel your cheeks flush, “you’re so strategic and like,” she searches for the word with a finger on her chin, “calm, with us.”
Giggling, you wrap your arms around her shoulders, “thank you, but I don’t think anyone could take Suhee’s place as head cheer.”
She pats your back, “the squad and I think you can. I mean, if Suhee were to ditch us, we won’t even worry.”
A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you pack your bag, the sun dipping beneath the horizon, “she can be a bit…strict.”
“Overly strict if you ask me. Anyway,” she gives you another hug, “I’ll see you on Monday, enjoy the rest of your weekend!”
Suhee might be your best friend, but you do admit that she can be a bitch sometimes. Not only to you but especially to girls you know she thinks might be a threat. Her nasty attitude toward them worsens when her superiority is challenged, the rest of the squad can’t even express their opinions without an eyeroll from her. But you try to find a common ground if an issue arises.
You hold up your hand to block the sunlight as you scan the court, seeing a lone figure bouncing the basketball before shooting. Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you make your way to him, admiring his silhouette from behind.
“Hey,” you call out to him, he turns around and smiles at you, “need a ride?”
The ball hits the ground once before you catch it in your palms, looking up to be met with a mischievous grin.
“Wanna play?”
You match his grin, “sure.”
Bending your knees, you bounce the ball behind your back and catch it in your other hand, before moving around him. His eyebrows raise in amusement, his mouth forming an ‘o’.
“Ooooh, someone’s got moves,” he crab-walks in your direction.
You giggle, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Gaze fixated on the hoop, ball bouncing in your left hand as you run in its direction. Bending your knees as far as it can go, you catch the ball in both your hands and spring up to dunk it, when two hands grip your waist and pull you down, you yelp as the ball leaves your hands and misses the basket, bouncing away dimly.
You spin around and bang your fist on Yoongi’s chest, “that was a violation!”
His eyes crinkle with mirth, “I know, but you looked so focused and cute. I couldn’t resist.”
You swallow, chest heaving. Cute?
He walks to the ball that now bounces weakly off the ground then thrusts it in your direction, “free-throw.”
Wordlessly making your way to the foul line, you bounce the ball twice before holding in your palms, squinting as you bend your knees.
You feel him come up behind you and touch the backs of your knees which almost buckles at the contact.
“Bend these a little more,” he speaks directly into your ear, you can feel the blood rush to your head.
Ignoring the way he still hovers behind you, the ball leaves your hold with a strong throw, it hits the backboard and goes straight through the basket.
You throw your arms up in the air and twirl around to see Yoongi with his gummy smile lighting up his face.
“Okay,” he walks over to the ball again and dribbles, “defend.”
Rushing over to him, the ball still bouncing off the ground, you make grabby hands at him while he spins around, his back hitting your chest, an ‘oof’ sound coming from you.
Arms still flailing around, you try to move around him but his back keeps bumping into your chest, you whine.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes almost half-lidded as he smirks, “what’s wrong, princess?”
Huffing, you press your shoe into his calf.
An evil laugh spills from your lips when you get a hold of the ball and dribble in the direction of the basket.
“Not so fast!”
He places his hands on your hips and spins you around, giggling as he continues to spin in circles. The ball slips from your hands when he finally sets you on the ground but attacks you with tickles.
“Yoongi! Stop!”
Crying out and trying to push his hands away from your sides, you fall backwards while his fingers continue with their assault. Gasps echoing in the empty court, he places his knees on either side of you and moves his hands up to your armpits.
Tears begin to prickle your eyes and he finally relents, his palms placed near your face as his chain dangles over you.
The laughter dies down and you stare up at him, his eyes seem to twinkle in this lighting.
His phone rings and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the position you’re in, he seems to realize too, and he moves off your body while reaching for his phone.
“Hey babe.”
You dust off your skirt and stand up on shaky legs, heart not catching a break as you run to your bag.
Jumping in fright when you hear his voice behind you, you place your palm over your chest.
You catch up to what he said, “oh okay. Do you still need a ride?”
He shakes his head, “nah. I’m meeting Hoseok at the barbecue place a few streets away.”
Nodding, you hold your bag under your arm as you wave at him, he does too, a little awkwardly.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” you smile.
His lips stretch but the corners don’t lift, he wipes the side of his nose with his knuckle, looking down at his shoes, then somewhere behind you.
That night, you hope to dream of a pretty boy who spun you around in the air, like you were the only two people who existed in that moment.
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“Could you drop me off here?”
Your eyebrows furrow, “why? The court is on the other side of campus.”
“Fuck, Y/N.”
Pulling over on the side of the road, you park outside the swim stadium building.
Without even informing you about the plans for today’s cheer practice, she jumps out of the car and blows you a kiss as she runs into the building.
Maybe she’ll be a little late for practice today.
As you’re walking toward the rest of the squad who are already warming up, you wave.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey Y/N.”
“Hey girl.”
“Y/N,” Naya grips your arm as you’re trying your hair into a ponytail, a serious expression on her face, “I need to talk to you.”
She pulls you into a corner away from the rest of the girls who chatter and giggle.
“Where’s Suhee?”
“She’ll be here in a bit she told me to leave her at the-“
“Pools?” She cocks an eyebrow while yours pinch together.
“How did you know?”
She sighs and looks around, making sure that no one can hear what she’s about to say.
“I heard something, I don’t know if it’s true. But I thought I’d tell you…”
You lean in closer to hear her better, palms sweating in suspense.
“Suhee is dating Youngsik from the swim team.”
Stepping away from her, your eyes dart all around her face in disbelief, “Youngsik? She’s with Yoongi!”
Her manicured nails glitter as she curls her hand around your wrist, “yes. She is cheating on Yoongi.”
That can’t be true.
Looking away from Naya, you see Yoongi on the other side of the court, goofing around with Hoseok.
“Look,” your gaze locks with hers, “if you don’t believe me. Go see for yourself. Today after practice. I know that she won’t even turn up today.”
With that, her eyebrow jumps as she walks away from you, a sad smile on her face.
You feel your throat begin to constrict when you notice Yoongi running toward you.
“Hey, Y/N.”
Busying yourself with tying your laces, you mumble a ‘hello.’
“Where’s Suhee?”
Undoing your laces and retying them, you shrug, “don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
He laughs, “you should know where she is. You’re always following her around.”
Whipping your head up to stare at him, his eyes almost shut with how he continues to laugh. And mock.
“I’m not her fucking PA, okay? I said I don’t know where she is,” you grit your teeth, slamming your other shoe on the bench as you begin to tie its laces.
He backs away from you, “geez, okay Y/N.”
You watch him jog over to the center of the court then glancing back at you before he joins the rest of the team.
“You shouldn’t be mad at him,” Naya whispers.
Taking off your jacket and tightening your ponytail, you begin warming up, “I know.”
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Naya raises an eyebrow in your direction as she walks away, one that you know is an ‘I told you so.’
Like she said, Suhee didn’t show up for practice, and you had to take her position yet again. The rest of the squad didn’t seem to mind. But you know that you shouldn’t get comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, you park outside the building and switch off your car.
You hope, desperately, that what Naya had told you earlier was just a rumor. Suhee might’ve had a lot of flings, but she isn’t a cheater. And she’d be stupid to cheat on someone like Yoongi who treats her so well.
Heart pounding in your chest, you walk up the small pathway when a couple sitting on a bench near a large tree catches your attention. You’d recognize that bright pink scrunchie anywhere.
Their backs are facing you as you hide behind a wall, trying extremely hard to figure out if it’s Suhee.
The girl turns her head to look at the boy next to her and your shoulders sag in relief when you see that it isn’t Suhee. Bright pink scrunchies are popular. You’re about to turn away when the sound of giggling urges you to stop and listen. Following the sound, you try to press your foot softly on the ground so as to not alert whoever it is of your presence lest you add another weird name to the list, like ‘stalker’ or ‘perv.’
As you’re walking further behind the building, you jump back when you see a guy pressing a girl in a familiar black and gold skirt against the brick wall. Chewing on the corner of your mouth, you move a little closer and sprint behind a tree.
Catching your breath, you peek over the trunk when you catch sight of Suhee, one leg secured around the guy’s, Youngsik’s waist as she kisses him shamelessly. You can almost hear her moans from where you’re standing.
Jaw touching the grass in shock, you gather yourself and realize that it’s pointless to be watching them like this. When you reach your car, you grip the steering wheel and hold in your screams for when you’re in the privacy of your room.
What the fuck.
How could she?
No matter the type of person she is, you’d never think she would do something like that.
You’re so on edge that your soul almost leaves your body when your phone rings. Cursing when you see that it’s Yoongi calling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you answer the call and put on the fakest smile, despite him not being able to see you.
“Hey, Yoongi!”
“Hey, uh, Y/N.”
“What’s up?”
“Uhm…Are you still on campus?”
You look around, clutching the phone a little tighter, “yeah. Why?”
“Where are you?”
“Library! I’m…at the library. Yeah.”
“Oh, uhm, could you give me a ride?”
With that, you hang up and switch the car on, pulling onto the narrow road as fast as you can as you drive back to the court.
Why are you driving fast?
The quicker you get there, the quicker you’d have to face Yoongi. Shit.
Before you know it, you reach the court to see Yoongi standing on the side of the road.
“Thanks,” he buckles in, and you drive off, keeping your bottom lip secured between your teeth as the image of Youngsik and Suhee keeps flashing in your mind.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Your voice is a little high-pitched. More than usual.
“For what I said earlier about you always being with Suhee. I just meant that-“
“It’s fine. Yoongi.”
You can see him nod in your periphery.
The sun has set, and the sky is shrouded in a dark blue hue, stars dotting the sky as you drive. You’re glad that he chooses to be silent for the rest of the drive, you still need to work through what you just saw.
Your best friend ditching cheerleading practice to canoodle with a guy that is not her boyfriend. You’re ashamed and…heartbroken, you don’t know how to place your thoughts. She seems to be so in love with Yoongi, as he is with her, any person of sound mind would know that he cares for her deeply. One thing you’d never forgive is cheating, she’s shrewd and cruel and-
“Hey, what’s going on there?”
Glancing out his window, you see that there’s a crowd near the lake on your right, beams dancing in the air, loud music reaching your ears.
“Let’s check it out.”
“What?” You step on the gas, so you pass the road that leads down to the lake.
“Come on, Y/N. It looks fun. We could do with some fun.”
Groaning, you turn onto the dirt road, eyes flickering to his face to see him sport his gummy smile as you approach the dancing bodies.
Parking off a safe distance away, you step out of the car and follow him to the edge, your eyes catch on the moon, its reflection on the water makes your breath hitch.
Yoongi waves you over to follow him, the light breeze whipping your hair in front of your face, you tuck it behind you ear as you take each step cautiously.
He sits down near the edge, his knees held up to his chest. You stand near his seated figure, he pats the space next to him. Rolling your eyes, you sit down, rocks poking into your butt. The people around you laugh and chatter, swaying with the music as they enjoy the evening’s serenity.
“It’s beautiful,” he speaks, hands clasped in front of him as he stares up at the moon.
Your heart clenches in your chest at his soft tone, stars twinkling in his eyes as he tilts his head up. Admiring the curve of his jaw, his puckered lips and buttery skin, you look straight ahead when he tilts his head to look at you.
His raspy chuckle catches your attention, “I come here often.”
“Yeah,” he sits back on his palms, his chest puffs out while you hold your knees to yours, “to clear my thoughts.”
Looking back at him, he has a blank expression on his face, his eyes following the flow of the water, he meets your gaze, and you have the desire to tell him everything. He doesn’t deserve to be cheated on when he’s such a good guy. Obviously, you have a crush on him, but even if you didn’t and you found yourself in this situation, you would’ve still had the urge. Because no one deserves to be cheated on, especially someone like him.
“Did Suhee respond to your message?”
Groaning inwardly, you shake your head and divert your attention back to the moon, “I called her, but she didn’t pick up.”
“She didn’t reply to mine,” he sighs, tipping his head back.
“Should I try calling her again?”
He shakes his head, “nah, she’ll reply to me soon.”
Nodding to yourself, you shut your eyes and breathe in the fresh air, the thick smell of wet grass fills your nostrils. Music still playing behind you, your foot taps to the rhythm, letting it drown out your thoughts.
“Do you want to do dance?”
Eyes flying open to look at the boy who has a goofy smile on his face, he gestures with his eyes to the gyrating bodies behind you, wiggling his eyebrows. You shove his shoulder, his body shakes as he laughs.
“You know I don’t like to dance.”
He holds his stomach, “me too, that’s why I asked.”
Laughter bubbling to the surface, you join in, cheeks aching with how hard you’re laughing.
“Don’t you miss those days, like your childhood I mean, running around without a care in the world? I miss it, especially when I come here…I miss my parents.”
You’re still looking at him as he continues.
“They weren’t happy with the choice I made, you know, music. I miss them in times like these. When I’m happy.”
He’s happy right now? Laughing with you? You feel a lump form in your throat.
Chuckling, he shakes his head, “sorry, this lake has a weird effect on me.”
“It’s okay…I miss the person I want to be.”
Clearing your throat, you kick some sand into the water, “I mean, I…have this uninhibited version of myself in my head, for as long as I can remember, but I don’t think I’ll ever be her.”
Silence settles between the two of you, the wind creating ripples on the water. It’s too quiet and you’re about to make a joke out of what you just said when he cuts you off.
“Work on your inhibitions.”
Your eyes flicker back to him, an unfamiliar expression on his face.
“You said you have an ‘uninhibited’ version of yourself, get rid of what’s preventing you from being her.”
His words replay in your head, and you’re thinking of everything that might be holding you back. Your self-image? Your insecurities? Suhee?
“In my opinion,” he nudges your shoulder with his, “I like this version of you.”
He laughs, while your heart drops to your stomach. How can one guy be this sweet?
You giggle and he nudges you again, you realize that he’s this comfortable with you, because you’re his friend.
When it dies down, the reality of the situation hits you. It’s wrong to crush on your best friend’s boyfriend. Clearing your throat, you stand up and dust off your skirt, checking the time on your phone, 7:17PM.
“We should get going.”
He nods, then lifts his arms up in your direction, “pick me up.”
Heart working overtime in your chest, you ignore the tingling feeling you get when you grab his palms, planting your feet on the ground to yank him up, only for him to pull you down even harder. With a cry, you fall flat on his body, hands splayed on his chest.
Hair covering your eyes, you look up at him, his eyes wide, “I’m sorry.”
You realize that your body is pressing down on his and you move your palms from his chest to place them on either side of his shoulders so you can sit up, when his hand comes up to move your hair away from your eyes, gaze locked on yours.
Lump still in your throat, you stand up abruptly and spin around, running back to your car.
Heart beating erratically, you want to bang your head on the window. Why why why is life so cruel to you?
The car door opening makes you snap your eyes open, trying to calm your breathing. When you hear his seatbelt clicking in, you start the car and drive as fast as you can to his apartment.
“Goodnight,” he pulls out his bag from the backseat.
Zooming off into the distance, you don’t even notice the figure watching you as drive off, a frown on his face.
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You unlock the front door, utterly exhausted after today’s events. Why does it suddenly feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?
Kicking off your shoes, you startle when you see Suhee sitting at the kitchen table, yoghurt container in her hands.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Fuck, you scared me.”
She cocks an eyebrow, “saw your reflection probably.”
“Ha ha,” you place your keys on the counter and walk over to her, seeing a sandwich placed on a plate.
“Is that mine?”
“Yep,” she shoves the spoon into her mouth.
She usually makes you food when she-
Oh no.
She wants to talk.
“I think I’ll take this to my room.”
“Nope,” she stares into the half empty container, “you’re gonna eat here. Don’t want to drop any crumbs in your room. Plus, I know you’re hungry.”
Sighing, you pull out the chair and sit next to her, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite.
If your mouth is full, you won’t have to answer, right?
“I always knew you were a voyeur.”
Choking, you bang your fist on your chest and she tsks, walking to the sink to fill a glass with water then places it in front of you.
“You think I didn’t see you, spying on me today.”
Swallowing the last chunk of bread in your mouth, you raise an eyebrow, “I wasn’t spying. I just needed to-“
“To what? Gather evidence so you can tell Yoongi, and he’ll break up with me so you both can live happily ever after?!”
You bristle at her tone, “what the fuck are you talking about? I heard a rumor, and I refused to believe it, so I decided to see for myself.”
“Okay,” she folds her arms, “you saw? Now what?”
“How could you, Suhee? He’s such a g-“
“Oh please,” she scoffs, “guys like him are good to play the boyfriend role. Nothing else.”
“Boyfriend role? So, one dick isn’t enough for you?”
She laughs, her teeth on show as she throws her head back, “correction. His dick isn’t enough for me.”
“You seem to thoroughly enjoy it though!”
“Damn, you keep proving me right, I knew you listen in on us while we have sex!”
“That’s because I live here, and you scream like a banshee!”
She sits down on the table, rubbing her temples as if you’re the cheater and you need a scolding.
“Listen, don’t tell Yoongi.”
Scoffing, you stand up to rinse your plate at the sink, “he’ll find out soon enough, I’m pretty sure everyone knows since it managed to reach me, and I hardly speak to anyone.”
“So, who did tell you?”
“A little birdie,” you dry your hands and walk down the hallway, she follows you into your room, socked feet pressing into the carpeted floor.
“Someone from the squad then?”
You busy yourself with looking for pyjamas, “no…”
“Come on, I know when you’re lying to me, plus they’re literally the only girls who you talk to other than me.”
“Yeah, one of them told me. But it won’t be long until Yoongi finds out.”
“Is that a threat, Y/N?”
You toss a sleepshirt onto your bed, “no it isn’t. I’m just saying, rumors spread like wildfire around here.”
“It won’t, if I’m careful enough.”
Pulling out a pair of socks and pink sleep shorts, you narrow your eyes at her, “why are you even doing it?”
“Youngsik is nice, but so is Yoongi. It’s complicated Y/N, I don’t expect you to understand when you didn’t even have one boyfriend in your entire life.”
Tears prickle your eyes at her jab, but you blink it away.
“Stop cheating on Yoongi, Suhee. He’s gonna-“
She steps into your personal space, “he won’t find out, unless you tell him. I’m being careful. You cannot tell him.”
Taking a step back, you look up at her with wide eyes. She kisses your head, “now why did you get home so late? Usually, you’re back home before 6PM.”
She lingers at your doorway, while you grab a clean towel from your drawer.
“I was with Yoongi.”
“Keeping my boyfriend entertained. Nice.”
“Someone has to do it since he has a lousy girlfriend.”
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Staring out your bedroom window, you tap the end of your pen on your desk, fist placed under your cheek as you watch the leaves float in the air.
Maybe if you weren’t so shy, if you weren’t so quiet and reserved, if you weren’t you, Yoongi would’ve been spared the hurt that is inevitable. You know it won’t be long before he finds out, but you definitely won’t be the one to break it to him.
He’s so clueless and in love, bile rises in your throat.
There’s nothing you can do about it either, Suhee will hate you forever if you had to tell Yoongi and you don’t even know how Yoongi would react if you told him. Would he yell and shout? Would he pretend not to care? Would he break up with Suhee? Would he forgive her?
How does someone react when they find out that they’re being cheated on?
It hurts, yes it does, of course, they’re going behind your back when you were supposed to be the only one for them.
You still don’t know what goes on in Suhee’s head, and you won’t pretend that you do know. She’s playing some sick game, while you sit back and watch.
She’s right, if you tell Yoongi, she can easily say that you have a crush on him and you just want to tear them apart. Which would end terribly, Yoongi will probably never speak to you again.
Suhee is manipulative and Yoongi will listen to her over your reasoning.
Girls like Suhee get their way, that’s the reality of life.
Your phone rings and your mood brightens a bit when you notice that it’s your mother calling.
“Hey, mom.”
“Heyyy, how are you doing? What are you up to?”
Shuffling over to your bed, you fall back on the plush covers, “I’m good. Not much, was just studying.”
“Oh no. Something’s up. Something’s bothering you.”
Rubbing your palm down your cheek, you nod even though she can’t see you, “it’s Suhee.”
“Ugh Suhee? You’re still friends with her? I told you a thousand times before, you’re not kids anymore. You’re in college! You can be friends with whoever you want! Fight whoever you want! Kiss whoever you want! Fu-“
“I’m just saying, Y/N. You aren’t forced to be her friend anymore, even if you live together.”
You throw an arm over your eyes, “I know, I just…I’ve known her my whole life and I-“
“I know, I know. It’s hard because you’ve been friends for so long.”
“So what’s the issue with her?”
You sigh, “she’s cheating on Yoongi.”
“Goodness, didn’t think she was the cheating type.”
You spring up from the bed, “I know!”
You hear your mother sigh over the phone, “she’s cheating on Yoongi with who?”
“Some guy from the swim team.”
“Ooh, athletic. Yoongi is athletic too. Doesn’t he play basketball?”
“Yeah, he’s super athletic.”
“He’s also the guy you had a massive crush on since you started college?”
“Yes! I mean, yeah,” you clear your throat, “he was.”
“You’re friends with him, am I right?”
“If I were you, I’d snatch that boy for myself.”
Groaning, you stand at your door to check if Suhee came home, “Suhee is my best friend.”
“Still don’t know why…” She mumbles under her breath, but you caught what she said.
“You aren’t helping mum!”
“I’m sorry! I’m just saying.”
You sigh and flop back down on your bed, cheek pressed against your cat plushie, “I asked her about it.”
“Wait, you asked her about what?”
“Why she’s cheating on him.”
She gasps so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear, “that is a big change! Calling her out on her shit!”
Rolling your eyes, you bring the phone back to your ear. Your mother needs to stop watching so much Netflix.
“She said I shouldn’t tell him because she’ll just tell Yoongi that I’m lying, and I just want to break them up.”
“That is manipulative behavior, Y/N, ditch the bitch.”
“Dad just got home. I’ll talk to you later. Bye~”
As you set your phone back down on your desk, you realize that your mother is right.
You recall Yoongi’s words from last night, about your inhibitions, the things that hold you back. It’s time you get rid of them, one by one, no matter how difficult it might be.
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“I’m thinking of going on a 3-day fruit diet before the Halloween party.”
You swirl your straw around in your milkshake, watching the milky froth bubble up.
“Yah! Y/N! I’m talking to you!” Suhee snaps her fingers in front of your face, her loud voice grabbing the attention of a few people who sit near you in the coffee shop.
“What did you say?”
She sighs, “I said, I think I’m gonna go on a 3-day fruit diet before the Halloween party. Wanna join me?”
You shake your head, “I’m happy with my figure right now.”
“Really? Why did I even ask you?”
She flicks her hair over her shoulder, “so, what costume are you gonna wear?”
“Hmm not sure.”
“Well, Yoongi and I are going to match our outfits. You know like a sexy nurse and hot doctor. Or even better, school teacher and naughty student.”
You look up to see her daydreaming, twirling her red hair around her index finger.
“Seriously? School teacher and naughty student?”
She shrugs, “we haven’t found the outfits yet, we’re still figuring it out.”
You chuckle as a thought crosses your mind, taking a sip of your milkshake.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you giggle.
“Tell me!”
“I was just wondering why you aren’t pairing up your outfit with Youngsik’s.”
You can see the anger build up in her black eyes and you know she’s about to blow up until a deep voice makes the both of you whip your heads around.
The tall, dimpled man makes his way toward you, you stand up from your chair to pull him in for a hug when you recognize who it is.
“Ahh,” he bends down to cover your body with his, “it feels like ages since I last saw you.”
Pulling away from him, he looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze, “you look great!”
“You too,” you giggle, hand coming up to pinch his bicep, “beefing up I see.”
He rubs the back of his neck, an old habit you’re all too familiar with, “yeah.”
“How’s chemical engineering going?”
He raises his eyebrows, “I won’t lie, tough. But I’m managing, I chose that career path for a reason.”
You nod, “true true.”
“Anyway, I’ll see you around,” he hugs you again, “and I’ll text you! Was so good to see you again!”
Smiling to yourself, you sit down in your chair, humming happily, ignoring Suhee who gawks at Namjoon’s retreating figure.
“Okay. Who the fuck was that?”
“Why am I not surprised that you don’t remember him,” you lean forward, “that’s Kim Namjoon, he was in high school with us.”
She stares up at the ceiling, trying to remember, her face lights up, “ahhhh! He had the mushroom haircut, right? Damn, he’s so hot now.”
Scoffing, your straw makes a loud sound as you slurp up the last bit of ice-cream, “is anyone safe around you?”
She shoots you a glare, “someone has a bit of a big mouth these days.”
You direct your attention to the barista as she stacks the cups near the coffee machine.
“Anyway,” she throws some change on the table and adjusts her dress that just makes it to cover her ass, “I have to go meet my boyfriend now. Can’t wait to see your boring costume this year. Love ya!”
Yoongi or Youngsik?
You have no idea.
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One goal: choose un-boring Halloween outfit.
You’re sitting with a mug of piping hot tea, browsing a costume site. You find one that you think is cute, but the price urges you to keep scrolling.
You want to wear something sexy this year, you’re into it.
Last year you wore a (now that you look back) horrible checkered, pink and white dress. You were Mary and Suhee was the sexy little lamb.
Bonnet tied under your chin, you shiver at the memory.
You’re definitely going sexy this year. You want to pick something that suits you, something that correlates with your personality and interests.
A full black latex outfit catches your attention. It reminds you of-
It’s perfect, you like superhero movies, you watch them almost every weekend.
Yoongi likes Batman…
The outfit you found on the site is way too expensive, but you think you can gather black pieces here and there and put together an outfit. All you need is cat ears. And a utility belt. Thigh high boots? You already own leather tights…
It’s going to cost a lot, you might have to use some of your savings.
Not wasting any time, you add the desired pieces to your cart.
Great. Delivery a week before the 30th of October.
Enough time if you change your mind.
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Placing your leg on the bench as you stretch, you watch Suhee and Yoongi cuddle across the court.
“Funny she’s here today,” Naya speaks up from her spot next to you, “must be Yoongi’s turn.”
Sucking your lips in, you hold in your laugh as you roll your shoulders back, “glad I get a break from pretending to be head cheer.”
Suhee runs in your direction, Yoongi watching her as she goes.
Naya places a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not.”
“Okay guys, come on. That’s enough stretching and warming up.”
She clasps her hands together as you and the rest of the squad gather in front of her, she turns a bucket upside down and stands on it so she’s higher than the rest of you.
“I wanted to make an announcement,” she begins, “I know, I haven’t been here for the last two practice sessions but it’s okay! You won’t have to deal with Y/N any longer,” she laughs.
“Anyway, I wanted to say,” her fake smile disappears, “I think we should direct our attention to other things. More important things, like focusing on the routine and choreography and studying, or whatever. What I’m trying to say is…refrain from spreading rumors and gossiping. We don’t waste our precious time here.”
Naya’s gaze is set on you as Suhee continues to talk.
“The semi-final is on Saturday, and we need to work!”
She punctuates each sentence with a clap of her hands.
“Now let’s go!”
Everyone cheers except for you and Naya who’s still watching you closely, her pretty face contorted into a frown.
You hope she doesn’t think that you told Suhee…You did, but you didn’t say who told you.
After the game, you grab your bag and run to Naya who ignores your shouts of her name.
“Naya. I just wanted to-“
“Save it, Y/N. Why don’t you go suck Suhee’s ass some more.”
You feel a pang in your chest.
Gripping her shoulder, you spin her around, “I didn’t tell Suhee that you told me about her…cheating.”
She folds her arms, “great.”
“She said she saw me spying on her and I told her that I knew, and she obviously knows that the only girls I talk to are the cheer squad.”
You take a deep breath, “I didn’t tell her who told me, I sw-“
“Y/N,” she places a hand on your arm, “relax. It’s okay. I get it now.”
Looking at her a little wide-eyed, chest heaving, she chuckles.
“So wait. You were spying on her?”
You point to the road, “the day you told me, I decided to find out for myself, and I saw her and Youngsik making out.”
“Wow, she’s a real bitch,” she gestures behind you with her eyes.
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when you see Suhee sitting on Yoongi’s lap, her hand in his hair as she kisses him.
Guess he won’t need a ride today.
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“This game will determine who goes to the final round. So, girls, I wanna hear you cheer our boys like your life depends on it!”
Suhee can be so dramatic, but you all do your job and cheer them on.
Hoseok winks at you as he runs past the group of squealing girls.
Naya nudges you, “I think he likes you~”
You watch the icy blond, slender physique appearing feather light as he jumps in the air.
Next, Yoongi runs past you, and he smiles at Suhee, his eyes meet yours for a millisecond and your heart skips a beat.
“But you like him,” Naya says, her voice a little dim.
You turn your head to look at her, mouth open.
Suhee blows kisses at him, his gummy smile in place as his friends shove him around and tease him.
You pick up your pom poms, “does it matter?”
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Twenty minutes pass and the team take a break, Suhee hands Yoongi a towel while you hand out juice to the guys.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
Hoseok beams at you. When you get to Yoongi, Suhee grabs the bottle and waves you off as she feeds him.
Sitting down on the bench, Naya taps your shoulder and points somewhere behind you, you see Youngsik watching Suhee and Yoongi, his hands gripping the bar in front of him. When your gaze travels back to Suhee, you notice that she keeps looking back at him, glaring while she runs her fingers through Yoongi’s sweaty strands of hair.
Shaking your head, you take a swig of juice and stand up from your seat, joining the rest of the squad as the second half begins. This part of the evening is when your heart starts to pump a little faster, hair raising at the back of your neck as the crowd roars, coaches cussing and screeching at the players.
You stop dancing with the rest of the girls when Hoseok searches for an open pass, Yoongi comes rushing in and with a quick throw, the ball goes flying through the basket.
Without thinking, you yell Yoongi’s name, he whips his head around to see you jumping up and down. He smiles then shoots you a thumbs up, like you’ve just scored for the team. Smiling back at him, you gesture for the squad to join in, keeping one arm propped on your hip while the other stands high in the air, waving back and forth.
A bit delayed, Suhee joins in, chanting with the crowd.
When the clock nears zero, you feel the blood rush to your ears when Yoongi faces off with his opponent. He bounces the ball to Hoseok, your eyes darting from the clock to the players, panting as they try to block Hoseok, who beats the buzzer and dunks the ball into the basket.
Screams echo in the vicinity, crowd cheering as Bangtan’s team makes it to the finals. They shout Hoseok’s name, picking him up on their shoulders while he holds his fists in the air. When they put him down, he runs to the crowd dramatically, giving each of them high fives.
The coach’s tie comes loose with how high he’s springing up in the air. You giggle, hugging the girls around you. Hoseok stands in front of you, you yank his hand and pull him in for a hug.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders as tight as possible, squeezing the air from your lungs.
When you break away from his hold, he keeps his hands on your elbows, staring down at you.
To your horror, everyone begins to chant kiss kiss kiss while you look around awkwardly, seeing Suhee laugh and point at you.
“You’re boring.”
“Why did I even ask you?”
“You’ll never do it!”
Taking a deep breath, you see Naya give you a smile that appears encouraging, eyes still scanning the crowd, Yoongi comes in your line of sight, his eyes darting between you and Hoseok.
Holding Hoseok’s cheeks in your hands, you lean up on your tippy toes and press your lips to his, feeling his hands settle on your waist. The crowd goes even crazier, hearing your name fill the air. His soft lips move over yours, without thinking twice, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down as your tongue rolls over his. When you pull away, a string of spit connects your lips, you purse the flesh to break the line that connects the two of you.
Hoseok seems a little shocked, his teammates nudging him, his cheeks tinted red. The squad does the same to you, giggling as you hide your face behind your palms.
You miss the look of disbelief on both Yoongi’s and Suhee’s face.
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The kiss might’ve spiked your confidence, it felt good to be at the center of attention for once.
Hoseok messaged you later that night to ask what the kiss meant, you had said it was a celebratory kiss, as simple as that. You haven’t stopped texting since that night.
You’re dotting black near your upper lip, eyeliner held tightly in your hand as you draw on whiskers to complete your costume that hangs up in your cupboard.
The image of Yoongi watching you and Hoseok is etched in your mind, his lips were shut, an indecipherable look on his face. You’ve had enough time to think about it, he had that reaction because Hoseok probably didn’t tell him that he had feelings for you. They’re best friends, they talk about everything. The kiss must’ve been a surprise to him.
You have no idea what outfit Suhee is wearing for tonight’s party.
“Y/N,” she stands at your doorway, “I’m heading to Yoongi’s to change.”
You hum.
She picks up your glass filled with your smoothie mix, “is there almond milk in this?”
“God, Y/N,” she sets it back down with a clink, “I told you almond milk makes your boobs bigger!”
You apply mascara, “maybe you should have some.”
She stomps down the hallway, you heart the front door slam shut. Laughing to yourself, you take off your gown and put on your outfit.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smooth your palms down your hips. You feel a little nervous, you’ve never really worn an outfit like this before, each curve and dip of your body is accentuated.
Shaking your doubts away, you grab the black cat-ears and place it on your head, cocking your head to the side as you survey your outfit. You had practiced your makeup thrice before tonight and you think it came out pretty good this fourth time.
When you get to the party, all eyes are on you, you feel extremely exposed, heads turn as you walk deeper into the house. You’re having an internal battle, keeping your arms at your sides instead of crossing them over your chest like you usually would when you’re feeling uncomfortable.
“Oh my God, Y/N,” Naya sidles up to your side, you don’t even look at her outfit because you’re too busy staring down at the tip of your boot, “you look so damn cute!”
Blushing, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “uh, thank you. Have you seen Suhee?”
She points to the balcony, you see her leaning over the railing, she’s wearing what seems to be uniform? She turns around and waves at you, as you’re approaching her, you squint your eyes and look her up and down while she does the same.
“Are you supposed to be catwoman? Cute.”
Nodding, you point at her collar, “and you’re…?”
“Sexy air hostess,” she twirls around.
“Y/N,” she holds your arms and pulls you close so her lips are pressed to your ear, “I need a favor.”
You catch a whiff of alcohol. Meeting her gaze, you nod for her to continue.
“I need you to keep Yoongi occupied for a while.”
Your eyebrows furrow, “why?”
“Because,” she whispers, “Youngsik is here and he’s kind of not talking to me. I need to make it up to him.”
You’re about to walk away but she grips your hand, “please, Y/N. Don’t you wanna show Yoongi your outfit?”
Shoving her away, she calls to your retreating figure, “thanks, Y/N!”
As you’re turning around to tell her that you are NOT going to do her that favor, you watch her pull Youngsik into a room, giving him all the bedroom eyes.
Cursing internally, you walk out of the stuffy house. How does Suhee manage to drag you into her bullshit, every single time?
You could recognize that voice anywhere. Spinning around, your jaw touches the floor when you see his outfit.
Decked out in uniform, he’s wearing a pilot costume.
That’s all that registers in your brain because he looks so fucking hot in his outfit. A single silver earring dangling from his ear, silver rings on each finger.
His mouth is open as his eyes rake down your figure, he takes a step closer to you, you do the same.
“You look-“
You both speak at the same time, and you gesture for him to continue but he mirrors your action.
“No,” you laugh, “what were you gonna say?”
“If I say what I really want to say,” he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “then I might be in trouble.”
Cheeks heating up, you tilt your head to the side, feeling particularly bold tonight, “why?”
He sucks a breath in, gaze lingering on your chest. Typical male.
“Promise you won’t tell Suhee?”
You want to laugh on his face, his girlfriend is literally fucking someone else right now and he’s worried about giving you a compliment.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “I promise.”
Taking another step closer to you, his chest is a few inches away from your face.
He leans down to whisper, hands tucked in his pockets, “you look fucking sexy.”
You almost choke on your own spit when his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.
You were expecting a:
“You look nice.”
“You look good.”
“You look pretty.”
But “you look fucking sexy”? Nope, your pussy is not throbbing right now.
Clearing your throat, you’re trying extremely hard not to push your thighs together because he’s still watching you. Giving him a tight-lipped smile, you mumble a thanks.
“You’re welcome.”
Why is he still whispering in that sexy deep tone?
You see him take a sip of his drink in your peripheral vision. Silence, except for music and noisy chatter coming from inside the house, settles between the two of you.
“So, you and Hoseok huh?”
You turn your head to look at him, “what do you mean?”
“You guys are dating? I was there…at the game…I saw the kiss.”
“Really?” You hold your chin, “Didn’t see you there.”
His eyes widen, “I was there! I assisted his-“
“I was being sarcastic, Yoongi.”
“Oh,” he laughs dryly, “so…the kiss?”
“What about it?” You tease.
“What’s going on with the two of you?”
You shrug, fixing the cat-ears atop your head, “it was just a celebratory kiss.”
“A celebratory kiss,” he repeats.
“Why didn’t you kiss the whole team and coach if it was celebratory?”
You chuckle, “what?”
“I’m just saying, if it was celebratory,” he drags out each syllable, “and the whole team won. Why didn’t you give everyone a ‘celebratory kiss’?”
Someone might think he’s discussing basketball tactics with the way his hands track his words, a serious expression on his face.
You don’t say anything, fiddling with your utility belt.
“I miss the old Y/N.”
You whip your head to look at him, “what?”
He stares straight ahead, repeating his words, “I miss the old Y/N.”
“What are you-“
“I miss the Y/N who doesn’t give out ‘celebratory’ kisses, the Y/N who dresses up as a ghost for Halloween, the Y/N who-“
“Yoongi,” you interrupt, unsure of where he’s going with his rant.
He misses the ‘old you’?
The one who let Suhee walk all over her, the one who had not an ounce of confidence even in her own home.
“What are you talking about, Yoongi? This is me. This is who I am. I’m sorry if there’s a certain ‘Y/N’ standard that I need to follow.”
To be honest, you spent all week gathering the courage to wear this costume, to come out of the apartment wearing a full face of makeup and done up hair. And here he is referring to the old you, the you that you liked the least.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N. I just-“ he sucks in a breath “-I was talking about the Y/N that I first met. You know the cute, quiet one?”
“Cute. That’s all everyone ever says, cute.”
You smack your palm on the railing, bracelets jingling.
“Yes, because it’s true Y/N. The same cute girl that I had feelings for!”
Your eyes bug out of your head, “what,” voice like a puff of air.
“I know you don’t see me like that,” he’s twisting at his rings, not looking at you, “Suhee told me. But I caught feelings for you…since our first year. You were shy and it made sense that you wouldn’t have feelings for someone like me. But I did. And I wanted to ask you out, but I was hesitant, so I asked Suhee for advice and she told me that you see me as a friend. I guess I saved myself from embarrassment but here we are.”
Blinking at him, what he just said doesn’t seem to sink into your brain until a few moments later.
“Still embarrassing myself,” he chuckles nervously.
“S-Suhee told you that I didn’t have feelings for you?”
He nods.
Anger bubbles to the surface. Because she knew, she knew how much you liked him, and she lied.
“Anyway,” he brings up his hand to rub a knuckle on the side of his nose, “did you see her? She said she needed to use the restroom half an hour ago.”
You’re babbling, nails digging into your palms.
“She went in one of the rooms.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later.”
As he walks back into the house, you see Hoseok near the doorway.
“Hey,” you walk up to him and pull him out of the house, “you look great.”
“Wow, Y/N,” his gaze travels from your face down to your shoes, “you look so cute,” he pinches your cat ears.
“Thanks, uhm, do you wanna talk?”
You gesture to the poolside, and he nods, “yeah yeah sure.”
He’s talking, handing you his drink, throwing an arm around your shoulder, but you aren’t listening.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he leans in closer, and you smile at him, hands clasped in your lap, “can I kiss you?”
You place your palm on his chest and shake your head.
You turn around to see Suhee running down the stairs and in your direction, heels in her hand, tears streaming down her face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You stand up and Hoseok follows you, hand lingering on your back.
“What are you-“
“I told you to keep him occupied!”
Her hair is messed up, mascara streaking her cheeks. You look at Hoseok, awkwardly, then hold your palms up placatingly.
“Suhee, we-“
“Shut the fuck up! You’re so fucking useless,” she pokes your forehead with her index finger, you stumble in your heels, Hoseok catches you by your elbows, “because of you I lost him!”
“Suhee, what is your problem? Is that any way to treat your best friend?”
“Oh shut the hell up Hoseok! She doesn’t fucking like you!”
You look up to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes.
“Hobi, I-“ you hiccup.
“Let’s see if he still sticks by your side like this,” Suhee shouts as she stomps off to her car.
Tears are brimming over, the lump in your throat burns as you try to take a breath.
“Hey, Y/N,” his voice is soft, finger swiping a tear that rolls down your cheek, “it’s okay. You’re okay.”
He pulls you into his embrace, your tears staining his white shirt.
“I’ll still be your friend,” he giggles.
You look up at him, when another booming voice cuts through your thoughts, leaves crunching under their hurried footsteps.
“Did you know?”
Stepping away from Hoseok, you see Yoongi staring at you, blood trickling down the side of his lip.
“Yoongi, you’re-“
“Did,” he shuts his eyes and inhales a shaky breath, “you know?”
His eyes are wild when he opens them again, piercing into your own.
“Did she know what, Yoongi?”
He looks between you and Hoseok, poking his tongue into his cheek.
“Did she know that Suhee was cheating on me?”
You can feel Hoseok’s gaze burning the side of your face.
Your eye twitches, “Yoongi…”
He laughs, running his fingers through his air as he walks away, “some fucking friend you are Y/N.”
“Yoongi!” Your chest feels like its closing up, panting as you call after him, but he doesn’t stop running.
“I’ll…text you,” Hoseok runs after him, leaving you with the stagnant pool, no breeze waving the leaves around, even the crickets are silent.
The opposite of what’s happening inside your head.
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Struggling to open your front door with your heels and purse in hand, your cat-ears fall forward and blocks your vision. Cursing, you finally get the key in the lock and twist, huffing as you stumble into the dark space.
Sniffing, you check your phone for any response from Yoongi. He hasn’t answered any of your calls or texts.
You place your keys on the counter when the lamp in the lounge goes on, startling you.
“Y/N,” Suhee’s voice is nasally, her eyes puffy. A state you’ve never seen her in before.
Sighing, you throw your heels on the floor and sit down on the couch in front of her.
“How could you do that to me? How could you?”
Eyes the size of saucers, you turn your head to stare at her, hands dropping from your face.
“How could I?”
You throw your head back as you cackle, not sure if you heard her correctly.
Facing her, you point a finger in her direction, “how could you? You told Yoongi lies, all you ever told him was fucking lies! About me, about yourself, about your whole fucking relationship!”
She bangs a fist on the table, “don’t fucking talk about my relationship!”
“I think I fucking can! The whole reason why you were even together was because of me! You lied your way into that relationship!”
She stands up from the chair to tower over you, “you would’ve never been enough for someone like him! He-“
Matching her height, you place a hand on her shoulder to push her out of your personal space, “how the fuck do you know that? You knew how much I fucking liked him! But you didn’t even give me a chance! That’s what you always do! Hogging all the guys that give me a bit of attention!”
“Wait wait wait, you’re mad at me right now?” She places a hand on her chest as she laughs, “you fucking ruined my relationship!”
“No,” you take a step forward, “you ruined your relationship. He was bound to find out eventually.”
“You know what, Y/N. I never knew you could be such a fucking bitch. What happened to you? Suddenly grew a pair?!”
Shoving her away from you, you walk down the hallway, “I’m fucking done with you Suhee!”
You’re bawling, but she doesn’t give up, still shouting at you from your doorway.
“Without me, you’re no one!”
You’re about to slam the door in her face, when she shoves her foot between the door and doorframe and overpowers you, backing you up in the room until you fall on the bed.
“My parents pay for this place, and I want you and your pathetic ass out!”
“Fine by me! I won’t have to keep up with your whoring around anymore!”
She gasps, while you lay back on your elbows and with a huff, she leaves your room and slams the door shut behind her.
When it’s quiet, you sink down on your bed and cover your face with your palms, heart pounding in your ears as you unzip your jacket and fling it across the room.
You are done.
You don’t need her. You’re done with her manipulation and games.
With blurry vision, you grab your laptop from your desk and search up cheap apartments around campus. Fingers trembling as you type.
Hand searching the blankets for your phone desperately, you search for a contact, snivelling when they answer the call.
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Cheerleading practice rolls around and you don’t miss the whispers and sniggers directed at Suhee. She looks drained, hair up in a bun as she warms up.
“Hey,” Naya sits down next to you on the grass.
“Hey,” you smile, playing with the cap of your water bottle.
“I heard about what happened on Saturday at the party.”
“Yeah,” you take a sip of water.
“I guess you’re finally free of her,” she gestures to Suhee who is now staring at her phone screen.
“I also need to find a new place.”
“What? She kicked you out?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, indifference painting your features.
“Don’t you guys like, split the bill?”
“It’s complicated.”
She nods then taps your knee to get you to look at her, “I actually live with Taehee and Sooyeon, but Sooyeon is moving in with her boyfriend who literally lives right next door. If you want, you could take her room.”
You blink at her.
“I mean, if you want to, or until you find a better place.”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
She laughs and stands up, dusting the grass off her skirt, “pay it forward.”
Suhee doesn’t even glance at you as everyone practices the choreography for the final and once practice is over, she speeds off in the direction of the swim stadium.
“I’ll text you the details,” Naya runs off with Taehee and Sooyeon, the other girls that you might be living with soon.
You can hear the thud of the basketball echo, when you turn around, as expected, Yoongi stands at the center, the golden hour hue makes his blond hair appear like a halo.
Chest puffing out as you take a deep breath, you walk over to him.
Without turning around, he greets, “hey, Y/N.”
“Hey,” voice soft.
Finally, he spins around to look at you, looking a little brighter than the last time you saw him.
“How are you?”
Drawing circles on the ground with your shoe, you keep your eyes on the movement, “Good.”
You hear him sigh, “I’m sorry,” you meet his gaze, “for how I reacted at the party. You’re not the one I should’ve been mad at.”
“Don’t be. I should’ve said something.”
The ball bounces from his hand to be caught in the other, “nah, she’s your best friend. Best friends keep your secrets, right?”
“She was my best friend.”
He blinks at you, scratching his ear, “oh.”
The ball bounces twice before you catch it in your hands.
“Wanna play?”
Despite being exhausted after such a long day, you’re glad to see him in a completely different mood than you expected him to be, you nod.
Bending your knees, you dribble and move away from him. He comes up in front of you and snatches the ball from your hands, flying as he dunks it.
He runs back to you, while you try, sluggishly, to get the ball back.
“What?” He pants, “no fancy moves today?”
Rolling your eyes, you grab the ball from him and back him up, his black eyes, lit by the molten sun, fixed on yours. Turning on your left foot, you press your back to his chest and shoot, going straight through the basket.
He claps, lips sticking out exaggeratedly, pretending to be impressed.
The ball bounces in front of you again and you’re about to grab it when he beats you to it and grabs your wrist, dragging you a few feet away from the basket.
Looking at him a little confused, he pulls up his shorts and bends his knees, ball leaving his hand with heavy touches.
He bounces it to you, “go go.”
Springing off the floor, the ball is in your control as you step to the side away from him, in a flash, he snatches it from you and dunks it again, swinging from the basket, flaunting his strength as he pulls himself up then jumps down.
Heart pounding in your chest, you grab the ball and jump up to shoot when he yanks you away from the basket, squeals tumbling from your lips as he spins you around and sets you down, reminiscent of the last time you played together.
He stands behind you, hands still of your hips. You turn your head around to look at him, face a few inches away from his, eyes flickering to your lips.
Your palms are sweaty, chest beginning to hurt with each breath. His eyelashes flutter as he shuts his eyes, you watch the pretty strands, his breath tickling your lips.
Abruptly, you break out of his hold, no matter how much you wanted to connect your lips and kiss him like it’s the last thing you’ll do. You can’t.
He watches you intently, almost like he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t kiss him.
“I-“ you swallow “-I don’t want to be a rebound.”
He picks the ball up from the ground, tossing it from one hand to the other, “a rebound?”
You nod, “yeah.”
“I’ll show you what’s a rebound.”
Moving swiftly across the court, the ball soars in the air and leaves his hands only for it to bounce of the backboard, then the rim of the basket. But before it can touch the ground, he springs up and dunks it, legs dangling off the ground.
You watch the ball bounce away somewhere toward the trees behind the court. He picks his bag up off the floor and slings it around his shoulder as he makes his way to you.
He moves your hair away from your face to whisper in your ear, his musky scent clouding your mind, “that’s a rebound.”
Palm still on your face, he kisses your other cheek, lips lingering on your skin, heat spreading all over your body. When he pulls away, he winks at you and delivers his blinding gummy smile.
He puts on his black cap and runs across the road, leaving you gobsmacked with your palms pressed to your cheeks. Heart growing wings, threatening to leave your chest with how fast it’s pumping.
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“We’re having an afterparty whether we win or lose,” Taehee holds a finger up in front of Naya’s face.
You laugh, tying your hair up as you watch them in the reflection.
It’s another Saturday night and the final game of the season, it’s also five days since you moved in with Taehee and Naya, their apartment is always buzzing with good energy. You thank Naya everyday for letting you move in.
“You guys ready?”
“Yep,” you grab your water bottle and car keys from the coffee table.
You moved to a new apartment and coined new friends with it, they’re all so sweet and caring and they flood your days with positive affirmations while you do the same.
As you’re walking down the stairs of the pavilion, you catch sight of Suhee and Youngsik. Her arms are wrapped around his head as she sits on his lap. When she sees you’re watching, she dips her head to kiss him.
Coach Kim is busy talking to the team. Hoseok stands with an arm over Yoongi’s chest, they listen attentively to him as he bangs his fist on his palm.
They disperse and sit down on the bench while the others warm up.
You’re rolling your neck back when Yoongi stands in front of you, smile in place.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Yoongi.”
“You look pretty,” you’re about to thank him until he adds, “cute. Pretty cute.”
His shoulders shake while you roll your eyes, “good luck out there.”
Finger reaching up, he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze tracking the movement, “I have my good luck charm right here.”
Face probably as red as your seat, you shove him away from you, “you’re so cheesy.”
He cups his hands around his mouth as he yells, “you love it, Y/N.”
Naya and Taehee’s elbows are digging into your sides the whole time, so when you finally look at them, you find yourself blushing extremely hard.
“Oh my God~”
They’re mumbling under their breaths, and you try to shush them.
“You and Yoongi huh?”
Both you and Naya turn around to see Suhee sitting behind you, her chest pressed to her thighs as she leans down to whisper, “enjoy his small dick.”
With a giggle, she trots away to grab her pom poms and starts the routine without the rest of the squad while you and Naya glare at her.
When your gaze travels back to Yoongi, you see him glance at Suhee, his mouth in a thin line.
“Come on,” Naya tosses your pom poms in your lap.
Bangtan is off to a good start, 16-6 after the first half ends.
You’re about to pick up the crate of water when Suhee steps in front of you, handing water bottles to each of the players. You watch her closely when she gets to Yoongi, bending down far too much as her cleavage becomes exposed to him. He’s too busy talking to Hoseok to even look at her.
“If he has a small dick,” Naya imitates Suhee’s voice, making you laugh, “why is she doing the most to get his attention?”
Suhee is now crouched down in front of him as she ties her shoelaces then stretches her arms over her head to fix her ponytail, her stomach peeking out.
You know that Suhee never backs down that easily.
Getting back in position, the crowd chants along with your squad as the players work on quick feet, coach Kim yelling defense as the opposing team tries to shoot. The crazed audience hangs on to the edge of their seats when the clock nears zero, securing the fate of Bangtan’s basketball team.
Your hand comes up to chew on your nail when a player from the other college’s team grabs at Yoongi’s hand while he tries to spring up to shoot, yanking him away from his initial spot. The referee awards Bangtan with two free throws. Yoongi moves away from the backboard to stand at the free throw line.
The crowd goes silent as Yoongi cracks his neck. You can only see the back of his head but you can picture the intense look he must have on his face. With a flick of his wrist, the ball hits the backboard and bounces off the ground, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ filling the air. Yoongi’s shoulders slump in what you think is disappointment, but he gets the ball again and prepares for his final shot.
The air is thick with tension, you can’t even pretend to imagine what it must be like to have all the pressure on you, how it would feel to have the fate of your entire team in your hands, whether or not you win this season.
Yoongi bends his knees, bobbing up and down slightly before the ball cuts through the thick air and with a satisfying whoosh, it proceeds straight through the basket.
Everyone jumps for joy, the team wastes no time in picking Yoongi up, almost tossing him in the air. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, hugging each of the squad members.
“We did it!”
Coach Kim fist bumps the air, tie swinging around wildly as he does some weird dance.
A shower of black and gold confetti comes down, ear ringing with all the noise and fuss.
Your palms are aching and red, sore as you continue to slam them together, pom poms lost somewhere on the ground.
Feeling a pat on your shoulder, you spin around to see Yoongi with a goofy smile on his face.
“Do I get a celebratory kiss?”
You’re about to nudge him away with your hip when you notice him lick his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he moves a little closer to you.
Nervously, you look around to see everyone watching you. Much like the night of the semi-finals which wasn’t too long ago, except you kissed Hoseok, who is now the on-looker.
Bile rising in your throat, you curl your fingers around Yoongi’s wrist and pull him through the double doors, the light from inside hits the shiny floors as you drag him into a dark corner.
You don’t want to be named someone that kisses a different guy each week, but you really want to kiss Yoongi.
Slamming him into a nearby wall, he looks down at you with a perplexed look on his face.
“What are hmmf-“
You grab his cheeks and smash your lips to his, moving fervently, tasting his cherry-flavored chapstick. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, hands pulling your hips against his. Moaning, your weave your fingers through his hair, head moving this way and that as your tongues clash. You can still feel the confetti raining down on you, the muscle in your chest pumping with a thunderous beat.
Breathlessly, you pull away, eyes struggling to open, so immersed in his touch.
“Wow,” he pants, and you finally look up at him, half of his face illuminated.
Smile splitting your face, you realize that you kissed Min Yoongi, the guy you’ve been crushing on for the past two years. The guy that has feelings fo-
“Wait,” your eyebrows furrow.
His thumb rubs over your hip and you realize that your bodies are still packed together, you try to move away but his iron grip keeps you in place.
“What is it,” his voice is just above a whisper, so gruff.
“Do you have feelings for me?”
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “yes I do,” you gasp when he presses his hips against you, feeling his very large bulge dig into your stomach.
“I have so much feelings for you.”
He keeps rocking his hips against you all while bringing your own forward, his leg slotting between your thighs.
“Yoongi,” you squeal, “someone could see us.”
“Did you get here with your car?”
You nod, jolting when the skin of your thigh rubs against the material of his shorts, “with Taehee and Naya.”
“Text them,” you purse your lips when his thigh meets your center, feeling the wetness pool there, “tell them that they need to find another ride.”
Head falling forward to his shoulder, you nod again.
“Let them know that you’ll be coming home with me.”
Unable to speak, he moves you away from his body and drags you down the hallway toward the exit, feeling your pussy clench, panties damp with your arousal.
He shoves his hand into your jacket pocket and pulls out your keys. Hand still enclosed around yours, he opens the passenger side door and buckles you in, despite your protests. As soon as he closes the driver side door, his lips are on your neck, teeth nipping on your soft flesh. His hand comes up to close around your breast, each press in time with his suckles on the column of your throat.
You hear muffled talking, and you tighten your hold on his hair to pull him away, but he just groans, the sound reverberating through your body.
“Yoongi,” you gasp, his hand squeezing your other breast. Tugging on his hair a little harder, you pull him away from your neck, he looks up at you with blown out pupils and puckered lips.
Looking out the window, you point to a few people who are walking to their car, “people might see us.”
“Fuck,” his thumb and forefinger pinch your stiffened nipple through the fabric, “I want you.”
Grinning at him, the throb between your legs makes you clench your thighs together, “I want you too.”
Begrudgingly, he switches on the engine and drives onto the road. You can’t tear your eyes away from his posture, streetlights casting a glow on his features, flexed arm gripping the steering wheel.
“What are you thinking?”
Resting your hands in your lap, you shake you head, “nothing, you just look incredibly sexy when you drive.”
“Hand me your panties.”
“Hand me your panties, princess.”
His eyes stay on the road as he repeats his request, no, order. Your hands lay flat on your thighs, as if by his words, your undergarments would magically come off.
“I’m- I’m wearing shorts underneath my skirt.”
He turns onto his apartment street, “hand me those too then.”
“We’re almost-“
“I’m waiting, princess.”
Staring at the side of his face, you pull off the black shorts and place it in his awaiting palm, which closes twice to indicate that you aren’t done.
With flushed cheeks, you drop your white cotton panties into his hand. He hums and keeps it in his enclosed fist while you avert your gaze to the road.
Wordlessly, he parks your car and steps out. When you join him on the pavement, he grabs your hand and pulls you all the way up the stairs and in front of his apartment door. Your other hand holds the hem of your skirt down uselessly, you still feel the cold night air touch your soaking folds.
You’ve never been to his apartment before, you know he shares the place with Hoseok. But you don’t even have time to explore, he pulls you into the first room down the hallway and locks the door behind him. Hands on your hips, he pushes you down to sit on the bed then pulls off his jersey, skin glistening with sweat.
“I should shower, I’m sweaty.”
Shaking your head, your greedy hands smooth up his chest, “I’m sweaty too.”
He bends down and places a finger under your chin, lips hovering over yours, “I like you sweaty.”
Spreading your legs so he can fit between them, you pull him down with you on the bed, “me too.”
The kiss is all tongue and teeth, spit mixing when he swirls his tongue around yours, grunts coming from him when your twist your fingers in his hair. You feel his hand run up your inner thigh, arousal seeping out of you when he thrusts his tongue into your mouth. Suckling on his bottom lip, you moan when you feel a finger run up your slit, collecting your juices on the pads of his fingers.
Squirming under his weight, he breaks away from you, teeth tugging on your upper lip.
You sit up a bit as he pulls off your vest, sighing when you let your hair loose from the tight ponytail.
His eyes stay glued to your chest as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and once the material is nowhere in sight, his mouth is latched onto your nipple, hand coming up to pinch the other. He’s merciless with his tugs and suckles, teeth grazing your perked buds, cries of his name joining his satisfied sighs.
His hand continues with its ministrations, earning moan after moan when he begins to swirl his index and middle finger around your clit, his hand unseen as he works you under your skirt, your legs spreading wider.
Happy with the way your nipple turns a bright red as he tugs it between his lips, he moves on to the other, gaze locking with yours when he sticks his tongue out of his mouth and flicks the tip over your hardened bud, spit coating it, lapping and sucking, moaning like he’s the one being stimulated.
You feel his fingers prod at your entrance, his thumb pressing against your clit. He pushes two of his fingers inside your pulsating hole, his thumb flicking your clit from side to side, drawing moans from your swollen lips.
His mouth stays enclosed around your nipple and with a final nip, he moves up to suckle on the tops of your breasts, his fingers building a steady pace, your walls squeezing around him. Purple blooms on your supple skin, he seems proud of his work as he moves to your other breast, teeth sinking into the flesh, his tongue lapping at the skin to soothe the burn.
“You’re squeezing my fingers in,” he speaks against your body, hair sticking to his forehead, “so fucking tight.”
He picks up the pace, the sounds of squelching reaching your ears as he hooks his fingers on each push in, your hand flies down to grab his wrist when he touches the spot inside of you that has you twitching. Your dreams couldn’t compare to the sight of his flushed cheeks and glistening lips, fire swirling in his eyes.
“Fuck, right there, princess?”
Eyes closing, you nod, whimpering when he twists his fingers inside of you, his thumb moving languidly over your clit. You feel the pressure build, walls hugging his fingers with each drag and press.
He seems to notice, and he begins to kiss down your stomach, his head disappearing under your bothersome skirt.
His fingers still plunge into your sopping pussy, mewls tumbling from your lips with each thrust. The first swipe of his hot tongue has your back arching off the bed, high approaching a lot faster when he wiggles it against your clit.
“Yoongi, fuck.”
His other hand comes up to fondle your breasts, fingers massaging your walls, tongue curling around your clit. When his lips wrap around your pulsating bud, he suckles, thumb pressing down on your abused nipple, you cum, seeing stars behind your eyes, heat enveloping your body.
Chuckling tiredly, your hips move against his face to ride out your high.
When he reappears, his face is bright red, sweat collecting at his temples. You notice the purple marks that dust your chest, marks made by him.
He pulls down your skirt, you see his cock pressing against his shorts. Hand going down to rub his massive erection through the fabric, his eyes shut, grunting, leaning into your touch.
Sitting up, you push him down on the bed, pecking every inch of his skin. Holding eye contact, you curl your fingers around the edge of his shorts, licking your lips when his length springs free. He tangles his fingers in your hair, watching your every move.
“Y/N,” he rasps, “wanna fuck your tits.”
Gripping the base of his cock, your mouth falls open at his request. You’ve never done that before, your gaze flickers from his girthy length to his face.
Noticing your slightly puzzled expression, his thumb rubs your cheek, “get it nice and wet first, princess.”
Taking a deep breath, your lips hover over his dusty pink tip, he hisses when you squeeze a bit around the base. Tongue darting out, you massage the head with the wet muscle, spit trickling down his length.
“That’s it,” he bucks his hips, “spit on it.”
Gathering a pool of saliva, you purse your lips and let the liquid drip, fist pumping once to spread it all over his cock.
“Come on, Y/N,” he taps your cheek with his thumb, and you look up at him, the sight makes your breath hitch, his eyes are half-lidded, staring down at you, lips swollen.
“Spit on it.”
Shutting your eyes, you hold the tip to your mouth and let the spittle fly out of your mouth with a noisy sound, flattening out your tongue to lick the vein that runs on the side.
“Fuck yes, love it when you’re dirty for me.”
Moaning at his words, you wrap your lips around the head, sinking down, hollowing out your cheeks, taking him as far as you can before you’re pulling back, taking a deep breath, then sinking back down, his fingers tug at your strands, making you moan around his length.
Twisting the base, your tongue presses against the underside as you take each inch, his hips lift off the bed when you place your palms on his thighs and take him all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing around his length, breathing through your nose.
“Shit, fuck,” he yanks you up by your hair, away from his length, “you’re gonna make me cum, still wanna fuck those pretty tits.”
Wiping your chin with the back of your hand, you bite your lip at his words.
He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, your tongue traces his cupid’s bow, hands rubbing up and down his sides.
You adjust your position as you kneel in front of him, his cock slick with precum and saliva.
His hands smooth down your neck then to the sides of your breasts, keeping his gaze on your mounds, he pushes them together, thumbs rubbing over your nipples, still sore from his earlier attack.
“Keep them like that for me, princess.”
Obliging, you place your hands on either side of your breasts to keep them together while he pumps his cock, the slick sounds reaching your ears. Your eyes meet and he gestures for you to move closer. He places the head of his cock under your breasts and when it pushes through the top, he lets out a guttural moan, neck being exposed as he leans back on the bed, his palms holding him up.
Getting the gist, you move your breasts up and down over his length, seeing the slit dribble out precum, smearing over your skin. His groans of pleasure urge you to move faster, bouncing over his length, you press them together as much as you can, spitting down on his twitching cock.
“Fuck, Y/N, just like that, ah fuuuuck,” he slips down to his elbows, hips lifting up off the bed as he thrusts.
You don’t know where to look; his cock that’s fucking into your boobs or his expression of pure bliss.
Moving a little faster, your tongue darts out to split his slit on each thrust, tasting the salty beads that collected.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he paints your skin with white, gasping, some enters your mouth, some hits your chin. You slow your movements, stroking his softening dick as he gives you a fucked-out smile that has your cheeks flushing even more.
You don’t even have time to survey the mess before he’s pulling you up and wrapping his arms around your body. You feel sticky with sweat and cum.
“You have no idea…I wanted to do that for so long,” his hand runs down the back of your hair.
Your arms encircle his torso, still a little shocked at what just happened.
Min Yoongi is cuddling you, you’re cuddling him. Nuzzling into his chest, his sweet yet musty scent surrounds you. You grimace when you feel his cum drying on your chest.
“Yoongi,” he hums in answer, and you look up to see him almost dozing off.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall,” he mumbles.
Giggling at his sleepy state, you look around to find your clothes when you see a T-shirt of his hanging on a chair. Putting on the grey piece of clothing, you pad down the hall and head to the bathroom.
On your way back, you think he might be fast asleep with the way he lays motionless, blanket lifting with his steady breaths, until he speaks.
You see him pat the space next to him. Moving under the blankets, you push his hair away from his face, his eyes are still closed.
“Spend the night,” he slurs.
Settling next to him, you press your back to his chest, his arm wraps around your waist and tugs you closer.
“Goodnight,” you intertwine your fingers and bring your hands up to your lips, kissing the back of his hand.
He does the same, kissing the back of your hand, “goodnight.”
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You wake up the next morning, stomach crying for food.
Kissing Yoongi’s forehead, you take a moment to appreciate how cute he is as he sleeps, you’d never say it’s the same guy from last night with hungry touches and wild eyes. You fight the urge to pinch yourself, almost like you’re living a dream. Waking to Min Yoongi’s angelic face feels surreal to you. It felt impossible for the longest time.
As quiet as you can be, you open his room door and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you turn around the corner to find the kitchen, seeing Hoseok who is sitting at the table. You tug the hem of Yoongi’s shirt down when he looks up at you, crossing an arm over your chest.
“Hey, Y/N. OH! I’m not looking, I promise,” he spins around so his back is facing you while you walk further into the kitchen with heated cheeks.
“There’s coffee over there,” he points to the counter on the left, mugs next to the machine for convenience.
You fill a cup and sit on the other side of the table, sliding down a bit in the chair.
“You can…turn around now.”
You glance at him when he calls your name, feeling a little awkward in his presence. You hope you weren’t too loud last night.
“I’m happy for you and Yoongi.”
Your lips hover over the rim of the mug, feeling guilty for everything that happened between the two of you.
“You were Yoongi’s before I even knew you.”
You stare at him, eyes narrowing in confusion.
He shrugs, “Yoongi liked you way before I even knew you existed. I honestly didn’t know until recently.”
You listen to him, placing the mug on the table.
“If I had known…I’m just really mad at Suhee. She cheats on Yoongi then tries to win him back by telling him the truth. Like that’s going to solve anything.”
“The truth?”
“Yeah…She told Yoongi that you liked him from our first year, but she said she loves him now. Even though I saw Youngsik with her that same afternoon,” he scoffs.
That doesn’t surprise you at all, she will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Maybe she did love Yoongi? No. That can’t be. You’re faithful to the person you love.
“Anyway,” he drums his fingers on the table, “I have to be somewhere, I’ll see you guys later.”
His lips stretch, small dimples forming in his cheeks.
“Bye, Hobi…Thank you.”
He salutes, then steps out of the apartment.
You drain the mug and return to Yoongi’s room, seeing him sitting up with his back leaning on the headboard.
He smiles at you as you enter, his gaze lingering on your (his) T-shirt.
“Morning, princess.”
“Morning,” you smile, sitting down next to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, like this is completely normal, like you’ve been doing this for years.
“How did you sleep?”
You rest your cheek on his bare chest, “haven’t slept like that in years.”
“You look good wearing my T-shirt.”
Tilting your head, you place a kiss on his chin, “thank you.”
He clears his throat and takes both your hands in his, nudging you to sit up.
“I know it might seem a little too soon,” he begins, your eyes search his, “but I’ve had feelings for you since the first year.”
You grin, “I know.”
“Yes, and what I wanted to say is- I mean, what I wanted to ask…” He trails off. Your heart begins to race.
You poke his cheek, “go on~”
His thumbs rub the back of your hand, “will you be my girlfriend?”
Deciding to tease him as well as get a little clarification, you stare up at the ceiling, “weren’t you dating Ahn Suhee a week ago?”
“If you’re talking about Y/L/N Y/N’s best friend then yes, yes I was.”
“Former,” you correct.
“Right, right.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if he still has feelings for her.”
He shakes his head frantically, “none, none at all. Might seem hard to believe but when someone proves to be a terrible person, they make it easy to un-love them.”
You tap your chin.
“Is that a thing?”
“You know what I mean, Y/N!”
He tackles you and you yelp, falling back on the bed, your hair sprawled across the sheets.
Gazing into his black orbs, you lift a hand to cup his cheeks, checking if he’s real and not a figment of your imagination.
He places his hand over yours, “if you have doubts…then we can take it slow.”
You think about what that could mean, “take it slow?”
“Yes, princess. Take it slow, I don’t want to rush you into anything and fuck up this whole thing.”
“I don’t want to fuck it up,” you pout.
He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, “then we’ll take it slow, okay?”
His eyes stay glued to the way his thumb rubs on the flesh, “but right now…”
“Right now?”
You’re breathing a little heavier, seeing the lust-filled look in his eyes return.
“I want- no, I need to fuck you. Keep thinking about those pretty sounds you made.”
His gaze travels down to your clothed breasts, one of the bruises he made visible to his eyes.
“Want to make you mine, cover your body in this,” you hiss when he touches the sore spot.
Grabbing your waist, he pulls you onto his lap, his hands settle on your bare thighs, pushing the grey material up. The familiar thrill gathers between your legs, spread open and waiting. Memories from last night flood your mind, how he pleasured you, how good he made you feel, it all collects in your core, and you rock your hips against his bulge, whining when he doesn’t make a move, observing you.
“So needy for my cock,” he grips your hair harshly and captures your lips in a heated kiss, your hands smoothing up his shoulders to rest on his neck.
You feel his fingers tickle your inner thighs, ascending to your folds, he licks into your mouth as his tongue swipes up your folds, moaning as you jerk your hips forward wantonly.
Kissing down his jaw, your tongue traces the outer shell of his ear, hearing him gasp and press two fingers into you at once. You nip on his earlobe, mewling when he scissors your ridged walls, prepping you for his cock that presses into your thigh. Hard and throbbing, all for you.
He removes his fingers, and you watch as he pops them into his mouth, your pussy clenching involuntarily when he groans. Pushing you back down on the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, ravenous with the way he pulls off your shirt.
“Wanna eat you out,” he wraps his arms around your thighs, yanking you further down on the bed.
“Yoongi, I need you,” you sit up on your elbows, suckling on his neck, tongue darting out to lap at his Adam’s apple.
The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable, “want your-,” feeling a little shy despite being stark naked. He chuckles at your sudden change in character.
“Want my cock?”
You feel more of your juices leak out of you, his raspy chuckle sending tingles down your spine.
Nodding meekly, you wrap your legs around his waist and run your fingers through his hair, pushing him against the headboard, your nipples rubbing against his muscular chest.
One hand stays on your ass as he reaches over to pull out a condom from his nightstand, mind fogging up with desire, you had almost forgotten. He rolls the latex down his length and guides it through your folds, his hand squeezing your ass when you lift your hips and sink down inch by inch, burying your face in his neck.
“So fucking tight,” he grits out, your mouth hangs open, the tip reaching deep inside of you, you feel stuffed full with his cock.
He sinks his fingers into your hips and lifts you up, only for you slam back down, your moans muffled by his sloppy kisses.
He begins to thrust into you, knocking the air from your lungs while you sink your teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder, tears prickling your eyes with how good he’s stretching you out, how good it feels to have him massage your walls. He guides your body in time with his thrust, setting a pace that has you crying out, his cock brushing that spot with each drag.
The pull out of your walls seems electrifying, but each time, you change your mind when it pushes back in, your brain seems to short-circuit.
Body going limp in his hold, you let him guide you over his cock, panting and grunting, pressing into you, each lift of his hips, each rub of his cock has you close to unravelling and when he keeps himself buried deep inside of you and you roll your hips around, when he adds his thumb to your clit, flicking at break-neck speed, and leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth, you feel a wave of goosebumps prickle your skin, walls closing around him with a vicelike grip, you cum around his twitching length.
Spasming in his hold as you collapse onto his chest, he helps ride out your orgasm, riding out his own too. You’re unable to form a coherent thought, muttering ‘wow’ and ‘thank you’ as he pulls out of you and discards of the condom, using his grey shirt to wipe you down.
You feel a blanket being draped over your figure, sleep washing over you once again.
Mumbling, you don’t know what you might be saying. The last thing you see are two cat-like eyes blinking at you, and the last thing you hear, is an “I love you too.”
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a/n: feedback is appreciated.
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon
2K notes · View notes
bbtsficrecs · 4 months ago
BTS fanfic recs. part 1
This is a list of bts fanfics that I highly recommend! Don’t you worry, more members will be added along the way. If you ever wanna talk about one of the fanfics or recommend me one, hit me up! Remember to send some love to these amazing authors. Please let me know if some of the links don’t work. Happy reading!
Part 2 will be uploaded soon, so be sure to follow me for the next recommendations!
Disclaimer: if this post seems familiar it’s because I had to move blogs and repost everything 🥲
Part 2 ♡
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Evolution of a lovers heart (fluff, angst) 1, 2, 3, 4 (ongoing) | Fuckboy!AU, +55,5k The rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.
Inkling (smut, angst) | TattooArtist!AU, 17,7k Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?
Pretty boy (smut, fluff) | Friends to secret lovers, 4k He’s just a pretty boy, a pretty boy ~ you wanna be his pretty toy.
The likelihood of being on your mind (fluff, angst) | Childhood friends to lovers, 18,2k You don’t think about Jeon Jungkook that often, but when you do, it’s always followed by feelings of antipathy. and really, why think of him when you could be thinking about soccer captain, Kim Seokjin instead? You have your heart set on Seokjin. There is nothing you want more than to make him yours. But of course, Jungkook has to throw a wrench in it.
The bet (smut) | Boyfriend!AU, 2,7k How a bet turned into public sex
On call 1, 2 (smut, humor) | Strangers to lovers, 9,6k After a catastrophic first date, you end up leaving the hospital angry, tired and date-less. Hoping to have a drink or five, you end up in a nearby bar, sitting next to the same doctor who caught your eye earlier.
Cockblocked (smut, fluff) | Roomates!AU, 15,8k In which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; “you’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”
Everything I ever wanted (fluff) Cockblocked drabble | Roomates!AU, 780 In which you get caught slipping out of Jeongguk’s bedroom.
Hurts good (smut, fluff, angst) | Idol!AU, 3,3k Jungkook stands you up after promising to take you out. You’re pissed at him but he makes up for it in all the right ways.
Only mine (smut, fluff?) | Jealousy!AU, 5,1k In which Jungkook gets jealous
Too late (angst) | Divorce!AU His sexual attraction had taken his attention away from the woman he should’ve stayed with forever and his urges ruined his marriage that was perfectly fine, and although the newly-found pleasure is euphoric… he can’t help but feel guilty.
Not too late? (angst) | Divorce!AU
Dilf Jungkook (smut) | Husband!AU The grocery store girl hits on your husband.
Dilf Jungkook part 2 (smut, crack) | Husband!AU New parents jk & you’s sex life isn’t at all what it used to be, so when the opportunity presents itself, you grab it.
The art of wanting (smut) | Strangers to lovers, 10,3k You find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you.
Over the edge (smut) | Boyfriend!AU, 9,1k So, you’re dating. everything is dandy, the sex is knocking your socks off, but what happens when you get in the First Real Fight?
Morning games (smut) | Non-Idol!AU, 4k In which you want Jungkook back in bed  
Dude (fluff) | Boyfriend!AU, 400 Jungkook hates the new petname you’ve given him.
The philosophy of good luck (smut, fluff) | TattooArtist!AU, 7k “you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.
Swipe right (smut, fluff, angst) | Best friends to lovers, 9k After a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, Jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?
Departure (smut, fluff) | Pilot!AU, 6,2k As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.
Strings attached (fluff, smut) | Idol!AU, 4,4k Jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.    
Snowy hills (fluff, angst) | Surgeon!AU, 3,9k it was supposed to be a normal night, so you could only imagine Jungkook’s surprise when he saw you being wheeled in on a stretcher.
Ruin the friendship (smut, fluff) | Best friends to lovers, 8k Your drunk ass best friend keeps calling you to take care of him and it wouldn’t be so awful, if it weren’t for The Feelings.
Please love me 1, 2, 3 (angst, fluff, smut) | Arranged married, 47,9k As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Let the games begin (smut, fluff) | Gamer!AU, 5,7k Just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair
Baby I don’t feel so good (angst, fluff) | Idol!AU You didn’t mean to miss the award show, but by god you were sick as hell. and you didn’t mean to miss all of his phone calls and texts, but how were you to reply when you were passed out in the bed with a headache and fever?
In your eyes (smut, angst, fluff) | Fratboy!AU, 10,6k Jungkook always sees you like the only girl in the world, and you just see him as a fuckboy. OR Jungkook just wants a chance.
Stranded (smut, fluff, angst) | Enemies to lovers, 13k Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.
Waking up en Vegas (fluff, smut) | Brothers best friend, 3,1k You know what they say. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas.  but, what happens when you accidentally marry your brother’s best friend? Hidden away (angst) | Hanahaki!AU When it’s too late
A little stand never hurt anyone (smut, angst) | Best friends to lovers, 12,5 Happy anniversary! Oh wait, it’s just a friendship anniversary. You and Jungkook decide to dedicate your anniversary day to each other by visiting the beach and its shops. Luckily for you and Jungkook, you find a secluded spot on the beach that allows you plenty of privacy.
Switch lanes (fluff, smut, angst) | Strangers to lovers, 16,6k In which being friends with benefits with Taehyung lead you to Jungkook.
Broken trust (angst) | Breakup!AU In which you gave him three chances.
Don’t lie to me (angst) | Breakup!AU In which you were a bet.
Photographs (angst, fluff) | Relationship!AU In which you show Jungkook that you love him.
Sex education (fluff, smut) | Brothers best friend, 12k “You want me to… what?” Jungkook chokes on his croissant, and how could he fucking not, with you looking at him with those pleading eyes, asking for something that he knows would get him into jail. Well, maybe not like actual jail. But definitely the Bro Code Jail. The jail where only bros who broke the Bro code went to.
Sex education 2.0 (smut, angst, fluff) | Brothers best friend, 9k “Are you calling me boring?” Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.“First of all, don’t talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all,” you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook’s expectant eyes on you. “A little, yeah.“
It takes two (smut, angst, fluff) | Soulmates!AU, 21,1k Uncertainty always lingered where soulmates’ souls bonded. You didn’t understand, and when he walked down the isle, you understood even less.
Hot boy bummer (smut, angst, fluff) | Fuckboy!AU, 14,6k When Jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
A quarter past us (fluff, angst) | Exes to lovers, 13,8k When you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer.
Concrete king (fluff, smut) | Skaterboy!AU, 16,7k When a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could you ever say no to him.
This kingdom 1, 2  (smut) | Gamer!AU In some cases, hate and love are the same thing. Or, in this specific case, hate and overwhelming, breathless, mind-blowing lust. And it all started because you were better at League of Legends than Jeon Jungkook.
Oops (smut, fluff) | Strangers to lovers, 6k You don’t know who the wonderful voice singing in the shower is, but you need to know
(Un)welcomed Addition (fluff, angst) | Fuckboy!AU, 9k After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.
The Push (smut, fluff, angst) | College!AU, 11k In which you go from being friends to lovers
Bad habits (smut, angst) | Fuckboy!AU, 5,5k “Tell me something,” he spoke. “Do you want this - us? You said you didn’t know what to call us but I want to give you a name.”
Banana milk (smut) | Strangers to lovers, 6,7k Sent to the grocery store in the middle of the day, you’d never believe who you ran into in the milk aisle.
Pushing you away (angst, fluff) Where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone
Somnolent (fluff) | Roomates!AU, 3,5k After spending one night in bed with you, Jeongguk finds out he is unable to sleep unless you’re sleeping with him.
Kind like you (smut, angst, fluff) Jungkook dearly wants to be kind like you. He wants to be so sweet, and gentle, and soft like you’re with him all the time; yet all he does is tease and pick on you, it seems.
Come here I’m your paradise (smut, fluff) | Honeymoon!AU, 4,8k In which you’re on your honeymoon.
Canceled (smut) | College!AU, 6,4k Jungkook has a passion for camo pants, science, and debating with strangers on the internet. Usually, he wins arguments, but when you show up in the comment section of one of his his blog posts, shit goes down and he’s left wanting more than a virtual conversation.
All over you 1, 2, 3, 4 (smut, angst, fluff) | College!AU, 6,4k You don’t usually go for the quiet, nerdy type, but Jungkook’s by far the best looking guy in your year. You just can’t help yourself. You have to have him. Small hiccup; he hates you.
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The other women (angst) | Cheating!AU, 1,6k Where you the other women?
One Way Ticket (fluff) | Relationship!AU, 4k Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.
Last night (angst) | Friends to ?, 1,2k “I’ve been in love with you since forever Taehyung and I’m pretty sure you knew about it, given how perfectly not-slick I was about it.“
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Step up (or step out) (angst, fluff) | New parents!AU, 3,5k The few first months are always hard on new parents, but Yoongi didn’t expect it to be this bad. He didn’t expect you to consider walking out on him.
27 phone numbers (smut, angst) Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school.
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Wrecked (angst) | Breakup!AU, 1,3k Months after your break up, just before a performance, Jimin finds out that you’re seeing someone new through Instagram. His group mates pick up the pieces after that.
1K notes · View notes
suga-kookiemonster · 4 days ago
Happy Ho-lidays!
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Ho ho ho, could this be true? @floralseokjin @suga-kookiemonster @sugaurora @underthejoon @winetae @btssavedmylifeblr and @kpopfanfictrash with presents for you! Take some time to unwind, and sneak a peek at what's stuffing your stocking 😉
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Winter Solace by @floralseokjin
Pairing⇢ Kim Seokjin x Reader
Summary⇢ After a difficult few months (and years), a fresh start in a new city is both equal parts thrilling and terrifying, but you’re determined to make it work. It’s just you and your dog-sized cat Nox, ready to take on the world. Of course along the way there are ups, and there are downs. The main down being you’re short on cash after the big move, unable to spend Christmas with your family. The main up is your kind and thoughtful neighbour who offers to celebrate the holiday with you, despite not being a fan of it himself…
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This Christmas by @suga-kookiemonster
Pairing⇢ Min Yoongi x Reader
Summary⇢ it's been a while since you've been home for the holidays, but this year, you finally plan on rectifying that. things are going well for you—great job, great friends, and a new boyfriend who you have a pretty great feeling about—and it seems everything in your life is finally slotting into place. but, of course, the past is a relentless specter and the universe always has a way of humbling you. in a ridiculous twist of fate, you soon find yourself stuck in a car with the very reason you have avoided coming back in the first place.
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A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays by @sugaurora
Pairing⇢ Jung Hoseok x Reader
Summary⇢ Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, talent agent for some of the most well-loved adult entertainment actors of the era. And that’s how you became an industry darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.
Six years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with a massive holiday party at your home. Only your new neighbor gets an accidental invite and when he arrives you find yourself standing face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.
What’s a former porn star to do?
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All Wrapped Up by @underthejoon
Pairing⇢ Kim Namjoon x Reader
Summary⇢ All is currently Merry and Bright in your very secret, very sexy little bubble with Namjoon. But with the holidays on the horizon and the annual friends trip to his family’s cabin fast approaching, the pressure to DTR is at an all time high. Will you meet Namjoon under the mistletoe and finally out your fling to your friends? Or will your case of cold feet ruin the good thing you’ve got going?
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ANTIFREEZE by @winetae
Pairing⇢ Park Jimin x Reader
Summary⇢ ‘Don’t sleep with your dance partners.’
For three years, Jimin has followed the above rule religiously. Who knew it would take a vengeful ex, a Christmas fundraiser, and a pair of torn tights for his resolve to crumble?
alternatively, Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute
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A Christmas Carol in Itaewon by @btssavedmylifeblr
Pairing⇢ Kim Taehyung x Reader
Summary⇢ Finding yourself alone and far from home on Christmas Eve, you are haunted by three spirits. But the real ghost from your past is your childhood sweetheart turned famous actor, Kim Taehyung.
(Ft. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon as the ghosts of christmas past, present, and future)
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A Holiday Snowdown by @kpopfanfictrash
Pairing⇢ Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Summary⇢ The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that's what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents' idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jeon Jungkook himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation's sweetheart. What's the problem? You happen to have met Jeon Jungkook before, and sincerely hoped you'd never see him again.
960 notes · View notes
balenciaguks · a month ago
diamonds are a girls best friend | myg | part 1
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》 pairing: best friends dad yoongi x f!reader
》 genre: smut, fluff, angst, three-shot, hidden relationship
》 word count: 7.4k
》 rating: 21+ for explicit smut
》 summary: you know it's wrong. so wrong. there's a saying that goes around - "if you can't tell your best friend about it, then you probably shouldn't be doing it” but when what you shouldn't be doing is your best friend's ridiculously hot and wealthy dad, just how do you say no to that.
》 warnings: forbidden romance, sneaking around? , dom!yoongi, sub!reader, age gap, ugh our lil couple is stupidly in lurv, lots of kissing, lots of hiding, love bites, sucking and biting, our yoongi gets off on being caught sO - exhibitionist yoongi in the form of changing room sex, fingering in a cafe bathroom, unprotected sex, shower sex, overstimulation.
》 a/n: biggest thanks to @kithtaehyung for making this lovely banner , its absolutely stunning. also to @sugasbabiie​ & @knjsnoona​ for being a wonderful betas, @ressjeon for being a supportibe hoe & @kimtaehyunq​ for being my whole rock n allowing me to stress over this as well as betaing too - i love u ♡
》 listen to - higher
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Yoongi kisses the back of your shoulders as his fingers grace lightly over your damp skin; the back of his calloused hands caressing up and down your arm softly before turning you around and pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss full of lust and want. 
His large hands skim over your soft skin and grip your hips, squeezing tightly, almost as if to tell you that he is still here with you. You wrap your arms around his neck and allow him to hoist you up, pressing your back against the cold tiles behind you as your legs wrap around his hips and lock your ankles around his slender waist, encouraging him to make his next move. 
“You’re such a tease, pretty girl. Leaving me waiting in a changing room for, what, fifteen minutes?” He moans against your mouth, tugging on your bottom lip and suckling the skin gently before pulling and letting it go. “You should know by now I’m not a patient man.” 
Breaking the kiss, Yoongi starts to trace warm, open mouthed kisses down your neck towards the column of your throat. As he finds your sweet spot in between the junction between your neck and shoulder, you moan at the sensation of Yoongi sucking and biting lilacs and rose blossom marks into your skin before skimming over them with his tongue.
Words are lost on you - all you could do is moan out pathetically at the attention you’re receiving. The small space is getting harder to see with the hot steam clouding your sight. One hand finds the back of Yoongi’s neck and tugs on his ebony hair, allowing his head to snap up to look you in the eyes, “J-just fuck me, Yoongi, please,” you plead.
Yoongi doesn’t waste another moment as he kisses you again, and he grips his cock in his hand and aligns it with your pussy before sliding all the way in one fluid motion, causing your back to arch in his arms against the tiled wall. Giving you a moment to adjust, Yoongi trailed his lips from your mouth and along your jaw before kissing up to your ear, his teeth nipping at the sensitive lobe. The breathy sounds only add to the slick in your cunt.
“Move,” you moan out, your voice breathless and airy. Yoongi pulls out, leaving just the head in before thrusting all the way back in. You gasp out at the impact, followed by a series of moans and whines as Yoongi captures your left nipple between his teeth, suckling the sensitive bud into his mouth, before pulling away with an obscene groan of his own.
“Gotta be quiet in here, baby.” Yoongi grunts, punctuating his words with never ending hard thrusts into your pussy, head falling forward onto your shoulder as his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. “You never know who’s around.”
Your pussy clenches at his words; the thrill of being caught in a public place is one thing, but the thought of being caught somewhere public with a man you shouldn’t be  with was another. You lower your head towards his shoulder and leave open mouthed kisses on his skin in desperation. The shower water does somewhat of a job of concealing both of your moans. 
“Gonna c-cum Yoongi,” you whimper. 
“Me too baby, won’t last much longer. 
Yoongi sighs in euphoria as he brings one hand up to knead your right tit while his tongue swirls and sucks the left one, worshipping every inch of your body. Yoongi keeps up his pace to get you to your release first, a true gentleman. Moving his hand back to your ass, he curves his fingers into your skin, leaving small, barely visible crescent shapes with his small nails as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly. 
Yoongi can always tell when you’re near your release as you clench your warm inner walls around his cock repeatedly as he never falters while piledriving you into the wall. Your head falls back as you clench around him one more time.
“I’m comi-!” 
Yoongi cuts you off with a kiss to mask the volume of your moans. Your eyes snap shut, white spots appear in the inside of your closed lids as your second orgasm washes over you with immense power. The climax is stronger than you initially thought as you feel wetness all along the inside of your thighs before being washed away by the water from the overhead shower hose.
With a few more erratic thrusts into your creamy cunt, Yoongi seizes and holds you up with every bit of strength in him he has left. With help from the wall and your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he relishes in the
sweet bliss of release overcoming him like a freight train.
Yoongi looks down to where your bodies meet, watching the way his cock throbs as he releases inside of you. It's been a while since he's filled you up like this. He rides out his orgasm slowly, sliding in and out of you, admiring the way his load puddles at your entrance.
You both stay there together, neither of you moving as you allow the post orgasm feelings to fade away. His cock still nestled inside your pussy with nothing but sounds of the shower above you pitter pattering on your hot bodies and down to the porcelain flooring.
“I better go,” Yoongi is the first to speak as he begins to pull his softening cock from you. “Got to get home and see Yoon-ah. Let her know I’ve arrived home.” He goes to grab at his robe hanging against the hook on the outer wall away from the wet inside.
At the mention of your best friend's name, you suck in your bottom lip as you lower your head, trying not to let the guilt wash over you so intensely.
Nodding in understanding of his current predicament, you stay quiet. Deep down, you know he should have really gone to see her first after he’d arrived home from his business trip overseas. But instead, you were the one that had received a text to let you know that he was on his way over to the country club where you waitress and had insisted you let him know your clock off time before he whisked you down into the mens changing room before fucking you against the lockers and then for round two in the shower.
Shutting off the water stream, you step out of the warmth and watch as goose bumps find home on your skin. Yoongi, already dressed, hands you a towel to wrap around yourself so the cold air doesn’t evade you too heavily. You wipe away at your eyes as unshed tears start to gather at your lash line.
“Oh, before I forget,” Yoongi bends down and rummages through the small outside pocket of his luggage, “I brought you something, petal.”
The nickname makes you smile and forget all about the tears threatening to spill before seeing him pull out a small bag with a white silk lace ribbon tied elegantly at the top.
You take the bag from Yoongi and notice the weight of it - it feels luxurious, almost weighing your hand down. You pull at the ribbon before dipping your hand in, feeling something at the bottom. Grasping at the object, you pull it out the ___ and look at the box. It is large, taking up the whole circumference of your palm, red and made entirely from velvet and delicately tied with another white ribbon. The box is expensive.
You look back at Yoongi, who all of a sudden is looking like a shy teenager and not like the thirty eight year old man that just fucked you for two rounds in one of the most public places there is to offer at your place of work. His eyes are set on you.
“Yoongi, you didn’t,” you murmur, biting nervously at your lip.
“Open it,” he encourages with a soft smile.
Pulling at the second bow, you let it fall to your feet as you crack open the box. Dazzling right before your eyes is the most beautiful diamond necklace you have ever seen. It was utterly mesmerising. The circumference of the chain on the necklace is encrusted with small diamonds, which when catching the light above you, twinkle brighter than any star you’ve witnessed in the black night sky, and dotting little pearls in between the diamonds before descending into a drizzle of more teardrop gems and flower shaped white diamonds. 
“It’s an Italian white gold Trillium Akoya pearl and white diamond necklace,” Yoongi grins.
You look back at Yoongi before turning toward the jewellery again and back up at Yoongi. “Yoongi, I - I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can, pretty.” Yoongi takes the box out of your hands and gestures for you to turn around towards the mirror. The steam has already cleared from the glass, and you admire the reflection of the man before you.
His damp skin is pale and has rivulets of water trickling down his face and down his neck, as they dampen the collar of his shirt. His skin is that kind of fair complexion that makes him look radiant and glowy with cheeks painted a pretty pink - either from two rounds of sex or from gifting his woman such a rare piece of jewellery. 
Maybe both.
Yoongi takes the necklace out of the box and gently places it on your skin. You lift your hair up out of the way of the clasp before he locks it securely in place. You allow your hair to drop as you look back at yourself in the mirror. 
The necklace glistens like crystal snow on an early crisp winter morning and shimmers brighter than the moonbeam across dark waters. It is simply gorgeous.
Yoongi goes back to kissing your bare shoulders as he did earlier. “I knew it,” he whispers against your skin.
Dropping your head back, you moved your eyes from the necklace and up to Yoongi through the mirror. 
“What is it?” You question.
“I just knew you would make the jewels look priceless.”
Turning yourself around, you drop your towel in the process and press your bare chest up against Yoongi again. You reach up and lock your hands behind the nape of his neck and pull him down towards your lips, kissing him tenderly with a smile spread across your face. 
“Thank you.”
He pulls your body closer to him and smiles into the kiss. “You’re welcome,” he whispers against your lips. “Get your stuff, I’ll take you home,” he offers to you as he gives you one last peck, reluctantly pulling away. 
The drive back home isn’t a long distance from the country club. It is filled with a comfortable silence, broken ever so softly by the instrumental music playing out of the stereo speakers. Yoongi places one hand on the wheel whilst the other is placed on top of your bare thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb, occasionally giving the flesh a squeeze - Yoongi’s own way of making sure you were still with him. You find yourself passing the time daydreaming out the window of Yoongi’s luxurious classic Rolls-Royce.
You can’t help but reflect on the situation you find yourself in. You didn’t ever imagine you would be sneaking around and hiding the only relationship you ever had from the public eye. If anybody finds out about what goes on behind closed doors, everything for you would simply be ruined.
It was never meant to be this way. Sure, you had always found him attractive; but it was never meant to turn out like this.
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You met Min Yoon-ah on your first day Senior year at university, becoming acquainted after finding out she would be your roommate for the next year. Your friendship quickly blossomed from acquaintances to best friends.
You did everything together. Where there was you, Yoon-ah was never too far away and vice versa. It was only natural that during the holidays, she would invite you to her parents' lake house lodge for a long weekend away from the bustling city during the winter break before university started again.
That was the first time you met Min Yoongi.
As the car you’ve been transported in from the airport arrives outside of the lodge, you see a man who you can only presume is Yoon-ah’s father standing out in the snow at the front door awaiting the arrival of his baby daughter. He opens the door and helps Yoon-ah out and then begins the task of grabbing both you and Yoon-ah’s bags from the trunk of the car. You used the time to take in his features.
His cheeks look soft, puffy in the healthiest of ways. A tinge of red was present on his cheeks as the cold nips at his porcelain skin. It suits him. And then his lips? You can’t take your eyes off them. They’re pretty and pink, full and moist from his tongue reaching out and soaking the skin.
Finishing with unpacking the cases from the trunk, Yoongi is caught off guard by his daughter jumping into his arms, a clear indication of how much she missed her father. “Dad!” Yoon-ah yells, “I’ve missed you,” she hugs him tight. You can't help but notice the way he envelopes her, his strength as one arm wraps tightly around her frame.
He gasps in surprise, letting out a small chuckle before closing his eyes. “I missed you too, sweetie,” Yoongi replies.
Yoongi opens his eyes a second later, noticing you standing there awkwardly waiting to be introduced. “This is your friend, I presume?”
Yoon-ah removes herself and runs over to you, grasping at your wrist and pulling you across to formally introduce you to her daddy.
“Dad, this is ___. ___, this is my dad, Min Yoongi”, Yoon-ah introduces joyfully. 
You stand there for a moment, not able to move your feet, convinced the snow has iced over and has you trapped as you stand there staring at him up close. This time you were able to see his eyes clearly.
And, oh, his eyes. Stories can be written about his eyes. You can tell they hold so much wisdom. They're the eyes of a man who has lived and who is currently living. Dark brown irises mixed with specks of gold whenever they caught the LED lights above, reminding you of a clear night where constellations ignited the midnight sky. A welcoming sanctuary of warmth within twilight eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” you begin first with a smile, holding your hand out in respect for the elder, trying to break the ice between you two.
Yoongi takes your cold hand in his own. His large hands are warm and envelope yours almost completely. The pads of his fingers are soft against your skin. 
“Pleasure is all mine ___. Please come in, make yourself at home.”
Taking in your surroundings, you soon realise that the lodge is situated within a community of holiday homes, tucked away in the heart of a beautiful and scenic national park. Freshly laid snow blanketing everything around you. Of all the lodges, you notice Yoongi’s is deemed the most lavish. The biggest throughout the community, set among soaring cliffs and the clear cascading waterfalls.
The exterior of the lodge is stunning. Made of what you can only assume is Bocote Wood, one of the most expensive woods on the market and circular pillar columns stand tall and proud on the outside, each one delicately wrapped in Scotch pine, glitter tinsel and warm yellow fairy lights. It is cosy and inviting, as if it soaked all the golden energy from the sun itself and sank it deep into its walls.
The weekend is exactly what you and Yoon-ah need to take your mind away from classes, exams and written thesis’. The stress of school work is replaced with ski slopes, snowboarding, revitalising spa body treatments and lavish dinner reservations, all paid for courtesy of Mr Min.
By Saturday night, Yoon-ah was feeling the exertion from the last two days and decided on an early night after returning home from another wonderful hog roast dinner. She disappears up to her bedroom upstairs for the remainder of the evening, leaving you and Yoongi alone together.
“Dinner was lovely Mr Min, thank you.”
“My pleasure. I know how hard the two of you have been working this semester, you both deserve the time off,” He smiles. “You two seem to really be close. Yoon-ah never had many female friends growing up,” he trails off.
“Yeah. I’m lucky to have her. I wouldn’t have been able to get through it all without her,” Yoongi stares at you as you speak, holding up and silently offering you a glass of Dom Pérignon Rosé Champagne. You nodded in confirmation. There’s nothing wrong with a glass between adults, you think.
Yoongi opens up a cabinet, grabs two crystal flutes and walks towards the sliding doors towards the outdoors. “C’mon, we’ll take it onto the porch. Bring a blanket with you.”
Making yourself comfortable, you can’t help but admire him. The skin on his cheeks is the softest white, ethereally glowing from the flecks of oranges from the burning pit in front of you.
Throughout the evening, you find it very easy to speak to Yoongi. He asks about you all night and easily involves himself in asking you about your life. He seems very interested in getting to know you as a person too and not just as a college student. He knows all the right things to ask and when to ask it as well as knowing when to stop and let words run away with you.
You ask about him too. You learn that he was a Turnaround Specialist, meaning he would buy failing companies and businesses for less than their value, restructure them and then sell them in parts at a higher price. You learn he is also in the middle of a divorce, and that he had met his soon-to-be ex in high school. They married when she fell pregnant with Yoon-ah, he was young at the time. You learn he loves music and food and travel. That he also has an older brother and that they were born into near poverty. Yoongi had graduated college once he had Yoon-ah and found himself a job where he realised he had an edge for sales. When he combined his talent in sales with his Business Degree, Yoongi saw more riches as the years went by, eventually creating an empire of his own. There is something very wholesome about watching Yoongi talk about being able to support his family.
Over the course of the evening, you are unaware of just how close you both had gotten. The mixture of expensive champagne and gentle laughter over sentimental conversations has drawn you closer to each other. Yoongi is running his fingers up and down the expansion of your blanketed arm, unable to keep his eyes off of you.
Staring into his eyes, specks of orange-gold entwined with his dark pupils, flickering before you as you began to really feel the heat from the fire pit beside you. It wasn’t long before you find yourself removing yourself from your spot and into the arms of Yoongi as you straddle yourself on top of his lap and lean in to press your lips to his in a tipsy haze. 
Realising that Yoongi isn’t reciprocating, you pull yourself away from him, your hands still pressed to his chest, fearing that you have read the situation all wrong and you have crossed boundaries you are never meant to consider. 
The sudden realisation of what you had just done flashes by your eyes and you begin to panic. What the hell are you thinking? This isn’t good. God, no, this is catastrophic. 
This is your best friend’s Dad. You just kissed your best friend's dad.
As you begin to climb off him, Yoongi grips the back of your neck and pulls you back in and crashes his lips against yours. It is hot and passionate. Your mind turns into a sensual state of intoxicating bliss. Leaning into the kiss, one of your hands cradles Yoongi’s face as the other finds the hair at the nape of his neck and tugs on it causing a grunt to slip from Yoongi’s mouth. You moan in response as he opens the seam of your mouth with his tongue and slips in, tasting the remains of your strawberry gloss and fruity champagne.
Detaching from your lips, Yoongi kisses along your jaw, reaching up to your earlobe and catching it between his teeth. The breathy moan he releases causes a swelling feeling in your lower half and you feel yourself getting increasingly wetter the longer the man was lavishing you with attention. He continues his ministrations, placing chaste open mouth kisses along your neck, occasionally placing small bites but careful enough to not leave any lasting marks on your skin.
You shiver, unsure if it’s the cold nipping away at you or the gentle skimming mixed with the warmth of air from his nose against your throat as he continues to press delicate wet kisses from your ear to your shoulders. You bare more of your neck allowing his tongue to lick up the column of your throat. Your whimpering gets the better of you as Yoongi snakes a hand up and places his hand over your mouth gently - a silent plea to stay quiet so as to not wake up his daughter.
“Shh, gotta be quiet princess,” you hear him whisper against your skin
All coherent thoughts of your best friend now in the back of your mind as you reach to fumble with the buttons of his crisp white Gucci dress shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin beneath you.
Yoongi is quick to stop your hands from unbuttoning any more of the fabric, and pulls away from your neck shaking his head. Taking this as another rejection, you lowered your head. Yoongi takes notice and chuckles breathlessly before tilting your chin with his index finger and softly kisses your lips, “Just, not here princess” he whispers before pointing up in direction to the upper floor of the lodge where Yoon-ah is fast asleep. “My room. It’s at the other end of the building.” You nod and allow Yoongi to take your hand and lead you towards his own room.
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“We’re home,” you are knocked out of your daydream but the dulcet tone of Yoongi’s voice.
“You’re home now,” he repeats himself, pointing at your apartment building.
Readjusting your eyes, you take in the view of your neighbourhood. How long had you zoned out for?
“Thank you, again you didn’t have to drop me off, I could have taken the train. I appreciate it,” you turn and give him a small smile as you begin to unbuckle your belt. “Do you - do you want to come inside for a little bit?” You ask a little selfishly.
With both hands gripping at the steering wheel of the car, it looks like Yoongi is having an internal battle with himself. “Ah I would love too but I really should get going. Yoon-ah is back at the house so I want to catch her before she falls asleep,” he looks at you with sorrow, “I want to surprise her that I’m back early.”
“Yeah,” you trail off, “probably for the best now that I actually think about it.”
As you reach for the door, Yoongi quickly unbuckles his own seatbelt and reaches over the middle console, placing his hand behind your head and pulls you down half way to meet his lips and quickly kisses you. You moan at the sudden contact, kissing back with just as much want but before it ignites away fire and spirals out of control, Yoongi pulls away first and leans his forehead against your own as the sweet fruity perfume you’re doused in invades his space. “Goodnight, pretty,” he speaks before pulling away again.
Getting out of the car, the cold wind of the night stings at your bare skin as you watch Yoongi drive away.
You managed to make it through the front door of your apartment, pulling your shoes off as your feet meet the cold laminate flooring of your hallway. You decide it's best to get yourself ready for bed and curl up into a cosy concoction of warmth and comfort.
Grabbing your phone, you aimlessly go through the same apps hoping something interesting would allow your mind to drift away. With no luck, you start to wander through your picture gallery, taking a trip down memory lane as you view pictures of you and your friends before stumbling across an array of pictures of yourself and Yoon-ah. You smile at the memories on the screen before the evading thoughts of how much of a shitty friend you’re being makes its way into your mind.
Before you place your phone down and call it a night, the familiar text alert tone fills the air.
You know he’s home.
If only she knew.
11:45pm [to bestie ♡] : oh he is? that is such a wonderful surprise. breakfast sounds lovely. our usual spot at 10am? can't wait to hear the news. <3
Another text alert. 
11:47pm [from ygm 💎] : Just home. Sweet dreams princess. Xx
11:48pm [to ygm 💎] : sweet dreams, yoon. Xx
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9.56am. You arrive with minutes to spare. Entering the little cafe, your senses immediately take in the sweet aromas of caramel coffee syrups and breakfast foods. Looking around, you find Yoon-ah sitting in your usual spot, a booth tucked away in the corner of the cafe but still close enough to the window to allow some natural sunlight to seep through the window and keep you warm. It is nice to people watch from here too - a pastime you both typically find yourself enjoying.
Making your way across the establishment, your eyes move from Yoon-ah’s to find someone next to her, hidden in the furthest corner of the booth. Now standing at the edge of the booth, you find that it isn’t just someone. That someone is Yoongi.
Your eyes bulge out when you take note of him sitting right next to his daughter, meaning the only seat left for you was facing directly towards the both of them. Sliding into the booth, you fight against yourself to show any emotion on your face. Maybe a bit of surprise making its way across your face.
“___, hey! You look good, you’re practically glowing,” she starts as she gets up and wraps her arms around you in a tight hug. “New moisturiser? No wait, you exfoliated last night huh? You know I always tell you how good it is to look after yourself now and then right,” Yoon-ah lists off.
You giggle nervously, “no, none of tha-”
“Wait, I got it! That’s a sex glow. You got laid last night didn’t you?” She screeches as the conservative elders start to turn around and stare you all down at the corner of no shame at the back of the cafe.
The sound of Yoongi spluttering on his coffee in the background breaks you out of your state of embarrassment. With rosy red creeping onto your cheeks, you grab hold of Yoon-ah’s arm and drag her to sit back down. “Yoon-ah, you can’t just shout that in the midst of the public; especially in front of your dad,” you state.
“Oh please, he’s not even listening,” you raise your eyebrow at your best friend whilst taking a sip on the mimosa she had pre-ordered for your arrival. Really? Isn’t listening? Is she even at the same table?
“You never mentioned you were seeing someone. I need to know everything. Was it good? Are you seeing him again? Does he have a big dick?” 
It was your turn to choke on your drink this time - eyes bulging out their sockets at the forwardness of Yoon-ah in front of her dad. Your eyes turn to Yoongi, noticing his eyes are now fully on you, a sneaky grin set on his face as his tongue appears from out his mouth to wet the corner of his mouth.
Shaking your head, “not now, Yoon-ah.”
Yoongi places his cell away in his pocket, smirk still playing on his lips. “It’s fine ___, you can answer her. It isn’t like it isn’t anything I haven’t heard before anyway.” 
That son of a bitch. 
Yoon-ah laughs at your absentmindedness from Yoongi’s comment. 
“Ignore him, we can talk about it later,” she winks in your direction. How is she not aware of anything? “But there is a reason I wanted to see you this morning,” she reminds you, “kinda why he’s here,” Yoon-ah points out in a sarcastic manner, with her thumb in the direction of her dad.
At the mention of his name, Yoongi sits up straight in preparation for the conversation ahead. He turns his body slightly towards Yoon-ah, letting his body rest on the wall behind him and his arm snake up against the plush white backrest of the booth seat. Taking a good long sip of the black coffee in front of him, Yoongi decides to uncross his legs underneath the dining table in search of your own foot and starts rubbing against it with his own, initiating footsie.
You stare at Yoongi from the corner of your eye, feigning your complete attention to Yoon-ah as she keeps rambling on about something, to see he is giving you a daring stare with his beautiful dark eyes.
“My dad has some upcoming events in Paris with some businesses he has been working with and blah blah blah,” Yoon-ah starts, “anyway, he is allowing me to go and I’m allowed to bring someone with me and he suggested that I bring you.”
Mid sentence, you try stifling a giggle at the tickling action Yoongi is inflicting under the table by clearing your throat, allowing Yoongi to continue letting his foot rub against yours. You try not to think too much of the playful notion as you conceal your smile by letting on that the smile you’re wearing is for the information Yoon-ah is sharing with you.
You glance over to Yoongi to find his head in the palm of his hand, elbow propped on the table and a cocky smirk painting his face. He looks way too good in his casual wear. The plain black tee shirt adorning his upper body showing off his muscular torso, thick silver rings decorating his fingers and raven hair slicked back and shaved at the sides, the undercut structuring his face in the most sinful ways.
“So what do you say?”
Yoongi gives your leg a quick tap with his foot, making you jump at the contact, breaking you out of your illustrious stare, “huh?”
“Next week? Paris?” She says again like she hasn’t just gone over and explained all the details to you moments prior ago.
“Um, my job Yoon-” you tried
“Don’t worry about work, __,” Yoongi interrupts, “I asked the shift manager to put you down for a week of paid time off to accommodate the trip.”
Well that is generous. How long has he been planning this one?
You stare at Yoongi in disbelief over this information. “P-Paris?”
Yoongi hums in confirmation as Yoon-ah starts whittling down the list she has already conjured up in her mind. A preview of activities for you both to do.
You interrupt Yoon-ah, suddenly overwhelmed by the information being thrown your way, “Excuse me.” 
Leaving the table, you walk over to the bathroom and rush inside and head straight for the counter. As you reach the mirror above the counter, you place your handbag off to the side and turn on the cold tap, letting it run to an ideal temperature before splashing the chilly liquid across your face, cooling yourself down.
You hear the door of the bathroom open and close before the click of a lock resounds around the small room. Looking up at the intrusion, you find Yoongi leaning against the wall with his arms folded in front of his chest and a look of concern written on his face.
He takes note of the confused look on your face, “you’ve been gone for a while,” he notes as he walks over to you.
Looking at your watch, you realise you’ve spent at least ten minutes locked in the small bathroom. You drop your head in embarrassment as he stands in front of you.
“What’s wrong?”
“Yoongi, this is Paris.” It isn't a question, it is more of a statement. “Did you plan this purposely? You know how badly I’ve always wanted to go,” airily whispering that last part unsure if Yoongi even heard you.
Yoongi places his index finger below your chin and pulls your head up to gaze into his eyes. You try to seek out any signs of what you so desperately thought you would find - dishonesty. But you come up short. 
“Baby, Paris was planned with you in mind. It just so happened that that investor guy Kim Namjoon, remember him, had caught wind of the plans when I was discussing the vacation to a colleague,” his thumb is caressing the skin of your chin mere inches from your lower lip, “but Paris is meant to be a surprise for you,” Yoongi smiles.
“But Yoon-ah?”
A small chuckle left Yoongi’s lips at the mention of his stubborn daughter, “You and I both know that once she has an idea in her head, it’s hard convincing her out of it.” It was now your turn to giggle. “We can make it work, right? We always do,” Yoongi confirms to you both before pressing his forehead to rest against your own. Your arms envelope Yoongi, one hand resting on his chest and the other tracing small circles on the skin at the side of his neck.
He picks you up gently and sits you down on the white marble countertop and spreads open your legs before his hand wiggles their way under your cardigan and sits on your bare hips thanks to your cropped shirt. 
Yoongi takes a step forward to close the small gap that is left between the two of you and crashes his lips against yours. He moves one of his hands to your neck to cradle your face softly and lovingly. His lips are slightly chapped - a rough texture to them but you don’t care as you pull him closer and turn your head to deepen the kiss further. Grabbing a leg, Yoongi pushes it up onto the counter as your skirt follows, giving Yoongi a front row seat to your glistening pussy through the small flimsy excuse for underwear.
You pull back just a bit to catch your breath and Yoongi slips his tongue in your mouth as you moan. You press your body as close as you can to him, and thread your fingers into his hair. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs. 
Yoongi pulls at your cardigan and tugs it down your arms, throwing it to the other end of the bathroom leaving you in your white crop top and black pleated skirt. 
Just as things were beginning to heat up, Yoongi breaks the kiss and attaches his lips to your neck, a trail of searing kisses, nips and bites to the sensitive skin underneath your earlobe. Your back arches at the pleasure that’s being inflicted on your skin. Pulling at the belt loops on Yoongi’s skinny jeans, you drag yourself forward towards the edge of the counter and press your sensitive centre into Yoongi’s obvious bulge that is making more of an appearance the longer this encounter goes on.
Yoongi pulls the hem of your crop shirt far enough to uncover your tits. The cold air surrounding you causing your nipples to erect almost immediately, “Fuck, I really am a lucky man,” he latches his mouth onto one of the buds and sucks on it with vigor. His hand attaches to your second breast and squeezes the flesh hard, kneading it with purpose before taking the nipple and rolls it between his index finger and thumb.
He swaps his mouth onto the other tit and gives it the same attention as the previous, taking it between his teeth and grazing ever so slightly, laving on the assaulted skin with his wet tongue.
You erupt in a frenzy of breathy moans and curses at the man in front of you inflicting the most sinful actions in such a public space. Your mind runs over the same question in your mind… Did Yoongi lock the door? You know he closed the door, but you don’t remember hearing him lock the door, meaning anyone could walk in right now and see you in such a compromising position - top resting above your tits, one foot propped up onto the marble with Yoongi in between your spread legs making out with your tits. But the more you sit and ponder over the thought of the door not being fully locked and open to anyone gets you impossibly wetter at the thought.
Breaking away from your tits, Yoongi comes back up and kisses your mouth with an immense amount of passion, answering with a small “Yes baby,” and then dips his head back to the other side of your neck to give the skin there the same attention.
“Is the door locked,” you giggle
Yoongi stops what he’s doing and looks back at you. Your face is flushed, eyes darkened with lust and the beginning of sweat gathering at your hairline, chest heaving up and down due to the heavy pants as you try to suck in as much oxygen into your burning lungs. He cocks an eyebrow and smiles, showing off an array of sparkling white teeth before he bites his lips and groans. 
“Why? Is the thought of being caught something that doesn’t turn you on, huh?”
Keeping an eye on your reaction, Yoongi’s eyes burn into yours when his hand comes down and gropes your warm cunt over your underwear. He presses two fingers against the wet fabric and rubs it against your folds, quickly finding your clit. Yoongi keeps his fingers pressed on your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching you arch your back trying to chase more of the pleasure that he’s providing.
“I-It’s not that. Yoon-ah c-could walk in”
Smirking, “Yoon-ah left while you were in here. I told her I would look after you.”
Throwing your head back against the glass of the mirror, you moan “Yoongi, Yoongi please.”
Cackling from above you, Yoongi is enjoying the sight of you unraveling below him. He lifts your ass up and allows his fingers to find the waistband of your lilac lace underwear and pulls them down your legs and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans. “I stand corrected, seems that does turn you on,” he sneers as he restarts the movement of his fingers again.
“O-oh, feels so good Yoon,” the nickname leaves your lips eagerly.
You rest your arm on one of his broad shoulders and pull him closer to your frame as the pace of his fingers inside you moves at a steady pace. His tongue meets yours in a slow, languid dance as you savour the taste of him and the remnants of black coffee on his lips - drinking him in like you’ve been wandering the desert and he is a cool spring that you had managed to magically come across.
Yoongi adds a third finger inside your pussy which only intensifies the squelching noises in the small room. Yoongi breaks the kiss first when the need for air becomes all too much for both your burning lungs.
Breathlessly, you whisper, “I’m going to cum.”
“Yes baby, want you to come all over my fingers,” Yoongi spurs you on further, “Want you to be there with me. Want to spoil my girl, want to take you shopping and dine you in all the best French restaurants. Wanna fuck you in all the romantic spots.” He pinches your nipple once more to tip you over the edge faster.
At the imagery running rampant in your mind from Yoongi’s promises, your climax washes over you and takes control of your body. You arch your spine back and drop your head against the mirror again, a dull ache not present as you’re overcome by euphoric bliss. Yoongi doesn’t stop either as he continues to keep finger fucking you through your orgasm. 
He leans his forehead against your own and presses a kiss to your lips as he basks in the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers sporadically, “It’s okay Princess, I’ve got you.”
Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you slowly but keeps his eyes trained on your chest and the heavy rise and fall of your breasts as you engulf more air into you. You wince tiredly at the loss of being so filled up. Without missing a beat, Yoongi places his fingers into his mouth and licks up your juices that are running down his digits. His other hand caresses your cheek softly, his thumb running over your pillowy bottom lip before dragging the flesh down and forcing your mouth open. Yoongi finishes sucking his fingers and places them on your tongue instead, 
“Wanna taste?”
You wrap your own lips around his fingers and suck vigorously. The taste of what’s left of your orgasm and his own saliva tingling your taste buds. Simultaneously, you and Yoongi moan at the contact. You move your hips closer to Yoongi, feeling his cock sitting hard and heavy in his pants against your thigh, you begin to rock yourself against him only for Yoongi to place his hands on your waist to stop.
“This isn’t about me, as much as I would love to bend you across the counter and fuck you relentlessly, this is about you,” Yoongi smiles.
You both hold onto one another in each other's arms and gaze at each other. Yoongi catches the simple chain clinging around your soft sweaty skin as it drips into a small diamond pendant, taking the jewel into his index finger as his thumb rubs over the iridescent rock gently. It is a more understated piece he had bought for you on one of his trips away, unlike the lavish pearl and diamond necklace. You wear it everyday as a reminder that you shine for him just like the way stars gather together in a kaleidoscope of colourful constellations blanketing in the night sky. 
Yoongi playfully leans back in just to kiss you, “so, what do you say about Paris? Are you up for joining me?” He whispers into your skin, nipping your neck once more and pressing a wet kiss to the spot.
“Yes Yoongi, I’ll come.”
899 notes · View notes
personasintro · 9 days ago
monachopsis | 04
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, oral sex [male receiving], unprotected sex, dick pierced!yoongi (yes, that deserves a warning)
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k+ ↳ chapter index ⇢ intro | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 crossposted: wattpad | AO3 (to be added)
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A little bit over a month later and you're at this place again. The time has passed awfully slowly and it might  have had something to do with Yeonseok's absence and his presence required at work. You understood that this time of year is always one of the busiest and your husband wants to get everything done before he comes home, so he can fully focus on you. Although, the lack of presence of Yeonseok caused your mind to linger elsewhere.
Somewhere it probably shouldn't have and you had to stop yourself as soon as you realized you're thinking about his brother a little bit too much. Trying to pursue yourself it's just about the fear of the future and what it holds for you,  but deep down you know Yoongi has something in him that intrigues you. Maybe it's the fact that it's finally something exciting happening in your life, considering the past few weeks were boring.
Yeonseok tried to make it up to you by taking you out for dinner or simply prepared one for you at home, so you can't blame him. You tried to occupy yourself but even the slightest boredom has brought one pair of sharp eyes to your mind.
And now that you're walking to his apartment, ready to take another step in your deal that makes your stomach clench with nervousness – or maybe there's a small amount of excitement as well. And you feel guilty and sick to your stomach because you shouldn't feel excited. Is it a bad thing?
Just like you told Yoongi, you contacted him first and you know he had to be smirking once he finally got your clear message with only one purpose. Date and time saying 'does it work for you'?
“It sure does” he replied and caused you to take a few deep breaths as you tried to shoo away that feeling once again.
After proposing to visit a hotel, Yoongi declined and said it'd be a better idea to just come straight to his place and do it there, since it doesn't catch any unnecessary attention and you had to give him that. You're not a public person and to be honest, strangers definitely don't care about you but you're trying to do this as discreetly as you can.
However, despite your inner feelings that you're experiencing, your walk is more confident than the last time, when you were here and even when he opens the door and you face him again, your eyes are full of bravery and confidence when you're met with that same amused and cocky smirk.
As he opens the door and allows you to come in, you take a quick glance at his appearance, finding him wearing jeans with a nice button-up, something you haven't  seen him wearing before and you wonder if he made himself look more elegant for this occasion. Unsure about him, your intention of wearing a nice tight dress is quite obvious. You had nothing specific in mind for today's day and spent at least a good twenty minutes staring into your closet, trying to think of what would be the best option. You’ve settled on your casual yet still slightly elegant dress that compliments your body. With a nice pair of underwear, the guilt only intensified and you tried to tell yourself it is for you and to make yourself feel better. You haven't worn your best pair of underwear or dresses, only because it would be too wrong to make yourself look nice for someone who isn't your husband.
But still, the purpose of this whole deal is the main priority. You just have to get done with this, both get what you seek and then you'll be out of each other's hair. However, nobody knows how long that will take. Maybe today is the last time you do and experience this with Yoongi and maybe there are months ahead of you.
“Make yourself at home,” Yoongi says once you make it into his living room, after shaking off your thin coat and taking off your heels. There's a playful grin smearing across his lips as he offers you a drink which you agree to right away.
A minute later, Yoongi hands you the drink which happens to be whiskey with cubes of ice – totally not your favorite or usual choice of drink but you'll take it. Cringing at the bitter and strong liquor taste, you put the glass down as you watch Yoongi who joins you, his own but same drink in his hand as he silently sips on it.
“So, we are doing it, huh?”
Cringing at yourself this time, your features remain serious and confident despite your embarrassment by your own words but Yoongi doesn't mock you for it, although he does chuckle a little as he sets his glass down and leans against the back of the couch comfortably.
“Are you having second thoughts again?”
That makes you frown, not wanting him to question you all over again. You finally got yourselves here and you're not backing down. Everyone including your husband is fine with this and the sooner you get this dealt and done with, the sooner you'll be able to enjoy the time with your husband and preferably a new addition to your family. That's what you're here for, right?
“What do you mean again?” you scoff, something Yoongi ignores.
“Want something else to drink? Preferably something that makes you loosen up?”
And there it is – the amusement and sparkles in his eyes that you've grown to know and instead of feeling annoyed, you bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from chuckling.
“I think your strong whiskey is good enough,” you inform him.
“Sorry, it's not something fancy you're probably used to.”
Ignoring his jab, you roll your eyes instead and lean towards him, keeping eye contact. “Are you always this annoying?”
“You should probably know by now,” he says back, not hesitating a second as you let out a breathy chuckle.
“I was just curious if you're aware of it, that's all…” you mutter, leaning back as you reach for the drink again and take a big gulp.
He watches you the whole time but doesn't say anything back, although he has that stupid and gorgeous grin on those small and plush lips.
Looking away, there's an awkward silence while your eyes linger around the room, stopping at the plant in the corner. “You like plants?”
You're not sure what made you ask that, probably the awkward silence and Yoongi does seem to be all amused with you again, and he tries to mask his amusement by rubbing his nose a little.
“Um, not really?” he asks unsurely, catching your gaze and he stays quiet for a moment, as if he's contemplating whether he should go into details or not. But you glance at him, soft eyes almost pleading him to say something and he sighs, looking at the plant rather than  you. “My friend said this place needs to look more domestic, suggested plants so here they are.”
“Ah,” you murmur, touching your knees as you drum your fingers against it and still look around with pursed lips. Can the floor swallow you whole? Why is this suddenly getting so awkward?
“What? You didn't peg me as someone who's got plants?” he jokes, but there is a slight edge to it. Almost as if he's judging you and that makes you scowl, getting your attention to the point where you look back at him.
Yes, at your first visit here you were quite surprised, you're not going to deny that. But seconds after you've realized, you don't want to stereotype him or judge him.
“No, that's not it,” you shake your head, “I think it's interesting.”
“What is?” he scoffs, resting his arm on top of the couch's back.
“You,” you answer right away, “I think there are many interesting things about you that not many people know.” you tell him honestly, catching him off guard because his mouth slowly opens in a slight surprise and his sharp eyes watch you attentively.
“And you deduced all of that because of plants?” he scoffs, obviously trying to play it off and build that wall all over again.
You get the feeling as soon someone gets close to him, he tries to back away. But that could be only because of you, because you're his brother's wife. You're from his side of the family at the moment, people he's not very pleased with for his own personal reasons you're yet trying to understand.
“No, not just because of them. Just in general.” You settle to say, another beat of silence following before Yoongi suddenly straightens, clearing his throat. Reaching for the glass, he chugs down the remaining liquor there and the glass clicks against the surface of his coffee table.
“Should we get to it?” he asks straight away, averting the topic and conversation somewhere else and you're left speechless.
Shaking yourself out of your own surprise, you stutter over your words and do the same thing as he's done – drinking all the whiskey even though it burns down your throat and makes you visibly cringe. You're here for one thing and he obviously doesn't want to talk about himself, you've probably made him uncomfortable. He's keeping his distance, you realize.
“Yeah, we probably should,” you tell him, standing right when he does.
“Uh, so…” he starts unsurely, rubbing the back of his head slightly. “Where do you wanna do it?”
You almost choke, not knowing whether you want to laugh or get even more embarrassed by the blunt question . “I, uh, I don't know? This is your place.”
“Well, I'm not gonna fuck you in my kitchen, am I?” he mutters, “My bedroom is fine? Or you wanna do it here? The couch is small though, it might get uncomfortable.”
Cheeks all hot, you still need to get used to his bluntness and sharp tongue, and you wonder if it's even something you really have to get used to. You're here for one thing, it shouldn't matter that much anyway.
“Bedroom is fine,” you assure him, “If you're okay with it.”
He has the audacity to roll his eyes, just doing it at the right time for you to catch it, right before he turns his head. He wouldn't offer it if he wasn't okay with it, he thinks as he grumbles at you to follow him.
“Actually,” you speak, voice slightly nervous as you fumble with your hands but stop as soon as Yoongi sends you a glance across his shoulder with arched brow. “Can I use the bathroom real quick? I'll join you in a second.”
He searches your face, just for two seconds or three, trying to detect something on your face but chooses to let out a sigh as his hand waves lazily at one of those doors, silently telling you where the bathroom is.
Rushing there and closing the door behind you, you're met with a small bathroom but luckily with a mirror above the sink where your reflection meets you. You don't look bad and if you haven't felt your cheeks being all hot and a heart almost jumping out of your chest, you would believe that you're totally okay. It's your eyes that hold something in them – nervosity, excitement and shock of your own actions of what you're about to do.
You're not overthinking it as Yoongi would think. No. You're sure what you want to do and you've gone so far now, it would be a shame to back down. Pupils dilated and mouth slightly opened, you know you're ready for this. You wash your face, wanting to splash some of the cold water onto your face but decide against it since you're wearing make-up. Knowing as soon as you open the door, this is it and you've to find Yoongi, you take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom.
There aren't many other doors, just only one where you've seen Yoongi going in and are left ajar, you slowly make your way there. He's there.
He turns around at the sound of your feet padding against the floor, button-up in his hands as fingers momentarily stop from unbuttoning it at the sight of you. It doesn't take long and he continues at his task, but not before he says something to you across his shoulder.
“Take your clothes off,”
You shouldn't feel a spark in your stomach at the demanding, yet not that demanding tone at all, but it is there and all the worries seem to fade away slowly. You're living in the moment, currently focusing on that excitement and slowly growing pleasure that starts to flood your body.
“Or you don't have to. Whatever you prefer.” he adds, muttering under his nose but you hear him perfectly, suddenly being blessed by a sight of his exposed back as the button-up slights down his body and drops to the floor.
You're silent, too silent. Letting him lead this, you come to the conclusion that you want to take your clothes off. Some part of you wants to show yourself to him, wanting him to crave for you because if he won't, it's going to be so fucking embarassing. He needs to want you for this to work, strictly biologically and physically speaking.
Your dress slides off your body effortlessly, pooling around your ankles as you momentarily stop, catching a sight of Yoongi unbuttoning his jeans. However, you don't expect him to turn around to check on you, jeans unbuttoned but still wrapped and laying lowly against his waist. Suddenly, there's a bit of insecurity once his eyes drop down your body as he notices your lingerie.
He doesn't have any particular reaction, not hinting at anything which makes you insecure and nervous even more. And then your eyes meet and you're not sure if it's you, but you feel arousal pooling between your thighs just from a single glare. Too occupied to fully grasp it, you take off your bralette and show off your breasts to him.
Straightening, you nibble on your bottom lip, just a stupid habit of yours whenever you're unsure – and let your own eyes drop to where his groin is. A trail of hair disappears under the jeans and his visible boxers, reminding you what's laying under all those layers and somehow, you grow impatient and excited at the same time.
“Come here,” he prompts you, eyes watching as your body gets to move towards him.
He doesn't touch you, not just yet but as soon as you're closer to him, he lets his eyes drop down your body all over again, enjoying the view from a better proximity. But still, he looks back at your face to check your reaction.
“Get on the bed,”
And you do.
Met with a plain white ceiling, he stands at the edge of his bed and the sudden rustle sound makes you look at him, finding him taking off his jeans. Eyes shamelessly dropping to his groin, you're pleased to see the slight hardening bulge. That's good… you think and settle your nerves.
You're not sure what to do, you just lay there and think how embarrassing this feels like, despite you're feeling yourself getting horny and wanting to feel more of him. He hasn't touched you yet and all you can focus on is him touching you.
Yoongi gently taps your calves, your body listening to him as you spread your legs for him – the fabric of your lingerie barely covering your sex. Yoongi settles between your legs, hands slowly and gently grazing the skin of your thighs. From the way he keeps glancing at your face, you realize he's been checking on you this whole and doesn't plan to stop anytime soon, something you appreciate even though you want him to quicken up the pace.
“Can I take these off?” he asks you, fingers grazing your panties this time, very close to your actual sex and you pray he doesn't see how you pathetically and needily clench around nothing.
“Yes,” You almost slap yourself at how slow and weird you say it, but Yoongi simply obeys and starts sliding the underwear down your legs.
Fully naked in front of him, he takes a moment to look you up and down but he gets to work quickly, pushing your thighs even more apart as he digs right in. You're startled at his tongue brushing and licking a long stripe up and down your sex.
Is he not going right in? You're not sure why you're so shocked though. You've expected him to just fuck you, not prepare you and definitely not in a form of eating you out again. Some part of you is very happy though, he's very skilled with his mouth and the memories of his mouth on you are craved freshly in your mind – adding just more guilt. And you've had his cock in your mouth, it's not small and the stretch would probably hurt. So keeping your mouth shut, you let him do his work.
You're not sure what his intentions of exactly this are, but he helps you relax and you haven't even realized you needed it, not until your whole body lets go of the tension and the first moans and gasps resound from your mouth. You're drenched, Yoongi licking and sucking all of it and the sounds of his dirty mouth jolts your hips to move against his mouth. He's gripping your thighs tightly, going fully in and even entering you with his tongue which makes you see stars. Literally.
It's pure bliss and you whine, silently begging him for more and getting more vocal, being the complete different person from the woman who unsurely stood in her underwear in front of him.
Gasping aloud, your back arches off the mattress as he slides his fingers in, two at the same time but thanks to your wetness you welcome him and the sudden pleasant stretch makes you moan. Your hands are occupied by gripping the sheets, one of your hands mindlessly goes between your legs where Yoongi is and grip his hair.
“Shit, that's so good,” you moan, urging Yoongi to make you feel even better and he adds another finger, fucking you with his tattooed fingers.
Soon enough, he brushes against your sensitive spot which makes you moan even louder. Surprising yourself at the sounds leaving your mouth, you throw your head back. With each finger he adds, you enjoy the slight burn and stretch and it makes you think how much you needed this.
In the middle of it, you glance at Yoongi and after a few seconds, it's almost as if he senses your look because he reciprocates it and he freaking smiles. Smiles and your eyes are scrunched right away, his fingers never stopping as he adds his tongue which flickers your tongue. Not holding back any longer, not that it's physically possible, you cum around his fingers and mouth.
He doesn't pull away right away, fucking you right through your first orgasm while your hand slowly eases its way out of his hair.
“You think you good to go?”
Prying your eyes open, you find his mouth and chin being drenched in your cum and wetness, your eyes widening as you give him a quick and sharp nod. He chuckles, reaching for the hem of his boxers to expose his hard cock.
You couldn't forget about the fact this man has a freaking dick piercing but when you see it again, it's almost as if you're slapped by the fact itself all over again. Despite your first orgasm, there's so much more pleasure lingering inside your body and the sight of naked him, so you can't wait to feel him inside you.
Is that weird? Probably yes. But you currently don't care. You can worry about that later.
“You sure?” he asks, causing your eyes to roll in a mere annoyance but a light grin gazes at your lips.
“Yes, I am sure,” you assure him, boldness appearing from you as you tug onto his arm and make him hover over you even more. You let your hands drop down his chest and stomach, his body tensing for a moment before he relaxes underneath your touch. “Just fuck me, Yoongi.”
Something in his eyes darken. Who is Yoongi to decline free sex? Sure, there is a whole purpose of why you're doing this and he can't bring himself to think about it.
He should be disgusted by himself though. Not only he's about to fuck his brother's wife (with his approval though), he's also about to fuck a baby into you. There's something very erotic about it and he has never experienced it. It brings a lot of mixed feelings to him but he would rather focus on how sexy that is for some reason. It's dirty, maybe it's the evil side of him that almost seems to be proud that he's about to fuck you raw, possibly making you pregnant tonight when your brother isn't the one to do that at the moment.
Rather, not thinking about him, Yoongi gives you a chance to back away but when you don't and give him an eager nod instead, you even wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer, he doesn't hesitate to get to it.
It's been a while since he had a condomless sex and his mouth falls open as he gets to feel your warm and wet walls around him. He enters you, both of your mouth falling open and gasping at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out. He's careful though, letting you adjust to his length as the piercing grazes over your walls and it's weird because you can feel it here and there.
Although, you know the real power of his silver jewelry once he starts thrusting in, finding your sensitive spot in a minute or so. The piercing brushes against it, leaving you to whimper as Yoongi gets comfortable and buries his face into the crook of your neck. It feels intimate, despite you're having sex after all, but the closeness is welcomed and you use that chance to grab onto something that happens to be him.
He makes you feel so good, you almost don't understand it and the shameless sounds of your bodies colliding and the wetness gushing out of you is getting too much. His cock is drenched in your wetness, moving effortlessly in and out of you despite the stretch still burns, but you love it. Yoongi's arm is hooked under one of your thighs, bringing it closer to his hip making you feel him even deeper. Eyes rolled back, you clutch onto his back desperately, shamelessly moaning Yoongi's name.
Even Yoongi is surprised to hear his own name leaving your mouth repeatedly, silently praying you won't moan out Yeonseok's name instead. He could care less about that, although it'd be pretty embarrassing for his ego and he already feels like a freaking king for fucking you.
Thanks to the previous and all the hook-ups Yoongi has experienced, he has grown to know a woman's body well. So the first indications of your orgasm coming, he picks up the pace and rolls his hips into you, causing you to whimper as you urge him to go harder and faster. Despite the pretty normal and very common missionary position, nobody has ever made you feel this way.
Maybe it's his skills that should put you off, knowing he has to have a lot of experience, or maybe it's the piercing that adds something to his magic work. Not caring about all of it, even the purpose of you doing this flies over your head, the chase to your second and the biggest orgasm of tonight yet seems to be far more important.
And it's totally worth it because you're falling apart around Yoongi in seconds, not able to move as he fucks you through your orgasm, still chasing his own.
“Cum inside me,” you moan, slowly but surely growing sensitive but you urge him to move.
Of course he knows this is the whole purpose of you having sex, for him to cum inside and maybe it's the sweet tone of yours that makes him listen to you and nudges him closer to his own end.
Different from Yoongi, you're used to feeling cum inside you thanks to all the attempts you made with your husband. But still, nothing prepares you for his warm cum shooting at your walls as he groans into your neck. His thrusts slow down until they stop, cock softening as he pulls out of you and lays next to you. Both of you breathing heavily, you open your eyes to stare at the ceiling once again.
“You think it worked?” he asks, your heart skipping a beat because you've heard a similar sentence a few times now.
The thought of it working on the first time settles a bubbly feeling in your stomach and you force yourself to turn to him.
“I don't think so,” you answer honestly, “It usually takes more tries.”
He nods, completely unaware of this fact because he has never cared about it. Sure, he knows sometimes it's easier and sometimes it takes more tries, just like you said. But it's like he only now realizes it. It's crazy how he never thought and cared about this, and now he's just guessing and talking about it.
“Is this your way of asking to have more sex?” he teases, taking the opportunity to joke instead because it suddenly feels weird to him.
The thought of you being pregnant feels weird to him. You could be slowly getting pregnant and it might actually work as you talk about it.
Surprisingly, you chuckle at his question as you give him a perfect roll of your eyes. “We can try next month if it doesn't work,” you offer, “Or we could be trying for the next few days.” you add more quietly.
You still ovulate for a few more days, it's better to get this over with. At least that's what you're trying to say. Maybe you're not able to go for another round right away, but the thought of having sex (this kind of sex) with Yoongi for the next few days makes you all hot all over again.
“Whatever works best for you,” he reminds you, sounding nonchalant but there's some kind of softness in his voice. Or maybe you're just trying to tell yourself that. “You okay, though?”
Brows pinched, you gaze at him just to find him staring at the ceiling instead. “Yes, thank you for asking. Are you?”
He seems surprised of you asking the same thing and he clears his throat. “Yeah, I mean who says no to free sex.”
Snorting, you nudge him in his shoulder as you stand up. No matter how good it felt to be just laying down after sex like that, your body almost pleading to go back because tiredness is getting to you, you know you shouldn't stay here any longer.
His eyes are on you as you're collecting your clothes off the floor and you're aware of them, purposely not looking at him for multiple reasons. This is getting too dangerous and you've to remind yourself why you've done it in the first place.
“Shouldn't you be laying with your legs up or something?” Yoongi mutters, rubbing his face exhaustedly.
Laughing a little, you relax slightly and slide your panties up your legs. Yoongi's cum is already running down your legs and you wince at the feeling, looking around for some tissue to wipe it off.
“You can take a shower, you know.”
Looking at him, you look unsure and Yoongi somehow knows you just need a little push. Thinking about it, you sigh and hold the clothes closer to your naked chest.
“Okay, thanks,” you tell him, walking to the bathroom.
As soon as the door is closed, you lean against it with your back and take a deep breath. Your heart is about to jump out of your chest, the adrenaline still present while reality slowly hits you. The shower was very much needed, not only to wipe off the sex stench and sweat, but for you to collect your thoughts.
This is what we wanted, you tell yourself and finally let yourself relax. You'll get this over with, hopefully get blessed enough to get pregnant and you and Yeonseok will be a happy family. Yoongi will get his money and you won't have to see him ever again.
That is the plan.
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moonchild1 · 4 months ago
min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅱ)
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hello everyone here's a list of all my favourite yoongi fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs 🥺🖤 some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed, happy reading everyone ♡
a- angst s- smut f- fluff ❣- ultimate favourite
set me free by @myooniverse f s a (arranged marriage au) ❣
noise complaints by @sugasbabiie s a (neighbour au bad boy yoongi)
earn it by @sugasbabiie f s a (college professor yoongi) ❣
you, among the others by @inkofyoongi f s a (enemies to lovers au college au) ❣
all the room in the world by @inkofyoongi f a (friends to lovers au)
the singularity theory by @dovechim s (college au) ft. Taehyung
catharsis by @dovechim s (roommate au)
does that make sense? by @floralseokjin s a (college au) ❣
aquiver by @floralseokjin f s a (idol au) ❣
undo by @yoonia s a (past lovers au post break au yoongi's pov) ❣
little do you know by @yoonia f s a (established relationship au possessive yoongi)
carousel by @yoonia s a (arranged marriage au) ❣
quirofilia by @minyfic f s (producer yoongi tutor reader)
snafu by @minyfic f (enemies to lovers au)
need to know by @minyfic f s a (sugar daddy yoongi) ❣
love roulette by @whatifyoulivelikethat f s (friends to lovers au)
backstage by @wwilloww s (idol au) ❣
noise complaints by @jkstompers s (neighbour au)
the raindrop prelude by @inktae f a (pianist au)
taxi by @honeyedhoseok s (friends to lovers au)
playing with fire by @houseofdemi-blog f s a (fake dating au) ❣
bonseong breakfast by @honeymoonjin f s a
strike a chord by @snackhobi s ❣
kiss it better by @jeojahari f a (enemies to lovers au college au)
tesselation by @grinnieyoongi f s (idol au)
somebody else by @jeonqukie s a (unrequited love au friends with benefits au) ft. Taehyung ❣
la douleur exquise by @junqkook s a (soulmate au unrequited love au ) ft. Seokjin ❣
playing with fire by @hollyxqx s a (idol au enemies to lovers au) ❣
scary love by @lysjeon s a
the equation of love by @kookingtae f s a (college au professor yoongi student reader) ❣
when the power goes out by @inkjam-moon f s (established relationship au) ❣
what am I to you? by @tayegi
all too well by @cupofteaguk s a (idol au exes au make up artist au) ❣
bad boys bring it to you by @yuengi s (tattoo artist yoongi)
Till I Met You Again by @streetlight11​ f a (soulmate au university au enemies to lovers au) ❣
let me love you by @meanyoongi f s a (enemies to lovers au) ❣
MicroWave by @btsmakesmehappy f s a (neighbour au agent yoongi)
First love by @clouditae f s a (college au tattoo artist au) ❣
americano kisses by @sunshinejunghoseokie f a (friends to lovers au coffee shop au)
34+35 by @hobiandsprite s (friends to lovers au friends with benefits au)
love language by @gukslut f s a (couple au) ❣
easy rebound by @ditzymax s a (college au) ❣
the back of your car by @joheun-saram f s (college au friends to lovers au)
miss dial by @versigny f s a (fratboy au) ❣
sugar and spice by @agustdjoon f s a (sugar daddy yoongi student reader)
love like that by @mintseesaw f (doctor au established relationship au)
stuck by @joonscypher a (arranged marriage au chaebol au) ❣
matchmaker by @suhdays f a (wedding au christmas au it's told through jungkook's pov)
heart haunting by @jamaisjoons f s a (angst okay you will probably cry but other than that it's a really good read) ❣
anyone but the groom by @yoonjinkooked f s a (based on the movie the wedding planner) ❣
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heyitsmehaneul · 3 days ago
Gwanghae Flow
Buzzer Beater
Not Around
Kitten’s Little Flame
The Mark Of Yun-Ki
Finding Home
The Landlord
Something To Hold On To
Performance Evaluation
The Guardian
Cooking Class
Cold Shoulder
Maybe I’m A Little Dangerous
This Summer
Tournńe Du Chat Noir
At Your Service
Baby, You Can Drive My Car
Basketball Captain
Maybe, She Can Drive His Car
Fury Of The Scales
Little Monsters
Cream And Suga
Predator And Prey
Not Even A Mouse
Take Me Home
462 notes · View notes
taetaespeaches · 2 months ago
“Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry.”
yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.6K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 
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Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.
Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.
Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.
He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.
Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you quickly but quietly shut the door, hiding away behind the barrier once again. You should have stepped into the hallway and faced the man you loved, but your cowardice always seemed to win. Instead, you stood frozen, your back pressed against the wood, your jaw clenched, and your eyes filling with tears once again.
If only you had known that the click of the latch registered in Yoongi’s ears, the man turning to see the door closed. However, he knew you were just on the other side, he could feel your presence. Yoongi had stepped toward the door, raising his arm and nearly knocking before deciding against it. Maybe you wanted space, maybe you didn’t want to see him. Sighing, he started the dryer before returning to the couch, all while you leaned against the door wishing you had the courage to step outside.
As you remained restless in bed, you couldn’t help but think about how you had ambushed Yoongi. You could tell that as far as he knew, you and him didn’t have any issues. Replaying the fight in your head, the interaction with him earlier in his studio, the past couple weeks, you realized he was completely oblivious to how you had been feeling. How could the fight ever be fair if he had no indication of any problems? And to bring up his mistake from nearly a year ago that you knew he regretted, whether it still hurt you or not, was cruel.
You left him defenseless; the man who always lowered his defenses when it came to you.
Curiosity and your undeniable pull to Yoongi getting the best of you, you found yourself in the hallway, headed toward the living room where he was sleeping for the night. With how still everything in the apartment was, you worried for just a moment that maybe he had actually left, despite his promise not to walk out on you. You wouldn’t even blame him if he did. However, you caught a glimpse of the messy hair that sat atop his head where he rested against the arm of the sofa, once again reminding you of how foolish your misguided accusations were. Of course he didn’t leave.
Stepping closer to him, you carefully peeked over the top of the sofa to see him lying on his back, his mouth slightly ajar as he slept, his arms folded across his body as though he was trying to secure as much warmth as he could. More than ever you were regretting the fight, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and let him use up all the body warmth you had to offer.
You were surprised to find him sleeping so soundly, as he usually couldn’t find slumber when his mind was busy processing stress or conflict. His exhausted state made you feel even more guilty as you realized how little you took his current workload into consideration when targeting your attacks at him. And that’s when you realized that even more than you expected him to be late for your date that night, you wanted him to be. Because then it would validate your anger without you having to discuss how you had been feeling. It was a fix all, a get out of jail free card; finally release the anger that had been building up over the past two weeks and then move on. What you didn’t consider was the casualty you turned your boyfriend into. Nor did you expect the insecurity you still felt from the start of your relationship to surface. There was a time, one single time, when you didn’t find Yoongi asleep on your couch after a fight.
But he was there now. And you needed to find a way to let go of the past, forgive, and move forward together.
Lost in your thoughts and revelations, you were suddenly pulled back into the present moment when the dryer beeped to signal it had completed its cycle. Jumping in start, your eyes widened as you stared at Yoongi, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and catch you watching him. Frozen for just a few seconds, you waited for any sign of consciousness before quickly backing away and heading for the dryer.
Reaching into the machine, your arms were shrouded with the warmth of freshly dried blankets. Glancing over your shoulder at the sofa, you pouted, remembering how cold Yoongi looked. Without a second thought, you found yourself approaching Yoongi once more, comforter in hand. Stopping in front of the couch, you peered down at him and prepared to drape the warm blanket over him.
However, you spotted one of his yellow notepads stuck between his arm and abdomen, full of words that he must have scribbled down before falling asleep. It was lyrics, no doubt, and normally you would have read over the words with great curiosity and appreciation for Yoongi’s lyrical talent. But with the previous events of your evening with Yoongi, you felt as though that would be an invasion of privacy. Or maybe you were worried you would find harsh words about yourself, though realistically you doubted it. Whatever the reason, you gently tugged on the notepad, freeing it of his grasp before setting it aside on the coffee table, along with the pen that rolled onto his stomach.
As carefully as you could, you set the blanket over his frame, tucking it in just slightly around him, not wanting to wake the man. Satisfied with your work, you stepped back and glanced at his features, ensuring his eyes were still shut, his mouth still open signaling a deep sleep.
His cheeks were so soft and plush, his facial structure so delicate. You could stare at him for ages but you worried the unspoken love and regret that was screaming within your heart and mind would wake him. But for just a moment longer, you inspected his features, appreciating the soft gentleness that was always so present within them. If only you could be more like him. You were certain the world would be so much kinder, considerate, and serene if more people could embody the stunning nature that was your boyfriend. Yoongi had never once lashed out against you in the way that came so naturally to you. You wondered if he knew how much you appreciated that about him. Even when angry, he was always so gentle.
Sighing, you forced yourself to leave him to sleep, returning to your room where you would continue to ruminate on the mistakes that you wish you could take back.
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You didn’t know at what point you had finally succumbed to sleep but you did know that Yoongi was the only thing on your mind when you slipped into a state of slumber. Consciousness came slow at first, your mind hazy as you took your time piecing together the elements of the new morning. And then it came fast, anxiety crashing through you as you recalled the events of the previous night and realized you’d have to face Yoongi.
The sound of rummaging from outside the room alerted you that your boyfriend was awake and moving around. A part of you wanted to stay locked away, safe within the walls of your bedroom. But a larger part knew you had to emerge and try to fix the damage you had caused. Instinct and habit were battling it out with growth and trust, and you knew which you had to choose.
Emerging from your self-made cell, you sheepishly made your way toward the kitchen where the sounds of action were coming from. The smell of food cooking suddenly flooded your nostrils and when you turned into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the stove as he prepared breakfast, two awaiting plates set to the side. Why was he cooking for you?
As you entered his peripheral, he turned to you, his eyes wide, his features as gentle as ever. The tension was palpable, but the slight upturn of Yoongi’s mouth helped to cut it just slightly.
“Thanks for the blanket,” he spoke to you, your heart racing at the minor interaction. Nodding at him, he returned his gaze back down to the contents within the frying pan. “Did you sleep ok?”
Scrutinizing him slightly, you stared at him as he tossed around the egg mixture, his eyes not lifting as he patiently waited for your response. “Not really,” you admitted quietly, Yoongi’s sweet orbs meeting yours once again. How could he look at you with so much understanding after last night? He should be angry and bitter, lecturing you on your behavior.
The man silently turned to the coffee pot, filling one of your mugs before adding some milk and sugar, fixing it just how you liked it. The simple gesture had tears pricking your eyes because after everything, he was still caring for you. Because he wanted to.
Walking toward you, he held the steaming ceramic cup out to you, forcing a small smile of gratitude from you. “Thanks,” you whispered as you took the coffee from him, holding back tears that Yoongi immediately noticed.
“Kid,” he whispered with a frown just as you directed your misty eyes to the contents of the mug, suddenly finding the tan coloring of the liquid fascinating. “Hey,” he called for your attention.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled childishly. “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to-” you cut yourself off as a tear fell to your thumb, your hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, stepping toward you and placing a hand to the back of your head. He dipped his face into your eye line, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you.”
The three words served as a reminder and an explanation, as if his love for you meant he wouldn’t want to treat you with anything but kindness. And that was new. Foreign. And overwhelming.
When he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead, it all felt even more confusing but you were grateful. Grateful for the respect and compassion he dedicated to you, even when you didn’t feel deserving.
“You don’t know how to do what?” He asked softly, his lips ghosting over your skin.
Pulling away from you, he looked into your eyes. Yoongi was someone who was always a bit awkward with eye contact, struggling to maintain it for too long even with you, and that’s when you realized how hard he was trying to break through your walls. The man was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone in hopes of pulling you out of yours, so you could fall into him like a safety net. He wanted to be that for you.
“You’re supposed to be mad at me or giving me the silent treatment or something and I just-” you shrugged as Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was studying you. “It feels like you’ve already forgiven me and I don’t know how to do this without the anger or feeling like I have to grovel for your love.”
The man shook his head instantly, a pout forming on his pretty lips. “You never have to grovel for my love, who taught you that, Kid?” He asked sadly, his empathy washing over you and your past. “I just love you,” he told you for the second time that morning. And as your heart pounded against your chest, Yoongi’s hand found your lower back. “We do this by talking about it. With understanding and accountability. So will you sit at the island and talk to me while I finish cooking us breakfast?”
You had never had a safe place to land, making you believe you were meant to fly, never staying in one place for too long. But Yoongi was giving you that place to land, to rest, to find shelter. Nodding at him, he gave you a small close mouthed smile, one of those ones that pushed his soft cheeks up in just the way you loved. His hand slowly dragged around to your side before sliding off your hip as he headed back to the stove. And you followed, taking a place on one of the stools, setting your mug on the island as you watched Yoongi appreciatively.
“I’m sorry for leaving in the past,” he started, your eyes popping wide open, not expecting for him to initiate the conversation there. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you, and I’m sorry that still looms over you. I had hoped that you were able to move past it but I understand the impact it made and the precedent it set.”
“I wasn’t holding it over you,” you interjected, not wanting him to think that you were hanging onto his mistakes to use against him. “I didn’t even know it still hur-” you cut yourself off, feeling guilty for bringing the word hurt into the discussion.
“It hurts you, Kid,” he looked up from the pan as he spoke. “You can say that.”
“It’s just when that happened it reaffirmed at the time everything I knew to be true about love, you know? Like, it’s fleeting and within an instant it can be removed,” you explained.
“I understand,” he nodded. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being affected by my actions.”
“The same can be said for you,” you pointed out, a small smile curving on Yoongi’s lips.
“Touché ,” he lightheartedly commented, making you smile in return. “But you were feeling rejected, Kid. That is on me.”
“No, because I never vocalized anything,” you disagreed.
“I should have known,” he mumbled, expressing disappointment in himself.
“Are you a mind reader?” You asked him, making him stop his inward spiral as he stared at you. “I should have told you so much sooner how I was feeling. I didn’t. That was immature of me.”
Taking a moment to think, the man shook his head at himself. “I still should have never made you feel rejected,” he said, defeat evident in his tone.
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “Baby, sometimes I worry that you make so few mistakes in our relationship that you get this standard of perfection thrown on you, and that’s not realistic. You’re going to fuck up, I’m going to fuck up, I don’t want it to be the end of the world when that happens.”
Stunned by your words, he stared at you with widened eyes, his jaw slightly opened, appearing almost frozen in place. Closing his mouth, he cleared his throat before wetting his lips just slightly, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted softly, your lips forming into a pout as tears formed in your eyes.
“I know that,” you assured him. “Yoon, we had one of our biggest fights last night where I gave you my worst and since then I’ve caught you finishing my laundry and cooking me fucking breakfast, and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and- do you know how incredible that is? How much that means to me?”
Yoongi blinked quickly, an attempt to conceal the tears that had bubbled in his own eyes. You were certain that a conflict as big as the one you and Yoongi had found yourselves in should be harder to fix. There should be more conversation, more pleading, more tears, more fighting. But he presented you with a safety net, and you found yourself breaking through your own walls and falling into it.
“I love you,” you told him, wanting to assure him the way he did you.
Sighing, he stared at you, gratitude shimmering in his orbs. “Can you forgive me for the past?”
“I already did,” you told him sincerely. And you had. “It’s just a process, you know, unlearning what I thought love was and relearning it as, this,” you gestured between yourself and Yoongi. “I have to accept that this is how you love me and that you’re not going anywhere.” Shrugging at him, you huffed. “Insecurities work their way in but I trust you, Yoongi.”
“I’m still sorry. For the past, and for making you feel rejected,” he told you, making you glare at the man.
“I accept your apology, and it’s ok. But I don’t want you living in a constant state of apology, I won’t allow it,” you told him sternly.
The comment drew a breathy chuckle out of the man, Yoongi’s small gummy smile pushing out the remaining tension, and effectively filling your lungs with air.
“I’m sorry for being immature and blowing up,” you told him. “And for bringing up past shit and being mean and not vocalizing my concerns and-”
“Hey,” he smiled sweetly. “It’s all ok. Really, Kid, we’re ok.”
Nodding at him, you sighed in relief. You were still left with some remaining guilt over the fight, which you’d be making up for whether he wanted you to or not. But you felt a sense of closure to last night, the past two weeks, and the fight that nearly ended your relationship before it could truly start almost a year ago.
As Yoongi broke away from the conversation to place the finished food onto the plates, you glanced to the side of the island, noticing the yellow notepad that sat with the first page folded over the top binding. More words were scribbled than last night, indicating that Yoongi had woken up and finished jotting down lyrics before you emerged from your room.
“Did you read them?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts as he appeared beside you, setting a plate in front of you. Looking up from the notepad to meet his gaze, you shook your head.
“I didn’t feel like I had the right,” you told him, Yoongi pulling his eyebrows together in scrutiny. “Plus it was dark in there, my eyes aren’t that good,” you joked.
“Yeah you’re blind,” he humorously deadpanned.
“I am,” you easily agreed.  
“You could have read them,” he returned to the original topic as he gently dug his fingers through your slept-on hair, massaging the roots sweetly. “It’s about you.”
“A new cypher verse?” You teased, eliciting a chuckle from the man as his shoulders shook adorably.
“You’ll have to do a lot more to earn yourself a cypher verse, Kid.”
Shooting him a glare with your eyebrow raised, you smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he shook his head, leaning down toward you. “It’s not,” he whispered just before his lips met yours, kissing you softly. Your hand found his waist, wanting to hold some piece of him as you kissed him back, pouring forgiveness and love into the act.
When he pulled away, a stupidly cute gummy grin directed to you, you couldn’t help but return the smile, a small giggle slipping from your lips. “Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry,” you told him jokingly. “Even when I’m mean,” you added with a forced pout, Yoongi smiling just before placing a peck to your mouth once more.
“You call that mean?” He asked as he pulled away and sat down in the stool next to you. “You’re gonna have to do much better than that, I’m Min Yoongi.”
“He says Min Yoongi as if that’s not synonymous with a honey boy,” you teased as you took a bite of your food, immediately moaning at the taste. Yoongi pulled a disgusted expression at your dramatized reaction to the food, making you giggle.
“I’m your honey boy. That hasn’t changed,” he pointed out just as he took a bite himself.
And as you stared at him with a dumb smile, your eyes holding all of the love in the world, you felt excitement and gratitude that you’d get to shower him in all that love and affection for as long as he’d let you. And if that morning was any indication, he’d be letting you for your entire lives.
1K notes · View notes
v-hope · a month ago
Yoongi + "Do you even trust me? Because everytime you talk to me about them, it feels like you don't. " "[Name], I trust you more than I trust myself, believe me. It is them I'm wary of. " + fluffy (but very) angsty cause I like pain :D. Requested from this (love your work 💜 I just now you’ll do it perfectly [whenever inspiration hits you no rush] here’s a Yoongi smile for ya :]
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: angst, fluff
word count: 1.4k
a/n: well, this turned out longer than i intended lol. i changed the prompt a little bit to make it fit better, but i actually loved writing this soooo much, so thank you for requesting it! i hope you enjoy!
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Visiting Yoongi’s hometown was always fun, and the family gatherings that were held whenever he visited home were even more of a blast. That you had learned over the last four years you had been dating him.
However, during this past year, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of tension on Yoongi’s end. He would always be all smiles until the rest of his family started to arrive, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on which family member made his entire aura change.
What made the whole situation worse was that you couldn’t bring yourself to actually ask him what was going on to try and help him ease the tension, for there was a chance you were just overthinking everything and would end up starting some kind of family drama over nothing.
Today was no different.
He had been just fine up until an hour ago — the big gummy smile covering his face as he talked with you over a glass of wine, being erased the moment his uncle and aunt arrived, each of them with their respective sons.
So, now, you watched him from afar as he comfortably sat on the couch and talked to a few family members. Although he was visibly enjoying whatever it was they were talking about, you could tell he was sulking, especially when he would look for you from time to time.
You only snapped back from your thoughts when his mum handed you a list of the things she had just asked to go get to the store around the corner, telling you to have Yoongi go with you. Before you could go up to your boyfriend, however, Sungho, one of Yoongi’s cousins, who had heard the conversation you were having with your mother in law, offered to go with you.
At the moment, it had seemed like a good idea.
“Your mum asked me to go get a few things on the store” you let Yoongi know, sitting down next to him on the couch.
He nodded. “I’ll go with you”.
Before you could protest, his hand was holding yours and he was excusing himself from his family.
“You don’t need to go with me. Go back to them, it’s okay” you stopped him before he could reach the front door.
“I can help you bring the bags” he mindlessly shrugged.
“It’s okay, really. Sungho offered to go with me”.
His whole body tensed up, and you were left wondering if maybe, just maybe, Sungho had been the one he had a problem with all along.
“He what?”
“He offered to go with me…” you repeated, slower this time, unsure.
“But I am your boyfriend” he empathized.
“So? We’re just getting a few things on the store around the corner, it’s no big deal”.
“If you’re going somewhere so close, then why can’t I go”.
“I never said you couldn’t go” you pointed out. “You were just talking to your family and he offered, so I figured I wouldn’t bother you”.
“You never bother me” he stated. “What bothers me is that you decided to go with him”.
Glancing over to where everyone was, hoping they wouldn’t have heard your small discussion, especially Yoongi’s last words, you let out a sigh.
“Let’s not make a scene right here”.
That was something he agreed with.
Without another word, and not letting go of your hand, he dragged you to his bedroom, closing the door behind him as you took a seat on his bed.
“I don’t understand what the big deal is” you began, watching him come close to you. “He’s your cousin and we’re just going to buy a few things”.
“The deal is that he has no right to go anywhere alone with you when I am your boyfriend”.
“I know you’re my boyfriend, Yoongi” you glared at him. “And I’m pretty sure Sungho knows, too. Fuck, your entire family knows we are together by now”.
“That means nothing”.
“How can that mean nothing?” you scoffed. “Seriously, Yoongi, you’re making a scene out of nothing. We would already be back from the grocery store if you weren’t acting like this”.
He shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh. “Would you now?”
“What are you trying to imply?” you raised one of your eyebrows.
“No, Yoongi. You can’t just not explain what you meant by that”.
“Nothing, okay? I meant nothing, it’s just…” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “He would’ve found a way to have you all to himself for a little longer”.
“Have me all to himself?” you repeated his words, both hurt and disbelief clear in your voice. “Who do you take me for?”
“No,” he panicked. “I didn’t mean it like that”.
“Didn’t you now?” you stood up, making him take a step back. “Tell me, do you even trust me? Because, right now, it really feels like you don’t”.
“I trust you more than I trust myself”.
You rolled your eyes, trying to walk past him and out of the room, yet not being able to as he tightly held your wrist.
“I do! Y/N, I trust you more than anything, believe me” he pleaded. “It’s him I'm wary of”.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” you quietly spoke, hurt suddenly overshadowing your anger and having you look down, away from his eyes. “If you trusted me, you would know I would stop him, or anyone for that matter, the second they made a move”.
“I know,” he softly spoke, pulling you to him and cupping your face — forehead gently resting on yours. “Baby, I know. I’m sorry, okay? I trust you, but I don’t want him to even get the chance to make a move”.
“How do you know he’s even going to?” you mumbled.
Yoongi let out a shaky breath, as if your mere question had brought him bad memories. And they did.
“He likes you” he mumbled. “A lot”.
“He what?”
“He likes you” he repeated, wishing he would not ever have to say those words again. “He told me himself, and I… I mean, you’re mine”.
“I’m n—”
“Don’t give me your feminist speech right now” his warning earned an amused roll of eyes from you. “I know you don’t actually belong to anyone but yourself, but… you are mine, in a way”.
Shaking your head at how hopelessly cute he looked right there, you cupped his face as well, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before your thumbs gently caressed his cheeks.
“I am yours, you dork” your confession got a gummy smile from him. “Which is why I don’t understand what does it even matter that he likes me”.
“I… heard him tell his brother once that if I didn’t watch out, he would take you from me”.
You snorted. “As if he could”.
Your immediate reaction had seemed to bring him the reassurance he needed. Locking eyes with you, he smiled, letting out a chuckle of his own as his hands travelled down to your waist, tenderly wrapping around it.
“He’s an asshole, and he’s got a serious superiority complex if he believes for even a second that he would be able to take me away from you”.
Letting out a giggle this time, he pressed a small kiss to your forehead before he pulled you against his chest — arms tightening around you in the warmest of hugs.
“That’s my girl”.
You let out a contented sigh at the sound of that, tightly wrapping your arms around him as well and burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“I love you, okay?” your voice came out muffled. “So stop worrying about him”.
“I love you more” he whispered, having you plant a kiss on his hot skin — with just that, letting him know those words meant the world to you.
“Can I go get what your mum asked me to now?” you asked. “She loves me and I don’t wanna change that by taking too long and making her mad”.
You felt his chest tremble against yours as he silently laughed, then pulling slightly back so he could look at you with a questioning eyebrow. “Are you still going with him?”
“Nope, I’m going with you” you pecked his pink lips. “From now on, I’m showing him my heart belongs to Min Yoongi and Min Yoongi only”.
684 notes · View notes
lavienjin · a month ago
first love | myg
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synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn't talk much, you've always found his presence comforting, and it didn't surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn't fall in love.
But wouldn't you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it's addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing.
→ part of the virtue, vice, and everything nice collab.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
wc: 11.3k
genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(
author's note: i'm fully aware that this song is about a piano but i don't want to write angsty musician yoongi since it hits a little close to home, so i put my own spin into it. thank you to the lovely @ddaechwita for the banner! this is part of @missgeniality's wings collab so please make sure to check out the rest of the authors! ♥
i wanna give a shoutout to one of my favourite authors out there! @yoonia happy heckin birthday, my love!! i tried to channel your energy when i was writing this. truly, your fics give me a lot of inspiration!!!
m.list | ao3
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You first entered Helion Game Company together as interns, assigned to comb through thousands of customer complaints while sitting across from each other.
Yoongi didn’t speak much; opting to tilt his head every time you greeted him good morning, but the way his eyes twinkled as he listened to you talk about your weekend caused a confusing array of feelings to emerge quietly in your heart. And the feelings continue to blossom whenever you return to find the occasional tangerine next to your computer after you’ve had a long day.
To you, Yoongi would always be that seemingly aloof coworker with a tight rein on his emotions, but one whose voice can command the entire room with just the simplest of words. It wasn’t surprising that he rose quickly through the ranks and you watched with quiet pride when he was inducted into the Senior Sound Engineers circle for the next version launch of the company’s hit mobile game.
Though it took you a few more months, you soon joined him in the ranks to work alongside the project with a team of Creative Directors. Introducing yourself to a room of ambitious souls was a nerve-wracking experience, but it was only made bearable when you caught Yoongi’s eyes in the back of the room as his warm presence continued to provide a quiet flow of support that strengthened your nerve. Ever since that day, you held his gaze steadfastly whenever you presented a new concept to the team, and if you’re lucky, you’d find a tangerine sitting prettily on your desk the next morning.
With the highly anticipated one-year anniversary launch coming up soon, you’re swamped with endless meetings to finalize the details that would be included, so much so that you’d find yourself reminiscing about the early days. Though combing through a never-ending list of demands from players was tedious, you relished in the quiet that surrounded you and Yoongi, the two of you lost in your own worlds with only the clicks of keyboards accompanying your routines.
As time and busyness enveloped your lives, they robbed you from seeing one another and it didn’t surprise you to learn that the sprouting feelings you once had for the ebony-haired man were eventually absorbed by the cacophony of noise around you. However, not all is lost, because you’ve gathered the scattered petals on the ground and chose to call it a different name: friendship.
And though it felt like months since you last talked or even been in the same room with each other, you couldn’t help but smile at the rare moments when you’re greeted in the morning with the comforting scent from the small, citrus fruit.
The day started out rather pleasant, the stifling summer air made way for a gentle breeze, cooling down the normal heatwave that lurks in the alleys of the city. You hadn’t even slept that terribly, even waking up before your alarm clock to enjoy the morning air as you sipped coffee from your favourite mug. As you smiled at the chirping birds in a nearby tree, you just can’t shake the feeling that today was going to be great.
Or so you thought.
As soon as you arrive at the office, your lifted spirits deflate as your assistant frantically calls your name in near tears.
“Dowon leaked the character concept,” she informs you in a high-pitch shriek as you shouldered your way through a sea of panicking bodies. “Namjoon wants to see you.”
From what you can gather in the few minutes you had with your assistant as you turned around to walk in the other direction towards Namjoon’s office, the newest artist in your team, Dowon, had posted a selfie of himself on Twitter that contained the early sketches of the not-yet-released Yuna in the background. He hadn’t realized his mistake until he checked his ever-buzzing phone, and upon looking at the encroaching thousands of retweets and likes, his panic was evident in his pallor. Although he deleted the tweet immediately after his discovery, the news had already spread like wildfire – with users reposting the tweets on multiple platforms outside of just Twitter.
When you enter Namjoon’s office, his back is turned towards you. He’s talking to someone on the phone in harsh whispers, though your deafening heart rate makes it hard for you to piece together the words.
“G-Good morning,” comes a timid voice from your side.
You blink in surprise at Dowon’s trembling figure. Of course, he’d be here, but your mind had been so preoccupied with the disaster that you hadn’t noticed his presence. With his shoulders raised to the skies, he sinks into himself, unable to meet your gaze. You’re suddenly parched, throat constricting around your reply, unable to push the words out, so you offered him a half-hearted smile instead.
Your attention is stolen when Namjoon clears his throat. The blue tie on his neck is slightly loose, and the way he sighs as he slumps on his dark leather chair causes a stone to drop in your stomach. When Namjoon regards you with his steel gaze, his mouth is pulled into a grim line.
“I assume you’ve been informed about what happened?”
Dowon squeaks from beside you and you steal a quick glance at the pitiful man, your heart clenching at the unshed tears in his eyes. He isn’t the best artist in your team, but he does work the hardest. If Namjoon decides to terminate his contract, it will be hard for you to hire another artist so late into the development.
You nod. “Minju told me what happened on our walk to your office, yes.”
Namjoon’s face is unreadable, a stone mask that doesn’t betray what he’s thinking. The only indication that this situation may be worse than what you’d imagine is the way Namjoon’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek, a rare expression you’ve only seen a handful of times in your employment.
You’re unable to breathe with the thick, palpable tension in the air. Namjoon studies both your figures in the silence, and you wonder if he’s quietly enjoying this.
“Dowon,” he says calmly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m—I’m sorry, sir. It w-won’t happen again,” Dowon stammers. He bows as he balls his slacks into his fists.
Namjoon nods and returns his attention to you. “Tell me, how’s his performance as of late?”
You feel a prickling sensation as Dowon’s pleading gaze snaps to you. “His work is consistent.” You maintain the intense eye contact with Namjoon, resolute in defending your employee. “You won’t find another artist like him this late in the game, sir.”
Tension releases your body from its hold when Namjoon shifts his gaze away from you. The breath of relief you let out seems to reassure Dowon, and from the corner of your eye, you can see the way his shoulders begin to relax.
“Dowon, you may go,” Namjoon announces.
You offer a congratulatory smile at the man beside you, one he returns with a deep bow before he scurries out of Namjoon’s office. The unsettling feeling returns to your stomach when the door shuts behind you.
“Unfortunately,” Namjoon mutters, his expression turning grim once more. “I have some bad news for you.”
You can’t stop the hot tears from making their way down your cheeks as you barricade yourself in the copy room. Your team, possibly sensing your ire after you left Namjoon’s office without so much as a hint of a smile, has left you alone to wallow until it was time for them to go, where they quietly slip away without so much as a wave.
“Stupid thing!” you grumble, kicking the wheel of the copier in frustration.
For the past hour or so, you’ve been trying to print the incident report you’ve painstakingly typed out all afternoon. Your meeting with Namjoon has left a nasty mark on your otherwise pristine office life. You can’t blame him, knowing that the decision has been made prior to you stepping foot on the ugly navy carpet of your office, but you can’t help the anger that rises steadily towards the man either.
After Dowon left, having been dismissed by Namjoon, your boss informed you that you’ve been written up for your negligence, which, as you spat out to him that morning, was complete and utter bullshit. Namjoon patiently listened to you rant as you plead your case, but your passionate words didn’t make a dent in his armour.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon murmured as he handed you a yellow slip. “Please have this signed along with the incident report. I expect it on my desk first thing in the morning.”
The beeping from the printer breaks you of your thoughts and you cast your gaze down to the LCD screen flashing red and yellow, signifying yet another paper jam on the side of the printer.
Defeat pulls you down on to the floor, where you bring your knees close to your chest as you bury your face into your hands.
“Hey, are you okay?”
You lift your face to meet Yoongi’s worried gaze. Great.
“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just been a really long day.” You let out a half-hearted chuckle, one that Yoongi returns with a sad smile.
He makes his way to your crouched figure before sitting down next to you, both your backs leaning against the printer. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Though you’re touched by his sincerity, a part of you hesitates to tell him what’s wrong, especially since your interactions thus far have been minute due to your busy schedules.
Sensing your reluctance, Yoongi nudges you lightly with his shoulders, a growing smile on his face. “Come on,” he urges. “I’ve heard you talk about your weekend since we were interns. You were never shy about discussing your thoughts before, why are you hiding them from me now?”
With a shuddering sigh, you smile gratefully at Yoongi before highlighting the unfortunate moments from this morning. True to his nature, Yoongi listens closely as you speak, chiming in once or twice with a few hums. Though as you begin to retell what happened in Namjoon’s office, Yoongi tenses beside you, his once worried expression morphing into fury.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi slams his fist to the copier behind you. “That’s bullshit!”
“Yeah? Well, tell that to Namjoon,” you snicker. In all the time you’ve known Yoongi, you have never seen him so upset. “It’s fine, really. I’ve never been written up before, so it’s not the end of the world. Plus, Namjoon said that it was out of his hands,” you sigh. “I just hope it doesn’t look bad on my performance review.”
Yoongi releases his bottom lip from his teeth, but not after he tortures it to a point where you see little pricks of red peeking through the soft tissue. Your hand moves on its own as you wipe his bottom lip with your thumb, tutting at the small injury. When you realize what you’ve done, you snatch your hand away quickly, your cheeks aflame when Yoongi looks at you with wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry, force of habit!” you stammer. “I have cousins and they’re a messy bunch, always wrestling with each other and getting cuts all over.”
God! What was wrong with you? With a silent prayer for the ground to open up, you bury your face into your hands, trying to hide away the embarrassment colouring your face.
“Thank you.”
With an amused chuckle, Yoongi gingerly removes your palms from your face to force your gaze back to his. “I mean it,” he whispers as he lets go of your hands. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” you utter just as quietly. “Really, I should be thanking you for listening to me; not just about this fiasco, but for all the times I bugged you during our intern days.”
Yoongi tilts his head, his smile faltering slightly. “That’s assuming that you’re a bother.” At your protests, he begins to laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, I like listening to you talk,” he beams. “If I hated your voice, I wouldn’t have listened to you drone on and on about the countless awful blind dates your friends set you up with.”
“Oh my god! Why would you bring that up?” you laugh, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I should probably get on with this,” you pat the printer a few times, “I still have an incident report to print out.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes at the mention of your task. “Leave it until the morning. It’s all formality anyway.”
“I would never have guessed that one of the greatest sound engineers in our company is a troublemaker.”
He chuckles at your teasing grin. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes as he murmurs, with a voice so low that goosebumps appear on your skin, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Your thoughts slow to a crawl as he pins you with his gaze. Was his face always this close to you? Breathing becomes secondary as your heart hammers in its cage. What was he thinking behind those rich irises?
“Yoongi, I…” you begin, but you’re not sure what you wanted to say next.
The spell breaks when his lips curl up into an easygoing smile. “Come on.” Yoongi stands and offers you a hand. “I’ll help you with the printer, only if you promise to get a drink with me.”
Bewildered at his sudden offer, you can only muster a nod as he helps you stand.
“Okay, let’s see what’s going on with this thing…”
You watch Yoongi work on the printer for a few minutes, though really, your mind is drifting further away as the feelings you thought had disappeared seem to resurface back into reality. After opening two separate compartments in the printer, Yoongi’s able to find the source of the jam and removed it, instructing you to press a few buttons on the small LCD screen. Like magic, the flashing red warning sign stops and a little jingle resounds instead before the machine begins to spit out your documents into the tray.
“How did you…” you begin, staring in awe as the printer staples your report together.
“Well, the IT guys were taking a long time to appear this one time and our team really needed to print some reports. Since no one seemed to know what to do, I just rolled up my sleeves and opened it to find the issue,” he explains as he hands you the stack of paper. “Ever since then, every time this printer acts up, my team usually comes to me for help.”
Yoongi flashes an amused smirk in your direction as he wipes his toner-covered hands with a handkerchief. “So, ready for that drink?”
The walk to the trendy bar just a little way outside of your office is filled with a round of 20 questions. It’s strange to see Yoongi in this light, so animated and full of life. He talked about college; how he switched majors from business despite his parents’ disapproval. In return, you talk about your favourite musicians before learning that you listen to similar genres.
When you enter the mostly full bar and squeeze yourselves into the booth, the conversation never ceases, only stopping briefly when a waiter comes to take your order. Not wanting to drink on an empty stomach, you ordered a plate of appetizers – wings and nachos – to accompany your liquor.
“Good choice. They have the best nachos here,” Yoongi comments just as the waiter takes your menu and leaves.
“Oh? Do you come here often?”
“Yeah. They have live music a few times a month and my friend recently got a gig here, so I showed up to support him.” Yoongi points to the dim stage area where a microphone and a singular chair stand.
“That’s sweet of you! Okay, what else don’t I know about you, Yoongi… Do you have a secret identity? Office worker by day, criminal mastermind by night?” you tease.
Yoongi laughs into his hand, shaking his head. “Oh, if I was a criminal mastermind, I wouldn’t be stuck working at an office job. I’d just steal a bunch of money so I can live in peace.”
Just as you begin to ask about his plans for conquering the world, your food and drinks arrive, holding off the conversation for a later time. You’re too busy munching on your nachos and sipping your liquor of choice that it takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi stopped eating.
“What’s up?” you ask.
Yoongi studies you as he brings the glass of beer to his lips. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re finally yourself again.”
“It helps that I have a friend to talk to,” you beam. “Thanks for taking me out tonight too.”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiles. “Sorry, I got a bit in my head there because I felt like I was pushing you to go when you didn’t want to.”
“Honestly? I’m glad you did. If not, I would’ve been at home alone to just drink myself under. That can’t be healthy.”
“Oh, and drinking in a relatively crowded bar is?” he fires back before bursting into laughter.
“That’s not what I meant!” you protest with a pout, stuffing your face full of nachos.
You continue to eat until only the platter empties. Through the night, the empty glasses beside you increase in quantity as you let yourself go with the flow of conversation and music. Once, Yoongi made you try something called a ‘Blue Moon’, his favourite beer imported from the Midwestern area of the United States that is served with a slice of orange.
“That reminds me, I never thanked you for the tangerines you leave on my desk,” you muse, drinking the last of the beer. The citrusy taste lingers on your tongue even as you switch over to chug a glass full of water.
Yoongi grins as he raises his glass. “Of course. A good job always deserves a reward.”
“Oh, and what kind of reward are you looking for?” You couldn’t help but snort when Yoongi chokes on his drink.
“You’ll pay for this one day,” he pouts as he cleans up his mess with a napkin.
Sure, your day was less than stellar, but after the Yoongi’s presence, you couldn’t help the smile that found its way into your face as you crawled into bed.
The next couple of days after the incident was just as you expected. The office is abuzz with gossip when you enter, with some brave folks asking if what transpired during Namjoon’s office was true. You confirmed what little you could, preferring to keep the details of your write up a secret, away from loose lips.
Though the energy surrounding your team has shifted, some are wary of working with Dowon in the event that another leak, your spirits lift slightly when you spy a familiar round orange fruit on top of your files this morning. Unlike all the other instances however, this one has a note attached to it.
“Drinks are on me tonight.”
And maybe… just maybe, things aren’t so bad after all.
“Fuck!” You slam the empty glass to the table, causing a few patrons to look over in your direction.
“Whoa, settle down there.” Yoongi’s comforting presence has not placated your anger the way it normally would.
Despite the launch happening within less than a month, your team is behind on some of the last-minute touches for the characters, making you work overtime for the past few days now. Speaking of the devil, your phone chimes and you spy the email that one of your employees sent you, asking for approval on a last-minute design change.
You type your confirmation with a low grumble under your breath, upset that even with the weekend within sight, your team is still hard at work.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you mutter as you lock your phone and stash it back in your purse. “I’m sure it’s hellish on your end too and I’m taking this out on you.”
“I guess I should feel honoured?” he snickers, raising his glass to you. “When you were written up, you barely opened up to me and now look at us, drinking away our stress in the same booth every other day.”
You tap the bottom of his beer with your glass before taking a sip, grimacing as the liquor burns its way down your throat. “Well, it beats drinking alone,” you sigh.
Over the past month now, ever since the incident, you and Yoongi have made a point to meet at the bar every now and again, mostly to complain about work.
“Your blood pressure is off the charts, huh?”
“I feel like I’ll probably die before I reach 40 if this is how my team handles every launch,” you grumble, not affected by his joviality.
“Relax, tomorrow’s Friday! And then we have a long weekend ahead of us. Just bear with it for one more day, okay?”
You grumble an unintelligible response as you sip on your drink. Numb from the drinks, you’re not as perceptive as you usually are, completely missing the way he’s currently staring at you. His lips are downturned as he absentmindedly drums his fingers on the side of his beer before he finally pipes up.
“You know… I can help you with that. Your stress, I mean. I know that this was pretty much my idea – to get drunk and forget the stress” – you can’t help but raise your glass and chug as he continues to speak – “but I may have a healthier alternative.”
“Okay, spill. What do you have in mind?”
“I can always make you cum.”
As though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb in your time together, Yoongi continues to drink his beer nonchalantly, while your mind struggles to comprehend what he just said.
“I’m sorry… what? Are you serious?”
“Of course, I am,” he shrugs. “I mean, I heard an orgasm is the best way to get over your stress and I’m pretty confident in my abilities.”
Your brain is unable to form the correct syllables to convey your thoughts.
The fact that Yoongi finds you attractive is a miracle in itself, especially when he walks around charming everyone in the office with his swoopy black hair and easy smile. Maybe your crush on him is slowly rearing its head again after all these years, but you aren’t sure if you’re willing to risk changing the relationship you currently have. Being Yoongi’s friend has been easy; he’s a great listener and you’re only scratching the surface behind the quiet exterior he presents.
However, somewhere deep inside, you must’ve wanted to change the dynamic to something more, or else why would you be questioning his proposal so intently?
While you’re busy staring into the amber liquid in your glass, Yoongi reaches out to cover the back of your hand with his, breaking you from the internal struggle in your mind. “Hey, if you’re not into it, don’t worry,” he chuckles, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just offering my services. No strings attached, kind of deal.”
The question stands: why? As you stare into the hand that’s currently enveloping yours, you can’t fathom why someone like Yoongi would give you the time of day. It didn’t seem real – his proposal. But then, your gaze drifts to his face and after spending so much time with him, you know that Yoongi isn’t one to joke around.
“Don’t think about it too hard, okay?” He speaks just as he spies the waiter coming towards you with your check. “Looks like the bar’s going to close pretty soon. So, how about we get out of here and call it a night?”
That night, you toss and turn in your sheets, feeling a sense of emptiness. You can’t help but replay the scene from the bar – specifically Yoongi's nonchalant proposal.
Unable to sleep, you think. And then you think some more. Until your head is swimming with alcohol and something else.
And that’s when you call Yoongi at 3:22 in the morning, slightly surprised that he’s still awake.
"On the topic of what we talked about in the bar tonight…” you begin, biting your bottom lip nervously.
Yoongi groans on the other line. “I’m serious when I said you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re cool. If you’re not into the idea, I get—”
You cut him off before he could ramble further, smirking into the phone. “How confident are you?”
Instead of answering, Yoongi chuckles. “Wear a skirt and you’ll find out tomorrow, hm?”
It isn’t strange for you to be seated next to Yoongi during the manager’s meeting, especially since how closely you have to work with the sound department, but you can’t help but squirm in your seat as you attempt to listen to Namjoon summarizing the development reports he received in preparation for the launch.
Your seat is pushed almost flushed against the table, with the edge digging into your abdomen, to hide Yoongi’s fingers that are currently trailing ambiguous shapes into your skin. Coupled with the fact that he’s currently holding your panties hostage in the pockets of his slacks, every time you feel the cold bite of his metal rings when he travels higher, you clench around nothing while trying not to whine in front of the twenty-something people gathered in the room.
Taking a chance to look around the room, you’re only met with bored faces and yawning mouths, and there’s a subtle groan when Namjoon moves the PowerPoint slides to talk about last season’s numbers. However, whatever brilliant revelation he’s about to impart on you is drowned out by the roaring desire when Yoongi’s fingertips brush against your folds.
He whistles low while staring at the pie chart, and the few chuckles floating from the back of the room assume that he’s talking about the high numbers last season brought in, when in actuality, Yoongi’s pleasantly surprised at how wet you already are; your pussy sucking his fingers in down to the second knuckle.
The breath leaves your lungs when Namjoon raises an eyebrow when his gaze floats over to the two of you.
“Tell me about it. You really knocked it out of the park with the background music for the new area,” he chuckles, nodding his praise to Yoongi.
The corner of Yoongi’s lips twitch, a smirk threatening to take over his features. Oh, if only your coworkers knew.
Your poor bottom lip is bruised and swollen from your constant need to swallow down your moans. Sweat slicks all over your arms and back as you sit rigid, your legs pushed apart, and Yoongi’s unhurried fingers traverse your sopping cunt, taking care not to make too much noise in the otherwise quiet meeting room.
“All right, that’s pretty much all I have for you today. Thanks for letting me drone on for an hour,” he winces when he looks at the clock, “…and a half. Enjoy the rest of the day,” Namjoon chuckles as he adjourns the meeting.
You exhale gradually when Yoongi leaves your cunt as the others begin to stand. On one hand, you’re relieved, grateful that you weren’t caught because you were definitely breaking a slew of code violations while you’re getting handsy on the table. On the other, the strong need to orgasm only surges in your veins, wanting nothing more than to have Yoongi fuck you right then and there; consequences be damned.
“Aren’t you getting up?” Yoongi quips, an amused grin on his face.
You glower at his smirk, unable to form a sensible comeback with your heartbeat still steadfast on a thundering rhythm. When you do get out of your chair, the grip you hold on to the back is strong, your legs feeling like jelly after being teased for so long.
“I’m fine,” you grumble as Yoongi extends a hand – the one that was inside of you just mere moments ago.
With your shaky legs, you walk stiffly out of the meeting room, but not after stealing a glance around the remaining crowd to see if anyone noticed anything strange. Everyone, including Namjoon, seemed indifferent.
“And how was that?” Yoongi questions once you’re out of earshot.
“Unbelievably hot. I think I could’ve cum if Namjoon kept on talking,” you admit with a grin.
“Interesting,” he hums. “Do you have any meetings after this?”
Before answering his question, you look through your phone calendar. “Nope, I don’t have anything until 2pm.” That’s a lie – you meant to check in with your artists all day today, but the curiosity got the better of you and you wonder what it was he has planned.
“Come to my office in half an hour? I’ll make sure we’re undisturbed.”
Though he posed it as a question, you know it’s anything but.
Yoongi walks away with a smirk and you have to bring your legs together as you anticipate what he has planned next.
This is nothing like the meeting this morning.
Yoongi has you pressed up against the copier, holding your leg up as his fingers return to their rightful place inside you. The metal bits dig into your shoulders as you shift your hips, allowing him access into your deepest parts.
The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut in time with his thrusts. The sleeves of his dress shirt are seeped with your arousal, yet Yoongi doesn’t care, too focused on your pussy swallowing his fingers whole.
“Look at you,” he breathes, marvelling at the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. “So needy and wet. Keep your voice down, hm? We don’t want the whole office to hear us, do we?”
You inhale sharply before busying yourself with your bottom lip as he slams his hand repeatedly inside, his fingertips stroking the patch of nerves that has your body jerking in his grip. The coil has been building for some time now – your head is already swimming with desire. When his thumb presses circles on your clit, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you come undone.
“S-So close,” you whimper. You’re arching your back as you’re practically sprawled all over the copy machine.
“Just let go, cum all over my hands,” he rasps before dipping lower to graze his teeth along your pulse point. “Cum for me.”
With a strangled moan, your body obeys his command. “Yoongi—fuck.”
While your team is out there, perfecting the project that’s due in a matter of weeks, you’re pulled apart at the seams – the orgasm slamming into you like waves as it cascades down your spine, making you shudder.
“Good girl, so good to me,” Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly into your hair. “So pretty when you cum.”
Your vision is blurry, filled with dancing lights as you attempt to calm your breathing. When Yoongi slips his fingers out of your cunt, you hiss, aching at the sensitivity. He massages your thighs with a hum, paying attention to the leg that was propped up for the entire duration of the… events.
“How’d I do?” he teases as he helps you smooth out the wrinkles from your skirt.
You’re honestly still reeling. Though your heart isn’t traveling a thousand miles an hour, it’s still clocking in the upper hundreds. Yet, your body did feel lighter, your mind also clearer somehow. You must admit, Yoongi orchestrated your body like an expert conductor – as though he’s known you all your life. No one has made you cum that quickly before.
Perhaps you should’ve kept those thoughts to yourself because you can see the way Yoongi seems to glow at your compliment: pride filling his chest along with a confident smirk on his face.
“Now, can I have my panties back, please?” you whisper as you hold out your hand.
Yoongi seemed to think for a moment, his lips turned upwards to the side. At your amusement and horror, he shakes his head. “I think I’ll hold on to these for the rest of the day.”
“Yoongi,” you state flatly, nervousness clawing up your belly, but you can’t deny the thrill either, so you don’t push it.
After he makes sure that no one seems to be paying attention to the copy room, Yoongi helps you sneak away, but not before filling your thoughts with some of his other ideas.
Your day passes like a blur, and you find yourself locking your legs more often as your distracted brain thinks about the events that happen this morning. The idea of Yoongi walking around the office with your lace underwear stuffed in his slacks makes poor company when you’re trying to work.
Too engrossed in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that your assistant had let herself in until she called your name again with a cough.
“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly. “I’m a bit distracted right now.”
Your assistant merely smiled demurely as she hands you a stack of reports you requested. “Here’s the information on the developments we’ve made over the past few months and the breakdown of the new region from the programmers for next year’s launch. We can start meeting with them to talk about what they want the art team to start working on.”
You skim through the details, humming along as your assistant explains the finer points of what is written. “Thank you, Suha. This looks good,” you praise.
Suha bows to you with a proud smile, but instead of leaving, she shifts her weight as she stands. “Actually, I was wondering if I could leave in half an hour?” she requests.
A mischievous idea pops in your head and you have to thread your hands together to avoid immediately texting a certain dark-haired man. “Sure,” you chirp in a voice too high as you fail to hide your excitement. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Yes, Suha. You’ve done a good job. Please feel free to leave now if you’d like.”
Suha claps her hands together and bows. “Thank you!” she calls out before disappearing.
When the door to your office closes shut, you fire out a text and hum, fingers drumming impatiently on the oak table as you wait for Yoongi to arrive.
“Took you long enough,” you smirk when he opens the door.
“Well, unlike some people, I was busy managing my team.”
Poking his head one more time to make sure that no one’s noticed his arrival, Yoongi closes the door firmly behind him, locking it in place.
“Now, why have you brought me into your office, hm?” he asks rhetorically before stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out the familiar garment. “Could it be because of this?”
You laugh quietly with a shake of your head. “Maybe it has something to do with that,” you muse, watching him approach with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Or maybe it’s because I’m just so stressed, you know?”
Yoongi chuckles at your insinuation before leaning forward until your faces are inches apart. “And,” he husks, wetting his lips with his tongue, “How can I help you?”
You hum as you grab him by the collar, crashing your lips against his as an answer to his question. In a spectacular feat, Yoongi’s strong arms lift you up from across the table, pulling you flush against his chest as he sits you down in front of him. Your legs wrap around his torso, causing your skirt to rise to display your bare pussy towards him.
Yoongi’s rough hands dig into the meat of your thighs as he grinds into your core. “Tell me. How did it feel walking around the office with no panties all day, hm?”
“Exhilarating,” you admit in a breathless moan, body aflame with desire as you feel his erection drag against your clit.
“And look at you now, so needy and ready for more. What do you think your team would say if they saw you like this?” Every few words are punctuated with Yoongi’s fingers undoing the buttons to your blouse.
“God, don’t ask me that,” you pout, arching your chest forward. “I don’t want to think about work right now.”
At this, he laughs. “Have you been thinking about work at all during the day? Some might say you’re a little distracted.”
Yoongi cuts off whatever retort you had prepared when he kisses along your jawline and down your neck, nipping the skin just harsh enough to send shivers down your spine, as he continues his mission to free your tits from their cage.
“Pretty,” he mumbles into your skin while palming your breasts.
The combined stimulation is almost too much for you to handle. With his hard cock dragging against your bare cunt and his lips attacking your neck, it doesn’t take long before your skin is riddled with goosebumps as you clamp your lips shut to stop yourself from moaning too loudly.
You find a moment of clarity when Yoongi unbuttons his pants, but just as you reach out to help him, a knock resounds at the door.
The two of you looked at each other in a momentary state of panic as you buttoned up your blouse in haste. Your hands tremble, making it hard for the plastic beads to slip into place, but somehow you managed to not wrinkle your clothes too much, though your heart thunders in your ears when you hear Namjoon, of all people, call your name from the other side of the door.
Making sure you’re both half decent, you unlock the door and yank it open, revealing a startled Namjoon in front of you.
“Uh… hey. Are you okay? Why was your door locked?”
You’re sweating and shaking, almost getting caught by your boss will do that to a person, but somehow you manage a curt nod, and when you lie, your voice actually sounded believable. “Yeah, just got a call about some interesting news from my family. How can I help you?”
Namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before shaking his head. “How about we talk inside?”
“That… um…” Your brain stalls for an excuse but fails. With a dejected heart, thinking that you’re probably going to get fired at this rate, you seal your fate and let your boss in… only to find yourself staring into an empty office.
Where had Yoongi gone?
Namjoon closes the door behind you and makes his way to your desk. You trail after him but before glancing around the room again. You find your answer when you sit down in your chair. Hunched under the desk is Yoongi, who has both his feet tucked under his chin as he grins at you. If Namjoon catches the way your eyes widen in surprise, he says nothing as you sit down.
“I’m just here to see how you’re doing, especially with the launch happening so soon. Is there anything I can help you with?”
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, especially when you accidentally brush against Yoongi’s leg. “I really appreciate the offer, but you really don’t have to check in on me every single time we have a launch. This isn’t my first time, sir.”
Your boss only sighs, sinking into the chair. “I know, truth be told, I wanted to tell you that I’m in the process of getting your write up to disappear from the HR records since it’s really not your fault.”
“Wait… huh?” You blink at Namjoon slowly, genuinely surprised that he’d go through such lengths.
Namjoon only shrugs. “Yeah, I mean. I feel pretty awful about it. So, I pulled some strings and you have been granted your clean record back. That’s all I wanted to say, really. It just didn’t seem right if I brought it up in the hallway,” he grins, showing off his dimpled cheeks as he finished his explanation.
“Thanks, boss,” you mumble gratefully. “It means a lot to me that you’d do that.”
“Don’t mention it.” Namjoon chuckles. “Anyway, what’s with the interesting call? Is your family okay?”
“Yeah,” you squeak, unprepared for him to call out your lie. “They’re okay, I swear. Just some trouble with my cousins…”
Namjoon seems satisfied with your response, nodding after you trailed off. The silence feels suffocating. After a few more heartbeats, Namjoon stands to leave, calling out behind his shoulder as he opens the door, “Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me.”
The instant the door clicks shut, you jump away from your chair as you help Yoongi stand.
“You all right?” you ask, looking him up and down before deeming that he’s fine.
The easy-going smile returns to his face almost immediately, giving you a full view of his gums. “That could’ve been bad.” Yoongi checks his watch and smiles, pointing at the time. “But, it’s now technically the weekend. So, how about we pack our things and get the hell out of here, huh?”
Yoongi’s apartment is everything like you’d imagine, clean and monochromatic with hints of blue popping here and there. Lining the walls of his bedroom are framed jerseys from a few athletes you recognize, all of them signed and probably costing a good fortune. Besides the decoration, there’s really only one other piece of furniture aside from the bed. Standing on the wall closest to the window is a black floor-to-ceiling bookcase, filled with all sorts of books and a few random photographs of his younger years.
But you have no time to observe fully, not when Yoongi pushes you on the bed with a quiet chuckle, demanding your attention once more as he kisses the length of your throat.
“Now, where were we?” he teases into your skin.
You can only giggle before the sound turns into a groan when his hand digs into the skin of your ass. “I have no idea, but I say, let’s just fuck.”
“Good answer.”
Yoongi doesn’t care to discard your clothing, choosing to simply ruck your skirt to your waist before his hands fit between your legs.
“Yoongi—ah! Stop teasing!” you whine, pressing your back into the mattress as you writhe under his touch.
“Not until I get a taste of you first.”
With a final peck to your lips, Yoongi drops to the edge of the bed before pulling you towards him until you feel his hot breath against your pussy. He takes his time with eating you out – alternating between licking your folds and sucking on your clit – as you moan and gasp around him. Your arousal seeps out of you in a steady trickle, a puddle forming on his sheets.
“Shit…” you grunt. “Do I taste that good?”
“You do,” he mumbles, the deep vibrations from his voice causing you to arch your back. “God, I can taste you all day.”
True to his word, he drowns himself with your pussy, paying more attention to your clit as you feel the orgasm slowly spreading through your body.
“Yoongi, wait,” you breathe, tugging at his dark locks so he’d look at you.
And what a sight he is to behold.
The bottom half of his face is wet with your arousal as he smirks up at you with pupils so blown out, they’re almost black.
“I wanna cum with your cock inside of me,” you confess, sitting up to pull him into a deep kiss. “Haven’t you teased me enough today?”
Yoongi hums into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body before pushing you back down to the mattress. “I guess that can be arranged,” he chuckles.
With your help, his slacks and underwear are thrown haphazardly on the floor. His cock stands proudly for you to admire; with a leaking reddish tip and a prominent vein running down one side of the shaft. Unable to help yourself, your hand wraps around his length, causing Yoongi to groan as his eyes flutter shut.
“I thought you wanted my cock?” he teases breathlessly.
“Not before I get a taste,” you counter.
Chuckling, he props his pillows along the headboard before settling back, making it easier for you to crawl over and swallow his length. Intent on keeping eye contact, you make short licks around the head before travelling lower, sucking on the tender skin of his balls before moving back up.
“Oh, fuck—” he grunts, hips jumping up when you wrap your lips around the tender head.
While still staring at him through your lashes, you lower yourself until about halfway, the weeping head knocking against the back of your throat making it hard for you to breathe. You hollow your cheekbones as you exit, earning a lovely, guttural groan from the dark-haired man below. Yoongi places a hand on your head as you continue, pumping him in tandem with the movements of your head as you bob up and down his length.
Your remaining hand digs into the skin of his thigh as you take him deeper down your throat, until you manage to sheathe all of him down to the base. Tears spring in your eyes as you whimper around his length, but despite this, you refuse to stop, not when you spy the satisfied smirk on his face that only aids the desire that’s already strong in your veins.
The grip around your scalp tightens as he attempts to pull you off. “I can’t… I’m going to cum if you keep this up.”
His words only add fuel to the fire and you speed up your ministrations despite Yoongi’s attempts to make you stop. Saliva collects into a wet, messy pool on the sheets as you swallow him into your throat. The tears cascade down your face, yet you can’t help but smirk proudly, especially when his lovely eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs open as he chants your name.
“Fuuuck, I’m going to c-cum—shit!”
You inhale sharply as you push your head down, until his soft curls tickles your nose. A second later, your mouth fills with the salty, bitter taste of cum as Yoongi jerks under your touch, digging his nails into the sheets. You help Yoongi ride out his orgasm with a few pumps of your hand, making sure to collect all the excess without leaving a drop behind. When you’re sure there’s nothing left, you open your mouth to show him your reward before gulping it down with a smile.
With ragged breaths, he watches you swallow with a quirk of his lips; one of the corners pulled up into a half-smirk. “God, that was so fucking hot.”
“It’s your reward for making me feel good this morning,” you wink.
“Are you ready for round 2?” Yoongi asks with a grin.
“I should be asking you that…” But your words trail off when you notice that his dick is still very much hard. “Talk about stamina,” you mumble.
Yoongi chortles as he studies your shell-shocked face. “You look like you’ve never been properly satisfied,” he hums.
“After tonight? I have a feeling that may be the case.”
The two of you burst into laughter before he pulls you closer, kissing you unhurriedly as his hands explore your body to discard your clothes until you lay bare before him.
“You really are gorgeous,” he mumbles as he draws abstract shapes into the small of your back. Catching your eye roll, he chuckles. “I mean it.”
When he sits up to capture your lips, it’s all soft and filled with an emotion you’ve yet to name, and you wished your blood wasn't roaring in your ears because it’s making it incredibly difficult for you to hear what he’s whispering into your skin.
“What were you saying?” you ask when you part. “I think I missed it.”
Yoongi only smiles, but it’s not the brilliant grin that shows the pink of his gums, no, this one is more subdued – delicate – as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Nothing,” he replies, voice low and airy. “I didn’t say anything you don’t already know.”
It’s a strange response, but you really can’t push it further, because in the swirling abyss that exists in the dark pool of his eyes, lies an answer that you’re uncertain you want to know just yet.
Instead, you kiss him again, gliding your lips to get his to open, so your tongues can meet and have the conversation you’re too afraid to voice – for the sake of preserving the moment. You kiss him with ferocity, pushing him back onto the pillows as your hips grind against his hard length.
And when you lower yourself onto his cock, you forget the vow you made, because in this moment, with the moonlight filtering past the sheer curtains in his room, Yoongi is breath-taking. With his soft, dark hair splaying all over the pillows and his slightly swollen lips parted open in a quiet moan; you know you’ve fallen in love. Yoongi’s sincerity is your undoing, ever since the two of you met and sat next to each other when you were interns, and now? As you learn more about him and manage to breach through the quiet exterior? You’re a goner.
And maybe you’re delusional, but you swear, when your lips find his as you begin to move, you can taste the faintest trace of oranges.
Your nails drag down his chest as you roll your hips with his thrusts. “Please,” you beg, but you’re not sure what for. “Please, Yoongi.”
Despite your lack of instructions, Yoongi seems to know exactly what you need. “I got you,” he murmurs as he holds you before flipping you over, letting your chest rest on the mattress below.
Yoongi kisses your spine as he bottoms out again, making you moan into his pillows as he begins to move. “You’re so tight, shit,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit between your legs.
He keeps a steady pace, rocking you back and forth against the bed as you writhe with every drag of his cock and fingers. The only word that exists in your vocabulary at this moment is his name and without shame, you call out to him in a series of pathetic whines. You need him to know how good you feel, but without the ability to form coherent sentences, this is all you can do.
Though just like before, it doesn’t take him long to decipher your tells and he increases his speed, driving his cock deep into your pussy.
Finally, your tongue seems to want to move again. “Feels good… Yoongi…” you manage.
“Yeah? Me too. God, me too.”
He turns you over again then, so that you’re facing him once more. Yoongi crashes his lips to yours as he begins to thrust in earnest, pushing himself deeper than before. Your vision is filled with stars as you grab hold of his neck, rutting in tandem with his drive. What little hold you have left on your sanity wanes as the pressure builds – release so close that it leaves you gasping.
“Gonna-ah c-cum,” you moan, digging your nails into his back.
“Let go,” he commands, and again, he repeats, “I got you.”
The coil snaps at the sound of his promise. “Yoongi!” you shriek, tumbling down the chasm of pleasure. Your walls tightening around his length triggers a second orgasm from him, and with a groan of your name, he floods your insides with his seed.
“Shit… I didn’t—fuck—you felt so good, that I, uhm,” he stutters. Yoongi’s body shudders with pleasure even as he comes down from his high. With a heaving gasp, he collapses next to you, arms too tired to hold himself back up.
You pull him into an embrace while shushing his mumbled speech. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m on the pill, so don’t worry,” you assure him. “And if you’re worried if I came, didn’t you hear me scream? My throat is so sore now, holy shit.”
The both of you chuckle, the airy sounds mingling together. In the silence that follows, you don’t think about the feelings that surged in the midst of your coupling; refusing to acknowledge that he’s the reason that has your heart running a thousand miles a second. It isn’t just because of the nature of your relationship, but you’re genuinely worried of the possibility of losing a friend… and yet… Yoongi feels so perfect in your arms like this, with his smiling face smushed slightly to your chest. In the singular day since you’ve started this relationship, he’s made a habit of trailing shapes on the small of your back while humming quietly to a song you don’t know.
The soothing action pulls you away from your overbearing thoughts for a second. While planting a kiss into his hair, you ask him, “What’s the name of this song?”
“You like it?” Yoongi nuzzles further into your skin, breathing you in. “It’s my own original piece. It’s called ‘First Love’ and I wrote it about my piano back in my mother’s house.”
In your time together, Yoongi’s never mentioned his family or much of his childhood really, though you never thought to ask about them either.
“Music will forever be my first love,” he hums, dark eyes turning glassy as he recalls the memories. “I remembered slaving so hard over the keys that by the time I managed to master my first classical piece without making any mistakes, it drove me to tears,” Yoongi chuckles. “Ever since then, I practiced like a mad man, every single day after school. Just to play one piece after the next. My mother was mad; not because I was making too much noise, but because my studies suffered a lot.”
Your silence allows him to continue, but not before he peeks at you to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep. When your eyes meet his, the two of you smile, but his is much wider, a perfect showcase displaying his pearly teeth. He rolls over so your head lies on his chest, and his hand moves to trace shapes on your shoulder instead.
“My mother threatened to take the piano away, so I ended up working extra hard, on both music and my grades, but somehow it still wasn’t enough. There’s a time when she came into my room and ripped a bunch of the music sheets that I’ve painstakingly collected,” he sighs sadly, casting a faraway look towards the ceiling.
Your heart bleeds as he recites some of the words to the song. The lyrics personifies music as though it truly was his first love, but one line leaves your heart aching and shattered: Without you, I’m nothing.
It’s the decisive and almost unhealthy, nature of the words that cuts you deep. You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but it sounded like he’s shackled to his muse; needing it solely to live.
However, Yoongi isn’t seeking validation, nor is he looking for you to disagree, so you keep your mouth shut as he continues to talk about his life – about having to work two to three jobs while going through college and once he graduated, unable to find a suitable job in his field that lead him to work with Helion today.
“And that’s when I met you,” he chuckles as he tightens his embrace. “Something about you reminds me of the day I learned Chopin for the first time.”
“Why? Because I make you want to be a better person?” you tease, poking him lightly on the cheek.
Yoongi looks down at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
When you wake up the next day, the sun is peeking into the otherwise dark room through the crack in the blackout curtains. The bed next to you is empty, though the lingering warmth from its previous occupant tells you that he left not too long ago. Sure enough, you find a note on the nightstand tucked under the glass of water.
Gone out for bagels. Text me your order.
You’re smiling as you down the glass, reading the swoops of letters repeatedly before reaching for your phone.
You: just a plain bagel with cream cheese. Strong coffee. Please and thank you. Yoongi: yep.
That one simple text turns you into a giggling mess as you shove the screen close to your face.
Setting your phone aside, your thoughts are too deeply intertwined with yesterday’s events that you can’t help the burning desire that flows through you once more. You’re satisfied; of course, you are, but the thought of spending another day with him, without having to worry about work for another day, especially with the launch being so soon, has you melting into his sheets.
Your breathing hitches as you close your eyes and lay back on the bed, caressing your own skin like Yoongi did the night before. Your fingers pale in comparison to his, yet you let the memories guide you as you tremble with every drag of touch against your clit.
“Yoongi—” you mumble into the quiet morning air.
You press your face closer to his side of the bed and the familiar scent of his cologne has you careen closer to the edge. The whine you let out is nothing short of pathetic as you rut desperately into your hand while your mind conjures up an image of Yoongi leaning against the doorway, bagels abandoned in the kitchen while he studies your actions with amusement.
“Jesus, wetting the bed so early in the morning?” He’d tut, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Guess you can’t get enough of my cock, huh?”
“N-No… need you,” you whisper, hips raised from the bed as your fingers work quicker – wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs to make their mark on the sheets below. “Fuck—need you so badly.”
You press your head into the pillow while you crowd your pussy with another finger. It isn’t enough – nothing compares to the sheer girth of his cock and how effectively it stretches you out to make a mess out of you.
It requires three of your fingers for you to feel full as you replace your hand with the veiny arms belonging to Yoongi in your mind. You imagine him leaning over you with his signature, ever-present smirk on his face as you writhe under his touch. He’d provoke you to be louder, punctuating his words with every drag of his fingers against the patch of nerves in your cunt so that everyone could hear who this pussy belongs to.
It’s sudden – how the forest fire eclipses your whole body that snaps the coil in half. All because your filthy mind conjures up a final image of Yoongi commanding you to let go.
“Shitshitshit—Fuck! Yoongi!” You cum with an embarrassingly broken whine of his name, your fingers plunging deep into your pulsing hole that causes your arousal to squirt on the bed below.
You crash back to the reality of the bed with ragged breaths. The room spins slightly when you open your eyes and you have to blink several times to get the squiggly lines to float away from your vision.
When your breath evens out, you survey the room you’ve neglected in the heat of the moment. You didn’t get a chance to see very much of it last night and with your brain so occupied this morning, this was the perfect time to snoop into your coworker’s life.
Like the vague recollections of his living room, his bedroom is mostly devoid of furniture aside from the bed and the large floor to ceiling bookshelf on the further end of the wall. With nothing else to do, you hop from the bed to take a look at the books, smiling to yourself as you survey the rare photographs in each shelf of a younger Min Yoongi.
As your fingers trail the large tomes of stories, dictionaries, and magazines, you stop when you notice a gap between the end of the shelf and a copy of Don Quixote. Curious, your finger reaches into the gap to produce a small, yellow notebook the size of your palm. The title on the front is illegible, scrawled on by a small child, so you decide to delve through the pages to see what lurks behind.
You chuckle into the book as you read through entries dating as far back as the early 2000s. It’s a collection of poems – written by the one and only Min Yoongi. The earlier pages contain stories of playing outside and ice cream along with brief glimpses of his intelligence as he laments about the fleeting nature of summer.
You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he’s continued the tradition as you study the entries, his once messy handwriting morphing into the swoop of cursive you’re familiar with. It’s interesting to see his life in small glimpses: his teenage self agonizes over his future while the Yoongi in his early twenties begin to explore topics of dreams and goals.
You read each sentence carefully in an attempt to retain all the emotions he’s spilled on the page. Who knew that Yoongi has such an artistic mind?
When you reach the more recent entries, you hesitate, wondering if it’s all right for you to read through them. Unfortunately, your curiosity outweighs the small voice of conscience, so you pressed on.
The thought of Yoongi hunched over his bed scribbling into the tiny notebook makes you smile. You imagine the way his shoulders would curve inwardly while he balances the pages on his lap and that devilish tongue of his would wet his lips occasionally as he thinks.
You suppress a groan as your treacherous mind recalls what that tongue did to you the night before.
Shaking the dirty thoughts away, you return your attention to the last entry on the page. Unlike its predecessors, this one is short, containing only a title and a single line. However, the title itself is confusing - a seemingly random mix of consonants and vowels forming a word you know for sure does not exist in the English language. You figure it’s some sort of code, but your sluggish mind refuses to piece together the anagram, still dipped in sleep and the aftereffects of your orgasm. You grab your phone with a sigh, employing trusty, old Google to do its job. When you input the title into the search bar, for once, autocorrect comes to your rescue… but at what cost?
Disbelief exists in the knot of your eyebrows until you reread the page in its entirety. Realization kicks in slowly, but when it does, you gasp, throwing the notebook and the device away to the floor as if they burned you.
Because the anagram spells out your full name. This entry was written for you.
And the disquiet in your stomach is due to the emotion so easily evoked by a single line, one that you’re all too familiar with:
Without you, I’m nothing.
“I’m back. I got a bunch of bagels because I wasn’t sure which one you liked,” Yoongi calls out as he enters the apartment.
The silence that greets him makes him smile as he assumes that you’re still tired after last night, but when Yoongi walks into the bedroom, your name dies on his lips as he looks on in horror: at the yellow notebook – his yellow notebook – lying face down in front of your feet. Your shell-shocked expression tells him all he needs to know. You’ve read the latest entry.
This all feels like déjà vu; just like the first time he caught you weeping in the copy room. His own bedroom feels foreign to him as he takes a hesitant step inside. Yoongi wants nothing more than to laugh it off as a joke, but he knows you won’t buy the lie.
His attention snaps from the swirling patterns on the carpet to your face. Instead of fear, you seem curious, could he take it as a good sign?
“How much did you read?”
The voice that comes out of his mouth sounds foreign even to his own ears.
Your eyes drift lower then, to the notebook on the floor. “All of it,” you admit in a quiet voice. “I read all of it.”
The room fills with a blanket of tension. With a heavy sigh, you stand and brush past him, heading to the living room.
Yoongi’s eyes trail after you as you sit on the cushions of his couch. With an indescribable smile, you look straight into his eyes.
“Let’s talk.”
Despite your invitation, it’s you that sits mum on the couch next to him, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I saw it, you know.” Yoongi begins with a humourless smile. “The discomfort you felt was written all over your face when I recited that one line.”
You wait for a bit, holding a space for him to talk should he feel the need to elaborate. “You know, I feel like I do the talking in our relationship, but I’m going to need you to listen to me again, okay?” you say as you mirror his solemn grin. After taking a shuddering breath, you explain, “I don’t want to be the sole reason you live, because without me, you should still be something. I mean, you’re so… you,” you gesture at his figure. “Funny, and kind, and sincere. Someone I can trust and even lean on after all these years.”
His face doesn’t betray his thoughts as he refuses to meet your eyes.
“Yoongi,” you reach out to envelope both his hands into your own. “I love you.”
You can tell he hadn’t expected the confession, but his surprise quickly disappears as he laughs bitterly.
“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in this confession?” Yoongi asks sarcastically and his lips twitch into a faint hint of a smile.
“But… I don’t want to be in a relationship where I feel like you’re not being true to yourself,” you advice as you squeeze his hands with your own. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you, but I just need you to know that you are your own person first.”
Yoongi nods as he digests your words. When he finally returns his gaze to you, he seems more relaxed, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he squeezes your hands in return. “I think I really needed to hear that.”
“So… what happens now?” you ask meekly, despite being the cause of this whole mess.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks, and when he does, there’s a quiet surge of confidence that you hadn’t heard from him before. “I want to be with you,” Yoongi admits. “But I think I’d also like to take things slow.”
“We can do that,” you grin.
And the following week, it’s you that leaves a tangerine on his desk; a signaling promise for tomorrow.
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moon’s notes: ah! don’t we love a semi-ambiguous ending? i didn’t have the heart to end it sadly, so i hope it still makes sense!! thank you so much for reading through this lovely little piece. i appreciate all your love!
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kimtaehyunq · 27 days ago
Down Bad [KTH&MYG]
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⟶ Down Bad [Taehyung x Female Reader x Yoongi] ⟶ Genre: Slice of Life | Smut | Poly ⟶ Warnings: pwp, boyfriend!taehyung, poly/threesome, sexual content, fingering, condom & unprotected, blow job, anal play, tit play, small spit section, hypersensitivity, some dirty talk, light gagging, etc ⟶ WC: 8.6k+ ⟶ Summary: To spice up your sex life even more, your boyfriend, Taehyung, suggests a brand-new offer to you. One that includes another piece of Daegu that is extremely hard to resist. ⟶ Teaser: ““Be a good girl,” he whispers.” ⟶ Beta: Thank you to both @yutasgalaxy​ and @balenciaguks​ for being great troopers and reading through my lengthy pwp! I appreciate both your time and patience with me! 🧡   ⟶ Author’s Note: Honestly, this idea came to me randomly. I had no plans to actually finish it out but, golly, I hope it’s good enough for those who wish to read it! Strongly pwp, really throw you right into there and end it just as fast. Enjoy! 
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“That’s it. That’s my girl,” Taehyung purrs into your skin as his teeth nip at your pert nipple. His tongue swirls around in a circle, wetting the area before his mouth encases the piece of flesh. “Keep making those soft moans for me.” 
You smile with a laugh, closing your eyes to relish the heightened sensations which arouses you further. You already miss watching the mop of fluffy black hair transitioning between each of your breasts, your boyfriend leaving open-mouth kisses to the bare surface. 
“Feels good,” you mumble while arching your back into him. 
A small plea escapes your mouth when you feel the tip of Taehyung’s member between his legs run along your dripping folds. The teasing action riles up your desperation even more. You clench with anticipation and eagerness, all the while your hands seek for his shoulders for comfort and preparation. You raise your hips, a subtle hint that eggs him on and alerts him of your need. 
“Please,” you whisper. “Please put it in; you’ve been teasing me all night. I want you.” 
A throaty groan releases from Taehyung the moment he pushes his cockhead through your silky walls. He starts shallow, slowly thrusting in and out as he savors the tight feeling of your pussy. 
You wrap your legs around his waist, opening up your centre for him to go deeper when he wishes. But you know your boyfriend, you know how he enjoys dragging out the taunting mechanics to draw out and play with your unsteady impatience with him. 
Taehyung seeks your mouth with his own, closing the space between the two of you. Here, you slink your arms around his back, fingertips pressing firmly against his skin while Taehyung rolls his hips further into you. He eases his girthy cock steadily for you to adjust to it; normally, your obsessive need for him to fill you is met with urgency, and he slams himself straight into your cunt. 
But today, you silently thank him for taking it softer. 
“God,” you sigh out loud. The immense pleasure radiating in your nether region stirs your feelings in a heated pot. “I love you, Tae.” 
His cock sinks as far as it can, lightly kissing your cervix and sending a wave of pleasure throughout both of your bodies. 
“I love you too, Y/n.” He gives you a tiny chuckle before kissing the round of your cheek. “You’re such a good girl for me. Feel so good.” 
Your growing smile breaks the moment Taehyung decides to pick up the pace, pulling himself out partially only to shift back in. You toss your head to the side with a mewl, fingers clinging onto Taehyung’s naked back as he tries lifting himself to better angle his hips. His obliques harden ever-so-slightly each time he thrusts into you, arm muscles flexing as he props himself up. A sheen of clear liquid covers his shaft and begins to spread around his pubic area, dampening the dark hair that surrounds the place. 
It doesn’t help that you and him took foreplay to a whole new level tonight, constantly beating around the bush with tender touches and naughty words. Ghosting lips and light scratches. His playfulness is the key to your undoing each and every time. You never expect yourself to be hot and bothered in the most random of places until it comes to Taehyung, a man who knows how to excite your insides with everything he does. Just one look 一 that look 一 can send your stomach into a knot full of fluttering butterflies. Luckily, this time you’re not in the back of a car after a long night out or a random piece of the woods where the two of you dare to get closer to nature.
It has happened more times than you can count. 
Tonight it is oddly simple, but still much appreciated as Taehyung presses himself into you on top of his queen sized bed in his apartment on 4th Avenue. Heat pressing into another's skin as he lays himself into you. 
Now that you have him and he has you, you’re seeking that promising orgasm that’s been building up in the deep pit of your cunt. Taehyung feels how excited and ready your body is, the endless tightening around his cock helps notify him. But he purposely holds off from applying pressure to your clit with his beautifully crafted fingers when you request 一 he has other plans for you tonight. 
“Babe,” he looks down at you. He's distracted momentarily with the way your tits jiggle in a rippling effect by the way his body hits into you. You hum as you bite your bottom lip, repressing those noises that you want to make. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know instantly that what he’s saying is something to be taken seriously. 
He wants to be heard. He needs you to listen.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Your mind is clouded with too much lust to comprehend the impact of his statement; what response Taehyung expects to see from you at first fails miserably. He slows his speed in favor of groping the meat of your thigh, running his large hand along the extent of it. 
“What surprise?” You blink, astonished at Taehyung. What on Earth does he have in mind at a time like this?
There is a small smirk that plays on Taehyung’s mouth when he squeezes at your ass cheek. The act makes him huff into the air; racing thoughts screaming at him to pound into you. Though, he resists the tempting contentment. 
Taehyung circles his pelvis around, hitting your walls at all different angles. It only serves to tease you further, stir you up and make you even thirstier for him. 
“What are your thoughts about fucking Yoongi?” 
Now that is a question you think you would never be asked, especially by your own boyfriend, who is currently balls deep into your pussy. You're stunned, to say the least. Eye’s flickering between Taehyung’s dark chocolate ones that look at you with a lustful haze.
“Y-Yoongi?” You question with concern. Taehyung continues to submerge himself into your walls while having this strange conversation topic. “Your hyung?”
At the moment you cannot tell if he’s actually being genuine, not from the way Taehyung nearly giggles from your alarmed reaction. Finally, his thumb comes between the two of your bodies to your exposed clit, adding pressure to the bundle of nerves that skyrockets your pleasure. 
“Mhm,” he muses. Taehyung thrusts into you with a deeper, harder drive, matching it with the growing speed of his nimble digit. “I’ve been noticing some things.”
You gasp at the tingly sensation that vibrates between your nerves, toes curling slightly as your legs and cunt clench tighter around Taehyung. It’s hot and sticky where your skins meet, a sweltering heat that continuously rises like a humid day near the Indus River. 
“Noticing what things?” You manage to speak as your fingers begin combing through Taehyung’s wavy locks. The focus on the tightening coil in your stomach calls to you distracts you and makes you more needier. 
“You’ve been looking at him. Checking him out,” he states rather nonchalantly. His face turns into your palm when you lower your hands to cup his cheeks. “The way your eyes trail on him longer than usual. Your small talks turns into actual conversations.”
“I don’t like him like that, Tae.”
“I know,” he smiles, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It’s completely unfair how a man can look so cute and hot at the same time while he is in the middle of fucking you the exact ways you need to be fucked. He gives you a semi devious smirk, eyes set to match the spontaneous spark he sends to you. “You’re in love with me and my cock. I never would doubt that.” 
He reminds you with a sharp thrust, laughing with you when you groan into the air at the impact. 
“God, Tae!” You furrow your brows. “I’m so close. Please let’s focus on what we’re doing.” Your eyebrows knit together with frustration, wanting Taehyung’s thumb to itch just the right spot on your clit to send you into the void of orgasmic bliss. 
“I am,” he insists. Taehyung pushes down on your clit, earning a jolt from you and dulling the pleasure on purpose. “But Yoongi is a part of this.” 
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door which snaps your attention. Though, Taehyung pays no mind to it. 
“Tae?” You squeal, whispering as you start to pull him closer on top of you out of pure reaction. “Did you lock the door?”
He ignores your question to lean his body higher, head away from you as he shouts, “come in!” 
It’s always been a little awkward whenever you and Taehyung manage to have sex at his apartment. Mainly because you know it can get… loud. It’s practically assumed that by now his roommates have heard of you two during at least one 一 or eight 一 of your sexcapaids. But it’s usually an untouched subject to talk about, understandably so. 
The moment the door cracks open and Yoongi pokes his head through you try to cover up your chest with both arms. You shout out a curse, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. 
“I told you twenty minutes, didn’t I?” Taehyung looks over at the slightly smaller stature of his roommate. He never falters his body from grinding into you, as if he isn’t bothered by Yoongi’s presence whatsoever. Shyfully hiding yourself from the man your boyfriend just outed you out about nearly seconds ago. 
“It’s been close to thirty,” Yoongi states. He shuts the door behind him once he walks through, padding his way cautiously to the one and only free chair in the room. 
You’re desperate to find something to hide yourself behind, Taehyung surely isn’t helping. The blanket below you is the first and only thing you’re able to bunch up in a haste as you try to pull away from Taehyung. 
“What the hell is going on here?” You frustratingly question Taehyung. “Why did you let him come in?”
“I see that you haven’t asked her,” Yoongi mumbles as he relaxes back into the chair. 
God, even you catch on to the way your eyes linger too damn long on how lax and effortlessly good his lazy-day outfit makes him look. 
“Ask me what?”
“Babe, don’t worry. Trust me and listen to my proposal,” your boyfriend pleads with you softly.
Taehyung redirects his attention down at you, hands roaming your curves endearingly. His eyes are soft, quite opposite from the dick pistoning inside of you moments ago. You frantically look over at Yoongi who wears an impassive look, hands clasped over his lap as he leans back lazily into the seat. 
“Taehyung!” You call him with nervousness.
Your legs attempt to unlatch from around his waist, though it only grants him access to use his hand and pin one down to the bed. It allows him to slip deeper, sinking his body to slap his skin into yours.
You muffle a moan, dreading being in any way, loud. The lust and desire of your taunting orgasm lingers for far too long, nearly on edge of insanity waiting for the string to snap. But with the added mix of a suspecting set of sharp, dark eyes watching you from the corner in such an intimate position, your mind argues with your body's needs. Goosebumps rise over your skin the moments your hairs stand on each thread. 
Taehyung’s mouth hovers your ear, lips peppering your skin as he whispers in a lower voice. “He and I talked about what I can do to add more spice to our sex life. I wanted to see if you’ll be open to experimenting with this sort of thing.” His teeth grip at your earlobe delicately, scraping the area and sending you wild chills throughout your body. “It’s ok if you don’t want to, but maybe we can try it out just this once. If you or I don’t like it, we’ll never have to do it again.” 
Yoongi’s eyes never break contact with yours as Taehyung speaks to you with honesty. He stares back at you with a sense of a challenge, proving he’s not afraid or backing down from his positioning. 
Taehyung is right about the curious looks you’ve given Yoongi in the past. It’s just a natural behavior to look toward something that appeals to you 一 and perhaps Yoongi is the exact reason why that explanation runs true. 
Yoongi is someone who you anticipate to be heartless and emotionless; the mysterious vibes he portrays give off these stereotypical accusations. Over time you slowly learn how open-minded he can be, how he truly doesn’t give two shits about what you or anybody else has to say about him. He lives with the most comfort, at least what it seems to be. Considerate and compassionate to those around him, task orientated and diligent he can be with his work… And many other things. He may seem like the introverted one of the entire bunch, but he comes with the most experience with life. 
Taehyung’s impetus rutting straight into your clit draws your attention back to him and his voice. He exhales against your skin, hot breath fanning down your neck. The blazing glare you’re receiving from Yoongi for whatever reason makes you fear looking away, as if he’s demanding you to hold the stare.
“Say you don’t want it,” Taehyung grunts. He picks up pace, running on a surge of lustful electricity to push you over the brink of excitement and pleasure. In between deep and labored breaths, Taehyung speaks again, “Are you going to let him just watch me fuck you? I bet you enjoy having him check you out right now. All spread out underneath me. Do you want to put on a show for him?”
You moan the moment your clit gives up on the constant abuse, accepting the climax your body has been deprived. Finger nail lines mark along a small portion of Taehyung’s shoulders as you grip onto him. The snap in your stomach has your mouth gasping, eyes fluttering shut in a blissful moment as your last visual is not seeing your boyfriend, but his roommate who stares hot and heavy from across the way. 
The pillow below you cradles your head as you thrust it back, pleasure running throughout all of your nerve endings. The pitch that escapes your throat is high and piercing, uncontrollable as you rock steadily against Taehyung’s body. Taehyung plasters kisses with his plump lips along the exposed column of your neck as his rugged grunts resound into the air. 
Your eyes are hazed over momentarily when you first open them, blinking away the fuzziness and directing your line of sight back to Yoongi. He has shifted more into the chair, head cocked back with his silky black hair pushed off his forehead, his eyes are trained onto you. When looking lower you notice the way his palm cups his crotch lightly, smooth and directly glides across what seems to be a growing hard-on through his pants. He perfectly outlines himself from base to end, even enunciating his girth with his streaked fingers.
You swallow hard. 
A wave of heat runs up your face, embarrassed yet somehow turned on at the idea of how Yoongi first handedly witnessed you and your orgasmic state. How your body becomes uncontrollable and gyrates in a spasm of movements. Your boyfriend places a last kiss to your cheek as he props himself up with an elbow, body heaving uninterruptedly. His face remains concentrated, holding back from letting loose. 
“God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.” He smiles softly, pace slowing to give your body the well deserved break it needs. “So, what do you think?” Taehyung tilts his head in Yoongi’s direction. “Are you interested after he’s just watched you cum? Or do you just want him to get off by himself while I fuck my cum into you?”
The question sounds so much more lewd than you expect, blushing sheepishly with how dirty Taehyung makes you sound. 
“What about you?” You question back with skepticism. “Is this something you’re alright with…?”
“He wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” 
There’s a stifled laugh from Yoongi, head completely tilted back against the backing of the chair as his hand works him over the fabric of his pants. Both you and Taehyung look over, wondering what the reasoning is. 
“He was doubtful at first. After discussing the situation he felt better with the idea.” Yoongi’s eyes stare up idly at the ceiling. “He questioned what he should do next and I offered the idea. I won’t think any different of either of you, whether you choose to do this or not. We’re all still friends here. And besides, this isn’t my first rodeo with ‘couple-sex-therapy.’ I shared the bed with Jin hyung and his girlfriend plenty of times.” 
You look at Taehyung for confirmation, which he unquestionably gives with the most sincere of eyes. His features are soft and kind, even with the cute freckles scattered across his face, you find absolute comfort with his reassurance. 
“You know I love you, right?” You raise your eyebrows at him, a stony tone to declare your seriousness. 
“Of course, babe. I’m not worried you’ll fall for him or anything. I love you and I always will.” His tone is gentle, sincere, and loving. It clenches at your heart how earnest he is being and you cannot help the way your feelings scatter across your body with mirth. 
There’s a shuffling from behind the two of you, Yoongi who is not choosing to wait any longer decides to stand up and redirect the conversation. 
“Before things get sappy, let’s figure this out. Do you want to do this, Y/n?” 
You cannot help but notice the lengthy hard on pressing on the inside of his pants, hanging more to the left to be exact. It calls to you in secret; the idea that it has grown there because of watching you makes your confidence glow up. 
“Well… you’ve kind of already got to see… some things.” 
“That’s not what I'm asking you.” His authoritative tone stirs your insides mysteriously, excites you strangely. You’re reminded by the slow drag of Taehyung’s cock that you’re still very much getting fucked at the time being, and perhaps maybe the idea of one extra dick into the mix is something you truly aren’t opposed to. 
Though, it scares you all at the same time. 
Taehyung slowly adds a bit of power to his hip rolls, snapping them just at the end of their stride and into your cunt. It serves to rewarm you up, prepare you for a night full of pleasure. A hidden promise to rearrange your insides like you’ve never been given before. 
“I’ve never been with more than one at once,” you admit. 
“That’s alright. I’ll guide the two of you,” Yoongi steps closer to the bed, hands gripping the hem of his shirt before pulling the piece completely over his torso. “So, is that a yes?”
You glance over the milky complexion he reveals, the smooth skin with small undertones of pinks. He’s skinny, definitely smaller in frame than Taehyung but something about the way the crevices around each of his edges paint him exactly how you have pictured him. An inviting chest with proding collarbones begins his torso and follows down to his sternum. His stomach is outlined more square than Taehyung’s dipping waist, but nonetheless it still is very much attractive considering the small plumpness of his lower abdomen. 
There’s something about soft bellies that riles you up to no ends. And you find the small happy-trail leading down under the waistband of his pants so undeniably inviting. 
Taehyung’s lips press to your temple, sweet and wet. “It’s okay,” he reassures with the low register of his baritone voice. 
It shakes your core.
When your eyes meet back up to Yoongi’s, you’re matched with equal dark lust. A rapid fever zaps through you; even Taehyung notices it by the way your pussy involuntarily clenches around him. It feels just like the excitement of reading a brand new book you've yearned for, and finally you have the time to peel open the thick front cover to see what lies inside. 
It’s surprising the way the word flows out of your mouth, confidence evident. Yes you do want a taste of Yoongi; over the time you’ve grown to know the man, he just sounds more and more appetizing. Not that you aren’t happy and content with your relationship now. More like curious window shopping… that window being inside your own boyfriend’s apartment and right next door. 
“Taehyung, pull her down the bed a bit. Shift her head over to this end.” Yoongi directs your boyfriend without breaking eye contact with you. He has plans that need to be met. 
“That’s okay to let her drag the blanket over her. I don’t want Y/n to feel rushed or forced.” 
You are maneuvered quickly with the help of Taehyung’s large hands, shifted far down to lay straight across the foot of the bed. You tilt your head to look up at Yoongi upside down, seeing the way his hooded eyes look even sharper from this angle. 
“You don’t need to be shy with me,” his calloused hand gradually cups the side of your face. He analyzes the blown-out pupils in both of your eyes as his thumb traces over the curve of your lips. 
Taehyung uses one foot on the floor to stand up straighter as his other knee digs into the mattress. His cock springs out of you temporarily as he adjusts to the newer position, cautiously watching the way Yoongi’s thumb prys open your lower lip. 
“What should I do right now?” Taehyung questions, hard-on so painfully erect and pleading to be touched.
Yoongi’s other hand comes to slip the elastic of his pants down far enough to rest under the curve of his ass, releasing his dick into the open. It’s swollen, in need of attention and you are more than willing to give to it the moment you lay eyes on the thick piece of flesh that dangles over your face. His hand cuffs your jaw, fingers pressing softly against your cheeks to widen your mouth. 
Slowly, you see and feel the silky smooth tip of Yoongi’s dick kiss your lips. Topped with a tiny bit of pre-cum, the initial taste of salt greets you once your tongue touches it, slippery and tangible all at the same time. 
Taehyung runs his cock further into you as you feel his hands roam along your upper thighs, squeezing at the flesh. The feeling of two cocks entering your body from different holes sends a new wave of pleasure. Lighting your entire being ablaze. It feels dirty and wrong; making your ‘good girl’ reputation tainted into the ‘bad girl’ you’ve never had the chance to experience before.  
Yoongi sinks himself casually, allowing you to accept it at your own pace. You lose sight of his face the closer his pelvis gets to your head, but you swear you hear a soft exhale leave his lips. 
You groan around his cock the moment Taehyung seats himself fully into you. Your legs widen with welcome, spreading yourself open as much as possible as you start to suck harder on Yoongi. He controls his thrusts as your head is limited from the movement you wish to do. 
“There you go,” Yoongi’s hand comes around the back of your neck to support you. “Ease up on your nerves a bit and focus on sucking me off.” 
Taehyung’s hands roam further up, sneaking under the blanket you have latched over your torso and gripping around your waist. His fingers dig down softly, stroking small circles into your flesh.
Yoongi begins getting dangerously closer to the deeper corners of your throat. The glide of his cock slipping further with a bit more dominance the second you hollow out your cheeks. 
“There you go,” Yoongi praises from above. “I’ve been curious what this mouth of yours can do.” 
Just as you’re about to hum in response, you’re forced to moan instead by the sudden sharp thrust from Taehyung. The force scoots you up and helps lodge Yoongi deeper into your throat. You gag at the sudden impact, coughing in a fit as your chest rises for the need of air.  The deep chuckle of your boyfriend resounds after both you and Yoongi grunt simultaneously. 
“Watch it!” Yoongi hisses through his teeth. 
His hand cautiously grips tighter around your neck, squeezing his fingers around what he can. It has you reaching both hands up to Yoongi’s hips, preparing yourself if he decides to suddenly face-fuck you. 
“I’m just having some fun. I’ve been stalling with my hard-on for a while. My balls are aching.”
Taehyung’s words strike something in you. It happens to Yoongi as well, because just as you suspect, Yoongi is pushing his cock as deep as he can go before feeling resistance from you. His hand constricts the space available in your throat, making your eyes instantly water and nails press small crescent moons into his skin. 
“You’re not going to go. Stop being selfish, Tae,” Yoongi orders. 
He retracts himself, giving you only seconds to breathe before lodging himself right back. You groan, almost completely gag again, at the harsh intrusion. 
“You enjoy that, Y/n? With my hand around your neck and my cock in your mouth?”
Yoongi looks over to Taehyung who’s fixated on the scene before him. He notices the tight grip of Taehyung’s hands around your waist, matching the strength of his hand around your neck. There’s a hint of possessiveness and competitiveness radiating off of Taehyung, whether he knows it or not. Although Yoongi doesn’t mind the reactions. 
He’s intrigued by it. 
“Tell me, Tae. Does this turn you on? Seeing someone else fuck your ‘good’ girl?”
Yoongi slides his cock out slowly, smiling down at the messy spit gathered at the corners of your mouth. He relaxes his fingers, giving you the ability to properly inhale a deep breath. The need for Yoongi makes you want him more, return his smooth dick into the cavern of your mouth. You open wider, like a baby bird wanting to be fed, as you stare heavily at the reddened tip leaking pre-cum in front of you. He slowly drags his head around your lips, wetting them like a lip gloss as you chase him desperately. 
“To be honest, I do.” 
You can hear the wicked smile in Taehyung’s voice. Strangely, it gives you comfort knowing he has fully accepted the task at hand. 
Yoongi’s fast with gripping the back of your head to help raise you. “Move up,” he requests. His head ticks to the side when looking at Taehyung, gesturing for your boyfriend to get up on the bed. “Sit against the headboard.”
Within seconds you find yourself kneeling towards Taehyung as Yoongi props himself behind you. The blanket drops between your bodies, chest fully on display for your boyfriend as you begin to crawl closer to sit on his lap. However, two firm  veiny hands grip either side of your hips to prevent you. 
“That's not what I have planned for either of you,” Yoongi chides. Your back is being pressed down, leaning yourself and your face right in front of Taehyung’s heavy cock while keeping your ass up in the air. “Taehyung deserves a nice break while he watches me fuck you. After all, he enjoys seeing you getting fucked, isn’t that right?” 
You hear the snarky laugh behind you as Yoongi’s hand glides up between your legs, collecting leaked wetness before touching your lady-bits. His fingers dance delicately around your entrance, the excitement of another man toying with you makes you feel even more filthy. 
The small round of Taehyung’s — what he calls ‘baby abs’ — invites you. Your lips press into his stomach, tenderly kissing around the area as you feel the insert of, not one, but two digits into your centre. You leave a shaky breath against his skin, mouth trying to envelope around the base of his shaft to make sure he doesn't feel left out. 
“Condom!” Taehyung huffs; even the jolt of his abdomen tightens with the stern tone he gives. 
“Relax, I’m not a fucking idiot,” Yoongi responds. His free hand fishes out a foil from his sweatpants pocket that still remains on his legs. You hear the tear of it, shortly with the spitting sound of Yoongi sputtering out the small piece from his lips. 
You look up to Taehyung through your lashes, this angle making him look even sexier than usual. You see the subtle flare of his nostrils as he’s looking at Yoongi, anticipation evident. 
When he finally glances down at you, he smiles softly. His large hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb rubs itself soothingly against your cheek. 
“Be a good girl,” he whispers. 
You go to speak, but the moment your mouth opens up, a guttural moan escapes. Simultaneously, Yoongi’s cock drives itself straight into your cunt with no remorse. Luckily, you’ve been pried open already, thanks to your boyfriend. But from the way Yoongi’s cock upturns in the most sinful way and angles deliciously right into your pussy as his sack slaps straight onto your clit — it turns you weak. 
Like a bitch in heat, you find yourself arching further to accommodate the plunge. Your face lies flat against Taehyung’s stomach as you witness the occasional jump of his cock between each blink. Your hands snake up the sides of Taehyung, using him to anchor yourself still while Yoongi pistons himself into you from behind. 
He’s hard, fast, and urgent. You can feel all of him, every single dangerous inch of his cock.
Heck, he’s fucking you straight into your own boyfriend, and all you can do is disgustingly whine with pleasure. 
“You better be touching him while I fuck you,” Yoongi’s hips snap into you. A wave of heat flashes over you; the demand makes you feel like you’re in trouble, scolded like a young schoolgirl for not doing it earlier. 
“I’m s-sorry!” You yelp with a strike of guilt. 
You attempt your damn near hardest to jerk your boyfriend off with one hand while not falling overboard with impairment. The harsh position Yoongi has you in makes it even harder to accommodate the order. But you manage to tighten your fist around Taehyung’s shaft and flick your wrist to the pace of Yoongi’s relentless thrusts. 
It’s desperate, driven into the deepest corners of your velvety walls. Each time Yoongi slaps his lap into you, it jolts your body further into Taehyung. There’s no hiding the pleasurable groans that escape your throat; the higher pitches making their way out the closer you get pushed to the edge. 
Yoongi sneaks one hand around your front, finding the little bundle of nerves that sends shivers throughout your nether regions. He rolls it between two deft fingers, circling it around like an analog stick on a controller. 
“Oh, God! I’m going to cum,” you admit while shutting your eyes tight. Your mouth opens wide, gasping for air as you twist your neck to bury your face. 
Your body twitches until the blissful moment finally approaches. For the second time tonight your body spazzes around a cock that’s snug deep into your pussy. You cry a silent sob into Taehyung’s skin, only hearing the breathy grunts of Yoongi. He doesn’t give you the moments of your orgasm to yourself; instead Yoongi begins holding you up by both arms. He pulls you off Taehyung, linking your elbows back together as he exposes your front body to your boyfriend who’s eyes trail to the dripping cum between your legs. 
The new angle sends shivers down your spine, heat running to your face as you watch through blurry eyes as Taehyung observes you, devouring you with the cardinal desire behind each iris. Yoongi continues to swerve his hips into your backside, cock never leaving your cunt the entire time. 
“Show him how wet you are,” he begins with a deep voice. A hand creeps up to cuff a tit, squeezing what he can get his hand on before pinching your soft nipple. “Another man toying with you right in front of his eyes. Aren’t you such a dirty girl?” Yoongi’s lips trace the length of your shoulder up to your neck, teeth scraping over the canvas before landing themselves in the sweetest spot — right under your ear lobe. Another wave of arousal pools below you at the action. It's so hot for no reason. 
You cannot see the sheer possessive eyes Yoongi gives Taehyung, but you can feel it by the way Yoongi completely envelops you and claims you for the time being.
Taehyung shows a weary look behind the mask of his turned-on state. He wets his lips, hands shooting out to swat away at Yoongi’s and instead holds both your breasts in each hand. 
“Jealous?” Yoongi quips with a laugh. “Don’t like when I put my hands on her?”
Taehyung’s eyes narrow at his older friend, “No, not that. It’s my turn.” 
You groan as Yoongi abruptly pulls out of you, shoving your hips forward to make you shift up closer to Taehyung in a haste. 
“Sit on him.”
You hear the directions loud and clear. Immediately, there is no choice but to sit up and adjust your hips above your boyfriend. His round and smooth cockhead trails between your folds again, sensitivity and numbness mixing with your nerves. 
“Come here, babe,” he coaxed, voice an octave lower than usual. Taehyung’s fingers rake up the back of your head, gaining a solid grip on you to pull you in for a searing kiss. As your lips glide over anothers you bring your body down on him, sinking back onto his rock hard dick. 
You moan into Taehyung’s mouth as he stiffens, the pulsating walls of your pussy still fluttering from the aftermath of Yoongi. Shortly, you begin to feel the palms of the other man roaming your shoulders, outlining your entire silhouette while he gets closer to you. 
Taehyung is careful when ushering your hips in slow rolls, not rushing you regardless of how sensitive his body is. His dick pumps in and out of you leisurely while you continue to suck in his tongue. 
For a moment, and only that moment, you feel as if it was just the two of you. Completely serene and wrapped up in your own bubble gum wrapper with your boyfriend. The comfortable norm, what the two of you are accustomed to. 
Taehyung freezes mid-kiss, lips stalled in a pout against yours. You open your eyes to see his face scrunched together, eyebrows knitted down. 
“What are you doing?” He responds cautiously but with a stern voice. 
It takes you a second to realize he is not talking to you but to Yoongi, who starts to happily press his chest against your back. His face pokes out to the side of yours, his cheek centimeters away with a self-satisfied grin. 
“Calm down,” he tuts with an eye-roll. “I’m just testing your limits. Clearly you have hard firm ones. I’ll just focus on Y/n since you’re so uptight.” 
You feel the gentle glide of Yoongi’s fingers on the rounds of your ass. He has no hesitation with closing his proximity to you, his warm body practically begging for you to lean back into him. 
Taehyung gives Yoongi an uncomfortable look, eyes squinting. “Yeah, hyung. I don’t want you massaging my balls. They’re fine.”
“Did it not feel good?” 
Now you understand what happened. In the midst of your passionate session that lasted less than a minute, Yoongi started experimenting further with your boyfriend. The half-flustered face he wears makes you hold back a tiny laugh, a torn expression evident. 
“I don’t want you touching me like that.” 
Yoongi smiles smugly; he knows exactly what it must feel like to be pleasured by the balls. He most definitely enjoys the frazzled responses he continues to get with Taehyung, probably from the result of Taehyung biting off more than he can chew when it comes to the agreement of this threesome. You begin to question further how much these two actually discussed this situation. Is it only to try new things out with the comfort of a mutual friend? Did Yoongi secretly want to fuck you? Is there something hidden between the lines of their conversation that isn’t directly said? 
Yoongi turns his face, mouth meeting the shell of your ear as his warm breath presses against your skin. He whispers softly, a deep voice trickling down to your eardrum. 
“Pay attention to what I'm going to do with you. I need you to trust me. A ‘good’ girl will like this… A ‘dirty girl’ won’t get enough of this.” 
Up the crack of your ass, Yoongi’s fingers trail to the tight ringed muscle that flexes the second he touches it. He reminds you to stay relaxed, don’t strain against him as he gingerly pokes and prods the area. It feels decent, a forigen area that doesn’t necessarily get played with too often. The sensation adds more pleasure to the overall situation. 
From the earlier sequence of things, your nether region remains wet and sweaty, slick with your  leaking cum. Making it easier to play around with as both men use and abuse their privileges on your body. 
It’s heavenly. 
Yoongi pushes his perspiring body against yours to allow you to lean more into Taehyung, attempting to lie you down flat against your boyfriend and opening up the access to your butt. 
“You have such a cute little asshole, don’t you?” Yoongi coos as one finger dips in. 
You lay against Taehyung, whose lips are kissing any part of your head he can reach. His loving hands come down to your legs, running them up and down as his cock is wedged inside of you. It strains in its fixed position, pulsating with how swollen it becomes and has yet to release the pent up frustrations. 
“What are you doing now?” Taehyung questions. 
“Prepping her. This isn’t something you can race into. She needs to be warmed up and stretched. Hold her cheeks open for me.” 
Slowly, Yoongi fingers your anus. Each time he dips deeper his fingers continue to scavenge the backyard cavern. He spits a small amount to your crack, admires the way gravity allows it to run down and collect at his fingers. It helps as an added application of more lube, especially when it comes to Yoongi being knuckle deep and starts to scissor your asshole open. 
You groan, toes curling and ass tightening while both men pry you open wider. 
“Have you had a dick in your ass before?” 
You respond a soft ‘yes’ back to Yoongi, mind running in circles from the last time you’ve attempted this sexual act. It is a difficult thing when not taken care of properly, both Taehyung and you know this. Thankfully, Yoongi doesn’t show any signs of uncertainty. His comfort and confidence makes you feel more at ease than you can admit. 
The tip of Yoongi’s cock presses softly against your asshole, edging itself closer and closer as it tries to slip itself past the muscle. His hand comes flat against your back to prevent your body from leaning up, pinning you directly on top of Taehyung as he continues his pursuit. 
Your voice fails to escape your throat as Yoongi enters his first inch into you. Your walls are hugging him like an iron grip. 
“That’s it, that’s what a good girl does, isn’t it?” 
A flush of embarrassment hits you with the way your cunt squeezes from the praise. It surprises you more when you hear those words coming from the man who is not your boyfriend. There’s no explanation of how you feel when it comes to the older man. You admire him from afar, fancying something that he resonates with. It never makes sense to you… it probably never will. 
You look up to Taehyung through your lashes, glossy eyes and warm cheeks. The pleasure is already beginning to overwhelm your body as you feel two dicks begin to fill you up. 
“Are you hurt?” 
He looks worried, his hand coming up to gesture to Yoongi to stop his actions. Taehyung wants to lean up but knows he cannot, so his palm comes fast to cup your cheek and tilt your head to see you better. 
“No, I'm not hurt,” you sigh with a shaky breath. Your hands snake themselves under Taehyung’s back, holding him impossibly closer to you. “I can feel everything. I feel like I don’t have enough room to breathe. Like it’s too much and not enough at the same time.” 
You feel vulnerable and fueled with a sense of pining. An ache you’ve never encountered before, something you cannot explain in full. Like setting your heart on the line with the most trust you could humanly give, scared to take the leap off the fence and into the hands of both these men's arms. 
The pair of men make brief eye contact, realizing the struggle of your state and quickly deciding a new path. 
“Here, let’s lay side-by-side. It’s alright, Y/n. There’s a lot going on right now and it’s something new. We’ll take it slower. Lift this leg over Tae’s waist,” Yoongi pats at the underside of your thigh. He slides closer to your backside, soft lips hovering the nape of your neck.  
Yoongi helps Taehyung shift you in your spot all the while they carefully remain inside of you. Your head lays comfortably against a pillow, the plush of it feeling so inviting. You calm yourself with a few deep breaths to regain concentration. You feel cradled between the two men, the position feeling more intimate than before.
Slowly, Yoongi is able to insert himself further into you. This causes you to become a babbling mess of moans because of the full stretching of both holes. Your body’s adrenaline causes you to shake, nearly using your hips to fuck yourself onto both of them as the pleasure overrides your thoughts. The pleasure is overwhelming but welcoming. Heat trickling up every inch of your body and pricks at your hairs. 
“My God,” you sob. Your hands clutch onto your boyfriend, nails begging to draw red lines in their wake. “T-Tae!” 
“That’s it, babe,” his mouth kisses your neck. He grunts every time your pelvis collides with his. “Take it all in.” 
Even Taehyung can feel how unquestionably tighter your body has gotten thanks to the insertion of Yoongi into your backside. It strongly affects him too, because of the thin wall that divides the two entrances. He can feel the presence of Yoongi’s cock pressed up against the wall, filling up the spaces left.  
Yoongi whispers behind your ear, teeth nipping at your skin as his nose brushes through your hair, “Get your fingers wet for me.” 
His hips roll agonizingly slow into your ass as his hand grips yours. He twists your wrist, presses two of your fingers to your mouth and beckons you to open. Your tongue laps around your digits, getting them as wet as possible just as he wished. When the stringy saliva comes dripping out of your mouth, Yoongi leads your hand to behind Taehyung. 
“Remember me telling you to pay attention before? You’re going to do what I did to you, to Tae. I know he won’t want me doing it.” 
You lock eyes with Taehyung, who meets you already with a stand-off glare. He turns his head the moment you go to kiss him, stubborn as always. 
Taehyung begins to deject his space with you until Yoongi’s hand clamps over your leg that’s wrapped around Taehyung’s waist. He holds it firm, eyes locked to Taehyung’s. 
“Don’t be a bitch; if your girlfriend can take a full-fat cock up her ass then you can take her two fingers. Just because it freaks you out doesn’t mean it’s bad. It actually feels quite amazing. It’s an experience you need to try at least once instead of being a little shit.” 
“Yoongi!” Your jaw drops.
“I’m not a bitch,” Taehyung retorts. “I don’t like that type of stuff.” 
“Try it,” Yoongi insists. 
Your eyes flicker between Taehyung’s, seeking his attention as you call out to him. You shush him quietly, lips trying to butterfly kiss on his jaw. 
“Tae, baby, shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Trust me, love. Try it just once with me. Remember, if we don’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.” 
Your boyfriend is weak like putty under your words, his softhearted eyes glancing at yours. You resist kissing the pout off his lips, instead placing your forehead against his. Yoongi’s abrupt and clear words won’t get through to Taehyung; you know that isn’t how to communicate with him. What you do know is to make Taehyung feel secure and safe, almost sheltered even. He’s been so kind with you already; you muster enough strength to do it back. 
You keep eye contact with your handsome boyfriend, admiring the off-set speck in one of his eyes as you search them for any signs of fear. Your palm hovers over his backside, feeling the smooth dip of his ass cheek before running along his crack. Taehyung visibly gulps, trying to clear his throat as he centralizes himself for the impending act. 
With leisure, you dip your wet fingers down. In the back of your head you try to remember the light ministrations Yoongi had done with you the second the tips of his digits met your anus. The second you feel Taehyung’s, he instantly clenches as you presumed would happen. You cautiously circle the muscle, wiggle your delicate fingers around as you observe Taehyung’s facial reactions. In the need to hold on, Taehyung’s arm slithers underneath you as the other reaches up for your hair. His fingers card through the stands, pushing them off and away from your face. 
“Touch him to the pace i’m fucking you,” Yoongi requests. His hand rests on the curve of your hip to hold you still, the other helps prop him up on his elbow so he can look down between the two of you as he submerges himself in-and-out. 
Taehyung’s eyes widen the second you poke a single finger into him, just enough for the first knuckle to breach. It’s a strange, unusual feeling. You  have never witnessed the way your boyfriend becomes completely puddy under your control before ー all from just one finger. A deep moan comes shamefully out of his mouth; his mind blown as he grips you even harder. You focus on the drag of Yoongi’s cock and try to match the pace with your own finger. 
Even for you, the overload of pleasure has you dithering the speed of your finger. You follow the order of applying more pressure, even to the small detail of curling your finger up to reach that special spot inside Taehyung’s ass. It nearly causes Taehyung to knock his head into yours from the surprise of what you are doing to him. 
His breath comes out ragged, as if lost for air. He can feel all sensations tickling his nerves, cock still nudging itself as far into you as he physically can. 
“Y/n…” he sighs. “I’m not ー fuck ー not going to last.” 
The immense pleasure and pure enjoyment you have over your boyfriend makes you dedicated to giving him his neglected orgasm. You want to give him anything and everything. His cock must be so painfully swollen, begging to release his entire load. Yoongi picks up on your quickened pace, arm straining to grip over Taehyung’s body to fuck your finger into him. 
“That’s ok, baby. Come for me, please,” you beg your boyfriend. 
Yoongi’s swift movement surprises you; his hand slips between where you and Taehyung are connected and pulls your folds even wider to find your clit. It throbs with anger, oversensitive from the earlier touches. The first touch of Yoongi’s finger instantly pushes hard and down on the small, shiny nub. Flicking over it to send you into a different kind of high. He has you tightening over both snuggled cocks and cursing through your teeth. You cry out Yoongi’s name as a warning, but it never bothers him. 
“Cum with both our cocks inside of you,” he voices with his rough fingers vigorously touching your clit. “Cream all over him.” 
You mewl in both pain and pleasure until your body finally snaps without your choice of the matter. Your head clunks into Taehyung’s as you thrust powerfully. From the way your body fills up in complete heat, you don’t notice the streaks of liquid seeping out of you as you come, hard. Both men’s breaths become labored, certainly from the way your body sucks their cocks in as much as possible. Squeezing them tight. 
Blurry vision takes up your senses as your body twitches and rigorously shakes between the two of them. Yoongi’s hand gets soaked from the squirting and doesn't stop the liquid from spilling all over the bed below you and onto Taehyung’s frontside. 
Your finger hooks at just the right angle inside of Taehyung assisting in pushing him further, knocking him completely off the edge and straight into his climax. He shoves himself straight against your cervix, bottoming out every single tantalizing drop into your cunt. He moans delecibly, filling the air with a booming grunt. He nearly chokes out his pleasure, eyes screwing shut and mouth agape as he completely shatters in front of you. 
It’s amazing how the domino effect bounces from one to the other. First you, now Taehyung… Soon it will be Yoongi. You can't count the seconds between the beats of breaths before you feel Yoongi absentmindedly ram himself further into your ass. Watching both you and your boyfriend get off riles him up and turns him on. 
And knowing he helped get the both of you there in one way or another, gives him self-satisfaction. He knows he’s a great service and owns it. His face buries itself between your shoulder blades, forehead pressed hard against your sweltering skin as he watches the way he fucks between your cheeks. His softer blows run straight into rushed thrusts the second your body tightens around him, chasing his orgasm until he finally busts into the condom wrapping around him. 
He moans, loud for once, as if the wind was knocked out of him. He drags your hips back to meet into him, regardless of how fixed your body is in this position, not leaving enough room to move. He admires the way his cock sinks into your little asshole and watches the way his cum begins to spread under the thin rubber as he continues to stretch you open. 
Both men’s cocks throbbed inside of you with every pulse, it makes you feel disgustingly full. Taehyung hangs his head and nuzzles himself close to your collarbones as Yoongi’s head leans back into the plush of the mattress. Aftershocks continue to shake your body for long minutes, a doting smile painting across your face. 
You have never, not once ever, felt fuller, more complete, than you have right here. Right now. 
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© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr and my ao3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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minyfic · 20 days ago
mortalised: dawn - MYG
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↣ despite the ups and downs, it’s nothing like what you and Yoongi have been through before, all that matters is the love you have for him, but you’re yet to find out if he feels the same.
01 - 02 - 03
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pairing — dilf!yoongi x reader
genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, angst, bff2l
word count — 10K
warnings/tags — strong language, new-ish relationship, domestic yoongs, y/n just being whipped for hot dad yoongi, insecurities, possessive y/n, hand kink, dom!yoongi, explicit smut — light BDSM themes, dirty talk, breast kink, nipple play, semi-public action, finger sucking, oral (f), fingering, edging, nipple clamps, biting/scratching, hickeys, praise kink, doggy style, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie
a/n — I’ve been writing a lot of angst these days & I just wanted something sweet. I mean I couldn’t avoid the angst here either but enjoy dad yoongs.
If someone told you a few years ago, that you’d be sitting next to Min Yoongi, his arm snug around your shoulder, tucked into his side, sharing a bowl of fruit, love, that isn’t platonic, budding in your heart, you would’ve told them that they’re crazy. Because he’s your best friend and nothing more. Yet, today, he’s all that and more. The serendipitous love of your life. You’re grateful that you didn’t settle for anything less than the standards society would class as “unattainable,” because all along, Yoongi was the man you envisioned.
You watch him press his thumb into the skin of his second tangerine, brows furrowed as if it were an intricate task requiring every bit of your attention. He tilts his head to look at you and yours snaps forward, suddenly shy after his eyes are on you.
He proffers two segments of the fruit to which you decline with a shake of your head, reconnecting your fingers once they’re free. Snuggling closer to his side, your eyes drift to the documentary on the TV, but your mind is occupied by lachrymose thoughts. You don’t know what you would do without Yoongi. Life would be dull and dreary. He won’t hurt you, but the sudden thought that he could walk out of your life at any moment causes your heartrate to speed up. It’s unlike you to think this way, but it’s also unlike you to feel these overwhelming emotions for someone.
You yearn to crawl up into his chest and build a home in his enormous heart, not a single thought of you ever leaving. Tangle your soul with his, your breaths forming one. It frustrates you that you can’t be closer to him, that the press of your skin to his is where it stops. He showers you with his love and affections, but you can’t grasp the nag in your chest. He is a hefty part of your soul, and you won’t let go of the fizz in your stomach if he could so much as graze the skin of your palm with his own.
“What’s wrong?”
Lifting your head to stare up at him, his relaxed gaze on your face, citrusy breath fanning across your lips, you shrug, tightening your hold around his waist.
He chuckles, “it seems like you’ve been trying to drain the life from my body for the past two hours and you aren’t even watching the show.”
You swallow, three words that have been prickling the tip of your tongue recently threatening to jump out of your throat when he runs his fingers through the hair at the back of your neck, peppering feather-light kisses on your cheeks.
“Nothing,” you lie, nudging his nose with your own before you refocus on the screen, an attempt to have him do the same. Which he doesn’t. Like you expected.
“If you’re nervous about tomorrow,” he begins, straightening his posture before sliding his palm across your back, “it’s okay. You haven’t seen Yura in a long time and now that we’re together, it’ll be different.”
You inhale a shaky breath, laughing softly, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I don’t know how she’ll react since she knows that you and I have been best friends. Just friends.”
He nods, “well, we won’t tell her straight away.”
“Of course.”
“I already told Rika.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, “you did?”
“Yeah,” he smiles, “she said that she expected it to happen.”
You blink, knowing that Yoongi took her words the wrong way since she used to be insecure in college when it came to their relationship. But you respected her boundaries.
“Don’t stress too much, okay? You were like Yura’s first mum before Rika decided to show up.”
Grinning to yourself at the memory of her tiny hands in your own, you press your cheek to Yoongi’s chest and nod, knowing that there’s nothing you should be worried about.
He whispers your name, “hey.”
“I was thinking…”
You raise your head to look at him again after hearing the hesitance in his voice, seeing the way he doesn’t meet your gaze yet still keeps his arms firm around your back.
“Maybe we should start sleeping with separate blankets.”
Your eyebrows crease in confusion, “what?”
He shrugs, “no, because you wrap yourself up in the covers and I’m left out in the cold!”
You jump away from him, clearly offended, “I do not!”
“Yes you do,” he pouts, an accusing finger pointed in your direction.
“Fine,” you huff, “but you literally take up more than half of the space when you come onto my side!”
He switches off the TV and rises to his feet, tugging you down the hall with him, “I don’t. It’s the only way I can get warm with you hogging the blanket!”
You roll your eyes, letting him drag you into the bathroom. What a bizarre request, especially from him. His hands find their way inside your sleepshirt every night and you need to remind him that he does not need to be your human bra. You’ll see how long it’ll last.
He gets the shower running while you pull off your dress and step out of your panties, taking his hand as he helps you into the shower. The heated stream of water cascades down your body, beating against your aching spine that’s been under a lot of pressure with you sitting at your computer for more than ten hours a day.
You watch him toss your clothes into the laundry basket, soaping up the shower gel in your hands before lathering your chest and stomach.
“Sure you don’t want to join me?”
He spins around and his eyes fall to your soapy boobs immediately, pink lips parted.
“Nah,” he clears his throat, scratching the back of his head, “I have to prepare dinner.”
“We have enough time before dinner,” you grin, running your hands down your sides. He gave in the last time, and you know that he won’t need much persuasion if the thick outline of his bulge is anything to go by, veins rippling in his forearms as he clenches and unclenches his fists.
His shoulders sag, groaning as he pulls the white T-shirt over his head and charges into the shower. You giggle, falling against his wet chest. Heart beating thunderously when he captures your lips in a wet, sloppy kiss, greedy hands massaging your ass.
“You do this every time,” he breathes, grazing the column of your throat with his lips.
“Are you complaining?”
You tilt your head back for his access, grabbing at his slippery shoulders, gasps joining the steam. He chuckles, deep voice rumbling through you to collect in your core. A quiet moan leaps from your throat when he pinches your nipple, palm cupping the flesh.
“Not at all.”
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Skipping around the piles of boxes in the lounge, you snatch your bag off the counter and make your way to Yoongi who taps his foot impatiently, clearly annoyed by your sluggishness.
“Don’t want to be late for our flight,” he replies, placing a hand on the small of your back to usher you through the door.
You snort, “we have more than an hour left before our flight, and I wanted to do some shopping before we leave. What is Yura into these days?”
He steps ahead of you to open the passenger side door, looking up to the sky before answering.
“Slime, I think. We’ll have to be quick. In and out.”
Buckling yourself in, you see him jog to the driver’s side, dark hair covered by his cute lil baker boy hat. You hum to yourself, ogling his muscular arms as he clicks in his seatbelt and switches on the engine.
He’s sporting that smile. The one he has on each time he knows that you’re drooling over him. His tongue pokes out of his lip as he grips the steering wheel with his left hand, twirling it this way and that with the heel of his palm, flaunting his long, ring-clad fingers. His free hand reaches over to grip at your thigh, veins protruding with the movement, the cool silver burning into your meat. He’s also very aware of how much you appreciate his pretty, skilled fingers. Your heart skips a beat when he shoots you a gummy smile over his shoulder, throwing in a knowing wink.
“So, are you ready?”
You stare at your hands, “mhm.”
After months of him taking time off to spend every weekend at your place, you’ve finally decided to take him up on his offer. To live with him and Yura. Regarding your job, you’ve made all the necessary arrangements with your firm after informing them that you would be relocating. You used that excuse whenever Yoongi would ask, but it was your own doubts that prevented you from moving in with him.
“I’d have to check out my new office, get everything settled there first.”
“Yep, but other than things at work, I’m excited for you to live with us. Finally together as a family,” he beams, thumb doodling circles on your skin.
A family. Your insides feel like cotton.
He wraps an arm around your waist as you step inside the bustling mall, drapes of green, red, and gold hanging across the walls.
“They got the Christmas decorations out already,” you giggle, pointing to the twinkling lights in the shape of an elf hanging overhead.
“Yeah…It just hit me that this would be our first Christmas together,” he waggles his brows, “as a couple.”
You chuckle emptily, “yeah. My first Christmas where I’m in a relationship.”
He nudges your hip with his, “that’s your fault.”
Gaze darting from his eyes to his lips, you speak around a smirk, “thank God I didn’t lower my standards.”
He sucks in his lower lip, glancing at the crowd of people passing by before pulling away, keeping you in stride with him. You watch his jaw clench, hand pressing into your side while you’re cheering internally because you love teasing him, especially when you know he can’t do anything about it…right now.
He clears his throat, steering you in the direction of the toy store, “let’s go there.”
The fluorescents blind you momentarily as you step into the colossal space, shelves lined with vibrant packaging that’d have any kid losing their mind. Yoongi decides to visit the aisle towards the left while you make your way to the section of the store that houses variations of slime and clay. You have no idea where to start but you know that you want Yura to like the gift, so you go big. Inspecting the slime kits that sit high up on the shelf.
Satisfied with your choice, you make your way through the aisles, searching for Yoongi when you spot him standing beside the musical instruments. His arms are folded as he speaks animatedly to a woman wearing a blue T-shirt with an image of a giraffe on the back. Probably one of the store’s assistants. You watch him throw his head back in laughter and you take a step forward to hide behind a stack of dolls, head tilted in their direction.
“Oh my, so she’s six? I can’t believe it, you look like you’re in your early twenties,” she squeaks, leaning against the shelf with her elbow propped up on the edge.
You scoff when Yoongi laughs again, clearly charmed by her flattery.
“Thank you. She’s just the best.”
“Most single parents don’t have time for other things. Like the gym and…” Her beady eyes are set on his arms, and you can tell he’s flexing when he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
He smiles, “not really a single parent anymore.”
“Oh? So you’re not single?” She fishes, her pitch lowering which has you gritting your teeth. A part of you is somehow afraid to hear his answer. Would he say that he is single when he isn’t?
You make your presence known by stepping around the pile and hooking your arm into Yoongi’s, holding the kit in front of his face.
“This looks nice. What do you think?”
You don’t miss the way his eyes widen a fraction when he sees you.
“Mhm, she’ll like it,” he nods frantically.
Holding the packaging next to your hip, you force your lips to curve upwards in the direction of the wide-eyed woman who glances between you and Yoongi. He dips his head as you pass her to make your way to the tills. His face remains stolid all the way to the car and your stomach twists when he doesn’t open the car door for you like he usually would. Your head feels like it’s overheating with your pessimistic thoughts that are so far-fetched, yet you can’t help yourself.
Keeping your gaze on the window, your reflection stares back at you, nail caught between your teeth. You flinch when he touches your thigh again, he yanks his hand away.
“What’s wrong?”
You whip your head around to offer him a smile, “what? Nothing’s wrong.”
He blinks, chewing on his lower lip before averting his gaze to the rear-view mirror and reversing out of the parking.
You’re embarrassed to hear your own thoughts. In the past, you haven’t felt this territorial for anyone before. To the point where your hands tremble and your heart is caught in your throat.
Your eyebrows pinch together when he parks off under the shade, still in the mall’s parking lot.
“What? We’re gonna be late for our flight,” you worry, turning to see him unclick his seatbelt.
“We’ve been friends long enough for me to know when something’s on your mind,” he begins, voice gentle, eyes lit by the sunlight that fills the car, “what’s wrong?”
You purse your lips, blood rushing to your face, “nothing.”
He sighs, tugging your hand into his lap, “if you’re nervous ab—”
“I’m not nervous,” you huff, melting under his coaxing gaze.
“Then tell me what’s wrong, please.”
“It’s dumb.”
“I don’t think it would d be dumb if it’s coming from you.”
“Yes it is.”
“Just tell me.”
“I swear to God, if you don’t tell me—”
“I saw you talking to that girl from that toy shop!”
His lips tilt into a frown, “so?”
“See,” you mutter, “told you it was dumb. Can we go now?”
“No,” he argues, “no we cannot go now.”
You lean against the headrest, shooting him a painful frown.
He smirks, leaning in closer to you, “you’re jealous.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
He reaches over and unclicks your seatbelt while you’re resisting the urge to jump out of the car and walk all the way home.
“Never seen you like this before,” he husks, poking a finger under your chin to turn your head.
“Like what?”
You groan, glancing at the sky to avoid his teasing gaze, “I’m not.”
He rests a hand on your shoulder, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you know, it’s been really difficult for me to pay attention to anything else with that see-through dress of yours.”
Your eyes go as large as saucers, head snapping down to see your red bra, taunting you through the white material of your dress.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He grins, “I only noticed when we were out of the house.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t rush me this morning!” You whine, cheeks flushing to match the shade of your underwear.
“But,” he presses his forehead to your cheek, unbuttoning your dress. You catch his wrist, breaths quickening when you notice his blown-out pupils. He breaks out of your hold and continues to spread open the fabric of your flimsy dress.
“Yoongi, someone will see us.”
To your horror, he pulls down the cups of your bra and begins to encircle your left nipple with his thumb. You hold your fist up to his chest, fighting off the sensation.
“Remember when we talked about the fantasies we had in college,” he reminds, watching how your back arches when he takes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “the ones we couldn’t fulfil because of all our responsibilities.”
Your tongue darts out to graze his cupid’s bow, eyes slipping shut, slick pooling in your panties, “mhm.”
“Sucking your pretty tits till you cum was one of mine,” he growls, holding up your mounds to press into his face before his lips latch onto one, tongue and teeth plucking the skin while his hand works your other nipple.
You moan, threading your fingers into his hair and pushing your chest into his face. By now, Yoongi knows just the right angle and speed to have your pussy aching for his cock, fingers pinching your areola while his middle finger flicks your pebbled nipple, spit dripping down your skin as he sucks noisily. He groans into your skin, peering up at you with hooded eyes when you whimper and your hips jut into the air, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.
His tongue slides from one nipple to the other and you know that if he could suck both your tits at once he would.
“Please,” you whimper, sweat building between your thighs as you continue to rub them together when he holds you down with one hand, the other pinches and twists your heated nipple.
Your eyes crack open when he takes your nipple between his teeth and draws his head back, a choked moan breaking into the air. His tongue darts out to soothe the burn, index and middle finger rubbing your erect bud rapidly. You fit your hand between your legs, crying out at the friction against your pulsating clit.
He pulls away with a lewd pop, glossy lips sliding along the line of your jaw, stopping on your lips to place a lingering kiss while he catches both your hands and holds it up over your head. You yelp when it hits the roof of his car, breaths mangled. He lands two smacks to each of your nipples, your pussy clenches with the buzz that surges through you.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
You shake your head, speaking against his lips, “n-no.”
He sinks teeth into the skin of your shoulder, fondling your breasts with renewed fervor as you throw your head back and relax under his touch, quiet moans spilling from your lips. The twinge between your thighs builds when he returns to immobilizing washes of his tongue against your nipple, swirling around your flesh, keeping your hands high above your head while you gasp and twitch with the building pressure in your abdomen.
You’ve never had an orgasm from nipple stimulation before, and you did think about it since the Yoongi has you blabbering with the pleasure from just his tongue and fingers on your nipples. The tingles travel across each of your limps, nails digging into the back of his hand as you find yourself nearing the edge. But it’s still not enough, you writhe against the leather, hot and wet. Clit pulsing, more and more of your arousal seeping though your hole.
“Yoongi. I—” you shiver as he suctions your nipple into his mouth, nails pressing into your abused skin. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, sparks shooting along your spine, flying over the edge with his ministrations. White dots spot behind your lids, unable to bite down the weak moans as he helps you ride out your high, swirling the tip of his tongue.
You spasm with pants of his name, laying limp as if he sucked the life out of you and the accomplished smile he gives you would have one thinking that he did. Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. He readjusts your bra and buttons up your dress. Raising your hips when he pats your thigh, you’re too exhausted to fight back for your underwear, seeing him stuff it into his sweatpants pocket.
“You can rest on the flight, kay?”
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The short rest during your flight did nothing to lessen your lethargy. For some reason, you feel even more worn out than before, but Yoongi looks fresh and energized. And you find yourself questioning if he really did drain every ounce of your energy earlier today. He wheels over your luggage to the front door while you’re admiring the new exterior of his home. It’s been a while since you visited and you’re trying to remember the last time when the front door swings open and a girl, you almost don’t recognize, rushes toward Yoongi and leaps into his arms.
“Dad! I missed you so much!”
He coddles her to his chest, lifting her off the ground and kissing the top of her head.
“I missed you too! Look who I brought this time,” he gestures to where you stand on the steps and Yura, just as she did earlier, skips toward you and wraps her arms around your shoulders when you bend down to receive her hug.
Some might say it’s disrespectful, but Yura grew up hearing her dad call you by your name, so she does the same. Much cuter.
You pinch her cheeks, “as if I thought you couldn’t get any prettier! And taller! You’re gonna overtake your dad soon.”
She giggles, her eyes creasing in a way that reminds you of her mother. Yoongi exhales a dry laugh at your comment.
“I’m so happy dad brought you this time,” she bubbles, fitting her small hand in yours as you walk through the door, “are you staying forever? Mum said you’re staying forever.”
“No, sweetheart. Not this time,” you smile, swinging your hands back and forth, “I came over to spend the week with you and then the next time I come over will be forever!”
She squeals, “yay! I like your bag.”
You pat the plush material of your Louis Vuitton, “thank you. You can have it if you want.”
“Really? Dad bought one for mom too, but she said it’s not for little girls when I asked,” she pouts, tugging you toward the kitchen.
“Oh, he did? Well, you can use mine whenever you like.” You bought this bag yourself, not like you needed Yoongi to buy it for you.
When you enter the kitchen, you’ve always envied, a mouth-watering aroma fills your nostrils. Rika has her hand on Yoongi’s back.
“Hey,” you announce, walking around the counter to hug Rika who grips your elbows to survey your face.
“You look tired.”
You laugh, “it’s been a while.”
“Mum, she said that she’s not staying over forever this time,” Yura jumps onto the bar stool, “you lied.”
You set your bag down and watch Yoongi empty the contents of the grocery bags, stocking up the refrigerator.
“I didn’t lie,” Rika argues, stirring up whatever stew is in the pot, “I just told you what your father told me. How have you been?”
“Been good, what about you?”
She sighs, “alright, I guess.”
Yoongi points his eyes to the back of her head, and you laugh, remembering what he said about his ex taking any opportunity to complain about her miserable life.
“It’s nice of you to take care of Yura during the weekends,” you nod, sitting the little girl on your lap and combing your fingers through her hair.
“I have to. Otherwise Yoongi will kick me out,” she laughs bitterly, placing her arm on Yoongi’s back again.
You blink, “what do you mean?”
Yoongi disappears down the hallway with your luggage and you’re left with Rika and her overlined eyebrows that appear as if she’s always judging you. Which she most probably is.
“Yoongi didn’t tell you?”
You shake your head in confusion.
“I’m living here until I can sort things out at my job.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
You wonder why Yoongi didn’t provide that important detail. Since he goes on and on about how irresponsible she is.
“You mean until you find a job,” Yoongi interjects, re-entering the kitchen and washing his hands.
She shrugs, “anyway, are you joining us for dinner?”
Yoongi scoffs, “what kind of a question is that? Of course, she is.”
“Come on Yura. Let’s help dad set the table,” you peck her cheek before jumping off the stool to wash your hands.
Dinner rolls by with Yura’s passionate talk about her slime collection, Yoongi and Rika’s discussion about Yura’s schooling and the quiet clattering of your spoon against the bowl. Rika has always been a good cook, the flavor reminds you of Yoongi’s own stew. Yura excuses herself from the table to show you something amazing while you’re left to endure Rika’s narcissistic talk of how she has no time for herself since she started living with her daughter.
“She loves spending time with you. What would you do if you spent four years of your life hearing stories about your mother and then she finally pitches up?”
Rika says nothing, shockingly, head hung low between her shoulders.
“Ta-da,” Yura thrusts a hand in your direction, a cockatiel sitting in her tiny palms, hopping around.
“Oh my God. It’s so cute! What’s her name?”
She giggles, smoothing her index finger over its feathers, “it’s a he! His name is Pikachu.”
You coo, watching the fluffy, yellow bird chirp around when she sets it on the table between your placemats. You’re taking a sip of water when Yura calls your name, big eyes on your face.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Am I going to have two mothers now?”
The question catches you off guard and you turn to Yoongi for help, Rika’s remains silent, an impassive expression on her face.
“Rika is your mother,” Yoongi says, “but she is not my…partner.”
Her lips purse, chubby fingers pointing at you, “she’s your partner?”
He nods, a small smile ghosting his lips, “yep.”
Her head cocks to the side, tone accusing, “then why did I see you kiss mum that day?”
You refuse to look at Yoongi, suddenly developing the skill to mask your emotions, waiting patiently for his answer.
“We…that was not—”
Rika sniggers, “come on, let’s go bath while dad cleans up here.”
“I’ll come say goodnight!” She waves, while you put on your brightest smile, the legs of the chair scraping against the tile.
You can see Yoongi tail you into the kitchen in the reflection of the mirror placed near the lounge, rushing to catch up with you. Turning on the tap, you scrub down the oil from the dishes and throw the waste into the bag, anything to occupy your mind and your hands. You feel him touch your arm.
“That was a long time ago,” he mumbles, propping his chin on your shoulder, arms snaking around your waste.
You shrug him off and spin around, biting down on the skin of your cheek, “can we not talk here?”
He nods, socked feet padding across the tile as he takes you to the guest room. You sit down at the edge of the bed, eyes on your luggage that’s placed behind the door which he closes behind you and makes his way to sit next to you.
“You didn’t tell me she lives with you,” you break the silence, slotting your fingers into one another, your calm exterior a stark contrast to the coal burning your insides.
“Since last month only. I didn’t think it was important, she stays over every weekend.”
You nod, still not looking at him, “and you buy her gifts.”
“What gifts?”
“Yura told me you got her that Louis Vuitton bag.”
“It was a birthday gift. Would you look at me?”
You can hear the desperation in his voice, a shaky breath leaving your lips when you finally meet his gaze.
“Please don’t misinterpret,” he gestures from himself to the door, “all this. She’s the mother of my child.”
“I know that,” you breathe, the lump in your throat becoming more difficult to swallow, “I know.”
He dips his head, “and you’re everything to me.”
You surrender to his touch when he cups both your cheeks in his hands, pulling you toward his face, “do you have any idea how happy I am to have you here? To have both my favorite girls with me.”
You blush, gripping the front of his shirt to pull him closer. I love you.
“I’m starting to think that you like it when I’m like this,” he whispers, placing lingering kisses to your eyes and cheeks, resting his lips on your forehead.
“Like what?”
He falls on the bed and takes you with him, rolling you onto your back, eyes ablaze with something fond.
“Fussing over you,” he replies, voice above a whisper. You shiver when he traces the side of your face with his index finger, chest pressed to yours, “constantly telling you how I feel.”
You wink, “maybe.”
Wrapping your fingers around his neck, he lets you take his lips in a searing kiss, tongue sliding into his mouth with practised ease as he fits himself between your legs. Deepening the kiss by pressing his thumb into your jaw.
You need this. You need him. Desperately. If you can’t tell him how much you feel for him, you’ll show him with ardent kisses, hands fitting under his shirt to have him feel how your skin burns for him. Heart hammering against your ribcage.
He jolts away when you hear a knock on the door, pulling down the handle to reveal Yura, ready for bed in her purple pajamas.
“Dad, can you sleep by me tonight?”
He rubs the back of his neck and glances at you. You hold your arms open for Yura, kissing her goodnight, seeing Yoongi shoot you a sorrowful look.
“I’ll see you later,” he calls before closing the door.
With a sigh, you unzip your luggage to prepare for bed yourself, shuffling to the bathroom with your toiletries and skincare. By the time you’re done, you decide to head upstairs and peep into Yura’s bedroom. The sight that greets you has your heart stuttering in your chest. Yoongi’s body is curved to fit into his daughter’s bed while cradling her in his arms, she has hers thrown over his back, face pressed into his chest, both in a deep sleep.
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You rise the next morning with a fright, scrambling to find your phone and check the time. 12AM. An hour left for you to get ready and make your way to the office. You freshen up in record time and make your way to the kitchen, ears perking when you hear laughter coming from behind the wall.
“Good afternoon,” Rika smiles, transferring the chopped onions into a pot.
“Hey,” Yoongi beams. You lean into him as he pulls you into his embrace, kissing the top of your head.
“Where’s Yura?”
“School. Work starts after twelve for you? Damn,” Rika chortles, throwing a rag over her shoulder.
“I’m not starting work here today, just heading to work to check out my new office and stuff.”
Her lips part in an ‘o.’
Yoongi slides a yellow container in your direction, “coffee?”
“Yes, please.” You open the container to find a stack of pancakes with raisins. Just the way you like.
“Thanks baby,” you hum as the steam of coffee hits your face.
He sits opposite you at the counter, fingers curled around his own mug of coffee.
“You’re not at the studio today?”
He opens his mouth to answer but Rika cuts him off.
“He’s hardly ever at the studio, he works from here mostly. Especially now that I’m around to cook and feed him,” she laughs, wiping down the side of the pot.
You nod, eyes flitting back to Yoongi who shrugs, “yeah.”
“I’m the one who does everything for him. Not once did he even offer me a glass of water.”
You chew the pancake in silence, knowing that she’s referring to the way Yoongi rushes to do things for you. But you pay no mind to her bitterness.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi quips, “would you like a glass of water?”
She rolls her eyes, fluffing up her hair, “so ungrateful.”
“Anyway,” you dust your hands, rising from the chair, “thanks for the breakfast…lunch.”
Yoongi follows you to the front door, handing you the car keys, “see you later.”
You swing your laptop bag over your shoulder, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, “later.”
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The offices are a replica of the ones back home, every corner of the space brandishing the firm’s signature colors. Mr. Park escorts you to the main offices upstairs, the clicking of your heels on the wooden floors being the only sound echoing in the pristine hallway. The familiar logo is pasted at the center of the door situated near the end of the hall, grey and sage green carpet being the first thing you notice inside the space.
“This is it,” Mr. Park announces, gesturing with his iPad for you to enter the room.
There’s a single window situated behind the barren desk, pale grey chair wheeled in one corner and an empty shelf to the side. You’d obviously have to add your own spice to the place but the single window, little light filtering into the room, leaves you a little anxious. You appreciate the natural light when working.
“Obviously you can add your own décor and equipment to your liking, but you won’t be spending much time up here,” Mr. Park informs, tapping away on the screen.
“Why not? This’ll be my permanent office, right?”
He nods, sandy blond hair flopping into his eyes which he brushes away hastily, “yes. But your main office would be downstairs, near the conference rooms.”
Your eyes shift to the window, “this is my main office. When I spoke to Mr. Kim last Thursday, this is the office he directed me to.”
Mr. Park tucks his iPad under his arm, scratching the side of his head, “it seems like Mr. Kim got things mixed up. We’ve only authorised the move since we were in need of a supervisor on this side.”
Your mouth hangs open, “supervisor?”
He narrows his eyes in your direction, before lifting the tablet up to his face. And you want him to say that he’s making a mistake, but all you hear is a small goodbye as he exits the room. Leaving you to stew with the grey walls as your company.
Supervisor. For your department. Not what you planned. That means triple the workload. Your spine starts to ache all over again, as if sensing that you would be spending more time hunched over your laptop. You barely make it through your current workload and now there’d be a whole department on your shoulders. Not yet, at least. You’re required to send an email to Mr. Park with your final decision by Wednesday morning. A decision that wasn’t influenced by an increase in stress up until now.
Now you’re rethinking everything. You want to live with Yoongi, but that meant leaving behind the luxuries of working from home. Plus, the sudden addition to your contract. You are being promoted to supervisor, for the same pay. Not worth it. Is it worth it?
You think your hair must’ve turned a shade of grey by the time you make it to Yoongi’s house, the pressure that would no doubt take up majority of your time eating away at you as if you’ve already made your decision. Because that’s what you’re leaning toward.
When you enter the code, the door clicks open with a soft beep, the first thing you see is Yoongi, Yura and Rika, cosy under a blanket, laughing at the cartoon on the TV.
“Hey,” you yawn, kicking off your shoes with a slump to your shoulders.
Yura springs up from the couch to pull you toward the couch. There’s obviously not enough room for you to join them.
“Oh, hey,” Rika smiles, “have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I don’t think there’s enough curry left for you. But you can have ramen.”
You glance at Yoongi who offers a weak smile.
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway,” you reply before spinning around and making your way to the guest room, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and bed. As if that could free your mind, with the image of Yoongi with his arm draped over where Rika sat haunting you.
When you return to the bedroom, tying up your gown, the smell of garlic has your stomach growling. Yoongi sits at the edge of the bed, pointing to the tray of food when he sees you.
“I made ramen,” he smiles, “and steak.”
You rub the towel against your damp hair, plopping down next to him.
“It smells great. Thank you.” You waste no time tucking into the meal, sighing happily when you feel it settle in your empty stomach. Yoongi watches as you scarf down the noodles, offering him a bite now and again before licking your lips and settling against the headboard, his head on your chest.
“You seem tense. Is something wrong?”
There’s always something up with you. So you choose to tell him about your little mix up at the office another time.
“How was your day?”
You run your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails up and down against his scalp since he mentioned once that he finds it relaxing.
“Not too bad. Spent all day chatting to Namjoon about the soundtrack. Yours?”
You draw in a deep breath, “okay.”
He sits up from your lap and you’re afraid that he’s going to pester you to tell him what’s wrong but the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.
“I have something for you.”  
You blink, “what is it?”
He pats the back of your hand, “wait.”
A million and one possibilities run through your mind but just one has your heart leaping to your throat. What if? No, he won’t. It’s too soon. Too soon for him. And you haven’t even told him how you really feel, there’s still so much you need to say to him. You wonder if it’s the same for him. Your heart skips a beat when he returns with a black velvet box in hand. That possibility being scratched out when you take in the size of the box. But it could be a necklace?
He crosses his legs and places the box in the space between you. His cheeks are tinged pink, goofy smile in place.
“Open it,” he chirps, pushing it toward you which you do with shaky hands.
It’s a necklace. One with a huge white crystal in the centre. You glance at him, and he seems just as nervous as you. When you take it between your fingers, lifting it from the box, you realize that it’s not a necklace.
“I just thought of you when I saw it.”
You’re inspecting the chain, shaped in a ‘Y,’ two silver clamps at the top with the crystal dangling at the bottom.
“Yoongi,” your spit feels too thick to swallow, core pulsing at the thought of having him use this on you.
He takes it from your hand and shoves it into the box, “obviously, we don’t need to use it now.”
“We have enough time to—”
His head snaps forward when you take the box from him, eyes not meeting yours, “hmm?”
“I want to.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up, voice above a whisper, “yeah?”
You reopen the box and twirl the silver in your fingers, setting the velvet on the nightstand, “yeah.”
He pushes you down on the bed, hovering over you with lust swimming in his eyes.
“But you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he warns, plucking the chain from your hold.
You nod, anticipation pooling in your core, “I will.”
“And if it gets too much?”
You search his eyes, “you mean like a safe word?”
“Yeah,” he nods, cupping your chin with his thumb pressing into your lip, “you’re so cute.”
His eyes flit to yours, “what?”
“Remember that time you said you had a dream about Anabelle, that doll. You know she was trying to—”
He covers your mouth with his palm, “yes. I remember and did you have to bring it up now?!”
“I just thought it would be funny,” you shrug, giggling when a grimace passes over his features.
“Fine. Anabelle. Hope we’d never have to use it,” he chuckles, making quick work of removing your robe and his shirt.
You run your palms down his muscular chest, the tufts of dark hair under his arm has your pussy throbbing in want. He pushes your legs off his waist when you try to hook them around him, kneeling between your legs.
“We’d have to warm you up first. Give me your hand.”
Obeying his orders without a second thought, you hold up your left hand, eyes widening when he pops your finger into his hot mouth, tongue swirling around the digit.
He laughs, deep and throaty, knowing how he has you wrapped around his finger. He pinches one clamp between his fingers and holds it over your hand, eyes on your face when it squeezes around your finger. It doesn’t feel too bad, just an intense press on your fingers.
Your pain tolerance is high.
He smiles, “okay.”
Settling down on his stomach between your legs, you watch with rapt attention as he pulls the cups of your bra under your boobs, rings glinting in the dim lighting of the lampshade. You gulp, eyes fluttering shut when he begins to pepper kisses between the valley of your breasts.
He wets your nipples with his spit, pout covering your flesh momentarily before he pulls away and orders you to keep your eyes open. Your tits are glazed with his saliva, mouth hanging open when he lets one of the clamps dig into your skin near your nipple, ensuing a soft gasp from your lips.
You hum, chin hitting your chest as you nod.
“Let me hear you, kitten.”
He does the same to the other side, letting it claw down on your areola. The burn creeps along your skin, collecting in the apex of your thighs.
“It’s okay. Higher,” you moan, legs sliding up to plant your feet on the sheets.
Breath drifting over your skin, the clamps bite into your nipples and you whimper, eyes scrunching shut, throat going dry before the pain ebbs into pleasure, rolling through you when he tugs on the crystal experimentally, lips parted in hushed gasps of his name.
“So fucking pretty,” he whispers, the sound of his rings hitting the nightstand reaches your ears before he tugs again, earning a moan from you which he swallows up zealously, tongue sliding across your bottom lip.
You mewl when he keeps the chain tight in his fist, smacks of his lips against your skin echoing in the heated space as he makes his slow descent down the length of your body, hitting your legs open further with his shoulders to slide his fingers through your clothed slit, groaning to himself when he feels how wet you’ve become. Eyes still closed, your teeth pierce into your bottom lip to stifle the moans that rumble through you when he pushes your panties to the side and begins to rub slow circles on your clit. The bed creaks under his weight when he sinks down further on the sheets, planting kisses on the skin of your inner thigh before his tongue pokes out, fingers moving down to your throbbing hole when his lips purse around your clit just as he tugs the chain again.
“Yoongi,” you moan, heels of your feet pressing into his back when his tongue wiggles into your folds, fingers slipping into your heat slowly.
He pulls on the chain again and your walls tighten around his fingers, more of your slick dripping down his palm as he flicks his tongue erratically, drawing moans from your swollen lips.
“Fuck, so fucking tight,” he speaks into your cunt, lapping up your juices like a man starved, fingers curling into your pussy to rub against your sweet spot, nipples caught in his hold.
You reach down to tug on his hair, head pressed into the pillow as his fingers continue to fuck into your sopping pussy, grinding against his tongue, thrashing under him when he twists the chain between his fingers and tugs harder. He flattens out his tongue against your clit, fingers splitting you open with lewd squelches while you’re approaching your high quicker than usual, holding onto his hair for dear life.
“Gonna-ah!” His teeth catch on your clit before he pulls away as his fingers remain knuckle-deep into your pussy, raising your back to an arch with the chain, nipples pulsating, mind going hazy, tears prickling your eyes.
Your eyes crack open to find him kneeling in front of you, removing his fingers from your quivering hole, licking them dry with his chin covered in your essence. You whine from having your orgasm ripped away, goosebumps raised on your skin when he removes the clamps from your abused nipples and tosses it aside. You hiss when he takes the flesh in his palms and runs his thumbs over them tenderly, gleaming eyes tracking the motion.
“Yoongi,” you keen, wrapping your legs around his waist once again, grinding into his thick bulge.
He meets your gaze, tongue poking out of his mouth as he flips you over and grips your ass harshly, ravenous hands pulling down your panties. You push your ass back onto his crotch, sighing when your pussy comes into contact with his heavy cock, sweat beading on your forehead.
“So fucking ready for my cock. Hmm?”
You grip the pillow when the blunt tip of his cock pushes through your hole, chanting out ‘yes, yes, yes.’
“Gonna fuck you nice and good,” he grunts, nails digging into your skin even harder with each inch of his cock penetrating your ridged walls.
Sighing once he’s fully-sheathed by your walls, you beg him to move, sitting up on your elbows to turn around. You clench around him upon seeing the blissful look on his handsome face, head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest, mouth hanging open.
“Fuck,” he rasps when you clench around him again, hand fitting in your hair to pull your head back gratingly, “what did I say? You remember what happens when you misbehave?”
Moaning at the memory, you screw your eyes shut when you think of the last time you got him mad, left begging for him to make you cum after hours of him teasing you. He grips your hair and pulls you flush against his chest, the slow drag of his cock against your walls ensuing a string of curses from him.
He fits his thumb into your mouth, and you suck filthily, palm gripping your chin as he begins to fuck into you with rapid flexes of his hips into yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“So fucking beautiful.”
“This pussy was made for me.”
“Taking my cock so well.”
Yelping when he presses your face into the pillow, he grabs the back of your neck and holds you in place as he drills his cock into you, reaching that spot only he could find, walls fluttering around him. You’re biting down on the pillow to keep from screaming out his name, cock lodged deep inside of you when he reaches between your legs and curls his fingers around your throbbing clit, twitching under him, air being knocked out of your lungs. He pushes his thumb further into your mouth, teeth piercing the skin below your ear. You gag, heat crawling along the length of your spine as you cum with a shuddering cry.
“That’s it, kitten. Fuck, always so pretty when you’re like this,” he grits out, veins dragging along your walls until his thrusts become shallow, leaning forward to bite down on your shoulder, spilling into you with low groans that has your walls closing around him once again. A mix of your arousal drips down your thighs when he pulls out and collapses next to you.
You shuffle closer to him, catching your breath while he does the same with his arm slung over your waist, eyes closed.
When your breaths even out, he opens his eyes to find you already looking at him. The corners of his eyes smiling with him.
“That was nice,” he hums, speaking into your hair, “how do you feel?”
“I feel great, although my nips could use a little break,” you chuckle, fingers splayed across his chest as you stare up at him, heart bursting.
“Sorry, do they need a massage?”
You shake your head frantically, passing him a disapproving frown, “no, they’re good for now.”
He chuckles, rubbing his cheek against yours.
“Although, I think I need to shower again,” you add, grimacing at the feel of his cum drying on your thighs, sweat collecting on your scalp.
“No problem,” he grins, kissing your forehead once before pulling away to peer into your eyes. Your heart speeds up once again, limbs tangling with his as he smiles at you affectionately, butterflies swarming into your tummy.
His lips part, energy from his gaze connecting with yours, “I—”
Your eyes widen, scrambling to cover yourself with the blanket, “did you lock the door?”
He slides off the bed and puts on his underwear, jogging around the room to find the rest of his clothing, “of course!”
“Dad?! Can you come sleep with me and mum?”
You watch him pause at the door before he returns to your side and squishes your cheeks together, pouty lips slotted in yours briefly.
“Think you can shower without me? Promise I’ll come back later.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, holding the sheets up with one hand while the other fixes his hair.
He leans forward to peck your lips again, “thank you.”
Waving him off with a smile, you adjust your sticky underwear and reach for your robe to head into the bathroom once again, this time with a new wave of haunting thoughts. What was he going to say? The butterflies are still present in your stomach along with the ache between your legs and the marks on your neck. You’re in love with Yoongi and you’re going to tell him tonight. He’s considerate and patient, and he’ll surely understand when you tell him about your situation at work.
After spending almost four hours waiting for him to come back to your room, you decide to find him yourself. Because you won’t rest until you get everything off your chest.
Making your way upstairs, you see that he’s not in his room or in Yura’s. The door at the end of the hallway was left ajar so you poke your head through. Heart sinking to your stomach when you see Yura sleeping in between her mum and dad, Rika’s arm over Yoongi’s back, cuddling together. Chest going tight, you return to the guest room feeling defeated. Do they do that often? That’s the mother of his child. But they’re not together, you’re with him.
Sleep refuses to take you, vision going blurry as you stare up at the ceiling in contemplation. Yura needs her mother and father. Parents these days don’t consider the effect their actions have on their children. You don’t want to be that person who comes between them, especially when they seem to be living comfortably. No matter how much Yoongi says that he needs you to complete his family. You’d just be an extra in his life. Always.
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Somehow, you realize that you had fallen off to sleep when you wake up the next morning with a bitter taste in your mouth, the sudden urge to pack up and go home coming to the forefront of your mind. The house is quiet and when you check the rooms, the driveway vacant, you know that they must’ve went out today, since it’s a public holiday. You don’t feel like eating, scrubbing down your stained bowl from last night as it all comes flooding back. Yoongi and his ex, together with their child, in one bed. He didn’t even come to see you like he promised. Your second night spent here without him.
You’re dragging your luggage to the lounge, all that you’ll say to Yoongi well-rehearsed, when the front door clicks open.
Yoongi holds Yura’s hand while Rika holds the other, smiles splitting their faces and it only hurts you more when Yoongi’s falls as soon as his eyes find yours, as if he did something wrong. When he didn’t.
“Hiii,” you smile, Yura kisses your cheek as you bend down to pinch hers, “where have you guys been?”
“We went out for ice-cream,” she beams, following her mother into the kitchen.
“That’s nice,” you let out. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow when he spots your luggage behind you.
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to come along,” he takes a step toward you, “but you looked so peaceful when I saw you this morning.”
He leans in closer to peck your cheek, but you turn your head and he kisses your temple instead.
“Where are you off to?”
You thrust your thumb in the direction of the hallway, “can we talk?”
He nods, fitting his fists into his jeans pockets, “okay.”
Wringing your hands all the way to the guest room, you stand at the window once the door is closed. The state of the room would have one thinking that you didn’t even visit.
“What’s up?”
“I have to go back.”
His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “so soon? I thought you were staying till Sunday.”
You swallow, keeping your eyes on floor, “I changed my mind.”
You mirror his stance, slotting your hands in your coat pockets, “there was a little misunderstanding at work, and I can’t…move here.”
“What do you mean?”
“They only agreed for me to move if I took up the position as supervisor,” you inform, seeing him sit down on the bed from the corner of your eye.
“That wasn’t what I agreed to.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t that bad of a misunderstanding, right?”
You look up to see him wearing a perplexed expression, patting the space next to him to which you take with labored breaths.
“It’s not my job title. Not what I applied for. Supervisor means more work for me, and I barely manage now,” you laugh grimly, voice raising in pitch.
He stares at his feet, “so, you don’t want to move in with me because you’re afraid of the workload?”
His features turn to stone, lips in a thin line when he turns to look at you again, eyebrow cocked.
“It’s not that,” you rush out, suddenly defensive after hearing the way he put it, “it’s not my job. I’m gonna be working my ass off, longer hours for the same salary.”
Silence falls over you and you’re trying to figure out what’s going on in his mind, but his eyes become difficult to read. He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself with a sigh, fiddling with the hangnail on his thumb. You place your hand over his to stop his movements, hitting your shoulder against his.
“You can still visit me whene—”
“Relationships force you to make sacrifices.”
You blink, lump forming in your throat when he sets your hand in your lap and rises to his feet.
“I know that but—”
“Just admit that all this is beyond you. Living with me, with Yura,” he snaps, shrugging lightly, while you’re struggling for words.
“What? Yoongi. That’s not—”
“Since college, you were always so particular about this and that.”
You step in front of him, shaking your head weakly, “what? No.”
“So worried about the future. About things that aren’t even in your control.”
“Yoongi,” you breathe, holding a finger up to his face, “you know that’s bullshit. I was there for you when—”
“When Rika left me all alone. I know. You’re always reminding me.”
You can’t believe what he’s saying. As if you didn’t spend all those years making it through the bad days together. His eyes hold a new emotion, one you haven’t seen directed at you.
“You’re getting things wrong. You don’t even need me here, Yoongi. You have everything to complete that perfect life you always talked about,” you sob, pointing to the door behind him, “a stable job, this house, a beautiful, healthy child and her mother. Present.”
Realization falls over his features, “you’re mad at me.”
“You’re mad because Rika and I hooked up,” he mumbles, reaching out for you while you’re slapping his hands away, tears brimming your eyes.
“You hooked up with her?”
He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, whispering your name, “before us. It doesn’t even matter.”
You shake your head vehemently, sobs wracking your body, “it does matter for fuck’s sake! Before or after us. I don’t care. You live with her!”
A crease forms between his brows, “so what?”
“It could happen again! You sleep in the same bed as her. She’s here all day. Your—”
He grips your shoulders, towering over you, “that doesn’t mean anything. She’s the mother of my child,” his voice cracks with pain, “you’re the one for me.”
“But she was your first love,” you spit, the words burning up your throat, “you’re forgetting that I was there when she left. You were broken. It took you years to get over it.”
He stammers for a reply, fingers pressing into your shoulders which you shake off.
“Think of Yura,” you say finally, walking around his hunched figure, “she needs both her mum and dad, and I won’t be able to live with myself if I’m the person who ruins that for her.”
Wiping your eyes furiously, you’re stopped by his hand on your wrist, yanking you further into the room against his chest.
“It doesn’t matter if she was my first love,” he begins, sorrow collecting in his eyes, “the woman who helped me overcome every challenge life threw my way, why no one else worked out for me. N-none of this would’ve happened if I just confessed all those years ago.”
His lip trembles, Adam’s apple bobbing before he takes you into his arms, lips pressed against your ear. You’re patting his back a little bemused, heart pounding in your ears.
“I love you.”
You pull away from him, eyes wide in shock, “what?”
His eyes flicker up to the ceiling, “you’re gonna make me say it again?”
Lip caught between your teeth to tame more tears from spilling, you nod.
He wraps an arm around your waist, minty breath mixing with your own, “I love you.”
Too overwhelmed by emotions, you jump up to wrap your legs around his torso, lips meeting his in a salty kiss. He lifts you up by your ass, holding you close to him while you’re kissing him with all your heart, transferring all your feelings with the press of your lips.
Somehow, whenever he’s close, reminiscent of all those years ago when things felt hopeless, you know that in the end everything will be alright. The words you repeated to him every single night when he was close to giving up, taking turns attempting to put Yura to sleep.
He rests his forehead against yours, tucking your hair behind your ears, “we’ll figure something ou—"
You love him, and nothing else matters. Because true love will always prevail.
“I love you too.”
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a/n — if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or an ask if you’re shy, it’d mean a lot to me.
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© minyfic 2021 do not copy/repost/translate.
603 notes · View notes
taeshobipop · 16 days ago
“Will you let me take care of you?”
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Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: drabble, roommates!au, fluff, (a pinch of) angst
Prompt: “Will you let me take care of you?”
Rating: R 
Warnings: intoxicated yoongles, making out turned slightly heated but nothing too explicit!
Word Count: 2.0k
a/n ✑ wow, so this turned out way longer than i had initially planned...but i luv yoongi so it’s ok 🥟♡ and if u see any typos/grammar mistakes…no u didn’t.
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Yoongi thought that you were weird. Weirdly cute.
He often came home after basketball practice to find you seated on the floor — sheeted notes scattered around you like a halo, yellow highlighter twirling between your fingers, and brows furrowed in deep concentration.
“Why are you on the floor?” He had asked once, slipping out of his tattered sneakers.
When you had answered him, your eyes were still glued to the disorganized stack of papers, “I’m organizing my class notes.”
“On the floor?”
So Yoongi thought that you were weird. Weirdly adorable.
Though recently, you had been taking residence on the floor for much longer than usual; stretching into the early hours of the morning with crust-ridden eyes and chapped lips. Yoongi chalked this up to the upcoming exam season. 
To say that he was worried would’ve been an understatement. He knew self-care came as an afterthought (if even at all) during this time of the year.
So tonight, after his basketball practice, Yoongi had made it his mission to get you to let loose, slip in some extra hours of sleep if he was lucky.
He knew he could only succeed with the help of his trustworthy friend: Mister Alcohol.
“Yo,” he announced upon entering your shared dorm. 
You glanced up from your mountain of documents, many of which were excessively highlighted in shades of neon yellow and neon pink. “Sup.”
“You free to hang tonight?” Yoongi asked, laying his shoes against the wall.
When he looked back at you, the expression painted on your face told him ‘seriously? does it look like I’m free?’ But Yoongi was determined, and he would not be deterred.
“I bought wine,” he lifted up his sports bag, indicating that the said intoxication was safely stored inside.
His smile widened upon catching your intrigued face, eyes lighting up by the slightest.
“What brand?” You cocked a brow, already beginning to shove your papers to the side. 
Ding, ding, ding! And we’ve got a winner, folks!
Yoongi just laughed, his low baritone echoing through the walls of the room. “You’re favorite brand,” he smirked. 
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“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” You snatched the bottle from his grasp, annoyed because you were supposed to be the drunk one tonight. Not him.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to be truly mad though, because drunk Yoongi was adorable, and having the privilege of being his roommate made it all the better.
He turned to face you, head resting comfortably on the couch. “I din’ drink anything yet,” his words were slurred, a lazy grin dancing along his lips.
You scoffed at that. “Yeah, totally,” you said, taking another swig of the wine.
The evening had transcended into casual conversation and catching up about personal matters. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you and your roommate. Yoongi had always grounded you — he was your buoy in an open ocean, a life preserver to hold onto when needed most. You knew you were sinking too deep when he had offered to spend the night drinking your worries away. Yoongi was never too difficult to read, he didn’t try to be either.
“You know what I think,” Yoongi declared rather loudly, a single hand running through his thick locks. He paused mid-sentence to get you to look at him. When you complied, he continued. “I think that you need to take care of yourself more.”
Titling your head to the side, you send him a puzzled expression.
“Or at least let me take care of you,” he added softly, intoxicated gaze locking deep with yours. 
To hide the way your cheeks flushed bright pink, you lifted the green-tinted bottle up to your mouth. Yoongi clamped his hand over yours on the glass, pulling it down.
He stared at you, eyes gentle and expectant.
There was a slight crease in your brows, days of pent up stress marring your delicate features that he had grown to be so fond of. He stretched out his hands to smoothen the wrinkle, flattening your bone with his thumbs — “Will you let me take care of you?” — he felt rather than heard the way your breath hitched.
Taking the bottle from your hold, he settled it onto the coffee table. You gulped. Yoongi was drunk, for sure he had no clue what was coming out of his mouth.
His fingers slid to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging you towards his chest. “Can I take care of you?” He whispered, boozed breath fanning across your chin.
Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, subconsciously leaning closer. Flickering your gaze down to his alcohol-glossed lips, in Yoongi’s hazy state of mind, he took this as a clear indicator — in an instant, he closed the small remaining distance; mouths moving in tandem, hands carrying you up to rest on his lap, stomach swooning with nothing but content. 
He sighed as your fingers slid to the back of his head, toying with the soft hairs at his nape. “Yoongi,” you murmured, lost in a trance, “y-you’re drunk.”
“Mmm,” he hummed. His tongue poked out to prod the entrance of your lips, coaxing you to give him access. You did without complaint. 
“We should—,“ you moaned as his hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, “We shouldn’t do t-this. You’re drunk.”
“M’ not,” Yoongi deepened the kiss, hands exploring to pull you closer. He didn’t want any space between you. 
“You are,” nodding into the kiss, you broke apart for breath. You grinned when you felt him chasing your lips, but your head swiveled to the side, causing his forehead to land on your shoulder. Instead, he started to feel you up, large hands gliding along the sides of your body. He placed a tender kiss onto your neck.
“Yoongi, don’t do this to me.” You breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
He traveled down the column of your neck, eagerly sucking the area of your clavicle. Gingerly, his hands sneaked up the underside of your shirt, caressing your velvety skin.
It was the hint of desperation that had finally gotten him to halt his ministrations. He hovered, forehead connected with yours, breathing, waiting.
A palpitating silence settling between the two of you.
Suddenly, you lifted off his lap, the comfort of your body pressed against him now gone. 
“You should go to bed,” you cut him off, “I’ll—”
“Come sleep with me,” he interjected, pleading. He saw the panic in your eyes, he needed you to know that he wanted this. He wanted you. Drunk or not, his answer would remain.
“No, Yoongi. You’re drunk — you’re going to regret this tomorrow.” The latter part came out as a whisper, as if you didn’t want to say it yourself. He wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow. Either that or he’d regret it, and you didn’t think you could deal with the heartbreak. 
“I won’t, Y/n. Come sleep—“
“Goodnight,” you spoke softly, willing the tears not to spill; you were getting too emotional, you needed to leave before it could escalate.
With your final parting, you slipped back to your room, leaving your roommate to his own. Sleep didn’t come easy that night.
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You were nervous: hands clammy, brows pinched, lips pursed. 
After last night, your mind was in a frenzy. What if Yoongi doesn’t remember? Your mind supplied. What if you have to live with the guilty conscience of making out with your roommate? It conjured up. Or worse, what if he does remember? And what if he’s so appalled by the thought, he decides to move out?
Your pacing footsteps in front of his bedroom quickened. With a glass of water clutched in one hand and an aspirin in the other, the panic you felt creeping through your bloodstream started to feel overwhelming.
“I can hear you outside, you know.” Your roommate’s sleep ladened voice sounded through the door — you froze, rooted in place. “Can you just…come inside?” He sighed, as if sounding defeated.
Slowly, you made your way, turning the doorknob at the speed of a sloth. Inside, you spotted Yoongi on his bed; back facing the door and the blanket pulled up high. 
“Hi,” Yoongi said without turning. You couldn’t see his face from where you stood. When you didn’t respond, he finally shifted to face you. “That for me?” He pointed at the glass and pill, propping himself up against his elbows.
You nodded, setting it down on top of his dresser before your gaze fell back onto the man on the bed. He looked beautiful — face slightly puffy and hair mussed in a blizzard, but that was only warranted considering the time of day.
Yoongi met your eyes with a smile, he flipped open his blanket and gestured for you to come lay next to him. Crawling onto his bed, you kept a safe distance between you two, only for him to disregard it by falling onto your lap; his head nestled comfortably against your pillowy thighs.
Maybe Yoongi really did forget, you thought. Your hands found their way into his hair, combing through the protruding strands as you attempted to placate your roaring heart. Maybe you could live like this. Anything was better than him leaving, you couldn’t even begin to fathom the thought — so you remained quiet, you could keep this as your own little slip-up.
“I meant what I said, you know.” His voice cut through your thoughts, tethering you back to reality. He twisted his body. “I want to take care of you,” Yoongi whispered, lifting himself from your legs. 
Yoongi remembers. He remembers and he—
“I don’t regret what I did,” he continued softly, feline eyes holding your gaze. “I just…” Yoongi paused, biting down on his bottom lip. Unknowingly, you held in a breath. “I just hope you don’t regret it either.”
Your heart had stopped beating, pink and purple fireworks bursting in the sky. The eutony of words bellowing from your roommate’s lips could only suggest one thing, right? 
Yoongi doesn’t regret it. Yoongi hopes that you don’t regret it too. But that could only mean…
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he quickly added, mistaking your silence as a form of hesitancy, irresolution. He scrambled on the bed, pulling the covers down and swinging his legs over the edge. He stood up, anxious. “I’m sorry, I don’t- you don’t have to say anyth—!”
You lurched across the bed and pulled him by his arms. Yoongi yelped as he tumbled down unceremoniously, his back pressed against the firm mattress. You wasted no time in caging him still, your arms propped up on either side of his head.
He went tongue-tied, eyes boggling in perplexity as he witnessed the beaming smile that plastered your face. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” He asked in a whisper, breath falling shallow and erratic. You were messing with him, toying with his heart. You were so close to him.
“You were going to leave,” you whispered back, hands searching for his which were sprawled along his sides. You took your chances, tangling your finger only for him to reflexively do the same; he squeezed your hands. “I couldn’t let you leave.”
“Why not?” Yoongi breathed, eyes flitting down to your lips.
You jiggled your hand out of his grasp, reaching up to cradle his face. Yoongi leaned into your touch.
“Because, dummy…I like you. I like you a lot and I don’t regret what happened last night,” you sighed, the heated moment resurfacing in your mind, “at all.”
After a moment of thought, an adorable gummy smile broke across his face. He simply laughed, taking his free hand to wrap around your wrist and pulling it towards his chest, he pressed your palm into the area of his heart.
“Do you feel that?” Yoongi asked, pure elation coursing through his body, “my heart’s racing — for you.”
You let out a breathless giggle, dipping down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’re such a dork.”
“I’m your dork.”
“You are,” you smiled, “you’re mine.”
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516 notes · View notes
snackhobi · 10 months ago
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min yoongi is the best shot in the business. you’re the best gunsmith in the city and the only person he trusts to programme his tech; to make his gear. 
he likes your work. it’s a shame, then, that he doesn’t like you.
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader / word count: 14.3k / genre + rating: NSFW (18+), cyberpunk!au, smut, frenemies (?) to lovers
warnings/etc: hitman!yoongi. black market dealer/gunsmith!reader. cursing/explicit language. whole lotta tension, sexual and otherwise. mentions of injury/violence. minor character death (no one important, don’t worry, this isn’t an angst fic). brief hurt/comfort. reader has tattoos. sexually explicit content. oral; fingering; multiple orgasms; overstimulation (f). unprotected sex (please take the necessary precautions irl). rough sex?. choking. creampie. brief mention of aftercare. I think that’s everything but please lmk if I missed any!
a/n: thank you SO MUCH to both @hobi-gif​ and @morndas​ for beta reading this and being so supportive, ily both so much and I owe you my life 🤧💕 as always what was meant to be a short fic turned into a huge one. also this is technically for my 1.1k milestone but it’s a billion years late, oops!​
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Yoongi really doesn’t like you.
You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You needle him all the time, dig your fingernails in and squeeze, revelling in the way he sets his jaw, the muted spark of irritation in his eyes. You bat your eyelashes and tilt your head, throw it back whenever you laugh and reveal the easing column of your throat, dragging each interaction out with a kind of sadistic pleasure that has him gritting his teeth. Because you love annoying him, getting under his skin, tapping your fingers against the soft swell of your bottom lip as you eye him up, taking your time before you speak.
Infuriating. You’re infuriating and you know it.
It’s unfortunate, really, because you’re unavoidable. 
Jungkook had asked, once, why Yoongi doesn’t just go elsewhere. They’re more than familiar with the underbelly of this heaving city, underneath all the neon lights and shimmering holograms and towering skyscrapers and legal tech; the scuttling seams of back alley traders and illegal goods, tech or otherwise. There are plenty of black market dealers, after all, plenty of other vendors he could go to to get the equipment he wants. Plenty of other skilled crafters, artificers, artisans, people who would be more than happy to create the things that Yoongi asks for, that he needs. People who can get their hands on anything you want. For a price.
Yoongi’s answer had been short and succinct.
“She’s the best there is,” he’d said, and that had been that.
Because it’s true. You might be exasperating, maddening, laughing in Yoongi’s face where others might cower or genuflect, but no one is as good as you. All of Yoongi’s gear has been crafted by you; each and every single one of his weapons, his tech, the headpiece that fits so perfectly around the back of his skull that Yoongi often forgets that it’s there, hidden in his hair, unfolding across his eyes whenever he lines up a shot to make the kill—there’s evidence of your work across every inch of his body, hidden away under his clothes, day in, day out. Even when he’s not on a contract Yoongi never leaves anything to chance. 
(A walking armoury, Namjoon had called him once.)
(You’d phrased it differently.
You’re always packing, hmm? you’d hummed, rapping your fingernails in a steady beat as you’d leaned back in your chair, smiling with teeth. There was laughter in your words and your gaze, no attempt made to hide your amusement, but after your goading you’d made him a collapsible sword anyway. It’s a beautiful thing, this folding blade, bristling with plasma and energy if Yoongi needs it, lethal and deadly. One of his most prized possessions, something that’s gotten him out of multiple corners, and he owes it—you—his life.)
There’s no one on par with you. You’re a Renaissance woman, a fiercely talented polymath who doesn’t need to rely on anyone else to create the things you create. Low-tech, high-tech, no tech—you make everything from scratch, programme things yourself, hunched over each project in your own workshop with nothing but your mind and your own two hands.
It’s the only reason he puts up with you and your antics, the sharp jibes, the shameless flirting; you’re the most infuriating person he knows, but there’s no one else he would trust with the work that you do.
Which is why Yoongi finds himself here, again and again, as familiar with this studio as you are—he watches you work, sometimes, watches you sketch up blueprints and drag your fingers across your array of displays, your world cast in shifting shades of cyan and electric blue from all the tech in here, humming and alive. He likes to see how his equipment is made, after all. It can mean the difference between life and death. He takes this seriously.
It’s the one time you might be quiet. Might be quiet, because you still talk even when you work; flick your gaze between Yoongi and whatever’s set in front of you, that ever present smile spread across your lips, smug and amused. You’re only silent during the hardest jobs. Like right now, you’re intense and focused, a furrow dug between your brows as you survey his sniper rifle—almost shorn in two. (It had been the only thing to hand when he’d had to block a blow from a guard he’d somehow overlooked, no time to draw any other weapons before they’d started to brawl.)
You’d been unimpressed. You’d raised your eyebrows with all the severity of a disappointed mother, bitten words out at him with molten snideness, dripping heat and snark.
“It’s a gun, Yoongi. A gun. You know, something you shoot with? Pew pew? Blammo? I’m not sure what sort of shields and body armour you’ve seen in the past but this isn’t either of those things. Do you want me to sketch some diagrams up for you? Or maybe I could write you a book. Baby’s First Arsenal, Chapter One: The Difference Between Things That Are Guns And Things That Aren’t. Would that be helpful?”
No one else talks to Yoongi like that. No one else would dare. It’s only a rare few that know his birth name and it’s not often that he hears it, more used to the sound of Agust D falling off people’s lips. But that had been part of your price, part of the agreement when he’d first met you and asked for your services: his real name.
Yoongi had let it wash over him, had endured your tongue-lashing before putting the gun down with a heavy finality and thrust it over at you, tired of all your talk.
“Just fix it,” he’d demanded.
You’d laughed in his face.
“As always, your bedside manner leaves something to be desired,” you’d said, taking the rifle from him.
The D-2 Shadow isn’t just a weapon. It’s a piece of art, clean edges and slick lines, and Yoongi is grateful to have it back in his hands. There’s no other sniper rifle like it, made of super lightweight alloy and easy to handle; thermal scope, enhanced stabilisers for accuracy; superior kinetic coils for better shot penetration. Yoongi had asked for the best and you’d delivered. Gone above and beyond, crafted a weapon the likes of which no one else possesses, modified in ways other people can’t even fathom.
And you’d fixed it when he'd almost let it get destroyed. Made it better than new, even, layered it in more alloy to make it stronger without making it heavier, a new material of your own design. If he hadn’t known you as well as he does he’d have worried that it was beyond repair, knows that other gunsmiths would have taken one look at its crumpled body and shaken their heads, but you hadn’t. 
Of course you hadn’t. You never do.
You charge him a pretty penny for your work, make him pay through the nose for everything he asks of you, but Yoongi is more than willing to do so. More than capable of paying, coffers lined with more money than he might need, one of the best contract killers there is—the real price he pays is with his sanity, worn away each time you open your mouth. He can’t help but rise to your bait, as derisive as you are; it’s only the smallest things, a sharpness to his otherwise even tone, an angry spark in his eyes, but you pick up on it all.
He’s not your only customer. You don’t extend your services to many, only to the people you want to—Yoongi’s not sure what set of harebrained criteria you have that lets you choose who you’ll sell to and who you won’t but he can’t make heads nor tails of it. He knows he’s not part of your clientele because he’s got the credits to pay, nor is it because he’s one of the most highly regarded hitmen in his line of business. 
You don’t just choose people who can afford to pay or people who have a level of power and influence in this dark underworld you inhabit. You really don’t care about those things. You just pick and choose on a whim.
(Once, back when he’d first met you, Yoongi had discovered that you’d concocted an entirely new security system—practically incapable of being hacked, crawling with tech, a level of complexity even the richest elites could barely afford—for some small artist who’d worried that their paintings might get stolen. He was an unknown at the time, this V, squirrelled away in one of the dark corners in the lowest levels of the city, and you’d all but given him some of the best work you’d ever done, undercharged him something chronic.
You’d shrugged when Yoongi had asked why.
“He makes me laugh,” you’d replied.)
Yoongi isn’t your only customer but he’s certainly the only one you seem to treat the way you do. There’s a level of irreverence in everything you do, self-confidence settled across every inch of you like the obnoxious stench of a teenage boy’s body spray, but you seem to take particular pleasure in Yoongi’s displeasure. He’d brought Namjoon along, once, inquiring after an imitation greenhouse, how someone might set up the tech to raise tropical plants that wouldn’t survive otherwise (mostly above board, even; Namjoon might grow illicit plants, poisonous and prohibited, but he likes pretty flowers, too). And there had been none of the mocking that Yoongi receives. None of the wind ups. You’d been pleasant, despite your incessant snark, agreeing to take the job with a smile on your face that Yoongi never gets given.
(It had been infuriating, to know that you’re capable of not being an ass, but you just choose not to be. For fun.)
Yoongi really, really doesn’t like you, but he respects your work. Respects you, even if he’d never admit it out loud.
You keep your word. You don’t supply his competitors, although you claim it’s not loyalty to him and it’s only because they can’t pay as well as he does—winnings go to the highest bidder, you’d said sagely, as obtuse and irritating as always. 
But Yoongi knows other sellers will provide anyone who’s willing to pay, freelancers who peddle their wares regardless of affiliation or alliances. You’re beholden to no one and yet Yoongi knows you would never double cross him. Never supply anyone who challenges his work, even if they have the money, even if he’s on good terms with them (it’s not personal, it’s business; Yoongi has no issue with other hired killers as long as they stay out of his way). He knows he can rely on you, which is something to be treasured in these back-crossing back-stabbing backstreets.
So when he makes his way to your door, the details of a new contract still fresh in his mind, he instantly comes to a stop.
There’s something off. He can tell immediately, years of instinct causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise, every part of him on edge. Everything looks normal, is normal, but there’s a burning in his gut that has Yoongi’s finger itching for the trigger even though there’s nothing to shoot. 
You’ve granted him the privilege of access to your workshop, to the other rooms, entered the scans of his hand and eye and voice into the security systems, keep him updated on the varying passwords you cycle through, so he can enter whenever he needs to. 
(He’s woken you up on more than one occasion, roused you from sleep for last minute supplies before he leaves for another contract, appearing in the dead of night like a spectre of death, clothing dark and eyes darker, overflowing with weaponry. A looming silhouette edged in strokes of cyan and magenta from the ever present, low-level neon light in your room, so much darker than the bright lights of your workshop. Intimidating. 
And you always just roll your eyes and sigh and tell him to keep a better eye on his cache of equipment and climb out of bed for him. You’re so at odds to him in your sleep rumpled clothing and mussed hair, still unafraid even when he’s fully geared and ready to kill; shirt slipping off your shoulder, swathes of bare skin in the place of Yoongi's all-encompassing outfit, shimmering black light tattoos visible on your legs and arms and bare skin of your collarbones, geometric lines in the palest of blues and greens. You hand over whatever he needs and tell him the creds he owes you.
“I’ve already given you a key to my apartment and you haven’t even taken me for dinner once,” you sigh—dramatic and melodramatic—even as you hand over a bundle of crossbow bolts. The synthesised toxin inside the darts is your own concoction, of course, courtesy of the plant matter provided from Namjoon’s greenhouse.
“I’d literally rather be shot in the head than willingly spend time with you,” he replies.
“You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid,” you say, and just laugh in the face of his unimpressed deadpan. As insufferable as always.)
So he doesn’t need your permission to enter. He’s silent, light-footed as he makes his way inside, scanning each inch of this familiar interior; nothing’s wrong, not yet, but Yoongi can sense something in the air. Something heavy, settled bitter on his tongue, coating the back of his throat.
And then he walks into your workshop.
You’re meticulous. Even when you’re overrun with gear, with parts that have yet to be used, everything has its place. You prefer paper over datapads, too, tack sheets of designs and notes up on the wall, have clipboards and stacks of sheets set neatly in their place, a throwback to a time before tech ruled everything. Yoongi knows the layout of this room as well as he knows his own home, a mental map of straight lines and unwavering coordinates with you in the centre of it all.
Upheaval. Those neat lines of organised cartography have been pulled apart. Ham-handed work, to be sure, more of a statement than anything else; intent to instil fear rather than to destroy (although, Yoongi sees now that one of the monitors has been smashed, display sparking white and blue as it bleeds out electricity.). Even in the darkness of the room—overhead lights off and only emergency lighting on, painting things in shades of dark crimson and pink—Yoongi can tell that whichever interlopers have done this are already gone. The room is empty.
Then the sound of a clatter breaks the silence and Yoongi’s already got his pistol out, drawn without a thought as he approaches the sound that comes from the back room, fleet-footed and silent as he raises the gun and rounds the corner—
And sees you at the end of the barrel.
There’s a first aid kit on the floor. Packs of medi-gel and rolls of bandages and other supplies scattered around your feet. You haven’t even spotted Yoongi yet, in despair at the mess in front of you; he’s never seen you like this, never seen anything other than your veneer of enraging smugness and never-ending energy.
You flinch even as your head snaps around, eyes wide—but the second you see Yoongi you visibly relax, even though he’s still holding a gun in your direction.
There’s a bruise blossoming across your left cheek.
“Ah, Yoongi.” The smile that paints itself across your lips is almost convincing despite the dark flower that’s unfolding on your skin, blood rising to the surface and painting it in hues of pain; you wince, a little, when the smile makes your wound ache. Soldier onwards as you act as though nothing is wrong. “I know you’re always desperate for my attention but do you mind giving me a second? I’m kind of indisposed at the moment.”
Yoongi’s lips are set in a thin line. He only has one question on his mind.
“Who did this to you?”
Your gaze flickers before you break eye contact, staring at the first aid supplies on the floor. “What, this? Have you never dropped something before?”
Yoongi ignores your deflection. It only takes a few moments to reholster the pistol, to step over to you, to grasp your chin and tilt your face towards him.
“Who did this to you?”
Yoongi’s tone is quiet and low, firm and undeniable. For the first time since he’s met you it seems as though you’re lost for words, lips parted around a silent sound of surprise as you’re subjected to the full force of Yoongi’s gaze, cutting through you; past every layer of self-inflated narcissism you put on, past every deflection you might make.
There's a beat of silence.
And then you slowly but irrevocably fold underneath the weight of his stare.
You let him lead you, sit you down, bowing to his hands and his directions. You’re silent throughout, lips an unfamiliar shape as they’re pulled down into the slightest of frowns. He’s only ever seen you smile, seen you laugh, self-assured. Never like this.
You seem surprised, startled when he sits across from you and cracks open a pack of medi-gel. Yoongi’s surprised too, although he doesn’t show it, lets his instincts take over and settles into auto-pilot as he reaches for your face. He’s never seen your eyes so round, so wide, watching the hand that descends on your cheek with all the single-minded intent of a man about to fillet a fish—careful and practiced but menacing, maybe. (He doesn’t like you but you don’t deserve to have been hurt and Yoongi can’t just stand by and not help.)
And you don’t shy away. You stare at him as he stares at his fingers, layers the gel evenly across the pain of your bruise, cool and soothing.
It’s only when he’s reached for more medi-gel and touched your cheek for the second time that you finally speak.
“It was one of the Tang cousins.”
Yoongi goes still, fingers resting across your skin, slick with purple gel. 
“One of the cousins?”
Yoongi doesn’t like you. But—and God knows what he did wrong in a previous life for this to be true—you’re one of his inner circle, one of the very, very few people he trusts. You’re not friends and he doesn’t like you, but he owes you, owes you a hundred times over, owes you for every successful kill, every silent infiltration, every averted detection. All thanks to your tech and the work you put into it for him. He’s indebted to you.
Yoongi always pays his debts.
“I didn’t even catch his name.” You sound dismissive. Normally you’d laugh, deride the person you’re speaking about, but instead you just sound tired. “One of the low down ones. New kid on the block; someone I didn’t recognise, with some lackeys or similar. Trying to make a name for himself, I think. He demanded that I build weapons for him. I said no.”
The Tang family is a big one, a criminal empire that has its tendrils dug in everywhere. You don’t deal with them, have no interest throwing your lot in with them intentionally or not; it’s a big, formidable family, but it’s not the only one around. You’d be dumb to get involved in that mess of generational, cross-family conflict. You’ll sell things to the highest bidder, shift illicit high-tech stock, build generic modifications that people can buy—but you don’t make bespoke weaponry for just anyone.
You don’t even sell to the heads of the Tang family directly, let alone to some back-alley sewer rat who probably barely has the faintest ties to the family, a single vein of Tang blood in his body, just enough to give him an in.
Whoever this cousin was he must be really fucking stupid to not know that. Stupid to think he could demand anything from you. Stupid to think he could hurt you when you laughed in his face and said no. Anyone with half a brain-cell should know not to fuck with you, know that it’s an honour to even be allowed inside your workshop, that to be told ‘no’ by you is a privilege.
Stupid to think that he wasn’t going to pay for that stupidity.
The pack of medi-gel is empty, the deflated pouch forgotten on Yoongi’s knee as he stares at you. The flecks of biomatter in the gel catch the light, sparkling like glitter in the lavender that’s seeping into your skin; all the surprise is gone from your eyes and instead you’re just watching him, stolid and steady. Analytical.
(You’re smart. Yoongi knows you are. For all that you talk shit and play foolish, he never forgets about that fierce intelligence. Never underestimates you or how perceptive you are. He only wonders what’s on your mind right now; what it is that you see in front of you.)
“Next time don’t let someone in unless you’re certain you’re going to sell to them.”
You scoff in his face. “Alright, Dad. Do you want to update my curfew while you’re at it? Make it ten p.m. instead of eleven?”
Yoongi blinks slowly. You’ve got both eyebrows raised, surveying him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief that he’s trying to tell you what to do (because no one tells you what to do; they wouldn't dare). But you don’t pull away, your knees still touching his, body bowed towards him from when he’d coaxed you closer so he could reach your face—so he knows you don’t mind. Not really.
(Knows you don’t care about anyone’s opinions or rules, only sticking to your own. The fact you’d been shaken from that place of confidence by some thug—even for a moment—doesn’t sit right in Yoongi’s belly. That bitter taste is back in his throat and it’s ice cold, icicles prickling through his blood.)
(He doesn’t like you but you’re one of his people and no one fucks with Yoongi’s people.)
The bruise is still there days later, after you’ve rearranged your workshop back to the way it was, sourced a new monitor to replace the one that was broken. You’re back to smirking, already ready for his request, more bullets for his weapons and super-charged plasma to recharge his sword, but the bruise is a stark reminder of what you’ve been through. So is, too, the new blueprint he spies half finished on your open displays: an automated security system that scans thermal signatures, guns unfolding from the ceiling whenever aggressive movement is detected from an unfamiliar person. Anyone who’s not listed as familiar in the security logs. 
(Yoongi used to wonder about that. Why you didn’t have security mechs set in place, programming their AI to protect you, but you don’t like to use mechs. Don’t like to use them, even if you could afford to build them, because you compare it to forced servitude. You’ve never needed them before now, anyway. Safe in your reputation, knowing that you’re in a position of power, that people come here because they know you’re the best of the best.)
(But it seems like you don’t trust that any more. Don’t feel safe.)
Yoongi keeps as silent as always, bites his tongue when you cut him off mid-sentence with nothing more than a raised finger.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut, wagging the finger back and forth like the slow pendulum of a grandfather clock. “No more crafting requests. I’m still working on the concentration mod you asked for and I’ll let you know when it’s ready. I don't rush for anyone. Patience is a virtue, baby. Did no one ever tell you that?”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay, handsome.” Your reply is instant, unruffled, and Yoongi grits his teeth. 
But still. For all that you’re acting like normal, workshop set back into place, white lighting shining overhead, as neat and presentable as always—Yoongi can read uncertainty in the way you move. Discomfort. You don’t feel safe in your own space and it’s obvious, even if you don’t realise it.
“Come back any time,” you say coyly, and Yoongi, as always, ignores you. Transfers the creds he owes you in silence before he takes one last look at the bruise that’s still painted across your skin, dark eyes touching yours for the briefest moment before he turns and leaves.
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For the first time since you met, Yoongi buys from someone who isn’t you.
It’s not bad. Well made, decent tech, Predator pistol sitting easy in his hands when he brings it to the light and watches it unfold from its holstered state, the way plasma bursts to life in the barrel; weaker than bullets but easier to reload in the field. It’s no surprise that the Yeom family gets their stuff sourced from here. The body armour, too, isn’t bad, engraved with the family crest and cast in their colours.
It’s not bad, but it’s not as good as it could be. Not as good as Yoongi needs his tech to be, demands it to be—but quality doesn’t matter. Not today. He has a job to do.
It’s easy to find his mark. Scum gathers in stagnant water, in the dirtiest and dankest places, and this is where Yoongi finds Tang Lee. Finds him spilling beer and money in the backroom of some grimy strip club where the holograms flicker from age and the strippers are tired, trying their best to scrape a living from the seething riverbed of filth that runs underneath the bright neon lights of the skyscrapers in the levels above.
Lee isn’t alone but it’s so easy to take them out it’s laughable, men drunk from cheap alcohol; Yoongi catches one in a chokehold, smashes another’s face into the glass table with enough force it shatters, faces Lee once they’re the only two standing. The music outside is too loud and the room is sound proofed for privacy and so Yoongi isn’t interrupted as he brings Lee to his knees, thrusting his face into a smear of blood that drips from his now-broken nose, courtesy of a quick jab of Yoongi’s right fist.
It’s not a quick kill. It could be. Yoongi could have ended this in moments, caught Lee off guard and ended his miserable life almost effortlessly—but he doesn’t. He takes his time, makes it count, teaches him a lesson, has Lee on his hands and knees as he sobs out apologies and snivels for mercy before he takes the pistol and blows his brains out. Yoongi doesn’t feel sorry for the man, eyes the body impassively, not even worth his disgust—he only feels sorry for whoever finds the chaos of the room and the bodies inside, the distinct plasma burns he purposefully leaves in the wall with the Predator pistol, the entire scene he’s created here: a scuffle gone wrong, fast.
You’re not the only person Tang Lee has crossed but you’ll be the last. Yoongi checks the pulses of the other two men, finds one dead and the other still alive, barely, just like he’d planned—and his work is done. It’s the Yeom family’s problem now, any fall out from Lee’s death pointed at them, a repayment of a slight Lee had made to a Yeom supplier only a few weeks ago. (Yoongi wagers that neither family will care, will draw a veil over this moment and let this settle without raising arms, no one important enough to go to war over.)
He discards the pistol and armour once he’s done, incinerates it all, no interest in keeping subpar equipment. It’s not even worth dismantling for parts. Hoseok finds him in their basement, eyeing the blue flames that lick their way around the discarded armaments; he just watches Yoongi, inscrutable and calm as he eyes the blood on the clothing before it bursts into flames.
“Not a contract,” Hoseok says. (It’s not a question.)
“A job.” Yoongi replies, watches the cloth turn to ash through the thrumming display of the incinerator. “Something that needed to be done.”
He doesn’t tell anyone what he’s done. There’s no point in it. Yoongi decides something needs to be done and he’ll do it, whether that’s building a new chair for Jungkook after he broke his old one or killing a man who hurt you.
The next time he sees you your bruise is practically gone, faded into your skin. You’re intent on something on a monitor but when you notice him you turn, swivelling in your chair in one smooth motion as you lean back and put your hands behind your head, cross one leg over the other, dripping self-satisfaction, your smile sharp and full of teeth.
“Ah, Yoongi.” You look so smug that Yoongi has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Welcome, once again, to my laboratory. Is this visit for business or pleasure? Either way, you know I'm happy to oblige.”
“I’m here for the mod you promised me,” he says bluntly, and you just keep smiling, even as you hold out a hand for the sniper rifle, handling the D-2 Shadow with as much reverence as Yoongi does as you affix the mod.
It’s perfect, of course. All that Yoongi asked for and more. The software links with his eyepiece, biometric sensors that help him find his target, software to adjust to his pulse and breathing.
“You can even change the colour of the HUD,” you say, as if it’s some sort of buy-one-get-one-free offer, some fun little feature, rather than another helpful piece of software that you’ve created. Dismissive. An afterthought.
(You act like you take nothing seriously. Yoongi is your stark opposite, weighing everything in his hands and treating it with the level of attention it deserves, intent and focused.)
He’s staring down the scope when you speak once more. Light and easy, for once, rather than loud with your usual exaggerated exuberance or silken with unnecessary suggestiveness.
“I hear that they found a Tang family member dead.”
Yoongi just hums in response. Keeps his eye on the scope, wills the colour from dark green to white using the affinity link he has synced with his headpiece, watches the lines of the heads up display of the scope repaint themselves without even a single flicker, transition smooth and effortless. (Perfection.)
“It seems like the Yeom family did it,” you say, tone still conversational.
“Is that so.” Yoongi sounds disinterested, face impassive as he draws the gun away from his face, eye piece automatically folding away from his eyes. “Can I ask about other mods now that this one is finished?”
One of your brows rises, a perfect curve of discontent. “Say thank you first, Yoongi.”
Yoongi’s eyes cut into yours but you don’t back down, watch his blank face as he eventually says: “Thank you. Now I need more mods.”
You throw your head back as you laugh. “You’re insatiable,” you say, but you don’t say no. “What do you want now?”
(It’s not that you never say no to Yoongi. Because you have, and you do, and you will. But never because you can’t make what he asks for—and only because you refuse to make things that might endanger his safety, illicit bio-mods that other hired hitmen use, things that degrade the body from the inside out.)
Yoongi’s just holstered the Shadow, ready to go, when you speak one final time.
He’s never heard you say his name like that, soft and quiet.
“Thanks.” You’re staring at him, regarding him steadily, solemn in a way that he’s never seen. You’re smiling, as always, but the expression is lightyears away from what Yoongi is used to—just the barest hint of an upturn to your lips.
Yoongi stares back at you. “I don’t know what you’re thanking me for.”
Your smile grows, a warm thing, unfurling like a flower. Almost affectionate. “Sure,” you say. “Of course. Silly me. Slip of the tongue.” And then, as if your brain’s only just caught up with what you just said, the smile turns salacious. “On the note of slipping the tongue—”
Your cascading laughter follows him on his way out, cutting and shining with amusement. 
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Yoongi’s been getting more contracts. He’s finally buckled under Jungkook’s insistent whining and has agreed to get gear for him, too, to train him how to shoot. Hoseok has more than enough contacts in the underworld to get jobs for them both—he’s the most powerful information broker around, after all, sitting in the centre of a web he’s woven after years of work, all that sharpness and darkness hidden behind his deceptively bright smile.
(Yoongi’s lucky to consider him a friend and not an enemy.)
So that’s why he’s here with increasing frequency. That’s why he finds himself at your door more often than not. To get those orders in place, to make sure they’re progressing as fast as they need to.
You never react when Yoongi steps into your workshop. Well, you do, you lean into your hand and smirk at him, pursing your lips around each snide remark, each suggestive comment—but you never question his appearance. You just go with the flow, unbothered by his presence, even when there are other people there—other customers who eye him with unveiled curiosity and confusion (some Yoongi recognises, some he doesn’t, well-known faces and unknowns alike; none of them know who he is, though, unrecognisable as Agust D without his battle gear on). Yoongi keeps a close eye on their stances, any unchecked aggression or hostility towards you. Keeps a watch on the tension of your shoulders and spine, because of… habit. Battle instinct. Nothing else.
“You know my policy, Yoongi.” You’re analysing something in your hand. It looks like an antique spyglass, something from the decades before technology overtook the world, but it’s jammed full of tech; it doesn’t just magnify to a terrifying degree, it also amplifies sound, connected to an earpiece that’s sleek and easy to overlook. ‘A small project’, you’d called it, as if it isn’t something that people would pay a fortune to own. “If I’m making something for someone I have to meet them first. If you want me to make anything for this ‘JK’ then it’s not happening until you bring him here. Just like with your friend RM.”
Yoongi is lolling by your monitors, half-asleep in your chair (which had moulded to the shape of his body the second he sat in it, designed to be too comfortable for its own good). 
“I know you can’t pull yourself away from me,” you continue, glancing up from the scope. “But you have to spend time with your friends sometimes. I know they’re not as pleasing to look at as me—”
You shift the spyglass to one hand and lean your chin on the other, regarding him with sharp eyes and an amused quirk to your lips. “I love that you think you can tell me what to do.”
Yoongi resists the urge to make a noise at the back of his throat, opting to keep mum instead.
He’s too tired to argue with you. He’d come straight after a contract, blood still on the edge of his sleeves (not his), watched the way your eyebrows had risen when you’d casually taken in the state of him before offering to wash his jacket. You know the reality of this world you both inhabit, operating in the shadows, survival paid for in blood; you might not be on the high ground, lining the shot up to take the kill, but you craft the trigger that Yoongi pulls.
(You might be aware of this reality but you’re far removed from it, shaken by violence on your own door. You never should have been faced with it. You’re an inventor; a creator. Not a killer. Not like Yoongi is. He’s not going to let that happen again. He doesn’t like you but you shouldn’t have been subject to pain—shouldn’t still have your motions edged with a held breath, as if you’re waiting for it to repeat itself. 
No matter how well you hide it, Yoongi knows that there's a part of you that's still scared.)
“I know you think you’re too important to need to remember things, but we’ve worked together for long enough that you know that I’d ask to meet JK first, Yoongi,” you say. “Did you really have to come straight after murking someone just to be reminded about that? Not complaining—you know I love seeing that pretty scowl of yours—but I just figured you’d rather be resting right now. Don't tell me the infamous Agust D missed me and decided to come here instead.”
“You were on the way.”
(He’d circled around, taken a longer route, descended into the familiar maze of the lower city. To throw off the scent of any potential pursuers. You just happened to be nearby, pure coincidence and convenience.)
You retract the spyglass, collapsing it in your hands. “Either you leave right now and go to your own place to sleep, or you’re going to sleep in my bed. Your choice.”
(If Yoongi took the time to think about it, really think about it, he’d notice that the words aren’t shrouded in suggestion or insinuation. Your brows are raised and you’re looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to decide what he’s going to do—unimpressed at how tired he is, how he’s come here instead of sliding into his own bed for the rest he so clearly needs.)
Of course, Yoongi leaves. He returns home without his jacket, strips his shirt off as soon as he’s in this safe place, this base, sheds pieces of his body armour as easy as anything (you’d designed it to be lightweight and easy to don and doff, the perfect defence for someone who relied on stealth and speed); he’s just removing the last greave when Hoseok appears, rapping his knuckles against the open door.
“You’re finally back.”
Yoongi looks up. Hoseok is dressed for work, Hope Broker persona in place, tailored suit that sits perfectly with the lines of his body, handsome and stylish and entirely put together. He oozes poise and power. Elegance.
“Yeah.” Yoongi lets the greave drop, silent as it falls to the floor. “Job’s done.”
Hoseok smiles. It’s a genuine one because it’s for Yoongi. “I know,” he says, even though scarcely any time has passed since Yoongi put a bullet in the back of the target’s skull. Nothing happens in this world of theirs without Hoseok finding out about it, always sooner rather than later. “Just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay.”
“All good.” 
“Good.” Hoseok is used to Yoongi’s blunt nature, his short responses when he’s tired. “Get some sleep.”
Hoseok’s elegant even as he adjusts his cufflinks. It’s just the briefest of moments, the crisp edge of his perfectly white sleeve contrasting with the shining silver, the design inlaid in them—but Yoongi recognises that design immediately.
Because it’s yours.
It’s the same emblem on each piece of his gear, small and understated, hidden away, easy to miss—but Yoongi knows it intimately. He doesn’t say anything. Lets Hoseok leave without a word. Each one of the men that Yoongi considers family, the tiny collection of people that stay in this same home as him, know that he only gets equipment sourced from you—but Hoseok had never mentioned that he’s been in contact with you, too. 
It’s not important. Hoseok might be his friend and a staunch ally but there’s plenty that he gets up to that none of the others are privy to, trading information to the highest bidders, head of a huge network that Yoongi can use to his advantage but isn’t technically a part of. The people Hoseok deals with—buys his information and resources from, keeps perfectly balanced in comparison to his own power—is his own business and not Yoongi’s.
Yoongi moves to gather his armour, the hardsuit he wears like a second skin, and spots that insignia that he knows so well branded into it. To have Hoseok wearing it at his wrist—the Hope Broker, renowned trader of secrets—is a statement. You could have made the cufflinks plain and unadorned. But you hadn’t.
When Yoongi climbs into bed that night, he finds that his sleep is restless.
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The smile on your face fades. “You know I don’t talk about business with other customers.”
Yoongi’s staring at you across your workbench, the light from its surface going dim as you take your hands off it, disassembled stun mine forgotten.
No one knows about his genuine friendship with Hoseok, but they do know that Agust D and the Hope Broker have an agreement; a professional working relationship. “I know the Hope Broker,” Yoongi says. 
Your eyebrows rise so far they seem to threaten to ascend into your hairline, you’re so incredulous. “Everyone does. What’s your point? Do you expect me to give you information about everyone you ask about? I get paid to keep people’s privacy, Yoongi. Do you think I sell the information of your equipment, how to dissemble every defence you have? Do you think I give your name out to everyone who asks?”
There’s no touch of amusement to the line of your lips, no sparkling irreverence in your eyes. You’re genuinely displeased.
“He’s wearing your symbol.”
You scoff. “You wear my symbol too. Why, are you jealous? Your armour has exactly the same technology. Better, even, because I can fit more tech in there.”
The cufflinks generate a kinetic barrier, then, a layer of invisible shielding that lays just atop Hoseok’s skin. But no one sees Yoongi’s armour; no one sees the workmanship of your weapons, no one except him. Your insignia isn’t emblazoned on his wrist for all to see.
Yoongi isn’t jealous.
“Hope is a powerful man,” you continue. “Everyone knows that. Even people who haven’t met him know that. Even people who aren’t sure he exists know that. If I want to sell to him then that’s my business.”
Everyone who’s anyone recognises your logo, no matter how rare it is to spot it (you only craft for a select few, after all). And Hoseok’s influence is far reaching and powerful; no one would dare cross him, dare to cross anyone who’s associated with him. 
“I’m looking for a new workshop.” You rise, moving away from your workbench to your monitors, touching a display with your fingers to bring it to life. Ignoring Yoongi’s presence, not even looking at him. “I haven’t got the space to modify the systems in this one as much as I want to. The walls are already full enough as it is. Do you know how hard it is to find somewhere with the specifications I need?”
Yoongi realises, then, why you’re doing this. The bruise is long gone and your skin is unmarred but you still don’t feel safe. You’ve always worked alone. Until now. Now you’re making moves to settle down, settle in, make a statement of allegiance to someone who can offer you a level of protection with their influence.
Someone who can offer you somewhere new, away from this inadequate place you’ve outgrown.
Hoseok laughs lightly when Yoongi asks about it, mentions it in passing as the two of them drink soju side by side, Hoseok in his suit and Yoongi girded in the armour under his unassuming clothes, both in the upper city for work; they stare down at the myriads of tall buildings and huge holo-boards and rainbow array of neon lights, far above the place they call home.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, utterly relaxed (and faintly amused). “I know you respect her work so I thought I’d reach out. I’m surprised she can make the things she does in that tiny workshop. You’re right; she’s very good.”
You are. The next time you meet, you give Yoongi his usual shipment and more besides, more than he’d ordered, reflected in the amount of creds he has to pay—because he won’t be able to just drop in for a while, your workshop dismantled and scraped empty in preparation for the move. Where to, he doesn’t know, but you say you’ll pass on the information once everything is up and running again.
“If you break any of your gear while I’m gone then you’re on your own,” you say. “I’m not shipping anything before my new workshop is finished.”
Two days later, Yoongi spies a new watch on Hoseok’s wrist. It looks low-tech, old style, metal strap and round clock face—but he sees the silhouette of your logo under those ticking hands and knows there’s more tech in there that meets the eye.
He looks away.
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It takes a week for the message to appear, encrypted: your new location. Levels above your former workshop, one of the higher strata of the lower city—still hidden and out of the way but away from the dirt and darkness. 
Yoongi goes. He finds the door panel, scans his palm, leans forward for the light to flit across his eye, murmurs a word, watches the door slide open. He’s already programmed in. New workshop, new security system, but he’s still allowed in, still one of the people you consider familiar, trustworthy. 
(He doesn’t know of anyone else who fits that category. Has only ever seen you manually allow people inside, granting your permission each time, rather than giving them free run of the place. No one has as many complex orders as he does, he’s certain. It’s for ease and practicality’s sake.)
He’s unfamiliar with the layout of this new building, first corridor already longer than he’s used to; he pauses for a moment but then hears something, faint—your laughter. Follows that sound, makes his way forward, through polished corridors with lines of light underfoot, leading him down some stairs and towards the sound of you.
Your new workshop is beautiful. There’s enough room in here for everything, no need for a backroom: a central worktable, benches lining the walls, tech displays built in, everything edged with lighting, dark surfaces shining bright, large floor panels underfoot emitting a low glow. Your former home had been that underground workshop and a locked door to a ladder to your micro apartment up top, tiny kitchen and single bed in a small room with a shower cubicle in the corner. Yoongi already knows that this building is far, far bigger, and you have more space than you’ve ever had before; you’d never been discontent with your smaller home, comfort from familiarity, until that comfort had been stripped from you.
You’re smiling. The snark woven into your words that Yoongi is used to is muted, light comment falling from your lips as you sit on that central table, perched on its edge. And Hoseok, he laughs, grinning so widely his teeth are on show—he’s wearing a suit but his jacket is resting on his shoulders, tie undone and cast around his neck. A stance of relaxation, one Yoongi’s never seen from him, not when he’s working. Not when he’s The Hope Broker and not Hoseok.
He’s still smiling when he notices Yoongi, the two of you looking over when the hitman speaks.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Hoseok.”
That ever-present smirk freezes on your face for a split second, eyes widening at the sound of Hope’s real name. Hoseok just takes it in stride, his smile not dimming even for a second.
“Hey, Yoongi.” His greeting is as warm as it always is. “Just checking in. Have to make sure everything is up to scratch. What’s the verdict?”
You’ve hidden your surprise, wiped it off your face, eyes on Hoseok as you answer him. “It’s perfect.” A pause. “I take it you two know each other?”
“Sure. Yoongi is an old friend of mine.” Hoseok is still smiling, looking at Yoongi with creased eyes. Unafraid of revealing this information to you, still at ease despite the tension that’s bubbling in the air, Yoongi’s impassive face. Hoseok is always an unshaken pillar of positivity. “I didn’t realise he was coming. Am I interrupting an appointment?”
You stare at Yoongi. “No, you’re not. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
(You’d sent the message less than an hour ago. Yoongi had taken one look at the address, memorised it, pulled on his jacket and headed out; clearly you hadn’t anticipated how fast his arrival would be.)
“A happy coincidence, then.” Hoseok sounds like he genuinely means it, is pleased to see Yoongi here, his smile unwavering. There’s a languid set to his body, the easing line of his spine, hands in his pockets. A glittering in his eyes. (No one ever gets the drop on Hoseok, never surprises him, catches him off guard, no matter what they do.) “But I’ll let you conduct your business and we can catch up another time.”
He takes a hand out of his pocket as he walks past Yoongi, pats his shoulder amicably. His palm is relaxed against the tense set of Yoongi’s shoulders before he ascends the stairs and disappears out of sight, the sound of his polished shoes fading until he’s gone, one of the monitors on the wall flickering to indicate the front door is shut once more.
You’re still staring at Yoongi. The atmosphere had been heavy, even with Hoseok there—and now that he’s gone there’s nothing to alleviate that pressure, nothing to dissolve the strange twist to the air.
“Who,” you start, measured but sharp, “do you think you are?”
Yoongi returns your stare, looks back at you with his dark eyes. Doesn’t respond to your question; an unnecessary, unprompted thing, razor-edged for a reason he can’t discern. 
“Can’t you hear me?” You slide off the table, stalk towards him. “I said—” you raise a hand— “who? Do? You? Think? You? Are?”
You emphasise each word with a sharp jab to Yoongi’s chest, driving your finger forward with so much force it must hurt. You keep it in place, keep it dug into the centre of his ribcage. There’s no laughter hidden in the corner of your lips. He’s annoyed you again, somehow, a familiar guest turned unwelcome interloper.
“You say that you know Hope and yet I just watched you treat him like dirt.” Your eyes are piercing, cutting through the soft frame of your curled lashes, boring straight into him. “You come into my workshop as if you’re meant to be here; like there’s something you’re owed. Do you want me to treat you like a child, send you to your room? Not let you back in here? Because I will.”
“You sent me your address,” Yoongi points out.
You let out a bark of laughter. “Please.” Your hand drops back to your side and you turn, stepping away. “I’ve sent this address to all my business associates. I can’t sell or buy unless people can find me. You’re the only one who’s taken this as an invitation to just turn up and waltz in. At least when Hope turns up he warns me beforehand. Oh, and he doesn’t say stuff like he’d rather blow his own brains out than be forced to see me. I know you just love being contrary but has it ever occurred to you to be more polite to people? You’d make a terrible waiter. You’d get fired on your first day.”
You’re in front of one of your cabinets. You reach inside for something, hefting it in your hands before returning, handling it in a way that’s completely unceremonious, dropping it to the bench at his side like you want to be rid of it. Like you don’t even want to hand it directly to him, to interact with him. “There. Nothing but a pleasure doing business with you, Yoongi, even if your customer service still needs improving.”
It looks like a flat, hexagonal panel, the same colour and material as his armour. Something to be locked into it, wired in, trailing veins of unattached tech spilling from it. He’s seen you working on this for a while, seen you draw up blueprints with a bruise fresh on your cheek, seen it turned in your hands as that mark had faded and left your skin. 
It’s not something he ordered.
“What is this?”
You wave a dismissive hand. “Auto medi-gel distributor. It syncs with your armour and senses when you’ve been hurt and disperses gel in the affected area. Your armour’s always been too lightweight to have extra mods on but I’ve been working on this for a while.”
It’s an astonishing piece of tech. Usually one that’s reserved for heavier armour, restricting and hard to move in but easier to mod—but this thing is slim, compact, the same technology crammed into a smaller package without losing any of its punch. He doesn’t know what materials you’ve had to use to circumvent this, the level of tech you’ve layered into this, the amount of time and thought you’ve put into this.
“How much is it?”
The wrong thing to say. The smile that spreads itself across your lips is an echo of its usual curve, brittle and flaking around the edges, a baring of teeth.
“It’s a gift, Yoongi. Usually when someone does something for you, you return the favour.” Your lips are still upturned but your eyes are unsmiling even when your tone seems whimsical and light. You’ve got on your usual flippant façade, but there’s a pointed undercurrent to it. “You know, I don’t understand you at all. You remind me that you don’t like me but then you always hang around. You kill someone who threatened me and pretend that you didn’t do it. You say you don’t like me, but I thought you at least respected me, and yet here you are. Lying to me and treating me like I'm a fool.”
“I do respect you,” Yoongi says. 
(Because he does, and as much as he would hate to inflate your ego, he doesn’t shy away from telling the truth.)
“Sure you do.” An unimpressed eye-roll, cutting under his words, knocking his feet out from underneath him. You don’t care to believe him. “This is my fault for not treating you the same as all my other business associates.  Next time you come in you’ll have to have an appointment, just like everyone else. It’ll minimise the amount of time we have to spend together.”
Yoongi doesn’t like you. He finds, though, that he likes the sound of this even less; finds it pulling at his brows, his mouth, impassive expression turned to one of disapproval.
And his mouth opens. The word falls from his lips before he has a chance to think—years of battle intuition, years of following instinct, moving as he needs to in the moment.
A raise of the brows. A purse of the lips. Incredulous. “No?” you parrot it back, mocking. “Oh, okay, sure. Never mind. You’re welcome to come in whenever you want and act like you have free rein of the place. There’s nothing I enjoy more than your scowling presence.”
Sharp tongued, sharp eyed, narrowed at him: a confrontation. For all that you needle him you never mean it, really (even if it’s still infuriating, aggravating). But right now? Right now each of your words is barbed, your sarcasm a defence, an offence. You’re running your mouth not just to rile him, but to ward him away. 
“You’re really not as smart as you think you are, Min Yoongi.” You wield his name like a weapon. “You tell me right now why I should listen to you. What do you come here for? And don’t say it’s for my work because it stopped being just that a long time ago. And if it is just for my work then take it and go. Then I’ll take you off the security system and we’ll only see each other as much as is strictly necessary. In fact, you could pass your orders along via Hope—then we won’t have to even see each other at all. ”
“And then he’ll be the only one allowed free rein?”
It comes out before he’s even really thought about what he’s saying, which isn’t like him at all. Yoongi is two parts: pure, honed instinct, and careful, wary vigilance. He’s not like you, saying the first thing that comes to mind—not normally, anyway—but the words jump from his lips, from some near-silent part of him that balks at the idea. Of Hoseok stepping into your space the way that Yoongi does, appearing without warning, to be greeted with a curled smirk and glittering eyes.
“You’re a fucking idiot if you think that you’re not the only person with security clearance. My God. You’re infuriating. Seriously? I didn’t realise you were genuinely this dense. You’re the only one I’ve ever allowed in without prior agreement.” You emphasise this statement with another jab to his chest, your finger a sharp knife that cuts into him as you stab it forwards.
He catches your wrist. His grasp is firm but there’s no pressure to it; doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t tighten his fingers, just holds you in place. You’re staring at him with a challenge in your eyes, one that he finds himself rising to match, never one to back down.
“Is that so?”
Your hand unfurls, fingers splayed across his chest; he’s still holding your wrist, shifting with your movement. “Don’t be obtuse.” An irritated exhale. “Normally you complain whenever I talk and now you’re trying to get me to repeat myself. Again with the inconsistency, Yoongi. Make up your mind.”
He could do what you do whenever you’re feeling particularly aggravating. Play dumb, ask more questions, drag out the interaction until you’re bordering on snapping—but he doesn’t. He looks at the set of your jaw, the way you’re staring at him. Unflinching. You’ve never been scared of him, and you aren’t now, not with how he’s got a hold of you, how close he is to you.
He toes the line. Shifts closer. Notes the way your pupils dilate, how the tips of your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt; how the air grows heavier, a frisson of electricity crackling through it. Yoongi doesn’t like you, but he likes that feeling—how the tension in the air shivers from indignation into something different.
Because you’re still staring at him, and there’s still that hard set to your jaw, but there’s not just anger in your eyes. There’s that warm thing he’s grown used to seeing, smouldering in near silence until he’d coaxed it to full flame, thrown gasoline onto the coals when he’d shot plasma into the back of Tang Lee’s skull. He’d protected you even though he hadn’t needed to, doesn’t need to, but does anyway—because he trusts you and there’s no one else he trusts to keep you safe.
And there’s no one else you trust, either.
“You talk too much,” Yoongi says, like he so often does—but there’s no irritation in it, touched instead with a simmering heat, the faintest edge of a bite.
You tilt your head. There’s a provocation etched into the twist of your mouth, the way your lips lift. Because no matter how much you needle him, dig your fingernails into every crack of his armour and twist—no matter how annoying you are, how angry you make him—you know that he’s not mad. Not really. Not in a way that makes you afraid, but in a way that thrills you, makes you want to see him snap, to wipe away that level facade he maintains.
“Maybe you should shut me up, then,” you reply, a murmur. A challenge.
A beat. Yoongi’s fingers tighten around your wrist. A warning.
And in response?
You just smile.
The way your eyes widen just seconds later is delicious, though, when Yoongi lets go of your wrist—because he’s moving faster than you expected. Your surprise melts into delight, a spark of glee that says you’ve gotten exactly what you want when Yoongi threads his fingers in your hair, tilting your head back to bare the column of your throat. He holds you firmly in place, crowds you back against the workbench so hard its edge must be digging almost painfully into your back but not once does that glee dim, written over every line of your smile, eyes bright and teeth sharp.
Yoongi likes to take things slow. There’s the part of him that never steps into a situation without knowing every angle, every escape route, each one of his kills planned meticulously. But, he thinks, the two of you have been waiting long enough, and he’s never been patient around you—has found his composure worn thin faster than anywhere else, by anyone else. It’s this part of him, frayed into non-existence by you, that rises to the surface now, makes him move as quick as he does.
And you respond just the way he knew you would. When he presses his mouth to yours you kiss him back like you have a point to make (you always do), fast and almost reckless, all lips and teeth and tongue. There’s no finesse to it. When he presses his tongue into your mouth you part your lips so prettily, let him take his fill, slide your tongue against his and tilt your head to get even deeper—and just like always, you're vocal, letting out small noises that are caught and muffled in the kiss, lust filled. But when you try to nip at his lip with the edge of your teeth Yoongi tightens his grip in your hair and swallows down your gasp before he pulls away, holding you in place so you can’t chase after his mouth. Your lips are kiss swollen and under the bright lights above they shine, slightly parted, pupils blown as you stare at him. 
(You look good like this.)
Your eyes slide shut when Yoongi lowers his lips to your neck, across your throat. There’s nothing gentle about it. He moves with single-minded intent, lips and teeth harsh against your sensitive skin—and you take it all, little sounds falling from your lips as Yoongi drags his teeth towards the hollow of your neck. And when he takes his hand from your hair, takes both hands and digs his fingers into your waist and lifts you, you go so easily; a mimicry of your earlier position when he’d stepped in, perched on the edge of the table. Legs spread so Yoongi can stand between them. He’d be surprised at how pliant you are if it wasn’t so obvious that this is exactly what you want: lifting your hips so he can strip your lower half bare. 
Your bare thighs press against the surface of the workbench, tech displays coming alive under your body heat. You’ve shrugged your cropped jacket off and you’re just reaching for your top when Yoongi stops you; splays a hand in the centre of your chest and presses you back, slow but undeniable. You’re not the one setting the pace. He is. He’s the one in control, with you spread out in front of him, only a thin layer of fabric keeping you from being completely bare—thin cotton underwear, dark and damp between your legs, betraying your arousal.
“Wet,” Yoongi murmurs.
Your retort stutters on your lips when he drags his fingers upwards over your slit, barely dulled by the material in the way. “No shit,” you say, and then suck in a breath when he presses the pad of his thumb across your clit.
It’s no good, the fact you’re still talking. But that’s okay. Yoongi’s planning on changing that.
It’s lewd, the way your legs are spread, parting further at the urging of his hands. Your hands slide across the bench, papers scattering, palms flat on the work surface and white light shimmering on dark blue in reaction to your touch; an unnecessary distraction that you both ignore. There’s nothing graceful about this, the peel of underwear away from your core, already slick even with the barest of attentions; he drags his fingers down the inside of your thighs, all that soft skin, and then under, urging your hips up and towards his mouth. No foreplay to this foreplay, no dragging out this moment—he bites at that soft skin of your inner thigh, sinks his teeth into it and listens to the way you gasp in surprise—and before you have a moment to ground yourself, he presses his mouth to your cunt.
You’re wet and warm under his tongue and the smell of you surrounds him, musky and heavy, and he feels how your entire body goes tense as you arch your back. He’d normally take his time with this, have you strung out and begging, but he has different plans today—knows exactly what he wants from this, sucking your clit between his lips and feeling your thighs tighten around his head, legs slung over his shoulders as he listens to the way you moan. Each sound shudders out from your mouth like you tried so desperately to keep it in but couldn’t help it. Yoongi loves eating pussy anyway but this is even better, the way all your witty ripostes die in your throat before you can shape them on your lips, turned into breathy gasps instead. 
The taste of you fills his mouth and it’s so fucking good. You’ve been watching him, how his head moves between your legs, but he can tell you’re close; you’ve given up, eyes shut as you lean into the sensation building up in you, and Yoongi thinks he likes you better like this. Forced into speechlessness under his hands and tongue. Your pretty mouth softened from sharpness into urging noises of pleasure. He slides one arm across your stomach and holds you in place, a hard line that you can’t overpower and you’re left squirming in place, hips trying to kick up each time he draws his tongue over your slit, every part of you sloppy with your own arousal and Yoongi’s spit, flushed and lovely. One of your hands is in his hair and you’re pulling, pulling hard, unaware of how tight your grip is as you try to buck your hips and sob. 
You’re so sensitive, and it only takes one, two fingers pressing into you and curling just right as Yoongi slides his tongue over your clit before you’re cumming, hot around his fingers as you come apart all wet and messy. He’s never seen you so undone, back arched as you ride out your orgasm, hair swept away from your forehead as you throw your head back. Keeps his mouth open on you, feels you under his tongue, until you’re flopped on your back and your chest is heaving, legs untensed and loose over his shoulders.
You shift an arm. Your fingers barely brush the medi-gel mod you’d made him, a loose sheet of paper sliding away and joining the others on the floor.
“Just moved in and it’s already a mess,” Yoongi says, and he doesn’t just mean the paper; fingers and chin and mouth covered in your slick, your core soaked. He’s still knuckle deep and when he curls his fingers again your entire body jolts, your mouth parting almost wantonly before you seem to struggle back to reality, surfacing from a haze of arousal and post orgasmic bliss.
“That’s your fault,” you say, voice weaker than usual. “I’ll send you the cleaning bill.”
“Mm. Not my fault you’re a messy girl.”
“Fuck you.” The blunt words are softened by your breathlessness, your bonelessness; the way your breath catches in your throat when he calls you a messy girl, even if you try to hide it. Trying not to let him in on exactly how much power he holds in this moment. 
“I was planning on it,” Yoongi says, as calm as ever, even if arousal is simmering through his veins and gathering in his gut—has been this entire time, the taste of you on his tongue and the heat of you under his lips and the sound of you in his ears. “Want to make your workshop even messier?”
You dig your balls of your feet into his back, legs still over his shoulders. His fingers shift inside you and you shiver. “I don’t think so,” you say. “Bedroom.”
“So you’re giving me a tour, then?”
You don’t dignify him with a response, although the noise you make when he finally pulls his fingers out of you is more than enough to satisfy him. He’s still fully dressed and you’re only half so, and it would be comical if the sight of your bare legs and slick on your inner thighs wasn’t so hot, barefoot on the glowing and pristine (papers notwithstanding) floors as you reach for his hand and lift it to your lips, sucking his fingers into your mouth and licking your arousal off his fingers with your tongue, warm and wet, before you grab his wrist and pull. 
He watches the movement of your hips as you lead him, your bare ass. Shameless as ever. Confident in yourself, even now. It’s not until you’ve stepped over the threshold and into your new bedroom that your tattoos become visible, as bright as the low lights in the room, those geometric lines and stylised circuitry on your legs shifting as you step forwards.
Even with the relative darkness Yoongi immediately notices something. Cast over the back of a chair near the bed, there’s his jacket, blood stains at the edge of the sleeves gone. Cleaned. Yoongi shifts his hand so you don’t have your fingers wrapped around his wrist any more. Instead he’s the one shackling you, holding you in place as you look over your shoulder.
“Were you ever going to return that to me?” He tilts his head at the chair. 
You pause. Glance over. Look back at him, all amusement and provocation, recovered from your earlier breathlessness. “But Yoongi, I get so cold.”
There’s something about the idea of you in his clothes, clothes that you know he’s worn when he’s been getting his hands dirty—he ignores the curl to your lips and moves you towards the bed, ignoring the sound of your self satisfied laughter when he reaches for your shirt and pulls, with you lifting your arms to help him, grinning at him the whole time. Even when he’s thrown your bra aside and kicked his boots off and pushed you onto the mattress, trapped you underneath him, completely naked against his completely clothed body you’re still smiling, like the cat who got the cream.
You’re stunning. There’s no doubt about it. You always have been, annoyingly so, even when Yoongi’s wanted to wring your neck; not just because you’re pretty but because you’re intelligent and confident and in control, staring up at him without a lick of fear or concern, even now. Never with him, never. He can see your tattoos in all their glory, nothing hidden away from his gaze; he sees one he hasn’t been able to see before, a sunflower bursting across your ribcage, curved under the swell of your breast, glowing red and orange in the midst of all your other cyan and teal lines, glowing in the black light. He’s pressing you down, trapped under his body, and you’re just waiting. Waiting and still smiling, smirking, letting him take you in, preening under his attention.
He wants to eat you alive.
So he does just that. Shifts back down the mattress on his knees, keeping his hands on you, pulling his hands down the easing lines of your ribs and waist and hips, before a firm tug has you lifting up—your smug facade shakes when you’re left with only your shoulders and head against the bed, the rest of your body pulled towards Yoongi’s waiting mouth once more, held in place with fingers that dig into your hips, thighs soft against his ears, your hands scrabbling at the linen underneath you when Yoongi’s lips press into the crease of your thigh, off balance.
“Safeword?” He murmurs into your skin, and you pause.
“Hoseok,” you answer, and Yoongi responds by biting into your thigh again, soothing it with his tongue when you squeal.
You’re still wet from before, slick with cum, and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate before he dives back in. He can hear more than he can see the way your fingers curl into your sheets and rumple them in your hands, anchored helplessly into place by Yoongi’s mouth and the fingers cupped under your ass, digging into the soft skin, undignified and at his mercy. 
“Yoongi!” You gasp, almost a whimper as a breath gets caught in your throat. “Y-Yoongi—”
You’re so helpless like this. It’s a little hard for Yoongi to breathe, your legs tightening around him, but it’s worth it for the way he can see you shaking apart. He presses his tongue as deep into you as he can, sucks your swollen pearl between his lips and circles it with his tongue, notices the way you jolt at those wet kisses, still sensitive from before, and he doesn’t let up. Keeps going and going and going until you’re gasping for air, sensations rippling through your body as you buck and writhe; you’re trying to keep yourself together, he can tell, but you’re unravelling, smirk wiped off your face and your mouth in a pretty little circle whenever you choke out oh, oh.
You cum faster than he expects, shoulders lifting away from the mattress as you arch your back so far it must hurt and tighten your legs and he feels the way your pussy throbs under his tongue, practically gushing when you reach your peak. Your eyes are unfocused when they flutter back open but you’re reaching for him, for the waistband of his trousers, trying to touch the hard length of his cock—he’s been ignoring it, how he’s leaked so much precum he can feel how wet it is in his boxer-briefs.
He keeps ignoring it now. He catches your hands, stops you in place, stares you down with an unimpressed tilt to his brows.
“What,” he says levelly, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Want you in my mouth,” you say. You seem almost desperate for it, fingers flexing in his hold, letting your tongue linger against your lips longer than necessary. “I want your cock in my mouth, Yoongi.”
He tightens his grip around your wrists. And then, for the first time all night, he smiles.
You look stunned. Just for a moment. Then you’re squirming in his hold, but you’re trapped, nowhere to go. “What do you mean, no?”
Yoongi’s still smiling, mirroring the self satisfaction that had been written all over your face earlier. “I mean no. You don’t get what you want. You get what you’re given.”
There’s nothing he’d like more than to sink into that wet heat, to see your smart mouth put to good use, lips spread over his cock, but this is better. Seeing the genuine frustration and disbelief written across your features. 
He doesn’t give you time to line up another angered retort on your tongue. Doesn’t give you time to breathe before he’s flipping you over, the wings of your shoulder blades and curve of your spine emphasised by the lines that are traced symmetrically and shining across your skin. They shift when you move, hips lifted from the mattress by Yoongi’s hands, on your hands and knees as he fumbles his waistband and zipper and pulls his cock free. He’s painfully hard, flushed head with precum that beads at the tip, and when he tugs you back he watches the way the head drags across the curve of your ass, leaving a shining line of wetness on your skin.
And when he sinks into you he barely gives you time to adjust, barely has time to adjust himself, to all this hot tight wetness after his cock’s gotten no attention at all—you let out a moan that almost sounds like you’re singing, long and high with pleasure, the slide eased from all your cum.
 You take it so well, always so good to him no matter how irritating you are, so lost in the sensations that you don’t say anything about the hard edges of Yoongi’s clothes whenever he drives his hips forward and it presses into the soft skin of your thighs. It’s messy and choppy and fast and you slump onto your elbows, entire body shaking as you take everything Yoongi is giving you. Caged underneath him when he follows you forwards, presses his front to your back, feels the way the sweat on your skin is caught against the fabric of his clothes. Grinds his hips deep and feels the way you gasp, sucking in a shaking breath, your entire body lost in it. He bites his lip and keeps his own sounds caught behind his teeth, not letting you know how you’re pulling him towards his own edge.
He’s not done with you yet.
Your clit is slick under his touch when he lifts his fingers to touch you, to layer another sensation on top of the cock inside you, and you’re sobbing. You don’t ask him to stop, never know when to quit, face every challenge thrown at you—and Yoongi can tell that you love it even if your body is crying out, that you love this oversensitivity, pulled taut and strung out. You’re beyond speech, words slurred, barely recognisable as his name and pleas of more, please, more. He can feel when you’ve crested the wave of too much sensation and fallen back into that rippling sea of pleasure, and when you cum it’s with a soundless moan, mouth wide open but no noise escaping. No more sharp retorts, no smart words, fucked into incoherency, trembling and quivering as you go tight around him and Yoongi struggles not to lose himself then and there, in your scorching, wet cunt, fluttering around him.
The noise when he pulls out is slick and lewd, just like all the other noises that have been filling the room, the slap of skin on skin temporarily halted when Yoongi rolls you onto your back. There’s sweat beading on your skin, shimmering, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes and glistening like tiny jewels in the multi-coloured low light of this room. Your lips are parted and your gaze is bleary and you’re everything Yoongi has never seen from you before, fuzzy and quiet, entirely pliant. When he reaches for you again, runs his hands over the rise of your hipbones and down the side of your thighs, you whimper.
“One more,” Yoongi says. “One more, you can give me one more.”
You’ve never known when to quit, and now is no different, even if you’re on the verge of being entirely fucked dumb. Those tears pool in your eyes and stream down towards your hairline, but you let Yoongi move you, try to help by lifting your hips but almost too gone to move at all. Yoongi almost cums when he sinks into you, your willing body; he thinks you’ve never looked better than you do now, smelling like sweat and sex and so soft under his hands, taking his cock like you were made for it, and you’re so gorgeous when you’re falling apart. 
The attitude you wear normally—the one that chafes at Yoongi’s nerve-endings—has been entirely wiped away, forced out of you by mindless pleasure. But still, you know what you want, even now, even when you’re barely coherent—Yoongi feels your hand slide across his and pull weakly, guiding it across your chest and up, circling his fingers around your neck.
He swears. Snaps his hips forward hard, watches the way your eyes roll back when he gives an experimental squeeze around your throat. Yoongi’s choked people before, knows exactly how much pressure to give, how much it takes to cut someone’s airways completely or how to just leave them reeling; he lets you linger on the edge of breathlessness, feels the way you go tight around him. When you orgasm it rips through you, your thighs tightening around Yoongi’s hips as you hit your peak and cum hard, and the feeling of it has Yoongi cursing and bending forwards to shove his face in your neck and kiss the salt-sweat taste he finds there as he falls off the edge. He cums wet inside you, keeps rolling his hips through it all, lets his cum mix with yours and watches the way you just keep taking it, even when your whole body is trembling from how much it is.
And when Yoongi calls you a good girl, you don’t snap back like you normally would, don’t deride his praise. You bask in it, as tired as you are, letting out a soft noise when he pulls his softening cock out of you, unbothered by the wet patches on your sheets and how the whole room stinks of sex. When he moves to lift you, to get you clean, you go easily and without argument, every one of your honed edges dulled, and you make no move to sharpen them again, to drag them over Yoongi in the way he’s so familiar with by now. Even when you’ve lifted out of your haze and you’re back in the moment, the way you watch Yoongi is no less calm than normal, but still different.
He’s in the middle of reaching for his boots, discarded on the floor, a discordant note on the clear floor. You’re wearing clean underwear and a loose t-shirt and you’re looking at him with something verging on surprise, like you hadn’t expected to see him moving to pull his shoes back on to leave.
He hadn’t been planning to.
“Just moving them out of the way,” says Yoongi, putting them upright by the base of your chair, and then he makes his way back to you. You don’t attempt to hide your pleasure that he’s listened to you,  pulling him onto the bed despite the fact he’s still dressed.
“I don’t cuddle,” he says, even as you tuck yourself into the crook of his arm, and he shifts to make it more comfortable for you.
You press your face into the hollow of his neck, touch your nose against his throat, breathing in the smell of sweat that still lingers—because you’re shower soft and fresh but he isn’t, and weirdly enough, you seem to enjoy it. Seem to enjoy that contrast, the one that’s always existed between you, Yoongi immersed in blood and sweat and tears while you’re away from it, one degree of separation from it all. “You know, I like it when you do things for me.”
Normally he’d protest, say that he doesn’t do things for you, but the truth is that he does, even if he’s only just admitting it to himself. 
“Like that time you killed someone for me,” you say, and Yoongi’s fingers tighten, soft skin of your waist yielding under his touch.
“I kill a lot of people.”
You let out a laugh against his skin, quietly amused. “Just admit it. You like me, Min Yoongi.”
A pause. 
Then: “Against my better judgement, I do.”
And he does. Even if you’re irritating and maddening, he does like you, and not just because of the work you do for him. He thinks that even if you weren’t so good at your job that he’d find himself here anyway, caught in this push and pull you have, magnetised.
“No need to sound so begrudging,” you say, but there’s no real annoyance behind your words. 
Yoongi finds that he likes that note in your voice, like you’re indulging him and his stubbornness and you’re unmoved by it. He hums in response. Feels the way you shift back, lean on your elbows to look down at him, lips curled up at the corners.
“Kiss me.”
Not a question. A demand. Yoongi stares you down, just for a second, before he lifts a hand and weaves a hand back into your hair, tilting your mouth against his. He can feel your self satisfied smile against his lips and he doesn’t mind it at all, sees it spread across your face when you eventually pull back, all flushed lips and warm eyes.
You’re still sharp, a weapon in your own right, but you willingly hand yourself over to be held in his skilled hands, let yourself be worn smooth by his touch. He weaves his fingers between your own, your palm soft and warm against his, and he likes this. That you’re unafraid of what he is, that the fact he’s a killer isn’t something that scares you or thrills you.
Yoongi likes your work. He likes that he knows he can trust you. He likes that he knows of your loyalty, to the people you choose and to yourself, your unwavering principles, as unpredictable as they might seem. He likes that you’re unashamed to be yourself and to be confident, no matter how people react to that cockiness. 
What he likes even better than all that is this, though: the way you’re pressed against his side, evidence of his touch written into your skin. The feeling of your hand in his. Despite all the odds, all the months of drawn out and simmering exasperation and tension coming to a head like this, Yoongi likes you.
“I’m not going to give you a discount, you know,” you say suddenly, and for the first time since you met, Yoongi allows himself to laugh at you.
“I’d be offended if you did.”
(You’re loud. Cocky. Arrogant. You love to irritate him just for the hell of it, because you think it’s funny and you love knowing that you can rile him up—but he can rile you up too, and you both know it.
Yeah. Yoongi likes you.)
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tagging: @beyoncesdragon @vensulove @gyukult  @swinginpicklesuitcaseapricot @kpopheart2 @loveyoongles @muzikabijou  @katbonv @jaxx-7 @yeojaa
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personasintro · a month ago
monachopsis | 03
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, oral sex [male receiving]
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.9k+
↳ chapter index
⇢ intro | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
crossposted: wattpad | AO3
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The next time you see Yoongi, it’s in a different setting but under the same circumstances. When he texted you a different address out of nowhere and a week without contacting you or Yeonseok, there had been more than one reason why you were so surprised at the sight of an unknown number. First of all; how did he get your number? As you later found out, Yeonseok gave it to him (not so pleasantly and willingly) after Yoongi contacted him just for that. This happened three days after you met up with him in his tattoo studio.
The second reason had been a new address and a simple ‘meet me here tomorrow’, nothing more and nothing less. As Yoongi buzzes you in (at least you think and hope it's him) and the complex of apartment buildings surround the whole street, you realize he must've texted you his home address.
Well, this is definitely different.
Not knowing where the hell you're even going, it's like Yoongi reads your mind when your phone chimes with a new notification and as you pull it out of your pocket, you see a single number. Six.
You sigh at the lack of communication because so far, ever since Yoongi has decided to contact you has always been through a text. A part of you is glad about that, Yoongi has a weird effect on you and just the thought of communicating with him through a phone call like he's not about to put a baby into you is weird enough.
He surprises you every time you see him, or even when you don't – like when he texted you all of a sudden. You're not sure if it's his way of provoking Yeonseok but either way, he's successful at that. You had to remind your husband why you're doing this in the first place and any other negative feelings of frustration and anger he feels towards his brother aren't important right now. Luckily, he tends to cool down once you talk to him.
In a way, you always find something new and intriguing about Yoongi. But you've to remind yourself that he's a stranger. He might be your husband's brother but considering the lack of his presence at the family gatherings, you've had practically zero chances to get to know him. He keeps to himself most of the time and despite he's not very vocal, there's something radiating off him. Confidence, mystery…
As he opens the front door, you're met exactly with that. A cocky, almost amused grin when he greets you without any proper greeting as he allows you to step into his humble home. Even from the outside you could tell he doesn't live in the best neighborhood but it's not as bad as Yeonseok made it out to be. And he doesn't even know where his brother lives.
“You sure you want to drive there by yourself? Shouldn't I drive you there? He must be living in a shit hole…” You remember your husband's words as you rolled your eyes, ready to leave.
“Want anything to drink?” he asks once you make it into his living room, finding the place clean and domestic. More domestic than you expected. The living room is dark, thanks to the black furniture but the white couch contrasts it nicely. There are no punk posters on the walls or anything that would kind of match to his tattoos and mysterious, almost dark persona. But you're not trying to stereotype him. You're even shocked to see a few plants in this room. He definitely doesn't look like the type to take care of plants.
So much for not trying to stereotype him. Well, you said you're not trying, not that you're doing it very successfully. Either way, it's just an innocent observation.
“Water is fine,” you tell him, watching him leave to the kitchen, you assume. He's back in a minute, a glass of water set in front of you as you thank him and watch him sit on the other end of the couch. Or more like slouch before he lazily crosses his leg over the other, hand supporting his head. “Thanks.”
“Have you thought about it?” Asking straight away, he ignores your previous word as if you've never said it.
“Thought about what?” You sound like an idiot, barely thinking about his question once you notice his eyes on you.
“If you wanna do this?” he asks dumbfounded, cocking his brow as you look away.
“Why do you still doubt me?” you ask, forcing yourself to look at him once again while trying to maintain your dignity by not staring anywhere but his eyes.
He's wearing a pair of sport shorts and a big black shirt, eyes on display as well as his tattoo. Are those leg hair? Fuck, even his leg hair look good.
Get a grip, Y/N, you think as you look away and set your gaze upon him with your head held high. ”I thought I made myself clear.”
“Maybe,” he hums, “But it never hurts to ask again.” he says thoughtfully and just like it happened many times, you’re pleasantly surprised but confused at the same time. He’s awfully taking things into consideration for someone who’s been portrayed as the bad son and brother.
However, you’re not stupid and you don’t let him fool you. Even though a part of you doesn’t think he does. Is he trying to play a game with you? With Yeonseok? Is he doing this out of spite? You can’t quite figure that out. But is it that important? Should you be thinking about this? After all, you’ve got what you wanted and you shouldn’t care about his motive behind it as long as you’ll get pregnant.
Dreams filled with you holding your pregnant belly are more frequent these days and even though this whole plan seems still kind of weird (because it totally is), you find yourself excited and happy. It’s just a plus Yoongi is an attractive man that holds something your body seems to be craving for. It should feel dangerous, but it feels exciting instead.
Deep down, you know this is a very dangerous game. And the perfect example of that is you not telling Yeonseok about what went down when you met up with his brother. He asked you when you came home, the indescribable look on his face caused a nausea set in your stomach.
“Did you…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence but you understood him perfectly.
Back then, you had a perfect opportunity to tell him that no, you and Yoongi haven’t had sex. But something happened. Something none of you discussed because it simply didn’t cross any of your minds.
“No…” You found yourself telling him, seeing him looking at you in a confusion knowing it’s your ovulation time. The sooner you succeed with this, the better it is for this to end.
“What? Why? Was he being difficult? I’m gonna call him right now, we had a deal.”
Before your husband could grab his phone, you got up to him and placed your hand on his own and shook your head.
It’s weird, but you feel a sudden sadness for Yoongi knowing Yeonseok automatically thinks he was the one being difficult.
“No, no, no,” you quickly interrupted him, giving him a pointed look. “We talked. He was being considerate about this plan, he just wanted to make sure if I’m really fine with this.”
“He’s doing this to go against me, he’s doing this on purpose…”
You didn’t bother to correct your husband because you don’t see inside Yoongi’s head and after all… is it important what you think? You know it’s not worth arguing with your husband about it, so you kissed him goodbye and left because you’ve heard enough about Yoongi. Or more likely what Yeonseok thinks about him.
“Nothing has changed,” you speak, confidently staring him in the eyes as he stares at you the same. “I want to do this. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
His mouth falls open, slightly and almost unnoticeable but you do notice and mentally pat yourself on the back for catching him off guard. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” You don’t beat around the bush. “You’re doubting me, what if you’re doubting yourself?”
Yoongi frowns, searching your face almost as if he’s looking for a different answer but then he scoffs and his lips stretch into an amused grin. “Just wanted to make sure you’re ready for this. Once we start this, there’s no going back.” he says after a moment, deeply and slowly as if he wanted you to pay extra attention to him.
Leaning in, you don’t let the close proximity distract you as you make sure your eyes don’t wander anywhere else but stay attached to his own. “I’m fully aware,” you tell him, watching him staring at you with some kind of curiosity. As if he wants to know where you take things.
But then you’re reminded of something and you pull away slightly, glancing away for a moment before you look back at him. “I didn’t tell Yeonseok about… us, I mean what we did the last time.”
If he’s surprised, he’s hiding it perfectly but that’s nothing new to you and you’re not shocked to see him barely reacting. “Is that so?”
“I don’t know how he’d react to know we didn’t have sex but you ate his wife out instead.” It’s nothing Yoongi doesn’t know.
“Well, he does want me to fuck his wife… and not just that but to make her pregnant.”
You feel your face heat up, knowing that deep down he’s absolutely right. It sounds ridiculous either way.
“Yes, but that’s what he wants. Just for you to fuck me,” you tell him bluntly, feeling your heart quicken up its pace at the thought. “Other things are just…unnecessary.”
“And what do you want?” he asks instead, arching his brow as you give him a look before you sigh.
“I want… I want us to take things at our own pace, even if Yeonseok wouldn’t agree with that.” you tell him softly, feeling guilty because for some reason you think you’re going against your husband.
You haven’t told him about what happened between you and Yoongi, knowing it’d drive him mad and this whole plan could go south because of his jealousy and his own hatred towards Yoongi. It could ruin everything you and Yeonseok dreamed of, you can’t let that happen. Even if you have to keep your mouth shut and basically lie to your own husband. But you know him.
And you’ve sacrificed enough to just drop all of this.
Yeonseok is stubborn and wouldn’t want any other option, you’ve tried so many times. And you love him, you really do.
“You really want this baby that much, huh?” He doesn’t sound rude but he scoffs a little, making you frown at him and his tone.
Yeonseok said Yoongi has never wanted kids, it’s not something he ever considered and that’s why it made him a perfect adept for this. And because he’s his brother.
“I’ve always wanted to have kids,” you admit, “But if we didn’t have any other choice, I think I’d just have to reconcile with the fact we would never have a baby. Yeonseok is too stubborn, he wouldn’t want to listen to any other option and before you start implying that he’s forcing me to do this, or that I’m doing this only for him then that’s not it. I mean… you’re his freaking brother and the whole thing is weird as fuck, but if you’re okay with this… I’d be thankful to you for the rest of my life, Yoongi,”
He just stares, letting your words sink in and whatever he’s thinking about this, he’s keeping it to himself.
“It’s not like I’m obsessed with having a kid, I want it… I want so badly to be a mom but if it’s not intended for us to have one, then I'll have to be okay with it. And I love Yeonseok…”
Yoongi visibly cringes at the confession of you loving his brother and surprisingly, you chuckle at his little grimace.
“It’s okay, I get it… I think,” he says unsurely, cocking his head to the side a little. “I’m willing to help, it’s not like I’m doing this for free.”
“We’re both getting something out of this, but still… you’re doing way much more for us than we do for you, Yoongi. I really mean it. Yeonseok probably won’t tell you this but we’re really grateful for what you’re doing for us.”
“I haven’t done anything yet,” he reminds you, “Besides giving you an amazing orgasm.”
You laugh at that and shockingly enough, Yoongi joins you when he sees your stretched smile and eyes scrunched. “Who said it was that amazing?” you ask, biting into your lower lip to prevent yourself from grinning.
“Oh please,” Yoongi scoffs, “You barely walked out of the studio.”
“That is not true!” you exclaim, almost hitting him in the shoulder but you decide not to at the last minute. That feels awfully friendly.
A soft smile plays on Yoongi’s lips with a knowing look you notice without him even looking at you, but your eyes stay at him as you chuckle lightly.
“So,” Yoongi says, “I take it you don’t want Yeonseok to know about us taking things at our own pace?”
The little smile that once was on your lips drops and you stare at Yoongi with an unrecognizable stare. Why is he asking again? Does he have some secret plan to hurt Yeonseok? Can you truly trust him? You realize you’ve put so much trust into Yoongi and despite he’s your brother-in-law, you’ve no idea who he truly is. Maybe you’re stupid and naive to be trusting him so bluntly, even though you get the feeling you’re cautious because you’re not that stupid, the need to see the best in him is more than obvious.
“No,” It tastes like venom on your tongue, the pang in your chest is too evident at the blunt and honest answer. Your answer is that if Yeonseok heard, he’d be hurt for sure.
But this is not only about him. This is about your future and the only choice you both have, the only choice the both of you are okay with.
“Can I trust you not to tell him?”
It’s Yoongi’s turn to chuckle, it’s slightly bitter that doesn’t go unnoticed by you and in a way, you understand how he must feel after your question. You question his trust. Well, he can’t be too shocked by that because you do barely know him and you’re already putting a lot of trust in him. But if you think about it, all Yoongi sees right now is the doubt and slight fear on your face because yes, you don’t trust him with your life.
And he’s smart, he knows it’s pretty much normal and it makes sense. But for some reason you think he’s sensitive when someone is questioning him all the time, even if it’s about something as trust which again, makes sense you don’t have when you’ve barely talked to him before any of this happened. He gets it.
“Do you think I’ll try to ruin his marriage?” he asks back, not sounding accusatory as you’d expect but there’s still something on his face. But he’s doing a perfect job at hiding whatever that is. “I’m not that big of an asshole, princess.”
You clasp your mouth shut, bluntly trying to ignore the pet name again as you give him a firm nod. “I didn’t mean it like that… I just… I want to know if I can trust you.”
And there you are. Vulnerable and scared at the thought of your marriage getting ruined. You look like a kicked puppy, Yoongi thinks.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he answers and you groan, growing frustrated by his unclear answers.
Is that such a problem for him to assure you that yes, you can trust him? Is that really so hard for him to say? Just for your sake? That is kind of selfish of you to want that, because you just want him to assure you even if he doesn’t mean it. It’s ridiculous but you need something to calm down your nerves. This whole thing depends on Yoongi and he’s sitting here like nothing ever bothers him in life. Maybe some part of you envies him for that.
“Would you believe me if I told you you can trust me?” he questions as if he could read your mind.
“I don’t know…” you murmur, feeling small and stupid. However, Yoongi doesn’t look at you as if you were. He just raises his brow which tells you “exactly”.
“Look, I’m not gonna brag about this to him if that’s what you’re wondering. This is between you and me. In the end he’ll get what he wants so badly, so he better not complain and I know my brother… the less he knows the better. No one’s judging you for making this choice.”
And maybe that’s what you needed to hear to ease some of the guilt. No one’s judging you…
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t say it for you,” he informs you, “It’s the truth.”
You nod, ignoring the pathetic hurt you feel by his words. It’s better he’s putting distance between you two. The things you’re already doing, planning to do are too dangerous. And even though you’re not questioning your marriage and feelings you’ve for your husband, this is a dangerous area.
“No but really… you’re making things more comfortable for me. For all I know, you could’ve just used me--“ You can’t bring yourself to continue and you watch Yoongi’s brows scrunch in a frown.
“Don’t think about the worst things,” he advises. Of course you know that, you’re just trying to voice your gratitude. “None of us wants things to go badly.”
Nodding, you silently agree. You sit there for a moment in complete silence, silence that isn’t too comfortable and rather awkward before you decide to break it.
“Should we continue?”
You're met with a frown, confused frown.
“With our plan,” you clarify, “I think we should… go further.”
“Already begging for more orgasm?” Yoongi smirks, shamelessly staring at you as you almost choke on your spit, clearing your throat.
“No,” you breathe out, “I thought about giving you one.”
Now you get to see Yoongi’s surprised expression, eyebrows shot up and mouth slightly open before he slowly closes it and eyes you up and down. “That’s… not something you have to do.”
“Yesterday you… did what you did to make sure I really wanted this. Now it’s my turn. I want to keep going to see if I, both of us, want to take this to the final line.”
Yoongi stares, tongue peaking out of his mouth before he drags it across his dried lips. “What do you have in mind?”
So you show him. When you make your way towards where he’s sitting, he’s watching you attentively with those sharp and dark eyes. He barely has any reaction other than not getting his eyes off you when you drop onto your knees before him, tapping his legs to spread them out. He does, listens to your silent command which makes you smile in triumph.
You’re not going to lie, your heart is thumping in your chest wildly because you’re about to do this with someone that isn’t your husband or anyone you’re in a relationship with. This is not necessary (depends how you think about it).
“Can I?” you ask, hands hovering over the hem of his sport shorts.
“You don’t have to ask, princess,”
Your breath hitches, eyes quickly moving away from his smirking and amusing eyes to his crotch. Let’s do this.
He helps you by lifting his ass off the couch, just enough for you to pull off his shorts down his legs as they pool around his ankles. Voluntarily (and a little bit excitedly) you look at the package that is still safely tucked in his boxers. From the looks of it, it doesn’t look like he's totally hard yet and you grow nervous, wondering if you’ll be even able to get it up. Yoongi’s silence and the lack of verbal response is not helping that much but you take it as if he’s giving you space to explore this. Explore him and maybe yourself, giving you time to back out if you realize this is not what you’re about to do.
It is mentally tiring for sure. You’re married. There’s a lot of things that have to occur in your mind, to make this not as easy as you’d like.
“You want to stop?” you ask breathlessly, your cold hands hovering over his knees as you touch him causing him to jerk away a little.
“I would tell you if I wanted to.” he simply says, watching you with big and attentive eyes as if you weren’t on your knees for him right now.
Maybe if things were different, you’d actually laugh at that but you’re too nervous to even try and find something funny in it.
Yet, you flicker your eyes towards him and feel your lips slightly stretch. “You want to have a safe word?”
You’re teasing but at the same time there’s some hint of seriousness in your question. You’re not sure if Yoongi would need that with you, you’re not some kind of drastic woman who finds pleasure in harming their partner, or anything like that. But still, he can stop this anytime he wants and isn’t that what safe word is for?
It’s very tough to catch him off guard, he’s usually very well composed and it’s no surprise to you to see him grin, letting out a slight chuckle as he leans towards you. There, sitting on your knees with wide eyes staring at him, you stare at the close proximity between your faces. This is probably the second time he’s this close to you. So close to kissing you, you think.
“By the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be the one in need of a safe word princess.”
And he’s pulling away, hiding his grin when he sees your petrified and shocked face (or whatever it is) as he notices you gulp. Little does he know you’re subtly pressing your thighs together because holy shit, Yoongi just made you wet by a single sentence that was nowhere near romantic. It was so rough and erotic…
“Okay, no safe word for now,” you murmur, obviously failing at teasing him because he just gave it back to you. Twice the amount, if not more.
As Yoongi chuckles, it eases a little bit of stress. You don’t quite get it but you welcome it, needing some sort of relaxation right now.
“Just tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
Your eyes snap at Yoongi who’s slightly leaning towards you, but still staying in his space. “Don’t worry.”
You nod, giving him a small smile before you suddenly cup him through his boxers. You almost pull away your hands as if the touch burned you when Yoongi suddenly jumps in his spot and quickly clears his throat. But you don’t, staring at him with those same wide eyes and innocent look.
“You just… surprised me.” Yoongi explains, looking away seemingly embarrassed by the fact you just caught him off guard. He looks frustrated which makes him look cute but you’d never tell him that.
Yoongi doesn’t look like that kind of person who likes to be called cute in the first place.
“Sorry,” you mutter, not getting anything in return but you’re not waiting for it because you’re too focused on your hands.
One is holding his stretched meaty thigh, holding yourself for balance while the other cups his bulge. He’s not fully hard yet, that much you can tell and you don’t let that put you off as you suddenly give him a gentle squeeze before you try to move your hand up and down his length. His breath quicks up the pace but no sound leaves his mouth.
You’re ready to triumphantly chant when you feel him hardening, controlling yourself as best as you can while your other hand that’s been resting against his thigh starts caressing the tensed muscle.
“Can I—“
“Oh my fucking god, yes you can,” he interrupts you, “Just do something.”
“Fine, Jesus.”
You roll your eyes at him, fingers tucking under the hem of his boxers which you pull down. Eyes flickering to him, he gets the message and lifts his butt once again to help you remove the last article of clothing that keeps you from seeing all of him. His shirt stays on though. You’re not sure if it’s something he feels comfortable about or just keeps it on because you haven’t taken it off.
But that thought is gone just as fast as it can because once Yoongi’s cock is free from the confines of his boxers, you’re met with the sight no one could ever prepare you for. For a second, you’re pleased with the bigger size and there’s only a little time for you to realize it’s the biggest and definitely thickest dick you’ve ever seen. But then something else catches your full attention that makes your mouth open in shock, eyes shamelessly eyeing the tip of Yoongi’s reddened length.
Min Yoongi has his dick pierced. A freaking frenum piercing.
Gasping, you look at Yoongi who’s watching you with attentive eyes, slowly licking his lips.
“You’ve your dick pierced?” you breathe out, hands squeezing his thighs as you see his length slapped against his stomach from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve never mentioned that.”
You mentally slap yourself. Why would he mention that? Get a grip, Y/N.
Luckily, Yoongi doesn’t mock you for it and breathes out a chuckle before he shrugs, spreading his legs even wider. “You’ve never asked.”
Blushing, you find yourself licking your lips when your eyes meet the silver piercing that goes through his skin. “Doesn’t it hurt?” You can’t help but ask.
It probably doesn’t, he wouldn’t let you do this if it did. But the curiosity and concern is bigger this time, it does look a little bit painful but fuck, it’s so freaking hot. Min Yoongi is the definition of hotness and the typical bad boy look. Not only does he have tattoos but also has his dick pierced. What else is this man hiding?
You’re too eager to touch him, right hand already reaching for the hard and thick skin that feels so soft that has your hand trembling for a second. As soon as your hand wraps around his thick length, thumb caressing it slowly, a pleased sigh leaves Yoongi’s mouth and a sound of him clearing his throat right after.
You look at him, heart beating somewhere in your throat at the excitement and at the sight of his head slightly thrown back and eyes set on you.
“Does it look like it hurts?” he asks, sounding sarcastic and amused at the same time while he watches you frown at that, thumb grazing his tip which makes his mouth shut up.
“Are you always gonna answer me with a question?”
You let out a chuckle while Yoongi cracks a small smile which disappears as soon as your thumb starts spreading his pre-cum. You purposely try to avoid the piercing, slightly fearing to hurt him even though Yoongi doesn’t look scared about that at all. This is stupid, you think as the curiosity wins over and you let the tip of your thumb gently circling against the silver jewelry.
Glancing at Yoongi to check his reaction, he's staring at you with a bottom lip tucked under his teeth, eyes dark and daring which encourages you to move on. Enveloping him with the warmth of your mouth, your lips close around his cock reminding you of its thickness because fuck, you already feel as if your mouth is being used to the fullest. However, you don't let that discourage you as you suck him, slowly pulling him off your mouth just for you to dive in again, getting the taste of him and the jewelry brushing against your tongue.
It takes a lot of self-control for Yoongi not to thrust his cock into your mouth, wanting you to take him deeper. You're being careful, getting to know his body and what he likes, he can see that. But there's also a certain determination and lust present in your actions. It's almost amusing to see you trying to fit him into your mouth, getting creative and he mentally applauds you for not running away. Is it a challenge for you? Why are you so determined to suck his cock? Yeah, you explained yourself already about this but he wonders… or finds it hot you want to take this slow. He could easily just fuck you and get this done, but somehow, this seems to be more appealing for the both of you.
He's shaken out of his thoughts when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to pull away with tears in your eyes and he expects you to stop all of this, but you don't even look at him as you start sucking him off. Your hands drift to his base when you squeeze him, moving your hand up and down like he already knows from all the heads he kindly received but along with your mouth and tongue curiously circling around his jewelry, it feels ever better. So better that it makes him grunt from pleasure, hands locked behind his head as he allows himself to close his eyes and enjoy your mouth. The wet sounds of your mouth and saliva are a great addition to this whole new experience, so much that the thought of who you are never crosses his mind.
Mouth aching, you don't allow yourself to pull away and you swallow around him instead, feeling him sigh which makes you press your thighs together, sneaking a glance at him just to find him with closed eyes and head thrown back. Fuck, the sight is something to see for sure. It makes you hum around him, suck him even harder and a few minutes of doing this, you can feel Yoongi's thighs tighten as he slowly thrusts his hips into your mouth, trying his best to control himself. The back of your throat tightens and you're trying to distract yourself from gagging, ignoring the saliva dripping down your chin because your mouth is full of Yoongi's cock.
“Shit, your mouth is heaven, princess…” Yoongi grumbles, lifting one of his hands as he reaches towards you. You're startled by the sudden touch of his hand on the back of your head, simply holding you there. Once you realize the touch, you whimper around him and meet his slow thrust with your mouth, however your pace is much faster.
“Should I paint your beautiful face, hm?”
Oh, fuck. You can't possibly come home with Yoongi's cum dried on your face, no matter how much you'd try to wipe it off before you walk through the front door of your home. Your make-up must be ruined anyway but cumming on someone's face is messy. There's a high chance your shirt would be ruined too, how would you explain the white stains? And that's not definitely because you want to taste Yoongi… not at all.
Yoongi lifts his eyes to look at you, finding you frowning disapprovingly which makes him chuckle, despite the knot in his stomach and approaching orgasm. Do you really want him to cum inside your mouth? You're dirtier than he thought and he's having the time of his life, wondering what else you're hiding beneath that angelic face.
“In your mouth then?”
Surprising yourself, you actually hum in agreement before you can even process what you're doing, but the need for him to cum inside your mouth and you tasting him is stronger than any rational thinking.
“Fuck, swallow it all, yeah?” he grunts, tightening his hold on your hair which makes you moan and for a split second, your eyes meet.
Yoongi's dark eyes are staring right through you before his eyes drop to his cock in your mouth, you look like he has ruined you and your mascara is already smudged, it's so fucking messy and he loves it. A few more thrusts into your mouth and the feeling of it and your hands, he lets the knot free with a final grunt. He cums fast and strong, the feeling of him cum shooting inside your mouth shocks you but once you realize this is it, you start swallowing while stopping your movements, letting your thumb caress his base.
When he's done, body relaxing, you let the remains of his cum in your mouth for a second, letting it taste on your tongue. It's a little bit salty, slightly different than anything you've tasted before because of its particular taste. The moment you pull away from his cock, everything dawns upon you and you realize what has just happened. You're not ashamed of your actions but deep down, you know it's wrong and you haven't done this just for your own comfort, but some illogical desire or something you don't understand yet.
Yoongi is unphased though, he simply tucks himself back into his underwear and shorts while you sit there on your knees while staring wide-eyed. Shaking yourself out of it, not to look as a complete idiot or insecure, you stand up and clear your throat. Yoongi looks up, just to be met with you wiping your mouth and chin with the back of your hand which makes him smirk at you amusingly. Ignoring the little pressure of horniness in your chest and stomach, you dust off your front (not that it was needed though).
He doesn't look as if he wants to be the first one to talk (and even if he did, it would be probably something cocky and you can't deal with that right now), but you don't let him to even open his mouth as you hold your head high, faking the confidence and ignoring the shakiness of your own heart.
“I'll see you next month,”
Silently telling him that your ovulating days are over and there's no need for you to meet him between your next ovulating days, you ignore the little smirk he has on his lips.
“I'll contact you.”
Not giving him a chance to answer something cocky and confident, not even sure if he would but then again it's him so there's a high chance he would, you walk out of his apartment. The moment you sit down into your car, you allow yourself to breathe and shakily check your appearance in the mirror, just to gasp at your face. Fuck, no wonder he looked so cocky and pleased with himself.
The next five minutes are spent with you trying to make yourself look decent once again, driving home right after with Yoongi's taste still on your tongue.
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